In this introduction, Gribben reminds the reader of the many delights of “Tom Sawyer,” a book most remembered for its depiction of childhood pranks and adventures in a small Missouri town, especially when Tom gets his buddies to whitewash the fence, and the innocent romance of Tom himself and Becky Thatcher, who get lost in the cave, and to the reader’s great relief, find their way out. Gribben also reminds the reader that “Tom Sawyer” has its dark moments — grave robbing, murder in the cemetery, the gruesome death of Injun Joe — to name a few.
Gribben also places “Tom Sawyer” in the development of Twain’s career. except for the collaboration with Charles Dudley Warner in producing the satire “The Gilded Age” — a book pretty well forgotten — “Tom Sawyer” was Twain’s first novel. Ernest Hemingway famously wrote in “Green Hills of Africa,” “All modern American literature comes from one book by mark Twain, called ‘Huckleberry Finn,’ … all American writing comes from that. There was nothing before. There has been nothing since.”
Hemingway is in many respects correct, but there was something before; without “Tom Sawyer,” there would have been no “Huckleberry Finn.” the first sentence uttered by Huck is “You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of ‘The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.’ ” It was the writing of “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” that put Twain back in touch with what would be his best fictional material.
Readers at the time would have been surprised by a discussion of Twain as novelist, because they knew him as a literary humorist, a stand-up entertainer and a travel writer.
In “Mark Twain on the Move,” Gribben and his co-editor, Jeffrey Alan Melton, have chosen a goodly selection of the travel writing that made Twain rich and famous. the best pieces, I think, come from the early book, “Innocents abroad,” (1869) where Twain travels around the Mediterranean on the ship “Quaker City” with a group of prosperous and pious pilgrims.
In those 19th-century days, when only the truly affluent and bold traveled, and the rest sat home and read, most travel books did well. Usually, though, they took a position of awe in the face of greatness, beauty and antiquity. Twain, on the other hand, became notorious for debunking. the editors call Twain’s stance “astonished disappointment.” Shown in Genoa a letter written by Christopher Columbus, Twain’s co-
conspirator says to the pompous, self-satisfied guide, “It’s the worst writing I ever saw” and “Why, I have seen boys in America only fourteen years old that could write better than that” and “Christopher Columbo. well, what did he do?”
Twain would habitually wait until a guide had finished his spiel about Columbus or Julius Caesar or even an Egyptian mummy and then innocently ask “and is he dead?”
Faced even with da Vinci’s “The Last Supper,” which put most viewers into rapture, Twain is harsh. “The countenances are scaled and marred, and nearly all expression gone from them; the hair is a dead blur upon the wall, and there is no life in the eyes.”
Twain had read about and been looking forward to a Turkish bath in Constantinople—but he hated every bit of it. the place smelled bad, the tobacco in the hookah had a “vile taste” and the Turkish coffee was the “worst” drink that ever passed his lips.
Twain’s “Roughing It” (1872) is domestic, not international, and features his account of a stagecoach ride in 1861 from St. Joseph, Mo., to Carson City, Nevada, across prairie, mountains and desert. This volume celebrates the stagecoach and its colorful driver, as colorful as a steamship captain, but the transcontinental railroads had put paid to the stagecoach in 1869, so there is a sense of nostalgia.
Not as great a sense as in “Life on the Mississippi” (1883), however. Here Twain is traveling on the great river, remembering his days as a young pilot and sadly noting that the riverboat industry is as dead as the stagecoach business and for the same reason: the railroad. where once steamboats were moored alongshore city wharves for miles, two and three deep, now there were nearly none at all.
If “Life on the Mississippi” and “Roughing It” were looks back, “A Tramp Abroad” (1880) and “Following the Equator” are again books of new experiences purposely undertaken and reported on.
“Tramp” is mainly set in Germany and Switzerland and contains some hilarious, facetious accounts of mountain climbing, Twain style. Gentler, but still sardonic, he describes Rhine wines thusly: “They are put up in tall, slender bottles, and are considered a pleasant beverage. one tells them from vinegar by the label.”
Twain’s last travel volume, “Following the Equator” (1897), is his account of an around-the-world journey, undertaken mainly to raise money and get out of bankruptcy. his descriptions of India, especially Bombay, are gorgeous, and he really enjoyed riding on elephants, but the older, wiser, sadder Twain is also more aware of the effects of imperialism and colonialism in Asia and Africa, and these selections have less hilarity.
Taken all together though, the effect of reading this volume of excerpts was to remind me that Twain was much more than a fiction writer. It made me want to read the complete Twain travel volumes and made me envy Gribben and Melton the fun they must have had in their perusing and selecting.
This review was originally broadcast on Alabama Public Radio. Don Noble is host of the Alabama Public Television literary interview show “Bookmark.” his latest book is “A State of Laughter: Comic Fiction from Alabama.”
DON NOBLE: Twain wrote more than fiction