Tag Archives: women and war

Dispatches from the Writing Life #15: Of Primary and Secondary Sources

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This book I’m writing about Jane Grant will be the first full-length one focusing on her. She has turned up in a few other books published by both trade and academic presses, so I was able to consult some secondary sources for part of my research.

The information they contain needs to be verified, and occasionally that process sends me down research rabbit holes. This is what happened with one piece of chronology in my fourth chapter, in which Jane travels overseas with the YMCA in World War I.

The most valuable secondary source has been Susan Henry’s 2012 book, Anonymous in Their Own Names, a scholarly look at three women, including Jane, who pushed for legal changes to ensure that married women, if they chose, could keep their birth names. I always start my secondary source research with academic works.

Henry wrote about Jane’s trip: “In September 1918 she sailed for France. Her first stop was the Stars and Stripes office in Paris where she hoped to visit her friend Woollcott, who had been working there since February and with whom she had been corresponding. But he had left for the front, so she continued on to her duties in Tours.”

Henry took that information from a 1943 letter that Jane wrote to Woollcott’s biographer, Samuel Hopkins Adams. The letter is part of the Jane Grant papers at the University of Oregon and is one of the many documents I read and scanned on my research trip there a few years ago.

So I pulled up the letter and read what Jane wrote:

“In September, 1918, I went to France with the Motion Picture Bureau of the Y.M.C.A. When I arrived in Paris I went at once to the office of the Stars and Stripes in search of Aleck…and learned that I could not see Aleck, although he [a commanding officer she spoke to] would not tell me if Aleck was out of Paris or when he would return. I was mighty young then and mighty lonely and as Aleck was the only person I knew in Paris I made going to the office of the paper a regular stint until I was detailed to Tours.”

Jane’s 1968 memoir, Ross, The New Yorker and Me, contains this recollection: “Once I had hurdled the obstacles of getting to war Aleck resolved to have me detailed to the Entertainment Bureau of the Y. ‘They need singers badly and your dancing will be no hindrance,’ he wrote me at Tours. I was delighted with the prospect and elated when I was summoned to Paris to arrange for transfer to my new duties with the entertainment unit Aleck had assembled. He had met me at the station the evening before.”

I need to fashion a chronology that makes sense. I have to consider that Jane’s letter to Adams was written twenty-five years after her trip to France, which brings the issue of memory into play. Also, in 1943, in the middle of U.S. involvement in World War II, Jane had a lot going on. She was busy with a project for The New Yorker and with duties on the Writers’ War Board. She may have still been processing her feelings over Woollcott’s unexpected death early in the year.

Her memoir came even later. Jane spent over a decade researching, writing, and rewriting that book. But as much as she drew on her journalism training, the memoir wasn’t meant to be objective. She had a specific purpose for writing it. As with her letter to Adams and with Henry’s account of these events, the information in Jane’s memoir must be verified by other sources.

That’s what takes a lot of my time. I usually find some interesting things along the way, and in this case, I have. My goal is to get the information as correct as possible.

I thought once again of historian Jill Lepore’s “Plymouth Rocked: Of Pilgrims, Puritans, and Professors,” which I mentioned last week. (Here again is The New Yorker article, though it may be paywalled.) “History isn’t brain surgery,” she wrote. “Even when it’s done poorly, it’s not fatal. Still, it can knock you down.” I don’t want to do it poorly.

What I’m Reading

I started another big biography of another important man in the book world: True Nature: The Pilgrimage of Peter Matthiessen by Lance Richardson. It’s good but very stuffed with details. It reminds me of how hard it is as a biographer to figure out what to put in and what to leave out.

What I’m Watching

The second weekly episode of After the Flood (BritBox) and over on Netflix, Unfamiliar, a German spy thriller.

Still enjoying the amusing British version of Ghosts (Paramount+).

What Else Is Happening

Another very acceptable bowling this week.

It was a real bird week here at Southfork. Woodpeckers, orioles, and grosbeaks have been spotted at the front feeder. And in the neighborhood, a hawk (probably a Cooper’s hawk) and a few backyard chickens. Lucky chickens—the hawk wasn’t in the same part of the neighborhood.

(an orchard oriole)

Have a good week. Hope you stop by for the next installment.

Dispatches from the Writing Life #14: Calling it Done

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The chapter that covers Jane Grant’s efforts to get overseas during World War I, that is. I think this version finally works, so I’m calling it done. This version. There will assuredly be another.

For this one, I really had to focus on finding what I think of as the feeling or texture, a kind of “you-are-there” sense of the narrative. I’m an academic writer and these more creative “writerly” aspects are difficult for me to get right when I’m trying to tell a story. I could better utilize the tools of creative writers and journalists. Finding the right balance or blend is key. This week I was reminded how much writers of all kinds have to learn from each other.

