TRANSITION AND INTERNATIONALISM AS PRAXIS Celia Aijmer Rydsjö and AnnKatrin Jonsson The modernists were expatriates, travellers and translators, and studies of the early twentieth century often employ the terms ‘internationalism’, ‘transnationalism’ and ‘cosmopolitanism’. Today these concepts can all be regarded under the umbrella term ‘globalisation’, which is a concept of more recent date. 1 As numerous historians, sociologists and political scientists have noted, the history of globalisation is one of a long and multidimensional process, especially if the term implies a combination of intensified global interconnections and interdependencies and an increasing critical awareness of these processes. 2 Unsurprisingly then, the modernist period has attracted substantial attention in globalisation studies. As Melba Cuddy- Keane points out, the period around the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth is often regarded as a starting point for the modern globalisation process. 3 For example, political scientist David Held and sociologist Roland Robertson both recognise the first stages of a ‘global consciousness’ appearing in the second half of the nineteenth 1 The noun ‘globalisation’ first appeared in the American Merriam Webster dictionary in 1961. 2 See for example, Robertson, R., Globalisation: Social Theory and Global Culture (London, 1992); Waters, M., Globalisation, (London/New York, 1995). 3 Cuddy-Keane, M., ‘Modernism, Geopolitics, Globalization’, Modernism/modernity, 10:3 (2003), pp. 539-540. 1
This document is posted to help you gain knowledge. Please leave a comment to let me know what you think about it! Share it to your friends and learn new things together.
Transcript
TRANSITION AND INTERNATIONALISM AS PRAXIS
Celia Aijmer Rydsjö and AnnKatrin Jonsson
The modernists were expatriates, travellers and translators,
and studies of the early twentieth century often employ the
terms ‘internationalism’, ‘transnationalism’ and
‘cosmopolitanism’. Today these concepts can all be regarded
under the umbrella term ‘globalisation’, which is a concept of
more recent date.1 As numerous historians, sociologists and
political scientists have noted, the history of globalisation
is one of a long and multidimensional process, especially if
the term implies a combination of intensified global
interconnections and interdependencies and an increasing
critical awareness of these processes.2
Unsurprisingly then, the modernist period has attracted
substantial attention in globalisation studies. As Melba Cuddy-
Keane points out, the period around the end of the nineteenth
century and the beginning of the twentieth is often regarded as
a starting point for the modern globalisation process.3 For
example, political scientist David Held and sociologist Roland
Robertson both recognise the first stages of a ‘global
consciousness’ appearing in the second half of the nineteenth
1 The noun ‘globalisation’ first appeared in the American Merriam Webster dictionary in 1961.2 See for example, Robertson, R., Globalisation: Social Theory and Global Culture (London,1992); Waters, M., Globalisation, (London/New York, 1995).3 Cuddy-Keane, M., ‘Modernism, Geopolitics, Globalization’, Modernism/modernity, 10:3 (2003), pp. 539-540.
1
century.4 While agreeing with the historical outline presented
by these scholars, Cuddy-Keane finds potential limitations in
any strictly economic or political description of a rising
global awareness. She argues instead for the relevance of art
and aesthetics as an integrated part of the investigation of
changing perceptions of nation-states and social and
geographical spaces. In her reading, modernist literary styles
and techniques create multiple perspectives and a pluralism
that engender an alternative ‘cultural and critical’ discourse
on globalisation. This critical discourse ‘deflects the
appropriation of “globalisation” for a process driven and
determined solely by economics, claiming cultural globalisation
as an equally important, if indeed not earlier, development’.5
Rebecca L. Walkowitz’s Cosmopolitan Style: Modernism Beyond the
Nation offers another relevant analysis of internationality in
modernism, in which she coins the term ‘critical
cosmopolitanism’, characterised by ‘an aversion to heroic tones
of appropriation and progress, and a suspicion of
epistemological privilege, views from above or from the centre
that assume a consistent distinction between who is seeing and
what is seen’.6 Both Cuddy-Keane and Walkowitz explore the
aesthetic, ethical, political and cultural aspects of
cosmopolitanism, and both represent attempts to address the
4 Held et al. ascribes the modern period of globalisation to the years between 1850 and 1945, while Robertson understands the period between 1879 and 1925 as the take-off phase for globalisation. See Held et al., Global Transformations: Politics, Economics and Culture (Cambridge, 1999).5 Cuddy-Keane, ‘Modernism’, p. 540.6 Walkowitz, R., Cosmopolitan Style: Modernism Beyond the Nation, (New York, 2006), p. 2.
