Part II: In which a hyphen is not a hyphen

This is second in a series of six, and possibly seven, posts with the provisional title “Marking Uncle Tom’s Cabin: Typography, Race, and Textual Transmission.” See Part I: In which a space is not a space if you’d like to start at the beginning. This series includes much-revised versions of presentations at the Midwest MLA Conference (Minneapolis, 2008) and the Society for Textual Scholarship (New York, 2008). The revised version is intended as a draft for an article to be submitted to a journal. Comments are appreciated.

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In the two-volume Jewett edition, volume 1, page 106, of Uncle Tom’s Cabin, slavecatcher Tom Loker asks Haley, the trader who purchased Uncle Tom, to provide what his partner Marks will call a retaining fee. Loker and Marks will pursue the child Harry–for Haley–and the mother Eliza for their own profit:

Note the hyphen at the end of the third line of the image. In an editorial sense, when this passage is transcribed, the hyphen is not a hyphen: it is not there. The hyphen that is not a hyphen is not there for many reasons–which this post will explore–but the real reason that the hyphen is not there, I propose, is that the hyphen represents a space that is not quite a space, in the sense that we cannot see it because of a paradigmatic blindness about typographical space. Not all scholars of literature and cultural studies are blind to typographical space in historical printing practices. A comment on Post I in this series, by William Tozier, shows that my original assumption about the blindness of other toilers in the field may have been rash. But I only recognized my own blindness to typographical space with the assistance of many works by Randall McLeod, most recently his “Gerald Hopkins and the Shapes of His Sonnets” (2004), and with the assistance of Peter Burnhill’s Type Spaces (London: Hyphen Press, 2003). But the degree to which my work departs from McLeod’s and Burnhill’s–and may be of more interest to scholars of American literature–concerns the intersection between type space, race, and stereotype during the textual transmission of Stowe’s work, a function of Modernization.

The hyphen could be “not there” in two senses. In the first sense, which is used by the Chicago Manual of Style for the preparation of manuscripts, it could be a soft hyphen, one “used merely to break a word at the end of a line.” The alternative, a hard or permanent hyphen, which “must remain no matter where the hyphenated word or term appears,” can be rejected as impossible, unless the intended word is “does-n’t [sic]” (87). A second sense in which the hyphen is “not there” is provided by the The Modern Language Association’s (MLA) Committee on Scholarly Editions (CSE). The MLA CSE addresses cases that are neither the Chicago Manual’s soft hyphens (“signs of syllabic division used to split a word in two for easier justification”) nor hard hyphens (“signs that a compound word is to be spelled with a hyphen”). Those which fit neither category are “ambiguous,” because it is “unclear whether the word is to be spelled with or without the hyphen” (CSE 36). In a scholarly edition, the editor uses judgment to decide how the word was “intended to be spelled.” After the matter is resolved, the editor must record the emendation in the apparatus. There are two basic choices: 1) “does-n’t [sic]” is an error in which “doesn’t” was intended, 2) Or “does-n’t [sic]” is an error in which “does n’t” was intended. For an authoritative judgment, a scholarly editor consults corollary evidence, which consists, first, of other instances of the same word in this edition, and which consists, second, of the same passage in other authoritative versions of the text.

In the two-volume Jewett edition, the contraction appears 12 more times, and the first use of the word (or words) is by Aunt Chloe:

That’s straightforward. There’s a space, a somewhat thin one, between the s and the n. Trust that if I were to photoquote (the term is Randall McLeod’s) “does n’t” 12 more times the other examples would also have a space, regardless of the speaker’s race, typically a thin one but a space nonetheless. Of course, in the troubling example at the end of the line on pg. 106, we have a hyphen at the end of the line. With confidence that there is usually a space between does and n’t, we will lean toward the hyphen as an error. But if the intent is to cite this passage or prepare an edition, a more conscientious attitude may be required, especially if the caution from MLA Style Manual (2008) echoes in our head: “Accuracy of quotations is extremely important. They must reproduce the original sources exactly” (122).

