Titles, Texts, and Some Sapphic Poems

When I started compiling a list of the poems Lizette Woodworth Reese shared with the Woman’s Literary Club, I realized that my primary challenge would be tracking down the actual titles of her works mentioned on the meeting programs I’ve transcribed (1890-1905). More often than not, her original works are just listed as something unhelpful like “Three Poems, Lizette Woodworth Reese.” Fortunately, I was able to find many of these missing titles in the minutes that have been transcribed so far (1890-1895, 1910-1912), and hope to find the rest by looking through the minutes of the 1895-1905 seasons.

Another related challenge/question I encountered whose answer also lies in the minutes is that since the formatting for almost every kind of presentation given to the Club follows more or less the same = format on the programs, it’s tricky to tell whether something Lizette shared that actually was titled something other than “Poem” is a poem or something else–an essay, a review, a story. Again, referring to the corresponding meeting minutes usually clears this up.

Of the 20 readings I’ve been able to both identify as poems and confirm titles of, I’ve been able to track down the text of 13 so far. I’ve found the texts Lizette chose to read to the Club scattered all over the place–some in her published volumes, some in her papers held at the Enoch Pratt Free Library, and some on generic poetry sites and in periodical records online.

One of her poems that struck me in particular is called “Lydia,” and it stood out to me for a couple of reasons. At first glance, I thought it could perhaps be written about the longtime Club recording secretary, Lydia Crane, especially since it was one of the first things Lizette shared with the Club. However, upon closer investigation, the poem references Sudbury, a town in Massachusetts, twice, so that doesn’t seem likely.

The other reason this poem caught my eye has to do with our prior group discussion about how many of the Club women, including Lizette Woodworth Reese, remained unmarried. We’ve also discussed ‘Boston marriages,’ and the possibility that the reason for some of these women remaining unwed could be because they weren’t heterosexual. In “Lydia” and the poem that immediately follows it in the collection of poems I found it in, “Anne,” (which also references Sudbury), I hear what, to me, could definitely be the voice of a woman who loves other women. Both of these poems are celebrations of another woman’s beauty, grace, and glory (“Anne” even raises its subject to the level of divinity, and romanticizes her from afar) and both contain strong violet imagery, which has long been associated with lesbianism thanks to the Greek poet Sappho.

I don’t want to make broad claims about a dead woman’s sexuality without evidence, or claim that these two poems that caught my eye are necessarily evidence themselves. However, following our prior conversations (and even before that), it’s been on my mind, so discovering this sort of poetry leaves a strong impression on me, and I’m looking forward to uncovering more of what Lizette Woodworth Reese chose to share with the Club.

Publication

I ran into Dr. Cole on campus this week, and we had a brief chat regarding my upcoming assignment, which is to track how Lizette Woodworth Reese’s poetic career grew and was shaped over the course of her experience with the Club. One thing we touched upon was how determined many members of the Club were to get their works published, or at least to share their own original works with their peers. In thinking about the work I’ve done so far with the Club programs, I’m pleasantly surprised at how frequently these women brought their own literary and artistic talents to the table right alongside readings and discussions of established works of (men’s) literature. Whether they read or presented their own works or had a fellow club member do so for them, I have come across hundreds of instances of original writing and art being given a platform at club meetings.

Reading Sydney’s post about searching for information about Club members when we often have only a husband’s name to work with made me similarly frustrated. Especially in the context of producing original content, it’s a little disheartening to reflect on how little I know or would be able to know about a married woman who wrote something still under her husband’s name. This issue is further complicated in my corner by the fact that very often, the actual titles of the women’s original work is not listed on programs. Instead, title of the reading or presentation was often just something like “A Story,” “Two Poems,” or “A Sketch,” with no further clues as to what it might be about. Sometimes however, this was not so, and I am fortunate to have some actual titles on record. In fact, some readings of original works have titles that include the title of an actual upcoming published volume, particularly Miss Lizette Woodworth Reese, who alongside Miss Virginia Woodward Cloud and a few others, I have noticed reading most frequently.

I’m still curious as to how much of a collaborative process these public readings of original work were, particularly the ones that come from or led to publication. Are the works just labeled “Story,” or “Poem,” works in progress? Did these women provide feedback for each other like a writing workshop, or were they simply enjoying one another’s pieces? I hope to find out more this week as I delve into this topic through the lens of Lizette.

