In past newsletters we’ve looked at the publication history of canonical writers, as I slowly try to answer the question “is the literary canon just publishing history?” We’ve discussed Jane Austen’s very cool route to fame during her lifetime, and last week we peeked at Phillis Wheatley. We’ve gone over the crappy deals some famous writers received, including Harriet Beecher Stowe’s big missed chance.
Today I’m going to take up a boy author, one whose story I thought I knew well, having visited several of his houses and written about him myself.
But first, let’s introduce his publisher.
In 1825, George Palmer Putnam’s father apprenticed him a carpet shop when he was 11. When he was 15, George decided the carpet business was not for him. He hung out in New York on his own for awhile, and then got a job at a book store on Broadway. The bookstore was also a publisher—common practice then—as well as a stationer. A few years later, Putman, with more understanding of the publishing/selling biz, got a new job at a religious publisher, where he met lots of others publishers/sellers, including Dan Appleton. Putman, industrious young lad, spent his nights at the New York Mercantile Library and started writing a book, Chronology: An Introduction and Index to Universal History (!), which quickly sold through its first printing of 1,000 copies. He then moved on to writing about the book trade per se, publishing a magazine, Booksellers’ Advertisier, which was basically the first such publication to track the industry, the Publisher’s Weekly of its day. That led him to start a publishing firm with John Wiley (are you starting to recognize these last names? So many of the imprints of today are the men of the 19th century), and to go visit with Thomas Carlyle so they could publish a new edition of his work—Carlyle told Emerson that was fine (!)—and then to eventually set up his own house.
As soon as he was on his own, Putnam reached out to his friend Washington Irving about bringing his books, then out of print, back in new editions. He offered Irving royalties of $1,000 for the first year, to which Irving said, “Here is a fool of a publisher going to give me a thousand dollars a year for doing nothing.” (By his death, Irving had received $75,000 in royalties, and Putnam, of course, made out quite well too).
But let’s backtrack a bit: while Putman was working in London with Wiley, Edgar Allan Poe, unknown to them, showed up at their office. He had with him with a manuscript about a disastrous whaling voyage written by a sailer from Nantucket who died on the trip, but whose manuscript had been salvaged. At the time, a heralded Arctic voyage was a trending topic for the public, so Putnam, wise to market winds, immediately offered Poe. Poe told Putnam that the sailor’s widow was in desperate need of funds, so could he please rush it to press. Putnam sent it to the printer unread.
When the first review came out, Putnam realized he had been conned. The book was, of course, fiction, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket. Poe had made it all up, including the impoverished widow.
From now on, Putnam pledged, he would read everything all the way to the end before he sent it to the printers!
But wait! Putnam and Poe’s story continues. A few years later, in 1848, Poe showed up again, this time at Putnam’s New York office, and very drunk. He said we was “working on a book which would disclose the secret of the universe” and demanded a desk where he could sit down and write it.
The next morning, when Putnam showed up at work, there was Poe, still, writing. He stayed there all that day, night, and the next day. Then he got walked in to Putnam’s office, threw his completed manuscript, Eureka, on the publisher’s desk, and suggested an initial print run of one million copies. Putnam said okay but only 750. It sold 500 copies.*
So: how did Edgar Allan Poe get famous? Well, the Tips For Writers we can take from this are: 1.) con your publisher, using a timely, marketable lie to get a contract, and 2.) be a presumptuous, arrogant, and a jerk. It’s one way to get into the canon!
Which canonical writer would you like me to research next? Sounds off in the replies!
Oh hey: I’m teaching my book proposal course again in May. Join me!
*All the above from John Tebbel’s Between Covers: The Rust and Transformation of Book Publishing in America
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