Stowe had some authority over at least four other versions of the text: the manuscript, the National Era serial version (1851-52), Jewett’s one-volume paperback Edition for the Million (1852/53), Jewett’s one-volume illustrated edition (1853), and Houghton-Osgood’s New Edition (1879). This passage is not present in the surviving manuscript pages. But it does appear in three near contemporary versions on which the author may have had an influence. I’ll photoquote other examples of “does-n’t [sic]” in chronological order of appearance: the serial, which appeared before the Jewett edition; those that followed shortly, the paperback and the illustrated edition; and, for good measure though it appears 27 years later, the last edition in Stowe’s lifetime on which she was intimately involved, the New Edition:

Note: Image size is not proportional. Also, the 3rd image is from the Google facsimile of the Sampson Low edition, a printing that was prepared based on the Jewett illustrated edition plates. The fourth image is also a GoogleBooks microfilm facsimile. I will be scanning the texts for updates to this post.

If we reach a conclusion based on the predominant practice of Jewett’s two-volume edition, there should have been a space. But these examples are also typical of their respective publication form. The National Era practice for contractions was to have no space. But because we have three editions from Jewett, and I’ve checked multiple examples in all three texts, we can make a further surmise. The presence or absence of space in contractions is a matter of design. For the short paperback edition, a trim 166 pages, spaces are generally present in contractions, as they are in the two-volume edition. For the fat illustrated edition with 568 pages, in many copies gilt-edged, with ample margins and copious engravings, the design of typography included omitting spaces in contractions. If Jewett as a publisher had a practice–and I think we can reasonably infer that it did–the act of designing the edition included deciding whether contractions should have a space. The 1879 Houghton-Osgood may carry lesser authority for space in typography, but it at least seems true that a space was thought present, from which we can infer, provisionally, either that the Houghton-Osgood compositor followed the 1852 two-volume copy or followed the design, in which, again, the presence or absence of space in contractions was a matter of concern.

Unfortunately, neither multiple editions nor the publisher’s practice offers any clarity on our original question, the presence of that curious hyphen in “does-n’t [sic].” The paperback edition’s generous typographical space conflicts with its strict economy in other matters: cramped margins, no illustrations, cheap paper. And though the illustrated edition was lavished with larger type, the designer chose to close up the space in contractions. So a transcriber of this text, or an editor who prepares a new edition, must make a surmise about this curious example. This is my surmise. When the compositor for the two-volume Jewett edition decided to place the hyphen at the end of the line, he probably struggled against competing influences. His copy, probably Stowe’s manuscript but possibly a marked up printing of the National Era newspaper, lacked a space before the comma. But the compositor’s instinct to follow copy contrasted with the book’s design, which insisted that contractions have a thin space between the two halves of the contraction. At the end of this line, he compromised awkwardly between the two practices: he inserted a hyphen that stands for a thin space.

That is, in the case of “does-n’t [sic]” at line end, a particular case that finds theoretical justification in the works of Jerome McGann and D. F. McKenzie, the hyphen represents a space that is not quite a space. Why one generic space is not equivalent to another will be the subject of Part III in this series of this post. This surmise can only be supported if our concept of typographical space is both historically sensitive and theoretically sound. While I aim to provide such a background, I must address our own era of computer typesetting, in which we have we have become accustomed to flexible spacing, wherein space as definition of width or space as substitute for line end is a matter of bewildering possibilities. Part III in this series of posts, “In which a hyphen is not a space,” will explore subtle variations in typographical space, from the perspective both of historical printing practices (hand-set type) and digital reproduction (ASCII, TeX, and Unicode). And we’ll turn in Part IV of this series to Modernist attitudes toward typography.

See Part III: In which a hyphen is not a space.

Works Cited

Burnhill, Peter. Type Spaces. London: Hyphen Press, 2003. Print.

Committee on Scholarly Editions. “Guidelines for Editors of Scholarly Editions.” Electronic Textual Editing. Eds. Katherine O’Brien O’Keeffe, et al. New York: Modern Language Association, 2006. Print.