2
formal properties of literature, a dimension lacking in much
cultural criticism of the 1990s.
However, even if a reconceptualisation of globalisation
and cosmopolitanism is at stake in the works of these critics,
their interest is primarily in individual modernist writers and
narrative strategies such as perspectivism, focalisation,
pluralism, self-reflexivity and collage.7 This means that both
projects remain philosophical and literary ventures, fixed
within an abstract textual sphere.
Internationality in modernism can also be approached from
a different perspective, primarily by addressing concrete
historical events and cosmopolitan experience – meaning the
crossing, questioning and destabilising of national borders.
Although the identification of aesthetic models of openness
towards different cultural expressions is a valid project, it
is not enough to consider modernist art as merely a reflection
or critique of historical processes such as globalisation,
imperialism or new communication technologies. We wish to draw
attention to modernism’s very real and practical concerns about
internationalism. This involvement can be seen as a praxis,
meaning that time and place are always specific and specified.
Moreover, cultural production involves money and a market. Most
importantly, it includes agency. As Patricia Clavin puts it,
‘transnationalism is first and foremost about people: the
social space that they inhabit, the networks they form and the
ideas they exchange’.8
7 Walkowitz’s argument also includes the contemporary writers Kazuo Ishiguro, Salman Rushdie and W. G. Sebald. 8 Clavin, P., ‘Defining Transnationalism’, Contemporary European History, 14: 4 (2005), p. 422.
3
By examining these concrete social spaces, it is possible
to learn more about the mechanisms of international networking
and its effects, but also about modernism per se. As we will
show in our analysis of the little magazine transition, published
in Paris and New York between 1927 and 1938,9 the emphasis on
creating, assembling and undermining the concept of art is
intricately linked with the idea of questioning and
destabilising national borders.10 Jolas’s interpretation of
internationality is interesting, not least since his thoughts
on border crossings and their relation to art coincide with
more recent accounts. For example, transnationalism, as Clavin
expresses it (2005), ‘carries a poetic potency’ that entails
transformation:
‘Border crossings’ permits the study of encounters that both
attract and repel, between people, institutions and artefacts
of all kinds, which are represented and analysed through a
host of different types of evidence. (…) [T]he notion of
‘border crossing’ does suggests [sic] a horizontal movement
through frontiers, be they of a nation or a differently
defined social culture. The expression also carries with it
the implication that, through these crossings, borders break
down.11
9 A total of 27 issues were published, the first appearing in April 1927 andthe last in April-May 1938. However, publication was suspended between the issue 19/20 and 21 from June 1930 to March 1932.10 When transition changed from a monthly to a quarterly magazine with the thirteenth issue in the summer of 1928, it took the subtitle ‘An International Quarterly for Creative Experiment’. In 1932, this subtitle was replaced, but the international emphasis was maintained as it became ‘An International Workshop for Orphic Creation’.11 Clavin, ‘Defining Transnationalism’, p. 423.
4
Although the idea of a universal art that bridges differences
across national borders is essentially romantic, the emphasis
on praxis, on ‘doing’, is, as we suggest, a decidedly modernist
feature. Our contention is that transition points to an essential
element of modernism, one that indicates how international
interconnectivity becomes praxis, as ideas, work and practices
literally cross and question borders.
The example of transition
The editor of transition, Eugene Jolas,12 had an interest in
language and art beyond national boundaries that can in part be
explained by his background. Born in 1894 to immigrant parents
in New Jersey, the young Eugene was raised in the bilingual
French-German culture of Alsace Lorraine. In the introduction
to Jolas’s autobiography, Man from Babel, Andreas Kramer and
Rainer Rumold discuss how Jolas’s experiences from this region
inspired the publication of transition and fuelled his ambition
to make the magazine a forum for and promoter of
internationalism.13 At the age of fifteen, Jolas immigrated to
New York, before finally heading back to Europe in 1923, now
fluent in English as well as German and French. Jolas describes
the confusion that arises from using three world languages,
while also envisioning the possibility of a new, international
language:
12 transition was founded by Eugene Jolas and his wife Maria Jolas, the latter was also an unofficial co-editor. Its associate editors were Elliot Paul (1927-1928), Robert Sage (1928-1929), and James John Sweeney (1936-1937).13 Kramer and Rumold, eds., ‘Introduction’, in Man from Babel, pp. xvi-xvii.
