"You have rescued me from academicism": selections from the correspondence of Henry Nash Smith and Mary Hunter Austin.
Given the Book Club's exclusivity (membership was limited to three hundred) and usual emphasis on typography rather than new literature, the publication might have received little attention had it not been for John O. Beaty, the chairman of SMU's English Department. Shocked by the involvement of a faculty member in the publication of the story, Beaty urged the president of the university, Charles Selecman, to fire Smith immediately. Beaty sought support for his position in a letter to dozens of pastors around Dallas. "A situation has arisen," he wrote, "which threatens to destroy all the Christian usefulness of Southern Methodist University" and "make it a center for the propaganda of obscenity and degeneracy." In private explanations of his vendetta, Beaty condemned the book's "homosexual implications" and was particularly disturbed by Faulkner's use of the word "philoprogenitive," an archaic term from the literature of phrenology, meaning "love of offspring" or "prolific."
Persuaded by Beaty's charges, Selecman wrote to Smith in Europe requesting his resignation. Smith refused. The standoff led to an unexpected outpouring of support for Smith, particularly from members of the Book Club of Texas who perceived the episode as an attack on their own reputations. As one man explained to Smith's colleague, John McGinnis: "It looks to me that the charge against Henry Smith is silly, but when the President of the University is after him it makes it serious even if there is no sense in it." To quell the outrage, Selecman backed off his request, but the damage had been done. Alter nearly six more acrimonious years in Dallas, Smith left the University to begin his doctoral work in Harvard's newly created Program in American Civilization. He went on to become a pioneer in the field of American Studies, an interdisciplinary movement that sought to bridge history and literature and make academic work more accessible to the general public.
Although the story of Henry Smith's departure from SMU has become the stuff of campus legend, nowhere did he describe the episode in such detail as in his correspondence with Mary Hunter Austin, the California intellectual who spent the later years of her career in New Mexico. Austin is perhaps best known for The Land of Little Rain (1903), a meditation on the rhythms of life and land in Owens Valley, California. Over the ensuing decades, her path-breaking work on the study of culture and environment made the case that literature cannot be understood apart from the places in which it is created. Although she held appointments at several universities over the course of her career, Austin never embraced the academic world and instead gravitated toward publishing, lecturing, and other forms of public scholarship. It was through her role as a contributing editor for Southwest Review that Austin met Smith. Their correspondence reached far beyond the Faulkner controversy to discuss everything from the mysteries of religious experience to the nuts-and-bolts of the publishing industry.
Over six years (1928-1934) and dozens of letters, Austin served as an intellectual mentor for Smith--debating ideas, providing references, and encouraging him to think outside the boundaries of the modern academic disciplines. As early at 1928, in a manifesto on "Culture" published in Southwest Review, Smith had grown skeptical of the Arnoldian impulses behind the burgeoning cultural institutions of Dallas. In his view, these "citadels of sweetness and light" represented a "superficial striving" for European culture. From the posturing of campus bohemians to earnest public lectures on Beowulf, Smith believed the social life of Dallas was failing to recognize the region for what it was:
a queer milieu patched together from the shreds of the musical ideas of New York song-writers, the artistic and ethical conceptions of California moving-picture producers, the mechanical triumphs of Detroit automotive engineers, the journalism of national syndicatewriters, and the skill of professional athletes.
Smith went on to make the case for a more holistic, clear-eyed approach to the study of regional culture, an approach that he discussed extensively over the course of his friendship with Austin. In 1931, Smith published an essay on Austin in New Mexico Quarterly, where he argued: "She dwells in no ivory tower, but at the meeting of all the highways of modern life."
Where others pushed Smith in a more traditional direction, Austin served as a powerful example of freedom from the disciplinary and institutional constraints of the academic world. In a 1931 letter to the Amerika-Institut in Berlin, well before the Faulkner controversy exploded, Smith inquired about the prospects of interdisciplinary graduate work: "Would an attempt to work out the influence of anthropology on modern literary criticisms have any chance of being accepted as a doctoral dissertation at a German university?" In their response, the Institute rejected Smith's idea, suggesting that he seek a "more practical" combination of subjects. Smith mentioned the same idea in a 1932 letter to B. A. Botkin inquiring about graduate work at the University of Nebraska, but quickly backed off the idea despite Botkin's positive feedback, explaining: "I really think that my wild idea of writing something about anthropology and literary criticism was a wild idea, mainly because I do not know anything about anthropology." A friend of Austin's and editor of the journal Folk-Say, Botkin, too, saw traditional disciplinary boundaries as inadequate for the study of regional culture. Indeed, Botkin saw his work as a blend of history and poetry, explaining to Smith that "if at the present I seem to be riding two horses at once it is because they are inseparable and also because I have no precedent for what I am trying to do and have to feel my way." In this respect, Austin was an inspiration for both men. As Smith put it, she found ways to bridge the domains of "botany, geology, archaeology, the psychology of genius, history, anthropology, literary history, sociology, prose fiction, regional culture, religion, and verse for children."