McLeod, Randall. Voice, Text, Hypertext: Emerging Practices in Textual Studies Eds. Raimonda Modiano et al. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2004, 177-297. Print.

Modern Language Association. MLA Style Manual and Guide to Scholarly Publishing. 3rd ed. New York: Modern Language Association, 2008. Print.

Stowe, Harriet Beecher. Uncle Tom’s Cabin: or, Life among the Lowly. 2 Vols. Boston: John P. Jewett, 1852. Internet Archive. Web.

Stowe, Harriet Beecher. Uncle Tom’s Cabin: or, Life among the Lowly. National Era. 5 June 1851 — 1 April 1852. Ed. Wesley Raabe. Institute for Advanced Technology in the Humanities. Web

Stowe, Harriet Beecher. Uncle Tom’s Cabin: or, Life among the Lowly. Illustrated. Boston: John P. Jewett, 1853. GoogleBooks. [published also by Sampson Low]. Web.

Stowe, Harriet Beecher. Uncle Tom’s Cabin: or, Life among the Lowly. 1 Vol. Pbk. Boston: John P. Jewett, 1852-53. Print.

Stowe, Harriet Beecher. Uncle Tom’s Cabin: or, Life among the Lowly. Boston: Houghton-Osgood, 1879. Web.

University of Chicago Press. The Chicago Manual of Style. 15th ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003. 87. Print.

Part I: In which a space is not a space

This is first in a series of six, and possibly seven, posts with the provisional title “Marking Uncle Tom’s Cabin: Typography, Race, and Textual Transmission.” This series includes much-revised versions of presentations at the Midwest MLA Conference (Minneapolis, 2008) and the Society for Textual Scholarship (New York, 2008).

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After some thinking, I’ve decided to remove this post from my blog. What was intended as a spur to re-thinking and revision has not functioned as I had hoped. The post feels “published.” And I’m not revisiting it with the necessary seriousness and attention that is necessary to submit a journal article. I may reconsider yet again. But I’m going to try revising with no series of posts online to distract me.

The Kisses of Tom and Eva: Not in Stowe’s text

In the text of Uncle Tom’s Cabin that can be attributed to Stowe, Eva does not kiss Tom, though literary critics seem to imagine that she does. Sarah Robbins refers to the “angelic mother-child Eva kissing Uncle Tom.” (539). Henry Louis Gates echoes this theme in his introduction to the Annotated Uncle Tom’s Cabin, where he says that Tom and Eva “touch, kiss, hold hands, hold each other closely” (xviii).

Below is a list of every instance of the word “kiss” in John P. Jewett’s 2-volume edition (according to text from Early American Fiction) during the portion of the work in which Eva and Tom are both present:

“O, there’s Mammy!” said Eva, as she flew across the room; and, throwing herself into her arms, she kissed her repeatedly. (1.238)

Eva flew from one to another, shaking hands and kissing, in a way that Miss Ophelia afterwards declared fairly turned her stomach. (1.238)

“Well, I want to be kind to everybody, and I wouldn’t have anything hurt; but as to kissing–” (1.238)

“Do hear the darlin talk!” said Mammy, as Eva thrust it into her bosom, and, kissing her, ran down stairs to her mother. (1.261)

“You sweet, little obliging soul!” said St. Clare, kissing her; “go along, that’s a good girl, and pray for me.” (1.262)

They fell on their knees; they sobbed, and prayed, and kissed the hem of her garment; and the elder ones poured forth words of endearment, mingled in prayers and blessings, after the manner of their susceptible race. (2.104)

Her father had been in, in the evening, and had said that Eva appeared more like her former self than ever she had done since her sickness; and when he kissed her for the night, he said to Miss Ophelia,—“Cousin, we may keep her with us, after all; she is certainly better;” and he had retired with a lighter heart in his bosom than he had had there for weeks. (2.111)

There are no kisses between Tom and Eva. Period. Eva kisses Mammy. Eva kisses the St. Clare servants generally. While one might suppose that she kisses both male and female, Stowe’s “shaking hands and kissing” could as easily suggest a gender divide to these gestures. In any case, Tom is not in the assembled group, as he remains associated with the arriving vehicle, not the household’s greeting party. St. Clare and Miss Ophelia’s discussion does not insist that gender matches the gesture–kiss for female servants, handshake for male–but all of Eva’s subsequent kisses are exchanged with Mammy or with St. Clare. The only other possible kiss is that Tom is among those who kiss the hem of Eva’s garment while she is on her deathbed.

