Hartford, Oct. 21/81.
Dear Sir:
I sincerely wish I could suggest something, but it is too difficult a case—indeed it is next to an impossible ‸one‸. You make a conclusive argument against your book: first, when you mention your age; second, when ‸you‸ state what your life has been. Experience of life ‸(not of books),‸ is the only capital usable in such a book as you have attempted; one can make no judicious use of this capital while it is new—& yours is new, since you are but [21. I] do not see how any but a colossal genius can write a readable ‸prose-‸book before he is 30 years old. Such books have been written, but never by any but gigantic geniuses—like those [Brontè] sisters, for instance. And yet even they were enabled to do it only because they had a capital of experience to draw from which was nearly as prodigious as their genius. Moderate talent can produce a readable book at 30 or 40, after a good, honest, diligent, pains-taking apprenticeship of 15 or 20 years with the pen; but moderate talent cannot do it without such age & such apprenticeship. You will have to produce & burn as much manuscript as the rest of us have done before your mill will yield something that is really worth printing. Ours is a trade which has to be learned—there is no getting around that requirement by any sort of possibility—& the average genius cannot learn it in five years, or ten either, unless he begins with a rich & varied capital of experience behind him.
By what you say, I conceive that the much the largest part of your capital is borrowed capital: borrowed from books—that is to say, paper money, borrowed from many foreign countries. The‸re‸ir is a fearful discount upon that sort of currency in the commerce of literature.
Often a fair poem, or sermon, or volume of philosophy may be can be written by a gifted man, with no capital to draw from but imagination & a profound ignorance of life & men—but books of the sort which you have described, cannot.
If you have good reason to believe that you possess a really great & conspicuous genius, I would advise that you stick to your pen; but if you have reason to believe otherwise, I would advise you to put it aside or use it merely for your amusement.
I would not wound you for the world; but if I have nevertheless done it, you have your revenge, since I have sacrificed my day to you: for he that desires to do the best work he can, doth not put a part of his day’s steam into a letter, first, & then [try] work with a three-quarter head of it on a book afterward., you know. But no matter—the day is of no consequence, & I had a strong desire to say some things to you which I honestly believed might be of value & service to you.
I have been frank: one has seldom a right to be otherwise; but I have been far from meaning to be harsh.
Truly Yours
S. L. Clemens
Mr. Bruce W. Munro | Newcastle, | Ontario | Canada [return address:] return to s. l. clemens, hartford, conn., if not delivered within 10 days. [postmarked:] hartford conn. oct 22 12 m [and] toronto ont am oc 24 81 [and] newcastle ont oc 24 81
Textual Commentary
Source text(s):Previous publication:
Karanovich 1991, 5–16, with MS facsimile; MicroPUL, reel 2; Sotheby’s catalog, 19 June 2003, lot 48, partial publication and partial MS facsimile.
Provenance:
Offered for sale on 19 June 2003 from the collection of Nick Karanovich.
Emendations and textual notes:
21. I • ~.— | ~
Brontè • [sic]
try • [‘y’ partly formed]