It was in this context that Smith wrote to Austin to share the story of the conflict over Miss Zilphia Gant. Despite Smith's frustration with "the whole question of ecclesiastical control over the University," his letter covered a range of topics, noting his travels in Europe, surprise at the popularity of American movies, and high regard for Thomas Mann. With characteristic irreverence, Austin dismissed her friend's critics as unworthy of his talents:
I have just gotten around to Miss Zilphia Gant, and I am saying pouf-pouf! to your Faculty. I cannot imagine what they have in their minds.... I am at least convinced that you have a positive flair for literary criticism and that you ought to be in a better place than S.M.U. More power to you.
As it happened, the controversy coincided with the publication of Austin's autobiography, Earth Horizon, which included lengthy descriptions of her childhood encounter with Methodism and later turn toward mysticism without dogma. On November 4, 1932, Smith wrote to Austin expressing his enthusiasm for the book. Since his own education had been "confined to that academic atmosphere" that accepted scientific materialism as axiomatic, he found it "little short of astonishing" that Austin's account so strongly attracted his attention, offering spiritual insight without the dogmas that "cloud and conceal and distort ordinary accounts of religious experience." Linking the autobiography with the dispute over Miss Zilphia Gant, Smith speculated that "being an American" was a "mystical undertaking" unmoored from inherited traditions, and that the problem with ecclesiastical control of the University boiled down to its inability to step outside dogmas to engage honestly with American experience, as Faulkner did. In Smith's view, the problem was amplified by the alliance of religious authorities with "conservative elements" of the community, namely, "the business men who give the money and who regard every departure from the accepted canons of economics, good taste, style of dress, architecture, or even music as a threat to a status quo of which religion and the careful structure of the church are only minor parts."
Smith's appreciation for Austin's support echoed her own homage to William James, whom she credited in Earth Horizon with affirming, during a brief visit to San Francisco at the turn of the twentieth century, her interest in spiritual wholeness and creative prayer as legitimate objects of intellectual attention. Many decades later, Austin pointed Smith to the work of John Dewey and exchanged thoughts on William James, recognizing in her young friend a similar unconventionality and breadth of imagination. Although Smith disavowed any capacity for spirituality, Austin nevertheless helped clarify his interest in avenues of intellectual activity outside the academy, an interest that he later channeled into American Studies. "It may interest you," Smith wrote to Austin on April 18, 1933, "to know that more and more I find my thinking dominated by several ideas which came to me through your work. You have rescued me from academicism: I could so easily have been lost!"
Document One: Mary Hunter Austin to Henry Nash Smith, June 11, 1930, Mary Hunter Austin Collection of Letters and Papers, MSS C-H 48, Bancroft Library, Berkeley, California.
Mary Austin Santa Fe, New Mexico June 11, 1930 My dear Henry: I am delighted to know that my last letter was of use to you with your Chamber of Commerce. It is too bad that you should be held up in this fashion. What you must do is to put a ring in the nose of your Chamber of Commerce and lead it around with a string, the way we do here. The best way to begin that is to have someone of your group, preferably someone who does not live in Dallas, write something about Dallas for an Eastern paper, giving an outside view, which is, of course, that the Southwest Review is almost the only thing in Texas which entitles Texas to rank with other Southwestern states on a cultural basis. Chambers of Commerce are more sensitive to that sort of thing than to anything else. A little later I'll try and think out something myself which will get you into the news. Perhaps I can do something in Mexico. I think it's all right to go on to France since you've arranged it. You will need that European background, although I am convinced that France is more important to our past than she will ever be to our future. If you can stretch your hard cash, do try to get down to Spain before you return. They are having a renaissance of art and culture in Spain which is likely to be felt even here in the Southwest, and you should place yourself as advantageously toward it as possible. As for writing something for the Fall number, I don't feel at all certain. If I'm far enough along with my autobiography I might snatch you a bit out of that, or it is just possible that I may write you something of what is going on in Mexico in relation to what is going on on this side of the border. Margaret Larkin, of whom you already know something, will be in my house while I am gone, and I am suggesting to her that she may find something to write you about things here. I think, on the whole, that you are doing well to dig into your Texas material, but you must not neglect the really important things happening around Santa Fe. Look up Ezra Pound in France and tell him I sent you. Let me know if you go to England in time so I can send you a few letters there. Hastily, Mary Austin
Document Two: Henry Nash Smith to Mary Hunter Austin, October 2, 1932, AU 4715, Box 112, Mary Hunter Austin Papers, Huntington Library, San Marino, California.