Historian and Pulitzer Prize finalist author Megan Kate Nelson posted on BlueSky a few days ago: “Watching and waiting for more historians to write short sentences, short paragraphs, and short chapters.” She’s a very good writer and a very good historian, so her advice is worth considering. Once I’m satisfied with content, I’m going to go after style.

One of Jessica Meyer’s recent posts on her blog, Arms and the Medical Man, reminded me of the tensions that sometimes surface between different types of writers. Meyer is Professor of Social and Cultural History at the University of Leeds, and she researches the intersections of the histories of gender, disability and warfare.

Meyer’s piece, “Picking Up the Threads,” in part considers the differences between academic historians and what she calls “professional historians (that is, those who communicate historical research in order to earn a living).” I’m not crazy about the term “professional historians” to describe nonfiction writers who focus on historical topics, but I get her larger point. Meyer finds it “always slightly disconcerting” to read one of those works “that identifies a methodological approach or source base that I have long been familiar with as a new discovery.”

Academics and nonfiction writers generally have different reading audiences to address, but both could learn valuable skills from each other. Some academics have become very interested in writing for the non-academic reader, and sometimes they are referred to as public scholars. (Historian David M. Perry has just published a book on the topic.)

Meyer’s blog post in turn brought to mind one of my all-time favorite book reviews, “Plymouth Rocked: Of Pilgrims, Puritans, and Professors,” in which Harvard historian Jill Lepore cast a critical eye on Nathaniel Philbrick’s Mayflower: A Story of Courage, Community, and War. (Here is The New Yorker article, though it may be paywalled.) Along the way, she considers who writes history, how and why. Lepore takes Philbrick, who trained as a journalist, to task for his uncritical reading of sources, which to her, resulted in a misleading, distorted history.

She acknowledged, though, that “History isn’t brain surgery. Even when it’s done poorly, it’s not fatal. Still, it can knock you down.” I think about this a lot when I’m working on a book.

And, relatedly, worth a weekly read is Black and White and Read All Over, which carries the marvelous subtitle “Where Scholarship Meets the Public.” The website is hosted by scholars Vaughn Joy and Ben Railton.

What I’m Reading

I didn’t quite finish Gayle Feldman’s Nothing Random: Bennett Cerf and the Publishing House He Built before it was due back at the library. I really enjoyed what I read, though, and the way she presented Cerf as a multi-faceted person.

Not the kind of novel I normally read, but Heartwood by Amity Gaige kept my interest all the way through.

What I’m Watching

Got through all six episodes of Fallen, a Swedish police procedural set in a cold case unit. The first season is on Prime via MHz for a limited time. MHz is also home to the excellent World War II series A French Village, a wrenching examination of occupation and collaboration.

On BritBox there’s been Dark Heart, interesting if disjointed, and the second season of After the Flood, which seems so long after the flood that I can’t really remember much from the first season.

Started the British version of Ghosts (Paramount+), and it’s amusing.

Finished this season of The Forsytes (PBS) and all the available episodes of Animal Control on Netflix.

What Else Is Happening

Very acceptable bowling this week.

(Bowling scene from The Big Lebowski)

Flowers continue to bloom in the gardens here at Southfork, the pear trees are budding, and even the smallest peony bush has shot up. The birds are very active and vocal, and chipmunks and rabbits keep racing through the back forty.

Have a good week. Hope you stop by for the next installment.

Dispatches from the Writing Life #13: More Life Than Writing

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I made a bit of progress on revisions, still working through some history of World War I as it pertains to Jane Grant’s experiences. I read up on the 1916 Council of National Defense and the Woman’s Committee it created in April 1917. Once the United States entered the war, the government decided it needed the support of women and tapped into the well-established network of female organizations that had been around for decades.

Then I looked to see what kinds of articles the New York Times published about these developments to better understand the atmosphere at the newspaper where Jane worked. And I started considering how press coverage of the conflict and the existence of the Woman’s Committee (run locally by the upper-class women she covered for the Society Department) influenced the choices she made about what to do during the war.

Writing occupies a significant chunk of time almost every day, yet there are always other things going on, too. I used to think that I would have more time for writing in retirement, but I’ve found more flexibility in my schedule rather than more time. And that’s okay. This past week I met a friend for a leisurely lunch, wrote an endorsement (blurb) for a forthcoming book about the Philippines during World War II, and spent a lot of time getting ready for a weekend with family centering on a baby shower.

What I’m Reading

Gayle Feldman’s Nothing Random: Bennett Cerf and the Publishing House He Built remains absorbing. It’s due back at the library in five days and can’t be renewed, so I’ll have to finish it some other time. It’s a remarkable achievement.

What I’m Watching

Only one episode left to finish this season of The Forsytes (PBS).