5
Language became a neurosis. I used three of the basic world
languages in conversation, in poetry and in my newspaper
work. I was never able to decide which of them I preferred.
An almost inextricable chaos ensued, and sometimes I sought
the facile escape by intermingling the three. I dreamed a new
language, a super-tongue for inter-continental expression
(…).14
Jolas’s trilingualism came to affect his career and his
thoughts about modern art, language and writing in significant
ways. Aspiring as a youth to become a great poet, he sent his
English poetry to Pearson’s Magazine, only to be informed by the
editor that great poetry could only be written in one’s native
tongue.15 Jolas was unmoved by this verdict and never let
himself be restrained from expressing himself in whatever
language he chose. His lack of identification with any
particular language was instead developed into an asset,
increasingly taking the shape of dreams about a new
international language.
In the February 1929 issue of transition, for example, Jolas
stresses the need for a ‘universal word’.16 The characteristics
of this universal or international language remains somewhat
unclear, although Jolas envisaged the ‘language of the future’
as absorbing ‘Anglo-Saxon, Greco-Latin, Celtic, Indian,
Spanish, French, Canadian French, German, Pennsylvania German,
Dutch, Hebrew, the Slavic and Slavonic languages, American
slanguage and all the elements of language now active on
14 Jolas, Man from Babel, p. 2.15 Ibidem, pp. 49-50.16 Jolas, ‘Super-Occident’, transition 15, Feb. 1929, p. 15.
6
American soil’.17 The editor of transition acknowledged the need
for a literature with a multilingual component, published
multilingual poems and encouraged others to also do so. These
language experiments were not merely an expression of
linguistic creativity. Jolas also nurtured the utopian dream
that a multilingual language could pave the way for a new
society: ‘The new vocabulary and the new syntax must help
destroy the ideology of a rotting civilisation’.18 For Jolas, internationalism and transnationalism became practical
strategies to create a new ideology and new values.
Putting modernism into public practice
Despite its radicalism and elevation of literary
experimentation, transition has to a certain extent remained
marginalised by literary critics, while Eugene Jolas has often
been described as an eccentric character on the periphery of
high modernism. Although transition promoted now iconic writers
such as James Joyce, Gertrude Stein, Franz Kafka, Samuel
Beckett and Ernest Hemingway (to name only a few), its editor
has perhaps been perceived as being too much of a romantic
idealist to earn a position among modernism’s prominent
figures.19 Fearing the destructive forces of nationalism, Jolas
17Jolas, Man from Babel, p. 273.18 Jolas, ‘Super-Occident’, p. 15. See also Perloff, M., ‘“Logocinéma of theFrontiersman”: Eugene Jolas’s Multilingual Poetics and Its Legacies’ http://epc.buffalo.edu/authors/perloff/jolas.html, 2010-06-11.19 Another reason why Eugene Jolas remained a marginal figure is the reluctance of literary studies to shift its focus from the literary work itself or its author, to include issues of production and distribution. See
used transition to expound his ideas on a future of nation-free
universalism: ‘We dont [sic] want to be good Europeans, but
good universalists. Asia, Europe, the two Americas interest us
as much as any narrow ideological Fascistic conception of the
West. There can emerge a beautiful rivalry out of such a
universal competition of the spirits’.20A self-proclaimed
romanticist, Jolas wanted ‘to encourage the creation of a
modern romanticism, a pan-romantic movement in literature and
the arts’.21
Jolas’s references in this context were primarily
contemporary, as he ascribed the romanticist tendencies of the
modern epoch to ‘Expressionism, Dadaism, Surrealism, even
simultaneism’, the common enemy being ‘shallow realism’.22 What
was at stake, however, was less a matter of Jolas’s capacities
as a writer or his literary preferences – his belief in the
spiritual qualities of art, or the degree to which romanticism
can be distinguished from modernism – than how he put his ideas
into practice. Indeed, as his publications reveal, Jolas was
less interested in philosophical quandaries or artistic ideals
per se, than how to live those ideals, how to communicate them,
where to live, what cultural and national identity to belong
for example, Bornstein, Material Modernism: The Politics of the Page (Cambridge, 2001).20 Jolas, ‘On the Quest’, transition 9, Dec.1927, p. 168.21 Jolas, Man from Babel, p. 93, emphasis added.22 Ibidem, p. 152. Although Eugene Jolas introduced surrealism to English readers, he finally bade ‘definitive adieu’ to the movement in 1940 on the grounds of feeling that ‘mere demonological resistance to totalitarian menace was not enough’, ibidem, p. 188. In re-reading the German romanticists he also found that they had ‘a certain share of responsibilityfor the genesis of Nazi ideas’ in their predilection for the ‘totalitarian state, for anti-semitism’ and the belief in German superiority, ibidem, pp. 221-222.
