ALSO
B Y ,MICILAEL,
KA,MhtilES
I??the P ~ JIdme: T EXmr-cnl fi~rpernreson A.pr,e?-tcn'~z Cultare (1997) TI?eLlrc~rjl? ilrrs: Gr/bel-;t.,5"el~Ie.crrrzll tl~eTra~?~fir-murion ofC"ultidri,l Cd':r-iirt:-tmzm rhe U P ~ IStates U ~ ((I996) hfcfidnw.r of2\/ier~ogt:1rtt~ge.r9f"Iir~ze mtld Yhdttlon ~ r A@?err~*un z Art a ~ i dC:u/tu?-c* (I 992)
~My.~tlc Char-dr orJ".iI4nrfu?~f: "IBe %zr~~fb~nzartal? g'"Ir11~ilt~oe 171Amencgr? Cfklture(1991) S~ifer-er~g~~g uzd 1,zberq: IA':071.etrrltlon,cl/Disc*ozlrr-scrm i4mer-t~v:ri.1? Ca'ultidfae{I 988) Selv11~gesund Bzms: 777e Fi~brzc~ ~ ~ I I -211~rlrn~~tc1In o P J ? Czrlti~rtv(I 987) ~1d1./I16~178?~c 7'blrr bfi5uId I';o oJJXtse@i Tbe C:crrz.dziirldszorz !a~1~~evrcun GIEII~NT-~ (1986) Spbel-esOJ'J,1l7eqv: CI~/a~tg~lg Per-t-eprz~r?~~ o_('l,zberqm ilrner*t~v:urz Cglflkre(r $36) A ,?eflzon oJ'YOarh: 73e Ar~?er.tc@l? Retolutzorr irnd the Ilz+fto?rcn/ Imag~?zrftzorr (I 978) G"o/onmd=\lea?Erk: ~1Xlrsrory
(I 97 5 )
People nJ'P~~rifdox: '4~1brgulfy T,'"cnz(.c;.r-ttt~zg c?~eO~tgfmz $AIPIIL"~IL.~IZZ Ctz*t/tzatmfz(X 97 2) Erq~treund ITZ~LTCA?: "I7e A@?r~tcn?? Colorrzesand the 1Uolztzc.f of l'c.fer.mntl/.~ (I 976)
Ctepu9e.r & Lzl~eqres:T?>e0rtgr;trs!fRepr-;r;enr@reC;ozjenzr~mr rrz GirlonmlA~~evrcu (19691 A Rope oJSS@rzd: TI?eCot~rzlalAgents, Bmttsh Polttt~~> crnd the iilmet-z~-~ln Reifol;~ltmn ( 1 968)
The Or-tgrr~sd'tbe R~ttevrc~z~~ dirrz.dziirldsror7: R Dot,ullr,e.~lrtzq Xltstory (1986) TI?ePan Bejb~-eUs: C"cnztt#~t~u~-@~y FIE~~~P-~L~:UI Wf-lttqg1'11 E ? IC'rrlted ~ ,Trare.s (19 Ro) Wbnt l r the Good yf'Ift.t~ory?"k?e/cz~t~d Lattcrs $Cnrl L. B~pi-ker;rgarr--ryq5 (I 97 3 )
"
The EXmr3t q'tl~eProorace d'hh?-lT"orkf bjt jlizEll@~?f Smzrb,,jk (1972) TI?eC~t?fl~upurntul Cd'zz~tttzixnor?: F:crq~~-;rOwn7-(!11 .VL"U* C'~z~l~*f:n111?dz~tg $the ~ilmet-z~-~l~z Exper~tt~zt-e (1 97 I) PO(ltf~:r ~12dk?o~-zetjt Co/o?~~fzlA@?r~tcn: L ) ~ ? P I o c ~ "QT ~ ID$ir-enl-e" L~
I 967)
Arnerican Culture American Tastes
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erican Cu erican Tastes Change and the 20th Century
i"t1 rigllts reserved. Printed in the Ij'liited States of ihlcrica.
No part of diis book may be rc~)roduccdin any rrlanner tvhasoevcr without wrinen perrrzission except in the case of brief quotations err~badicdin critical articles and rwiews. Fcrr inf~jnr~alion, address Basic Books, 10 East 53rd Street, Sew Xki,rk,S'li 10022-5299. First printed in 19999 by ,Ufred A. f(nopf, Inc.