3431 Cedar Springs Road Dallas Sunday October 2 Dear Mrs. Austin: I have been back from England for several weeks, but I have had my hands so full that I have not been able to do anything with the REVIEW. On August 24 I received in Europe letters from President Selecman and Professor Beaty, head of the English department, asking me to resign from the faculty of the University because I had written a preface to a book (Miss Zilphia Gant ) by William Faulkner, which was brought out privately by the Texas Book Club in June. They considered the book "obscene and immoral in tone"; and although my preface was a fairly objective essay on Faulkner's work, they are determined to get rid of me. I returned as soon as possible, and since then have been submerged in a mess of Methodist politics. I have refused to resign, and my case must be referred to a committee of the board of trustees. Meanwhile I am on the payroll but have been assigned no classes. We are trying to get to the committee, most of whom are business men in Dallas or prominent churchmen; but my hands are tied because I am afraid of doing anything that might be construed as sabotage and thus made the basis for firing me even if the other incident could be straightened out. Sentiment in the University is I believe on my side, and some of the executive committee will favor my case; I anticipate a successful issue, but it will take perhaps a month to get through all the red tape. Copies of the book in question are scarce, and my two are lent at the moment to members of the committee; but as soon as I can get hold of one I shall send it to you. All this, of course, is mainly for your information. It is a nasty scrap which is beginning to draw into play a great many other minor wrangles out of the past, and which of course focuses the whole question of ecclesiastical control of the University. However it turns out, I am not long for SMU and must look elsewhere even if I manage to hold on here until I can make other plans. The REVIEW is at a standstill. A summer issue was ready to go press when this thing came up, but when our financial support from the University seemed threatened we did not feel like incurring further obligations to the printers. I don't know whether or not we shall be able to get the REVIEW away from the university and try to finance it elsewhere, in Dallas or in some other place. Naturally I am faintly disgusted with universities in general and hope that some unacademic set-up may be found for the REVIEW. I shall let you know whatever happens. My summer in England makes me a more violent American than I was before, but I had an ecstatic week walking through the Black Forest. That is a region expressly created for the purpose of being walked through. I learned from the English just how profound a change in the human type the American idea of democracy (I don't want to be trite) may bring about. Granted that you do nothing more than set up a new hierarchy, a new caste system based upon money-making ability or cunning or what-not--at least you have disturbed the feudal European rhythm in its modern set form, and have set free forces that ought to bring about a reorientation of personality. Americans are more like Germans than they are like either English or French,--because the Germans have really no longer a history as a nation than we have?... The most astonishing single phenomenon in Europe is the popularity of American movies. Are you making any lecture tours this winter? I should like to see you--perhaps if I am ultimately fired I can run out to New Mexico before I go to work somewhere else. I have not had a chance yet to read your autobiography, though McGinnis tells me he has proof sheets. Have you read Thomas Mann's The Magic Mountain? He is probably the greatest living European writer (you will allow me a schoolboy enthusiasm and hyperbole!) Sincerely-- Henry Smith
Document Three: Mary Hunter Austin to Henry Nash Smith, October 6, 1932, Mary Hunter Austin Collection of Letters and Papers, MSS C-H 48, Bancroft Library, Berkeley, California.