8
to, how to publish, in what language, what form, how to make
the right connections and how to make a living. Jolas’s
romantic idealism was never primarily an expression of
authority, but rather an ongoing pragmatic quest for new ways
of life and new ways of communicating.
Importantly, Jolas’s visions of a new language and a new
world order were not harboured in private, and the
international impulse in transition is not directed inwards. Mark
Morrisson’s study of little magazines, The Public Face of Modernism:
Little Magazines, Audiences, and Reception, 1905-1920, is especially
noteworthy in this context as it draws attention to the public
nature of such British and American magazines and the ways in
which these were engaged in the public sphere and commercial
culture. According to Morrisson, little magazines share the
core assumption ‘that art must have a public function’. The
public nature of the little magazine is itself a breach of
allegedly modernist ideals, often described in terms of a
‘great divide’ between elitist art and mass audiences.23 This
means that even if the editors and contributors saw their work
as aesthetic, they challenged the tendency to isolate the
aesthetic experience and deny it social significance.24
Jolas’s publication transition provides a case in point for
the social and practical function of little magazines. In the
words of surrealist Philippe Soupault, transition was ‘not (…) a
game in which only the form was considered, but rather a project
23 See for example, Huyssen, A., After the Great Divide: Modernism, Mass Culture, Postmodernism (Bloomington, 1986).24 Morrisson, M., The Public Face of Modernism: Little Magazines, Audiences, and Reception, 1905-1920 (Madison, Wisconsin, 2001).
9
for an entente between action and poetry’.25 Indeed, the editors of
transition display a staunch belief in the transformative power
of their publications. For example, in the early years of
transition’s existence, Jolas met with his expressionist German
friends Carl Einstein and Hans Arp to discuss ways in which to
combat the rise of German nationalism with ‘a new expressionist
ethos’.26 The same belief in the political function of art
informs the last issue of transition, no. 27 of April-May 1938.
In this issue, the editor collected ‘such intellectual and
artistic forces of Europe and America as were not already
enslaved by the shallow realism that had been introduced by the
totalitarians’.27
Jolas never expressed a political faith in institutions or
a consistent ethical position. Nevertheless, the bond he
created between the transnational, the social and the aesthetic
was not limited to his writing. Jolas’s internationalist
thoughts were always associated with his actions, whether by
seeking out international communities, publishing, writing or
translating. This work would have appealed to an editor, and
Jolas did not see his career in journalism as a detraction from
his deep commitment to multilingual art and experimentation –
the roles of the poet and the journalist, the little magazine
editor and the newspaper interviewer of movie stars never
clashed. From an early age, Jolas dreamt of becoming a
newspaper man,28 and while certainly proud of Joyce’s ‘Work in
25 Soupault, P., ‘ Transition and France’, transition 19/20, June 1930, p. 376,emphasis added.26 McMillan, D., transition 1927-38: The History of a Literary Era (London 1975), p. 53.27 Jolas, Man from Babel, p. 152.28 Ibidem, p. 26.
10
Progress’ appearing in transition, he acknowledged that it was
primarily newspaper work that made him conscious of the ‘malady
of language’ and encouraged him to find ways in which to
facilitate the journalist’s task by ‘using a more precise,
richer and more fluid speech’.29 30
Practical matters: location, financing and networks
The same pragmatic approach determined the location of
transition. In Paris, the city of light and culture in the 1920s
and 1930s,31 transition as well as other little magazines could
flourish. During these decades Paris became a gathering place
for artists, writers and intellectuals and thus became the
setting for social exchange between creative individuals of
many nationalities.32 Evidently, Paris was not the only
European city offering this kind of creative and resourceful
milieu: Munich, Vienna, St Petersburg and Barcelona were also
important modernist and avant-garde hubs at this time. However,
the neighbourhoods on the left bank of the Seine have become
legendary, partly because of the attraction they held for 29 Ibidem, pp. 108-109.30 As the Second World War was approaching, Jolas seems to have felt the need for more direct action. The last issue of transition was published in 1938, and during the war Jolas once again became a journalist and a newspaper man, dedicated to fighting fascism and Nazism. In 1941 he startedworking for the US Office of War Information which brought him to London, Normandy and, after the war, to Germany where he helped establish a new German press, McMillan, transition, p. 73.31 Three issues, no. 24-26, were, however, edited, printed and published in New York, as Jolas returned to the US in 1936 in order to take up journalism again. The very last issue of transition, no. 27, was published back in Paris in 1938.32 See for example, Ford, H. D., Published in Paris: American and British Writers, Printers, and Publishers in Paris, 1920-1939 (London, 1975); Fitch, N. R., Sylvia Beach and the LostGeneration: A History of Literary Paris in the Twenties and Thirties (New York, 1983).
