ROBERT HOUSUM'S HISTORY OF THE NOVEL CLUB
1896 - 1956
Cleveland on the evening of Tuesday, December 15, 1896, the weather was
"inclement". So much so, indeed, we are told, that only a
small number of the members of the Ladies' Bryan Association ventured
out to attend their regular meeting.
were others, however, who were made of sterner stuff. These
plodded through the snow to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Long
Cutter, 1174 East Madison Avenue, now East 79th Street; and, gathered
there to the number of eighteen, formed themselves into "The Classical
Novel Reading Union". It is the sixtieth anniversary of that
meeting that we are celebrating tonight, for this pretentious name was
soon replaced by the more modest one of "The Novel Club".
Peering through the mists of sixty years that
divide us from that evening, we can discern two figures chiefly responsible for
the formation of the Club: Miss
Elizabeth Reeve Cutter and Mr. William L. Torrance. Miss Cutter most of us can recall as the gracious Mrs. Dwight W.
Morrow, whose interest in her fledgling persisted throughout her lifetime, and
who occasionally, on her visits to Cleveland, enriched our meetings by her
Mr. Torrance is a more shadowy, a more
controversial figure. A young Englishman
whose business pursuits had brought him to Cleveland, he was shocked by what he
considered the crudity, the rampant materialism, and the lack of cultural
interests of his new home. And on this
subject he seems to have been extremely vocal.
Presumably Mr. Torrance lacked both tact and
a sense of humor; and his unfamiliarity with our manners and customs may have
tended to obscure for him signs of a real culture that lay, perhaps, a little
below the surface. After all, it was at
about this time that John Hay, certainly a cultivated man, used to refer to the
Union Club as “The Mermaid”, in allusion to the favorite tavern of Will
Shakespeare, Kit Marlow, and Ben Johnson, because of the good and stimulating
talk to be heard there.
But what were the interests of Clevelanders
when The Novel Club was founded, as reflected by the daily press? Well, Miss Lillian Russell was appearing at
the Opera House in “An American Beauty”, while the Star Theatre offered Joe
Weber and Lew Fields and their accomplished company of buffoons. The first cotillion of the season, led by
Mr. Addison Hough, had just taken place at The Croxden. The Charity Ball was but a few days off. The bicycle craze was at its height, and
there were innumerable clubs devoted to this sport. In fact, of clubs of all kinds there was more than an abundance,
among which the following names are characteristic: The Sweet Sixteen Club, The
Never-Too-Late Euchre Club, The Adroit Pedro Club, and The Merry Ha-Ha’s Social
Club. Perhaps Mr. Torrance had
something after all.
The newspapers solemnly chronicled the
meetings of literally hundreds of these ephemerids, though they ignored the
foundation of The Novel Club. Yet today
this organization is approaching a robust middle age with no signs of infirmity. As for the others, like Villon’s old-time
lords, “the wind has blown them all away”.
Mr. Torrance sought Miss Cutter’s aid in
“saving Cleveland from the commercialism in which it was sunk”, and she
responded gallantly. These two had been
reading a pamphlet entitled “The Classical Novel Reading Union” and Professor
Moulton’s “Five Years of Novel Reading”, and they decided that a club, formed
to read and discuss the best fiction, should be the intellectual weapon with
which they should challenge the mediocrity around them.
Miss Cutter, daughter of an old Cleveland
family. With a wide and influential circle of friends, immediately set to work,
displaying an organizing ability that was later to find much wider scope, and a
literary appreciation and skill which she was to transmit to her daughter, Anne
Morrow Lindbergh. Invitations to join
the new project were extended to a considerable number of friends and
acquaintances, some of whom were invited personally, others by a letter of
which, unfortunately, no copy has survived.
Mr. Torrance had been indiscrete enough to observe
that he had asked some people to join because they were “interesting
personalities”, and others in the hope of doing a little intellectual
missionary work. Naturally the remark
was repeated, and since no one of the prospective members was quite sure to
which of these two groups he or she was supposed to belong, some of them
arrived at the first meeting in a somewhat belligerent frame of mind.
Thus an opposition party appeared in the Club
from the very first, with the non-classicists making early headway against the
classicists. A signal victory was won
the very first year, when it was decided to read Wilkie Collins’ The Woman
in White. This may be considered
the Club’s Declaration of Independence: it had firmly refused to become too
high-brow. Immediately after this
decision, Mr. Torrance resigned. But as
he returned to membership some years later, it would be hardly fair to look
upon his resignation as a protest.
In the Nineties, Cleveland was a
comparatively small city that had not yet caught up with Cincinnati. When the Club was founded, the population
was about three hundred and fifty thousand.
I think perhaps “cozy” is the word that best describes its social
atmosphere at that time. People used to
say that they knew everyone in town, or if they didn’t, they knew who they
were; and this overstatement, blatant though it was, yet contained a germ of
truth. The Club was first made up of
groups of intimate friends – even relatives.