Mary Austin Santa Fe, New Mexico October 6, 1932 Mr. Henry Smith, 3431 Cedar Springs Road, Dallas, Texas Dear Henry: I am not at all surprised to hear that you have been requested to resign from the Faculty, and not nearly so much distressed by it as I might have been. I think that you have done quite right in refusing to resign, and I have no doubt that you have handled the situation as wisely as could be done. Except for its being a rather bad time for universities all around, I would really rejoice over your being free from the trammels of Methodistism [sic ]. It is time for you to get into a larger school where your special abilities will have more scope. I shall be very glad to see the book which you have incurred so much in sponsoring. I don't care a great deal for Faulkner myself. I can't always make out what he is driving at, and he is occasionally, if not actually obscene, at least careless of the ordinary conventions of English speech. But I shall be very glad to read what you have said of him. I shall be more than interested to hear the discussion of ecclesiastical control of the university. You must be sure to send me anything that is written about it. I hope that you can get separate control for the Review ; unacademic control will be much better for it, and ought not to be too difficult in so rich a state as Texas. If there is anything I can do to help you in these matters, please do not hesitate to call upon me. I understand that you would not feel like issuing another number while the present imbroglio is on. I suppose that this delay will interfere with your publishing anything of the autobiography, since the date of book publication is set for November ninth. I am very much interested in what you have to say about what England taught you of America. I am not, however, surprised that you are struck with the popularity of the American movie. After all, the American movie is based upon the very thing that made America--realization of the subconscious aspirations of lower middle class people, in which all the appurtenances of desirable living, in the free play of middle class emotion, fall into the hands of lower middle class people. There are an astonishing number of people in Europe who want to think that America is like that. Yes, I have read Thomas Mann's Magic Mountain , and agree with you as to his place in European letters, and I shall be delighted to see you, if you could manage a few days at Santa Fe, although I don't want you to have to be "fired" in order to achieve it. And by the way, if it comes to getting another job, if there is anything I can do for you about that, let me know. I used to have rather wide connections with universities, although these have lapsed somewhat of late years. Yes, I am going east on a lecture trip this winter, and I am trying to get some lectures in Texas. If you have any suggestions to make, I should be glad to hear them, although the lecture outlook everywhere is less promising than it has been for a number of years. With best wishes for the outcome of your affairs, I am, Sincerely yours, Mary Austin
Document Four: Henry Nash Smith to Mary Hunter Austin, November 4, 1932, AU 4716, Box 112, Mary Hunter Austin Papers, Huntington Library, San Marino, California.
3431 Cedar Springs Rd Dallas, Texas, November 4, 1932 Dear Mrs. Austin: I have delayed writing you in reply to your solidly reassuring letter until I should have some definite news about my status at the University. But apparently they are going to keep me dangling about for some time; and meanwhile I have read your autobiography. I want to write you about that. I should begin by saying that as I read, for instance, James's Varieties of Religious Experience or Fox's journal, or even as I hear some of my friends talk, I realize that I am almost if not entirely devoid of the slightest capacity for the type of experience which you call in your foreword Mystical. I can not even remember any adolescent emotional crisis in which I felt a trace of support from outside myself. I have never had anything approaching an intuition or premonition. I have never experienced knowing-at-a-distance; and I even believe I am devoid of hunches. My education, to the extent of its formal course, has also been confined to that academic atmosphere which accepts as axiomatic (without always accepting explicitly) the Newton-Kant-modern-science materialistic presuppositions. At Harvard I was exposed to Irving Babbitt's denunciation of all primitivism as a dangerous end-product of Rousseau. Under these circumstances, it is little short of astonishing that I should be so intensely interested in your own point of view in particular, and in the consequences which necessarily follow if several of your specific experiences are valid. But I believe few books I have read have absorbed me more completely than yours--the autobiography, of course, appears to me as the summing up of what you have touched upon in other places, particularly in Everyman's Genius (which I reviewed while I was in college as the first of your books I had read) and Experiences Facing Death . As I read, I realize that here is the core of religious experience without the Hebraic trappings which, made into dogmas, cloud and conceal and distort ordinary accounts of religious experience. It occurs to me that the peculiar emotionalism you observe in others in their approaches to mystical experience, but which you could not share with them, may be due to this Hebraic (accidental) cast: an emotionalism arising out of the persecutions suffered by the Hebrews and their suspicion of art which made rhythmic and pictorial adjustments of emotion almost unavailable for them without immediate association with specific religious dogmas. This emotionalism, however, once taken up into the medieval tradition and made part of the orthodox Bible, perpetuates