11
different social groups, especially affluent Americans. Not
only did the inflow of money stimulate an extravagant
nightlife, it also provided possibilities for little magazines
such as transition, and small presses such as Sylvia Beach’s
Shakespeare & Company, publisher of James Joyce’s Ulysses.33 These
magazines and presses were not dependent on making a financial
profit, a crucial aspect when it came to introducing,
legitimising and canonising modernist and avant-garde texts.34
It is a well-known fact that Shakespeare & Company relied on
Sylvia Beach’s family funds.35 However, the dependence of
transition on the inheritance of Maria Jolas, the editor’s wife,
is less recognised. Neither Eugene Jolas nor Dougald McMillan
ever disclosed the financial sources behind transition,36 though
Maria Jolas revealed something of her contribution to the
little magazine in her autobiography, where it is mentioned in
passing in a single sentence in her biographical chronology:
‘1924 Visiting in Louisville, where my father died of a stroke
33 In Published in Paris, Ford mentions twelve small presses run by Englishmen and Americans in France between the wars. Apart from Shakespeare & Company,others included Three Mountains Press, Contact Editions, Black Sun Press, Black Manikin Press and Obelisk Press, pp. 404-15.34 See Rainey, L., Institutions of Modernism: Literary Elites and Public Culture (New Haven/London, 1999).35 Sylvia Beach’s mother, Eleanor Orbison Beach, managed to find the capitalneeded to start the bookshop, which amounted to 3,000 dollars; Fitch, Sylvia Beach, pp. 38-40.36 Although it was Maria Jolas’s inheritance that made transition possible at all, and despite the fact that her contribution to transition is noteworthy and indeed vital, neither Eugene Jolas’s autobiography nor Dougald McMillan’s study of transition acknowledge her extensively. Maria Jolas’s autobiography, however, is appropriately entitled Maria Jolas, Woman of Action. Maria Jolas translated extensively for the little magazine, including wholeworks by, for example, James Joyce, Nathalie Sarraute and Gaston Bachelard.She was the magazine’s secretary and thus handled the finances and most correspondence, for example with Frances Steloff, the owner of the Gotham Book Mart, the official American agent for transition from 1928.
12
in June; left me financially independent (later made transition,
then my school possible)’.37
Eugene Jolas’s contempt for borders and nations, and his
knowledge of the major European languages helped him create
connections and contacts with the avant-garde in Paris and in
several other European cities, a vital part of his work with
transition. In the United States he had met many writers, and
while compiling Anthologie de la nouvelle poésie américaine (1928), had
corresponded with several of them.38 Through his work as a
reporter at the Chicago Tribune he also knew many artists and
writers, both American and European, living in Paris.39 These
contacts, together with a gift for striking up and forming
relationships, became vital aspects of the practical
internationalism of transition. In fact, the importance of
Jolas’s own efforts when it came to forming relationships with
the European avant-garde through personal encounters and
extensive travel cannot be overrated. Each issue of transition
provides ample evidence of the efforts of Jolas and the other
editors, as contributions came from across Europe, including
from those involved in the movements of expressionism (for
example, Doeblin, Benn, Grosz, Kafka, Edschmid, Stramm, Lasker-
Schüler, Trakl, Schickele, Sternheim), dadaism (for example,
Ball, Huelsenbeck, Arp, Schwitters) and surrealism (for
example, Bréton, Aragon, Soupault, Desnos, Eluard, Gracq). In 37 Jolas, M., ‘Dateline’, Maria Jolas, Woman of Action: A Memoir and Other Writings, p.2. 38 McMillan, transition, p. 16.39 Through his work as a journalist, Jolas met and interviewed writers and artists who later would become contributors to transition. They included Philippe Soupault, Léon-Paul Fargue, Tristan Tzara, Hans Arp, Sophie Taeuber-Arp, André Breton, Paul Eluard, Robert Desnos, Michel Leiris and many more. See Jolas, Man from Babel, pp. 65-86.