Touch, hold hands, cradle, no doubt. But no kisses. Undoubtedly, however, the suggestion of sexual energy envelops the relationship between Eva and Tom in the Lake Pontchartrain Eden-like garden, given also, for example, Eva’s “I want him,” as Hortense J. Spillers points out (558, cf. UTC 1.218). But the eroticism is so coded as to dare the 19th-C. reader to infer a reading that the text resists. Hammat Billings’s illustration has been glossed as suggestive by James F. O’Gorman (84, ctd. in Morgan 27). But Jo-Ann Morgan (Uncle Tom’s Cabin as Visual Culture) responds that the “implication of physical intimacy between them would have been highly incendiary” (28).

And this fact is crucially important. Eva does not kiss Tom because the gesture would have elicited a firestorm of criticism. Billings’s illustration brings out the suggestive eroticism while the caption instructs readers not to allow the possibility that is being suggested (cf. Morgan 28). Eva’s youth, her Christian faith, Tom’s faith, and his status as a black slave close off any suggestion in the wreath of flowers or in her hand on his knee–present-day reader, keep your mind on high-minded topics.

Tom and Eva do exchange kisses, just not in Stowe’s text. For example, in on acting script for an early 20th-C. version by the Harmount company. See text at UTC & American Culture. Tom does kiss Eva. But this is not Stowe’s version: this is a modern remake. The literary criticism with which I began is also a remake: 20th and early 21st-century re-imaginings are applied to a text in a manner that I don’t think is conceivable for serious public fiction at the time Stowe wrote. By bringing a below-consciousness subtext to conscious attention with the text’s nonexistent kiss, we miss Stowe’s use of Christian morality to ward off any such suggestion.

Most present-day readers of a Jewett edition reprint would likely pass over mixed-race kissing without notice–though my student readers thought that Tom’s efforts to lure the child Eva a little creepy–but the kisses between Tom and Eva are not part of Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin. While the text is of our time, it is also of the mid-19th Century, and historically sensitive critical reading is better served if critics actually read the text with norms of 19th century conduct in mind, not create in the text imaginary episodes not supported by evidence.

Gates, Henry Louis, Jr. Introduction. Annotated Uncle Tom’s Cabin. New York: Norton, 2008, xi-xlvii.

Morgan, Jo-Ann. Uncle Tom’s Cabin as Visual Culture. Columbia: U of Missouri P, 2007.

O’Gorman, James F. Accomplished in All Departments of Art–Hammatt Billings of Boston, 1818-1874. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1998.

Robbins, Sarah. “Gendering the History of the Antislavery Narrative: Juxtaposing Uncle Tom’s Cabin and Benito Cereno, Beloved and Middle Passage.” American Quarterly 49 (1997): 539.

Stowe, Harriet Beecher. Uncle Tom’s Cabin; or, Life among the Lowly. Vol. 1 and Vol. 2. Electronic Resource. The Electronic Archive of American Fiction, 1850-1875. Charlottesville: Electronic Text Center, 2003. Online.