itself through the written word and unconsciously suggests an emotional form for whatever religious experiences proceed from within the dogmatic structure. I have also just been reading Bergson's Les Deux Sources de la Morale et de la Religion : he makes an interesting point of the way in which mystical experience is usually colored by whatever dogmas the believer has assimilated. But he postulates a central sore [sic] of such experience which is independent of dogmas; it is interesting to me that you find Indian terms convenient in trying to avoid the confusion of commonplace images and idioms. The question to which all of this leads up is: apart from belief, apart from some set of orthodoxies, how is such experience transmissible? It seems almost entirely private, ineffable; it can be described, but lacking a common ground of belief, it can not, so far as I can see, be conveyed. Yet the immense importance of such experience makes me wonder if some way could not be found for conveying it. I am aware that in Everyman's Genius you have described certain elementary techniques which apply without distinction to artistic and to religious modes. But somehow these techniques have not touched a responsive chord in me. This discussion is the more interesting because it seems to me that being an American is in itself [a] sort of mystical undertaking. The powerful European traditions and modes which serve to bolster and guide other peoples are completely invalid here; and the peculiar value of your account of your own life seems to me to lie in its revelation of how the experiences of art, religion, nature, can all be undertaken in America where the aid of the European systems is not available. But I find myself in between: neither European nor American modes are available for me; and I am thrown back upon a sterile individualism of the sort which I discern, for instance, in Sinclair Lewis, John Dos Passos, Robinson Jeffers, or (with some Platonic fringes) in George Sterling: in fact, in almost every one of the many writers of contemporary America, who have genius perhaps but no deep source of power and consolation. This unexpectedly brings me back to Faulkner; for the principal thing I have to say about him is that he belongs also in this class of writers who have no tradition and who are too honest and too genuine in their artistic perceptions to pretend to have one. I am sending you a copy of the book. Of course the University authorities completely missed the point--I really can't blame them. If you once grant the impossible premise that a church with a fixed set of beliefs can undertake to teach anything but these beliefs, you have still to take into account the close alliance of the church with the most conservative elements in any community--that is, the business men who give the money and who regard every departure from the accepted canons of economics, good taste, style of dress, architecture, or even music as a threat to a status quo of which religion and the careful structure of the church are only minor parts. That is the real trouble. The administration of the University is sensitive to the point of hysteria about anything which might seem to a prospective donor of money "radical". They are not really prudish themselves if they would only admit their own motives; they are prudish out of policy. And, granted the conditions under which they are trying to run a university, they could hardly be anything else. Thus I agree with you that my trouble with them is in a real sense inevitable. When I finally get fired, or when (as in any event will be the case) I have to leave at the end of the year, I shall be very grateful for your assistance in finding a place. What we are going to do with the Review does not yet appear. We have decided to try to get our appropriation for this year to bring out the now long delayed summer number, but beyond that we can not see. It might be possible to get the Carnegie people interested in it if we could get it away from the University and show them a non-academic set-up; but debts to the printer and unexpired subscriptions which any new arrangement would have to assume responsibility for, are deterrents. The Arnold Foundation for Pubic [sic ] Affairs at SMU (through S. D. Myres, a friend of ours who teaches government) dangles the possibility of an alliance with some other university and the conversion of the Review into a political science journal; they say literary policies can remain intact, but they of course are using "literary" in the common acceptance of the term as meaning poetry and fiction, and are not aware that the life of the Review has depended upon a conception of regionalism which embraces politics and poetry in one indistinguishable policy. I have not been able to find out anything about lecture arrangements. Groups here usually arrange for their lecturers far in advance, and they don't want to pay anything. Texas is rich in cotton and oil, but when the bottom drops out of both these markets and out of the wheat market as well you get the immense amount of unemployment which we now have. No one thinks himself even approximately solvent. It is a shame that we were delayed so long we couldn't use the material from the autobiography. Mr. McG and Karl Elmquist, a young man I had taken on as apprentice, had arranged the best issue of the Review we have ever had while I was gone this summer; the loss of your essay breaks up the unity of the issue and destroys their program. But we'll get out with some kind of an issue. I hope you do, however, get to Texas sometime this winter. We extend every invitation and promise of a cordial reception. Sincerely, Henry Smith
Document Five: Mary Hunter Austin to Henry Nash Smith, November 28, 1932, Mary Hunter Austin Collection of Letters and Papers, MSS C-H 48, Bancroft Library, Berkeley, California.