13
and through transition, Jolas created a modernist avant-garde
network, and these international networking skills awakened the
interest of The Servire Press, providing him with the
opportunity to resume the publication of transition in 1932. The
Dutch modernist press wanted to publish recent works from
different parts of the world, and Jolas had a reputable name
when it came to finding and translating new works of high
literary quality.40
Foreign influences
The sharing of texts across national borders should properly be
seen as one key to the wide influence of the modernist
movement, but the importance of translations to modernist
poetics has been sadly neglected.41 From the outset, transition
had the ambition of inspiring enthusiasm for world literature,
and even in the first issue more than one-third of the
contributions were translations. Several of these were carried
out by the editors themselves, Eugene Jolas and Elliot Paul,
and by the unofficial editor, Maria Jolas. Over the years,
Italian, Polish, Spanish, Swedish, Yiddish and Native American
contributions appeared in translation.
The publication of literary works in translation was
intended to bring about a revolution in what Jolas felt to be
an obsolete English language. However, this ambition was
40 McMillan, transition, p. 62.41 Two exceptions are Stephen G. Yao, Translation and the Languages of Modernism: Gender, Politics, Language and Daniel Katz, American Modernism’s Expatriate Scene: The Labour of Translation.
14
increasingly felt to be insufficient. As Craig Monk notes,
Jolas eventually felt that translation should be dispensed with
altogether, since this was the only way one could remain
faithful to the writer’s creativity and intentions.42 To
publish in the original became the next step in the ‘revolution
of the word’. In February 1933, issue no. 22, Jolas writes:
‘With this issue, transition enters upon a new policy of tri-
lingual publication. The crisis of language is now going on in
every part of the Occident. It seems, therefore, essential to
retain the linguistic creative material intact, and to present
constructive work, as much as possible, in the original’ ().43
To publish in the original language becomes yet another way to
disintegrate what Jolas sees as ‘the banal word’ and thus
liberate ‘the creative expression’.44
The many translations published by the editors and Maria
Jolas only constitute one example of the very practical work
involved in making transition a successful promoter of the
international avant-garde. Distribution of the publication,
especially in the United States, was a particular concern. If
the English language and its literature were to be revitalised
by the literature of other countries, it was crucial that
foreign literature gained access to the American continent.
From the outset, transition had a difficult time making it
through the US customs or postal authorities, as US officials
often deemed the contents of the little magazine obscene or in
violation of, for example, the obscenity provisions of the US
42 Monk, ‘Eugene Jolas and the Translation Policies of Transition’, Mosaic 32: 4(1999), p. 17. 43 Jolas, ‘Night Through Night’ transition 22, Feb. 1933, p. 177.44 Jolas, ‘Statement’, transition 18, Nov. 1929, p. 175.
15
Postal Code. The presence of James Joyce in the contents list
was presumably enough to have US officials confiscate the
shipments of transition. Ulysses had been banned since 1918 in the
US, and as transition published instalments of Joyce’s ‘Work in
Progress’, which later became Finnegan’s Wake, there were frequent
shipping problems. The US distribution, however, was much helped
by Frances Steloff, the owner and founder of Gotham Book Mart
in New York – the official American agent for transition. An
ardent advocator of freedom of speech for writers, Steloff was
among the first to recognise and promote authors such as James
Joyce, Gertrude Stein, Henry Miller, Kay Boyle and André
Gide.45
The many problems with the shipping and distribution of
transition gave the editors the opportunity to vent their
contempt for the US authorities. In transition issue no. 8,
November 1927, Jolas and Paul mocked the customs officials and
‘their understudies’:
As was expected, transition has afforded the United States
officials, and their understudies in the various
commonwealths, continuous opportunities to display their
maudlin instincts.
No. 3 was found by Mr. Fuller, manager of the Old Corner
Book Store of Boston, arsewiper to the late J. Frank Chase,
and the patron saint of the book review pages of the Boston
45 By advertising and selling avant-garde novels, poetry and literary reviews, Gotham Book Mart attracted the attention of censors on several occasions, and on one such occasion, in 1928, the police confiscated more than 80 titles in the store. See Gertzman J. A., Bookleggers and Smuthounds:The Trade in Erotica, 1920-1940 (Philadelphia, 1999), p. 113.
16
Herald and the Boston Transcript to contain material in
violation of the Massachusetts law.