Watched the first episode of the new Dan Levy comedy, Big Mistakes, on Netflix. Very unsure about it. The cast is great and I get the premise, but the execution didn’t quite land during that first episode. Still, with Levy, it’s probably worth watching at least one more episode. (I had to try Schitt’s Creek twice before I stuck with it, but that was mostly because of the presence of Chris Elliott.)

Nearing the end of all the available episodes of Animal Control on Netflix.

Finished the Netflix series, Detective Hole and the first season of Helsinki Crimes (PBS). I think we started Helsinki Crimes last week, but I forgot about it. Not that it’s bad, but it’s a pretty routine police procedural. It’s set in Helsinki, though, which gives it a little something special.

During one of the several family gatherings over the weekend, conversation turned to one of our favorite good bad movies: VelociPastor. I don’t know if any synopsis can do it justice.

What Else Is Happening

Slightly better bowling this week. There were gutter balls again during the first game, but the second game had a strike and a few spares. And afterward—ice cream!

The two pear trees and the mulberry tree survived a week of rain and winds, so that bodes well. There are more buds on all. A most welcome sight is the rapid growth of the peony bushes. Peonies are my favorite spring flower, and every year I closely watch their progress.

(not our peony bushes)

Have a good week. Hope you stop by for the next installment.

Dispatches from the Writing Life #12: Jane Grant and Elisabeth Marbury

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Lots of things happen during revisions, including moments when you feel like doing a gentle head-bang on the desk because you can’t believe you almost overlooked something. That’s also when you realize this is exactly why revisions are essential.

They were right there in the scans from the archives. Two brief letters from Elisabeth Marbury, one to Jane Grant, one To Whom It May Concern, both from the summer of 1918, both a part of Jane’s quest to get an overseas posting.

Jane volunteered for the Publicity Bureau of the Mayor’s Committee of Women on National Defense (MCWND) sometime in 1918. Marbury, who officially headed the bureau, was a powerhouse in New York City theater circles, so it’s also possible that Jane already knew her or at least had known of her through her job at the New York Times.

Elisabeth “Bessy” Marbury was born in 1856, the daughter of a prominent New York City lawyer. A former debutante, she drew from her family’s wealth and connections to set herself up in business to promote and manage actors and playwrights. Marbury met Elsie de Wolfe, an aspiring actor about ten years her junior, in the 1880s. The couple lived together for forty years while Marbury grew her company, opening offices in Paris, London, Berlin, and Madrid, and de Wolfe launched herself as an interior decorator.

Together they bought a home in Versailles, France, where they spent part of every year until World War I made that impossible. But between 1914 and 1916, Marbury coordinated relief efforts for wounded French soldiers while she was still in the country. Queen Elizabeth of Belgium presented Marbury with a medal in honor of her war service in 1919.

(garden at Villa Trianon, Versailles, France)

Once back in the United States, Marbury worked with at least one other wartime organization in addition to the MCWND. Her business also remained open and thriving. Marbury utilized her theater contacts to put on programs to help fund the war effort. In the summer of 1918, Jane was “conducting the Publicity Bureau” for her on the MCWND and doing such a good job that Marbury both hated to lose her and willingly wrote a letter of recommendation to help her get overseas.

Jane didn’t forget Marbury. During the 1920s, when Jane was involved in two other quite different endeavors, she looped Marbury into those as well, one successfully, the other not. But by then, Jane was practiced in establishing connections with influential people and making good use of them.

What I’m Reading

Gayle Feldman’s Nothing Random: Bennett Cerf and the Publishing House He Built is very absorbing. It’s a huge book, and I admire all the careful research Feldman conducted and her skillful crafting of the narrative.

What I’m Watching

Two very quiet, excellent movies on Prime: Sam and Kate, starring Sissy Spacek and Dustin Hoffman, and The Summer Book, set on a small Finnish island, starring Glenn Close as the grandmother. No murders, nothing blows up. Just relationships.

More episodes of The Forsytes (PBS). Still very unlike the last series and clearly setting up a second season.

Only two episodes left of the Netflix series, Detective Hole.

Finished Mudtown (BritBox). The ending was a bit unexpected, and I still have some questions.

Animal Control (Netflix), an amusing workplace comedy, continues as filler watching.

What Else Is Happening

Voting happened on Tuesday. There were some local races plus the big statewide Supreme Court one that was a decisive liberal victory.

I listened to Megan Kate Nelson’s second appearance on the excellent Drafting the Past podcast, created and hosted by Kate Carpenter. If you like to read good history books, this is the place to hear authors talk about how they research and write them.

I also watched historian Pamel Toler on WW2TV on YouTube. Host Paul Woodadge designs great programs covering so many aspects of the war in addition to military history. It’s really worth a watch.