Mary Austin Santa Fe, New Mexico November 28, 1932 Mr. Henry Smith, 3431 Cedar Springs Road, Dallas, Texas. My dear Henry: I have just returned from my trip to New York for the launching of the autobiography, which went off remarkably well. The New York reviews were all astonishingly appreciative, not to say enthusiastic, and the advance sales were very satisfactory. And now I will try to answer your letter of November 4th. I have decided that I must write an article about it. It seems to me that your problem is one that affects the younger generation very markedly, so that in this letter I shall probably not be as explicit as in the article, which I hope to be able to send you as soon as it is published. I think we do get at the core of mystical experience in Bergson's book. It is colored by the dogmas which the believer has at times entertained, but it is also quite true that there is a core of such experience which is entirely independent and which appears to be universally human and discussable under common terms among all races of people. In my autobiography, I think I have touched upon the way the experience began to rationalize for me through the knowledge I had of Indian mysticism as an explicit motion of the mind. That motion, I think, is the movement of the subconscious perceptivity coming through to the threshold of consciousness, and it is a genuine motion; that is to say, there is an emergence of subconscious perceptivity which, by whatever names it gets itself called, universally occurs. For example, the prophetic quality of dreams. I am convinced that dreaming true is one of the things we all used to do, and if you have read Dunne's "Experiment with Time," you will see how easily that can be restored, and what is the rational basis of dreaming true. Dunne reduces it to a mathematical formula which I cannot always follow, but am willing to accept. All the other phenomena are of a piece with this--hunches, premonitions, foreknowing, and perhaps perceptions of destiny. I say that these things were formerly much more universal than they are now, when they have been overlaid by the high excitations of the centers of consciousness which prevail in modern life. I use Indian terms because I find them the least colored by attempts at rationalization, but I believe that the processes and evolution of mystical phenomena were identical for all peoples in the early stages of society. It was not until we began to try to rationalize them that we got into difficulties about them. The highest points of evolution of the mystical processes are found among the religions of the Far East and in Christian mysticism. There has not been very much advance in mystical practice since the Fifteenth century of Christian mysticism. After the advent of Protestantism, the associations of mystical practice were all of the offensive Catholic quality, so gradually the secret of mystical practice was lost, and in modern Protestantism only partially replaced by pure emotionalism. I think I made that fairly clear in my autobiography, that what separated me from the Protestant religion in which I was brought up, was the difference between the pure mysticism in my own experiences and the emotionalism of my Protestant ancestry. The emotional experience fails to get you anywhere; it merely repeats itself and does not evolve into a larger practice. In your case and in the case of your generation, to the old and deeply imbedded prejudice against Catholic practice there has been added the revolt against emotionalism, so that you and your generation have developed inhibitions against mystical experience. I think it is quite true that you are unable to enter into my own, but I do not feel that that incapacity is in any way to your advantage. What I tried to do in Everyman's Genius was to restore the lost capacity for making those explicit motions of the subconscious which are the basis of genius experience as well as religious experience. I feel that it is highly important that this capacity should be restored, and that skill in making such motions should be inculcated as part of our education. If you stop to think about it, you will realize that all of the mental motions inculcated by our modern system of education are objective; that we have nothing whatever by way of training for the subconscious, so that it is not at all surprising that your generation should have lost the power of making effective movements of the subconscious such as I have described as happening to me quite naturally. I hope that this will make the matter a little plainer to you, and I shall take great interest in sending you the article I mean to write. I hope very much that you will be able to make a suitable arrangement about the Review. It seems too bad that so promising a regional journal should be allowed to decline. Wishing you every possible success, I am, Sincerely yours, Mary Austin
Note on Sources:
The Austin-Smith correspondence, which included approximately fifty letters spanning 1928 to 1934, is divided between two repositories: the Huntington Library in San Marino, California, and the Bancroft Library in Berkeley, California. Other quotations are drawn from the Marshall Terry Papers, John McGinnis Papers, Lon Tinkle Papers, and boxes 22 and 35 of the Southwest Review Records--all at the DeGolyer Library in Dallas, Texas. Cited publications by Henry Nash Smith include: "Culture," Southwest Review, Vol. 13, no. 2 (Winter 1928): 249- 255, and "The Feel of Purposeful Earth: Mary Austin's Prophesy," New Mexico Quarterly, Vol. 1, no. 1 (February 1931): 17-33. The dispute over Miss Zilphia Gant is recounted in Stanley Marcus, Minding the Store: A Memoir (London, 1974), 327, and David Farmer, Stanley Marcus: A Life with Books (Fort Worth: Texas Christian University Press, 1993), 15-19.
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