No. 4 was turned back by the Philadelphia customs
officials on the ground that it was copyrighted material.
No. 5 was held up needlessly and without justification
for weeks by the port authorities of New York.
No. 6 has been confiscated by the same gentlemen and
refused admission on the ground that it contained obscene
matter.
Needless to say, the editors of transition, being more than
sixteen years of age and of sound mind, have no respect
whatever for the law, and certainly none for the underpaid
and scant-witted crew the citizens of the Unites States hire
to annoy them. Occasionally it may be necessary to print a
few extra copies in order to circumvent them, but our
subscribers will be served and the bookstores will be
supplied. (…) Since the newspaper writers from coast to coast
have declared transition to be utterly unintelligible, and have
proved conclusively from their comments that it was, in fact,
quite meaningless to them, any claim that the magazine is
likely to corrupt the morals of American youth seem far
fetched.
Naturally, we shall continue to print whatever we think
best (…).46
The tone is dismissive and the word choice displays contempt
but also triumph, befitting an avant-garde review. However, the
battle against censorship was not primarily fought on the
printed page. The circumvention of the censorship authorities
46 Jolas and Sage, ‘The Pursuit of Happiness’, transition 8, Nov. 1927, p. 179-80.
17
in the US had to be handled very practically, as numerous extra
shipments and reprints were needed to supply American readers.
In this context the correspondence between Maria Jolas and
Frances Steloff is particularly revealing, as it voices their
concerns regarding the US customs’ confiscations and the need
for new shipments and reprints of transition.47
Wider implications
The prominent position given to international themes and
practices in transition and other Paris reviews can be regarded as
a strategic distancing from the standards of past publications,
bound to national canons. As we suggest, this is an aspect of
transition that underscores its modernist agenda. From this
perspective our argument diverges from, for example, Craig
Monk’s analysis of transition, which places the little magazine
in a romantic, expansionist tradition. Monk argues that
transition contributed to a ‘new understanding of “tradition”
that drew on the related achievements of artists working in any
number of languages’ and that Jolas desired an ‘expanded
understanding of literary tradition based on greater cultural
communication’.48 It is debatable, however, whether Jolas
wished for an expanded literary tradition or canon, built on
increased cross-cultural understanding. The aim of transition was
hardly to preserve art as tradition or as an institution; more
accurately, its aim was to challenge the conventions of the
47 See Frances Steloff’s correspondence with Maria Jolas in the Gotham Book Mart Records, 1928-1948, Berg Collection, New York Public Library, New York. 48 Monk, ‘Eugene Jolas’, p. 21.
18
publishing industry that had shaped nationalistic canons and
thus, in a manner, had monopolised tradition.49 From this
perspective, Jolas’s elevation of internationalism and
transnationalism should be seen as performing a different task
from that of ‘bring[ing] together diverse peoples, eras[ing]
borders between the European nations (…) produc[ing] a large
cosmopolitan and international consciousness’.50 The
publication of transition can instead be seen as an effort to
disrupt romantic views on the autonomy of art and the link
between nation, culture and language. This attempt also
represented a desire to intervene, linguistically and
aesthetically, with nationalist discourses that were gaining
ground at the time.
The genre of the little magazine would have appealed to
Jolas. In his role as editor, he was free to create a personal
montage of international contributions. Even if it is possible
to see transition as an avant-garde modernist publication on the
basis of the editors’ wishes to revolutionise and
internationalise art and language, it would be a mistake to
call transition an avant-garde publication on the basis of the
texts it features. Certainly, not all of the texts in any one
issue of transition can be called avant-garde; not even the
majority can be said to be driven by the ambition to
revolutionise art. For example, translated short stories by the49 Indeed, transition in many ways seems to meet Peter Bürger’s now classic definition of the avant-garde in his Theory of the Avant-Garde as a movement which criticised the very institution of art. That is, while modernism is seen by Bürger as an internal critique of writing practices, effective within the framework of art, he believes that the avant-garde should be understoodas an attack on the institution of art and its lack of influence outside its own framework.50 Perloff, ‘Logocinéma’, p. 17.
19
Swedish writer Hjalmar Söderberg (hardly in the avant-garde
frontline) were published on two occasions and were featured
between texts by James Joyce and Gertrude Stein and
reproductions of paintings by Max Ernst and Pablo Picasso.51
The point is therefore not that all of the international
contributions to transition were avant-garde in character, but
rather that the genre of the little magazine itself, with its
conglomerate of texts and illustrations, challenged the
institution of art and the established institutions that upheld
art. The magazine wished to provide a ‘new outlet’ in the
publishing industry.
