a review by Rich Horton
Julian
Street (1879-1940) was a novelist, art and drama critic, and oenophile. He was
born in Chicago, went to college in Canada, and moved to New York at the turn
of the century, working for the New York Mail. He moved to Princeton in the ‘20s,
and a library at the university is named for him. He married Ada Hilt in 1900,
and she collaborated on the novel at hand, Tides, but not on any of his other works,
but as she died in 1926, the same year Tides was published, it’s hard to say if
she’d have done any more writing.
Street
wrote several novels but was probably better known for his short fiction (twice
he won an O. Henry Award); and for his nonfiction and criticism. His writing on
wine and French cooking led to his being given the Chevalier’s Cross of the
French Legion of Honor. He wrote travel books, a profile of his friend Theodore
Roosevelt, a play in collaboration with Booth Tarkington. And after all that,
he might be remembered best for the line he wrote, as an art critic, about
Marcel Duchamp’s Nude Descending a Staircase, calling it “an explosion in a
shingle factory”.
Tides
appears to have first appeared in the magazine Red Book. My edition, a first
(no dj, in indifferent shape), came from Doubleday and Page. It’s signed in
pencil “Margaret Richardson Dec 25th 1926”, so it seems perhaps to
have been a Christmas present. The book wasn't a major bestseller, and indeed Julian Street never had a book on Publishers' Weekly's yearly top ten list, but I gather that he was a reasonably successful writer in his day.
It opens
in 1884 with a man named Luke Holden visiting a real estate man named W. J.
Shire. They end up discussing Holden’s neighborhood, Oakland, near the
lakefront on the South Side of Chicago. Holden is married with a young
daughter, but soon he is expressing unseemly interest in Shire’s vulgar but
pretty daughter. And Shire is planning to move to Oakland, and to try to
promote it as a fashionable neighborhood (so that he can make money selling
real estate there). (Oakland is a real neighborhood, still identified as such today, though I think it would be fair to say it's not currently "fashionable".)
All this
is not pleasing to Luke Holden’s neighbor, old Zenas Wheelock, one of Chicago’s
original settlers. Zenas likes the countrified nature of Oakland in 1884, and
Shire’s plans will lead to a loss of privacy, and the gain of a lot of the
wrong sort of people. Zenas has a grandson, Alan, a fine young man despite his
disappointment in Alan’s father, a weak and ineffectual man only interested in
buying first editions.
The story
ends up being about two parallel subjects: fist, the life stories of Alan
Wheelock and Luke Holden’s daughter Blanche; and the way that these two
virtuous and worthy people, who it is clear love each other, mess up things so
they can never be together. And second, the way Chicago becomes a major city
(mostly, it seems, to its overall detriment, at least from the authors’ point
of view). The first thread follows their education in a small local school,
Blanche’s unfortunate home life, blighted by her father’s affair with Florence
Shire, followed by his wife’s death and then his marriage to Florence, a
terrible stepmother to Blanche. Luke Holden suffers financial reverses as well.
Alan becomes a well-respected businessman, but somehow he and Blanche miss
connections and she runs off with a dissolute would-be writer, while he marries
a pleasant but weak and somewhat vulgar local girl. Their lives go separate
ways, but each ends up quite unhappy in their marriages, though ultimately at
least somewhat successful otherwise.
Meanwhile,
in Chicago we see first the political rivalry between supporters of Grover
Cleveland and James Blaine, then the burgeoning development in Oakland (including,
gasp!, apartment houses), then the Columbian Exposition, and the “good”
neighborhoods moving to the North Side. Some of this is played out through
Zenas Wheelock’s memories and principles: his experiences in Chicago when it
was purely a frontier, his despair over the fate of his previous neighborhood,
especially when his old house becomes a whorehouse, his personal honesty and
the way that allows people like Holden and Shire to take advantage of him as
they work to cheapen their neighborhood. By the end there are complaints about
the foolish young folks in the ‘20s …
As you can
gather, probably, the book is ragingly classist. There are plenty of swipes at
other ethnicities too, particularly the Irish and Germans. (Black people are
treated with some condescension but generally regarded as good people … and
Zenas Wheelock is a rock-ribbed Republican partly, perhaps mostly, because Abe
Lincoln freed the slaves.) For all that, it was fitfully enjoyable. There are
boring stretches, to be sure, and lots of ad hominem sort of attitudes, or
conveniently bad behavior by the wrong sorts of people which proves the authors’
points. But there’s also a certain honesty in showing its two heroes making
real mistakes and messing up their lives – though not to the point of real
tragedy either. And the details about Chicago late in the 19th
Century ring true, and I found them interesting (partly because I grew up in
the Chicago area).
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