{"id":88398,"date":"2015-07-30T17:27:43","date_gmt":"2015-07-30T21:27:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=88398"},"modified":"2015-07-31T11:29:54","modified_gmt":"2015-07-31T15:29:54","slug":"naptime-with-mrs-melville","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/07\/30\/naptime-with-mrs-melville\/","title":{"rendered":"Naptime with Mrs. Melville"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"14984882026_7b8ff43108_o\"<\/a>

A portrait of Maria Gansevoort Melville by Ezra Ames, ca. 1815.<\/p><\/div>\n

Yesterday we posted Rick Moody\u2019s introduction to Genoa: A Telling of Wonders<\/em><\/a>, a searching 1965 novel by Paul Metcalf in which he grapples with the influence of his great-grandfather, who so happened to be Herman Melville.<\/p>\n

Metcalf makes liberal use of Melville throughout the novel, often quoting his work for paragraphs or pages at a stretch. He also inserts his own asides, and one of these in particular I\u2019ve found striking. \u201cI think, for a moment,\u201d he writes,<\/p>\n

\n

of Maria Melville, Herman Melville\u2019s mother, who, it is reliably reported, would require her eight children to sit on little stools around her bed, motionless, while she took her daily nap, that she might keep track of them.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

I just about fell out of my chair when I read this. Think, if it\u2019s true, of the remarkable fortitude required of both parties: of Maria, who cut such an imposing matriarchal figure that she was able to coerce eight children into doing her bidding even when she was asleep, and of the kids, who were able to sit together with enough stillness and silence that their mother never woke from her slumber. Whether these were twenty-minute forerunners of the power nap or long, REM<\/small>-laden getaways remains to be seen. Either way, I\u2019m impressed.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m also skeptical. I haven\u2019t been able to verify the story anywhere, not even with several minutes of sustained Googling. Genoa <\/em>appears to be its only source. You could shrug it off, easily enough, as apocrypha\u2014but Metcalf went out of his way to insert that \u201cit is reliably reported,\u201d a frustratingly passive construction. Yes, as a direct descendent of Melville, he\u2019s credible, and his account, in its specificity, feels believable, too, right down to the detail of the \u201clittle stools.\u201d (Were these on hand for just this occasion?) But we\u2019re too late for any lapel grabbing or information pumping: Metcalf died in 1999.<\/p>\n

Melville scholars seem to agree that Maria was something of a martinet. Edwin Haviland Miller described her as \u201cimprisoned in her egomaniacal world\u201d; Clare Spark wrote that \u201cshe <\/em>was the voice of authority, she <\/em>held the rod, she <\/em>relentlessly criticized her children\u201d; and Paul McCarthy calls her \u201cquietly aggressive and purposeful \u2026 As a mother, Maria was devoted and caring, but she was also strict and sometimes coercive.\u201d He cites the napping scheme, unattributed, as evidence of her iron fist. It was especially cruel, he adds, because the Melvilles kept a maid who could easily have cared for the children during naptime.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe was certainly, in a guileless way, ambitious socially\u201d Newton Arvin writes in his Herman Melville<\/em>:<\/p>\n

\n

She does not fail to note in a letter that they have moved to the \u201cFashionable side\u201d of Broadway, or in another letter that some oysters she has pickled are not only excellent in flavor but \u201cthe same which some of our Stylish Neighbors in Bond Street gave at a large party of Fashionables.\u201d Life in Albany in her girlhood had accustomed Maria Melville to taking for granted the most distinguished associations within reach, and the more metropolitan, more cosmopolitan New York of the \u2018twenties may have caused her some throes of disappointment, even of hurt pride. \u201cFashionables I am affraid [sic] have no hearts,\u201d she remarks \u2026 In the long run the ambitious and commanding side of Maria Melville\u2019s nature was to gain the upper hand.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Much of this squares with the image of a woman who would have her children gather punctiliously at her bedside every day\u2014especially when Arvin adds that the siblings\u2019 affection for one another \u201cran too deep and [was], if anything, too intense.\u201d<\/p>\n

Melville is supposed to have based the haughty, icy Mrs. Glendinning, from his novel Pierre<\/em>, on his mother; tellingly, the word Glendinning most affiliates with her son is docile<\/em>. When he defies her, as Joseph Adamson explains in Melville, Shame, and the Evil Eye<\/em>, \u201cin a fit of frustration and rage \u2026 she flings her fork, which accidentally pierces her portrait, so that the tines \u2018caught in the painted bosom, vibrantly rankled in the wound.\u2019 \u201d<\/p>\n

This is getting pretty Freudian\u2014but it\u2019s all support for the cause. I urge anyone with knowledge of Maria Melville\u2019s child-rearing strategies to be in touch. Whether it\u2019s true or not, there\u2019s something indelibly tragicomic about Metcalf\u2019s image. If young Herman really was made to spend a not insignificant portion of his childhood watching his mom sleep, it goes some way toward explaining his problematic relationship with her, especially after his father died. \u201cThere grew up between the two,\u201d Arvin writes, \u201can intense and contrarious relationship, and a far from fortunate one \u2026 His mother could not or would not shower upon him the affection he craved, and the sense of orphanhood began to grow upon him.\u201d<\/p>\n

And so goodnight.<\/p>\n

Dan Piepenbring is the web editor of\u00a0<\/em>The Paris Review.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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