The usual two games of bowling served as a sharp reminder of the consequences of missing last week. A two-word summation of my experience this week: gutter balls.

More exciting was our first visit of the spring season to the garden center. We returned to Southfork with two pear trees and a mulberry tree, all of which the foreman planted in the front acreage. So far, the deer haven’t eaten them. They’ve also left alone the other tender green shoots that have been popping up in the garden beds. So far.

Have a good week. Hope you stop by for the next installment.

Dispatches from the Writing Life #11: Things, Big and Small

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Another new month of revisions, and Jane Grant is still trying to get off to war. It was a big one, first called the Great War or the European War, later to be eclipsed by an even more cataclysmic one that necessitated the numbering of them: World War I and World War II.

Jane played a small part in that first war, but it took a lot of dogged determination before she found a way to get over to France. Her time there is pretty well documented, mostly because it was where she met Harold Ross, which is considered a big, important event in her life because of what their meeting led to.

Yet Jane never explained that was behind her drive to go overseas. Maybe she thought that should be evident. Her country was at war in 1917 and as a citizen of that country, she should support the war. But Americans had been deeply divided over the war since it had broken out in 1914. It was not a foregone conclusion that a citizen would be in favor of U.S. participation.

During this round of revisions, I’ve been bringing into sharper focus the ideas and events that may have influenced Jane. And I think a lot of it comes down to location: living in New York City (and forming romantic attachments to men who lived there, too) and working at the New York Times.

John Purroy Mitchel, the city’s mayor, initially embraced the neutrality that President Woodrow Wilson promoted in 1914, well before the United States joined the European conflict. A year later, Mitchel advocated preparedness and created the Mayor’s Committee on National Defense. (Jane met the mayor at least once, at a social occasion, and the only question she had the opportunity to ask him was the kind that reflected how she received her workplace nickname, Fluff.)

(Illustration by James Montgomery Flagg, 1917)

The Times backed Mitchel’s efforts, as did many of the upper-class people Jane covered for the Society Department. She was not an overtly political person, but she was aware, attentive, and thoughtful. She worked at the Times and she socialized with her colleagues. She could not avoid conversations about the war. But the only thing Jane gave voice to, backed by action, was her desire to go overseas when the United States entered the war in 1917. More than a year passed before she could make it happen.

It’s been hard to move on from this section before I’m satisfied with my understanding of what was happening with Jane during these war years. It may also have something to do with a failed book proposal of mine from several years ago about various America women like Jane who went overseas to play a role in the war. I found the subject fascinating and there was no other book quite like it, so I wanted to write it. Despite a proposal that both me and my then-agent were excited about, no editor shared that excitement. I abandoned the project and moved on to another. It’s just something that sometimes happens in the writing life.

What I’m Reading

I’ve been catching up on recent issues of The New Yorker. I usually don’t let them pile up, but when I’m reading library books with due dates, something has to give.

I finished Ocean Vuong’s novel The Emperor of Gladness. Beautiful and sad.

I finished The Typewriter and the Guillotine: An American Journalist, a German Serial Killer, and Paris on the Eve of WWII by Mark Braude. The journalist is Janet Flanner, who Jane Grant recruited in 1925 as the Paris correspondent for The New Yorker. The book, unfortunately, didn’t work for me. I didn’t find the connection between Flanner and the serial killer to be important or even interesting enough to support a book-length narrative.

I still have Gayle Feldman’s Nothing Random: Bennett Cerf and the Publishing House He Built waiting for me to do more than skim. But I get kind of overwhelmed just looking at it.

What I’m Watching

Another couple of episodes of The Forsytes (PBS). This new version has altered some of the characters and the circumstances, and it’s too early in the series to see the point.

More of the Netflix series, Detective Hole, set in contemporary Oslo, Norway, and it’s rather bleak.

Another weekly episode of Mudtown (BritBox), a crime series set in Wales, featuring a female magistrate. Lots of people in lots of trouble.

Finished Young Sherlock (Prime) and it was enjoyable enough, though I think the plot was over-stuffed.

Animal Control (Netflix), an amusing workplace comedy, continues as filler watching.

What Else Is Happening

No bowling! There was a big ice storm, and just when I thought we would get through it relatively unscathed (the shotgun-like popping sounds of tree branches snapping was heartbreaking), the power went out. We were lucky overall. Our inconvenience was small: no electricity or internet for a few hours. Our flora damage was small, too, with all of Southfork’s big trees keeping their branches. We will find out soon enough if our apples trees got too frozen. Other houses in the neighborhood had bigger problems with lots of branches down and longer stretches without power.

Yet new, small greenery has popped up. I think we have tulips and daffodils arriving. Unless the deer get overly interested.

Thanks for reading!