Thus, there were the three Sherwin sisters, the four Misses Nash, and
various members of the Cobb, Coit, Cleveland and Cutter families. The turnover of members was very rapid at
first, until those who were not deeply interested were winnowed out, and after
three years less than a quarter of the original founders were still
active. Thereafter the membership
acquired a certain stability.
Not that the Club did not occasionally
experience stormy days. A crisis of
some sort occurred in 1910-1911, the details of which have now faded from the
surviving memories and about which the minutes are superbly discreet and
uninformative. But at any rate, more
than a third of the members resigned, among them some of the most loyal and
That the Club rallied from this shock so
swiftly and with such success appears to have been due largely to the efforts
of three young people, all connected with Western Reserve University, who
became members at about this time:
Jared S. Moore, George F. Strong and Bernadette E. Schmitt, whose fresh
enthusiasm revived the flagging spirits of the Club, so that it was soon itself
It will not be out of place to mention a few
early members who contributed a great deal to the Club. Foremost on this list must unquestionably
come Miss Jessie Jones, a Founder, a member until her death, and in her later
years, the acknowledged mentor of the Club.
She was a woman of sound sense, brilliant intellect and warm heart,
whose fantastic eccentricities served only to endear her the more to those who
Well remembered too is Charles A. Post, whose
later years were devoted to embodying his exact and extensive knowledge of old
Cleveland in a series of local histories.
An active participant in all the Club’s activities, it was he who
proposed and made possible the publication in 1899 of “Papers read Before the
Novel Club of Cleveland”.
Another useful early member was R. M. Murray,
whose literary knowledge was apparently encyclopedic. If a member forgot or neglected to appear with his critical paper
– and this occasionally happened even in the Club’s Golden Age –
Mr. Murray would leap to his feet and, without the slightest
preparation, launch into a polished and lengthy disquisition on the subject, no
matter what it might chance to be.
There are references from his friends to a quaint personality, deep
sentiment and quiet humor, which made themselves felt at the meetings from
which he was rarely absent.
Then there was Ora Coltman, not only a
sensitive artist but a man of an original turn of mind, who for years
constituted himself a sort of Loyal Opposition, almost always taking the
minority side in the discussions and challenging the accepted opinion.
No one who ever met him is likely to forget
Benjamin P. Bourland, that stimulating teacher, jovial companion,
discriminating gourmet and charming conversationalist. A man of strong enthusiasms and equally
strong dislikes, and often violent in his expression of them, he would lay down
the law with all the assurance and arrogance of a Dr. Johnson.
As the years have passed, there have been few
important changes in the Novel Club.
The annual picnic, the arrangements for which were always confided to
the capable and ingenious hands of Mrs. Jared S. Moore, and which usually reached
its climax in an anagram tournament, has passed, with the more Arcadian age
that fostered it. It is true that the
Constitution, which might have been expected to be a steadying influence,
became only a legend and for years was supposed to have vanished from the earth. It is probable that the wish was father to
this thought, for as a matter of fact the Constitution is still extant. But from the very first its provisions seem
to have been disregarded with pleasing consistency. However, while the letter of the law may frequently have been
transgressed, the spirit has remained untarnished.
The tastes of the Novel Club throughout its
long history may be called conservative.
Henry James has been its favorite novelist. It has remained faithful to him during the days of his neglect as
well as those of his popularity; and it is gratifying that our steadfast
appreciation of him has now the approval of the most discerning critics. Trollope has been a close second, with
Dickens and Thackeray, Hardy and Meredith not far behind – surely a most
Balzac quite understandably leads the list of
French novelists; among the Russians, Tourgenieff (Turgenev) has been the
favorite; among the Germans, Thomas Mann.
And we have dealt generously with Joseph Conrad, H. G. Wells, Arnold
Bennett and John Galsworthy. There is
perhaps less cause for satisfaction in the frequency with which we encounter
the names of ... but, no, to single them out would be invidious. We all have our lapses.
I have been able to find only four novels by
Cleveland authors among those that we have read: The Breadwinners by
John Hay, By Nature Free by Hiram Haydn, Wasteland by Jo Sinclair, and The Bounty Lands
by William Ellis. But there have not
been a great many to choose from.
We have confined our reading almost
exclusively to novels, although it is not to be denied that we have
occasionally allowed ourselves to fall into that most fruitless of all
discussions: What is a novel?
There was a brief excursion into drama in
1910, but it was not repeated and was notable only for the fact that, after a
reading and discussion of You Never Can Tell, it was unanimously voted
that Shaw’s sanity was open to doubt.
And indeed the Club has not been notable for literary pioneering,
preferring with few exceptions to confine itself to sound, accepted literary
fare, and not to taste of the more exotic dishes until they have been certified
as wholesome by common consent, and, after a period of years, admitted to the
T. S. Eliot tells
us that “old men ought to be explorers”; and perhaps, now that the club has
reached its sixtieth year, it will be more adventurous in its choice of reading
Its past record
has been notable. There is every
promise that its future will be even more so.