I’ve noticed that Millhauser writes a lot of stories about artists fighting to be understood by the world at large. Is he okay? Has anyone checked on him?
Harlan Crane’s story in “A Precursor to Cinema” runs in the same cycles: Harlan does something fantastic. Newspapers criticize or ignore him. He has to find a new group of artists. Curtis writes about how he doesn’t really know Crane. Repeat.
While not necessarily in this order, you’ll find these same elements repeat themselves in the story at least three times (as in the case of the Verisimilists and the Transgressives), and sometimes as many as six (Harlan’s many painted miracles.) With every failure, Curtis makes reference to Harlan’s vague “struggles,” which if you know any artist intimately you know almost certainly refers to some kind of mental health trouble. It was interesting to me how, despite the formal, passive narration reminiscent of that of a lecture, it seemed the narrator really cared about Harlan Crane as a fellow human being, in a way I often find I also do while writing about historical figure.
Throughout my reading, I had the foreboding sense that “A Precursor to Cinema” would be another story leading to the main character’s suicide, which I felt was evidenced by his short lifespan (1844-1888) and again his “struggles.” At the end, I found myself questioning whether or not this had been the case. Though implied he had reappeared elsewhere under a new name, Harlan Crane died, very intentionally, by his own choice. I’m reminded of a quote from Little Women, said by Amy, paraphrased by me: “If I can’t be great, I want to be nothing.” Harlan was great, a fact he demonstrated over and over again, to the recognition of no one. Rather than go on without his work getting the appreciation he deserved, he simply faded away, taking his art with him.
I also noticed that the narrator seemed to care for Crane. I talked about point-of-view in my post about this story, and though the relationship wasn’t my focus in the post, it was something that stood out to me. I think the narrator only used the words “I” and “we” once each, so they were fairly removed from the story, but even without their direct interaction, I felt like they definitely cared about the subject of their story.
Rachel: Wonderful post. In regard to your opening statement — “I’ve noticed that Millhauser writes a lot of stories about artists fighting to be understood by the world at large” — wait until you read Eisenheim the Illusionist.” It’s one of Millhauser’s most intense and fascinating examinations of the artist (in the form of a magician). The degree to which artists want to be “understood” rather than simply admired is one of the components of the story, though there are many others.
One part about your posts that I enjoy so much is that there is so much of your personality within each post. After reading Millhauser’s “Dangerous Laughter” book I also think that anyone with thoughts like these should be seeing someone. Perhaps writing in the Fantastic is his way of expressing his inner wonders about the world. A lot of creative people will find themselves in a loop or a rhythm and sometimes it just works well that way.