Programs, Revisited

This past week, I spent more time with the nine years’ worth of programs I transcribed during our first week, fitting the information into a spreadsheet in the hopes of making it all more easily sortable and searchable. As I reread all of the programs, I kept our conversations from our coffeeshop meeting in mind. One part of the Club that I paid special attention to this time around was the rise and development of their meetings and committee dedicated to philanthropy. By 1900, the most recent year of programs I transcribed, the Club had a ‘Committee on Modern Philanthropy,’ led by Mrs. John M. Carter, which would lead meetings consisting of a few talks and presentations. Sometimes, these meetings would have talks dedicated to what seem to be causes these women deemed worthy of donation in the spirit of philanthropy, such as a meeting in January of 1896 that contained presentations such as “Children of the State” and “For Suffering Humanity.” However, more frequent amongst the programs than these sorts of pointed topics are far more generalized talks and mentions of philanthropy, such as “Philanthropy–Its History and Methods,” “Some Phases of Philanthropy,” “The Higher Education of Women applied to Philanthropy,” and “What is Philanthropy?” to name a few from across the span of 1890-1900. Occasionally the Club would host debates, which I mentioned in my post from last week, that sometimes had to do with one of the aforementioned ‘worthy causes,’ however, as I believe we discussed at our meeting, these debates do not seem to result in any direct action, they just look like an intellectual exercise performed on the backs of people in need. This emphasis on philanthropy as a concept instead of an action with direction and effect on the world, to me, goes hand in hand with conversations and questions raised at our meeting–what were these elite women actually doing with their platform? It seems to me, having primarily interacted with programs that provide little detail or summary of the talks and presentations, that these women are more concerned with crafting the image of the spirit of giving rather than the spirit itself. Again, the higher frequency of discussion of philanthropy in general instead of how to best allocate any real funds to those in need just seems like an intellectual exercise, or even a brag, done at the expense of others these women would deem unworthy of Club membership. I’m curious as to how much of their funds from dues, etc., were used for actual philanthropy, since they have a whole committee dedicated to it but no programs mentioning neither donation nor public activism and/or volunteer work (or anything of the sort).

Snippets from Nine Years of Club Programs

Over the past week, I’ve transcribed programs from the Woman’s Literary Club of Baltimore spanning from October of 1890 to June of 1899. While it’s often been difficult to glean more than surface-level information from these documents, like names and general topics, a few things that I’ve noticed have piqued my interest. For instance, I’ve made note of each time a woman with a doctorate spoke to the club, or was listed on a program–so far, nine times in nine years. There have also been a handful of non-doctor professors or instructors who have been noted as such. Many women appear to be sharing their own written works, like short stories or poems, with the club, or reading aloud the projects of their peers. There are also meetings dedicated entirely to music performed by club members. I think this sharing of personal accomplishments amongst the presentations and discussions with loftier, academic titles is lovely–though I don’t have any more information from the program itself beyond the fact that a woman is sharing her work, it’s clear that these women gather to both spread knowledge and support each other in creative endeavors.

It’s also been interesting just to see how little the formatting of the programs themselves has changed over almost a decade. There are small discrepancies in phrasing from each to the next, but overall the largest change I’ve noticed has been the design of the decorative trim. Every program is printed in purple, and I’ve seen a handwritten note on stationary stamped with the club’s crest, also in purple, and I wonder why that specific aesthetic choice was made from the very beginning.  Later on in the years I’ve transcribed, though, there have been some programs that do stand out from the rest. A handful of programs document a club debate, and list the topic, key question, and who will argue for each side, and also note that after such debates, the entire rest of the club was invited to share their own thoughts. Another part of this that I found notable was the rigor with which these debates were laid out; in some programs, it’s specified that a member of the general body of the club will have a maximum of two minutes to speak.

The instance when I received the most personal information about members of the club occurred while reading the the ‘program’ for October 30, 1894. There is no program for this date, just a handwritten note that was likely posted on a door to the meeting-place announcing that there would be no meeting that day since a woman who had been a member since the club’s conception, Mrs. Easter, had died, and encouraging club members to attend her funeral instead. A few weeks later, the club had an entire meeting dedicated to memorializing Mrs. Easter, with a eulogy of sorts and readings from her poems and critiques. It was so nice to see within these seemingly straightforward programs the kind of care that goes on behind the scenes of this organization, and I’m looking forward to similar types of revelations.