It is highly remarkable that the editors of transition
return again and again to their hopes that the little magazine
could provide the basis for a new literature and, most
importantly, a new way of life. In one of the first issues,
Jolas and Elliot Paul claim that transition should be the
‘quintessence of the modern spirit in evolution’. ‘We believe’,
they wrote, ‘in the ideology of revolt against all diluted and
synthetic poetry’ and are willing to embrace ‘the immense
lyricism and madness of illogic’.52
[There] is no hope for poetry unless there be disintegration
first. We need words, new abstractions, new hieroglyphics,
new symbols, new myths (…) We who live in the chaotic age,
are we not aware that living itself is an inferno? And having
51 transition 1, April 1927, transition 5 August 1927.52 Jolas and Paul, ‘Suggestions for a New Magic’. transition 3, June 1927, p. 178.
20
experienced it, can we not express it by seeking new outlets and
new regions of probability?53
The little magazine, transition, with its ambition to break down
national barriers and stake out new regions, sought to be precisely
such an outlet for new abstraction and symbols of the ‘modern
spirit in evolution’.54 In issue no. 15, the two editors
express themselves in a similar vein: ‘Literature alone does
not suffice. We also have to mediate about the motives and
directions of our being. We must seek the true conditions of
life around and within us, in order to avoid becoming esthetes
of a dying decade’.55 Jolas and Paul never seem to give up
their conviction that the word was powerful enough to recreate
humanity and the world.
As we have argued, transition is best analysed in terms of
function and reception rather than aesthetics alone. Our
examples show that we need to recognise the making of the
little magazine as a social practice – a praxis. To investigate the
little magazine as a genre it is necessary to involve a much
greater number of agents and mediators. We must look at
contributors, distributors and readers, amongst others. Only
then does the true internationality of Jolas’s project become
visible. On a wider scale, by looking at modernism or the
avant-garde as a broader and much more practice-oriented
cultural phenomenon we attain a more complex view of the
movement and the significance of its social infrastructure.53 Ibidem, p. 179, emphasis added.54 Ibidem, p. 178.55 Jolas, ‘Notes’ transition 15, Feb. 1929, p. 187.
21
Bibliography
Bornstein, G. Material Modernism: The Politics of the Page (Cambridge,
2001).
Bürger, P., Theory of the Avant-Garde, Transl. Michael Shaw
(Minneapolis, 1984).
Clavin, P., ‘Defining Transnationalism’, Contemporary European
History, 14: 4 (2005), pp. 421-439.
22
Cuddy-Keane, M., ‘Modernism, Geopolitics, Globalization’,
Modernism/modernity, 10:3 (2003), pp. 539-558.
Fitch, N. R., Sylvia Beach and the Lost Generation: A History of Literary Paris in
the Twenties and Thirties (New York, 1983).
Ford, H. D., Published in Paris: American and British Writers, Printers, and
Publishers in Paris, 1920-1939 (London, 1975).
Gertzman, J. A., Bookleggers and Smuthounds: The Trade in Erotica, 1920-
1940 (Philadelphia, 1999).
Held, D., A. McGrew, D. Goldblatt, and J. Perraton, Global
Transformations: Politics, Economics and Culture (Cambridge, 1999).
Huyssen, A., After the Great Divide: Modernism, Mass Culture, Postmodernism
(Bloomington, 1986).
Jolas, E., Man from Babel. Eds. Andreas Kramer and Rainer Rumold.
(New Haven/London, 1998).
Jolas, M., Maria Jolas, Woman of Action: A Memoir and Other Writings. Ed.
Mary Ann Caws (Columbia, South Carolina, 2004).
Katz D., American Modernism’s Expatriate Scene: The Labour of Translation.
(Edinburgh, 2007).
Kramer, A. and R. Rainer, ‘Introduction’, in: Jolas, M., Man
from Babel, pp. xvi-xvii.
McMillan, D., transition, 1927-38: The History of Literary Era (London,
1975).
Monk, C., ‘Eugene Jolas and the Translation Policies of
Transition’, Mosaic 32: 4 (1999), pp. 17-34.
Morrisson, M., The Public Face of Modernism: Little Magazines, Audiences, and
Reception, 1905-1920 (Madison, Wisconsin, 2001).
Perloff, M., ‘“Logocinéma of the Frontiersman”: Eugene Jolas’s