To do list

As my previous post makes clear, the danger to my career health is distractibility. I work all the time, but I know of only two ways to motivate myself to complete work that is in progress: shame and deadlines. I report to myself, so I shame myself here if the work is not done. I create a deadline of late August 2009. So it’s time to put these motivations to work (after I answer the phone, of course, and the email). Ah, that done–only 5 minutes later–it’s time for the list of tasks to complete:

• Course Planning: 15 to 20 hours over next two weeks, with attention to L. Dee Finks’s Creating Significant Learning Experiences, the syllabus, a schedule, and 4 or 5 planned activities as the goal.
• Revising and posting here (in parts, at least every other day) my conference presentation on race and typographical space in UTC, as preparation for revising it, probably for 12-15 pg essay in M/MLA
• Drafting on canon formation and UTC, for a planned October presentation to ADE
• Completing draft collation of four book versions of UTC that are part of my project (80 percent done).
• Transcribing chapter a day of UTC for two weeks so I have more representative sample, and then correcting
• Sight collating two copies of Jewett paperback, correcting paperback transcription, and completing survey of known copies according to WorldCat: to repeat survey of known copies for National Era newspaper (done, just need to post), Jewett 2-vol. edition (start with Kirkham and update), for illustrated edition, and for 1879 edition.
• Revising submission to American Periodicals.
• Preparing article for Notes and Queries on source for Senator Burr’s becoming Senator Bird.
• Drafting NEH Scholarly Editions Grant Proposal for November deadline
• Fixing up IBE site, personal web site, and doing twenty small tasks in preparation for teaching

Creeping distractibility, sounds nice…

Rather than reading beyond Laura Miller’s quote on “creeping distractibility” (where was that from?) in review of Winifred Gallagher’s Rapt: Attention and the Focused Life (thanks, Humanist) and then checking how much it costs on Amazon, remembering while there that I wanted to look up works by Christopher Lasch and Richard Rorty, suggested to me by George Scialabba’s Divided Mind, downloaded because my mother wrote a letter to me asking if I’d heard of George (Shalivo???) or something she heard on NPR, because he had written a book that sounds interesting–What are Intellectuals Good For?–I think I’d better get back to work.

While I would note that Scialabba’s Divided Mind is worth the download–I finished the little gem this afternoon–what I really need to do is grade two sets of papers and work on an essay. I have graded a little over a third of the essays. But I really need to get back to transcribing Uncle Tom’s Cabin, though I don’t know whether I should do that or collate the four versions that I now have, which should I discover that illustrated edition and the paperback version have even more variants than are presently known, I’ll really be doing what I want to do. And it should help the planned grant application.

Or maybe I should resume listening to the German tapes from Deutsche-Welle, so nice now that I’ve figured out how to use the MP3 player instead of the old CD route. Or maybe really work at Blackmon’s Slavery by Another Name, which I also started today. And then, as I mused on the essay, there are the two little volumes by Montaigne and Bacon, not to mention that I also picked up Fish’s Surpised by Sin and Greenblatt’s Renaissance Self-Fashioning. Department meeting prep? Grad faculty meeting prep? Dot Porter’s essay linked from SHARP?

Submit copyright requests for summer class? Submit ILL requests for Stowe essay I mean to get back to, repair the CD drive on the old laptop, uninstall xMetal from the Virtual PC on the laptop, re-install and update on the desktop PC, order the loupe for collating, finish up earlier post on paperback editions of UTC, visually collate two paperbacks on my desk, go back and revise essay on race and space from STS, begin work on the essay on the many current editions of UTC? Call the HelpDesk about my continuing troubles with email? Worry about whether the sense of unease among the student body will lead to more fires and clashes with police this weekend at Kent State?

Or maybe I should be hopeful about the grant application, and get started on that, plan for class tomorrow, set up a dentist appointment, an eye appointment, make kolaches to take to class, make the crust for the pie I’ve been promising to bake since I bought the frozen cherries on sale 3 weeks ago.

Mind unmanageable I bequeath thee to the ether, and send myself back to work. But before I go, L. Frank Baum wrote “Man does not live by bread alone but principally by catchwords,” at least according to Edward Wagenknecht in Utopia Americana (34). At least I know Wagenknecht said Baum did, but not that he did, because I just don’t know and have not the presence of mind to find out. My distractibility is not creeping, it’s at no petty pace, day to day. It’s a wildfire burning.