Kamtnen, ,Z'LichacIC;. ibr~ericancutfirre, ik~lcricantastes: social change and the t\vencieth century / ,jlichaet Karmnen. 13.
C"'.
Iacltrdes index. ISBS 0-46 5-03729-1 I. U~iitcdS~tcs-SociaI life and cttstctrr~s-zot11 century. 2 , 1301mu).ar culture--Unit& S t a t e s 4 iistory- 20th century. 3. Social cliange-Utsited S t a t e s - H i s t o ~ y - century. 4. ~icsthetics-Social aspect:s-United States-EIistory- 20th cencurlr, 5 . Gonstu.1-rptior-r(Econonlics)-SociaI aspectsUnited States-I Iistory- zot11 cenmty. I. 'I'itfe. ~ 1 6 9 . 0 45. ~ ~ 1999 3oCt'.a973'090~- clczr 98-43155 GIP
Manufacn~wlin the Cnited States of America
Love cr3nsis.rtiin &is, &at two soiitudes protect ancl tc~uch, and greet each other.
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Contents ...
Xlll
Selective Chm.rlology
mi
3 27
d"srzsrk~&c~-i~%r, AmeraciJrla'sn, artd the 12br1sii.lg P~pgknrC~tlturc:
of
R l ~ ~ ~ ithe p t gRullrrilirries Bemeen 7;lsteLeuelr Cf/lttii*tzlC~-itici3'nfnrld the Ptzngb~wnntion ~f CztlttarnlAtithority The Grgdz~filEmeryence ofq~Wg.r.rCrlltnre asd i t 3 Critics ,Mass Ct-~lttrre in ,Itfop-eRecent Tiw/e.c: Prkssive
izntli$v Pa.~lricipatury? Hi~~o!-i&?ts a.nd the 12roblemof fl-"tpularCfdlftire hr Kerrent Tir~~es Mreti~lgsofihr iMiads? Moving Bqjo~dCl~.smnt~~y Cijrte~%)r-ies Appendix: ~ ( L F H ~ Oopt S ~ Tzpe~ttieth-CICpitr~ G PCI-C~~~~OPJS nfCulru9-e i z tbe U~rit~.d Sttzttl~
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Illustrations I. Grzey I~-LgndBe~zcb(1935) by Regisiinald Nfarsh (etclrind, 7'he \Rltiam Belltoll hfuseusn of Art, 'l'he Ilrriversity of Connecticut, Storrs, Col-rn,Gift of I le1ex-rBerltoll Boley, 23 2. H. L, i"1.rencke~zand George Jeun Natban (1947) by Imix-rg Pcx-rn (pIi1tinum-p3lladium print). I/npe, Febrrrary r, 1g48, Portrait (mtlery? Smithsonian Inslitucion. Cl;ift of Itvitlg Penn, Courtesy Vope. C:a~"yrigltrt O 1948 (re~zewed1976) by Cond@Nast i)u1>lications, fnc, 39
3. E ~ e s d ~Eue~zi~zg y g t be ,5"~voy B~~ll~-oo.nr (1 9 3 0 ) by Reginald Marsh (tempera on panel), Rose Art Lliluseum,Brandeis Universiy, %%Taltbam, 79 Llilass.C2ft of tlre f Zcsnorabte mTilliarnBenton, New York.
4.. KIISSFIILynes (I 949). Vatc Caltcctioxl of American Literacure, Beineckc Rare R w k and Manuscript Libraw Vale Lii~iversi~); New 1Saver-r,Conn, 96 P .
5. lasre-level chart drawn by Plhm Funk for L$ magazine, April I, Gourtesj~ of ?bm Funk. 98-99 6 , iilrtzlr"~Es~-gnij~r.i (I 939) by 1Icrbel-t Ckhr (gelatin silrrer print), Natiox-ral Portrait Gallery?Smithsonran Jtlstitutiox-r. 112
7. Edw~'B"dL. Beg-rzfr_y(1984) by Patri-zda 7;te (oil on canvas), National Portrait C;altery, SmithsarGarir tastirution. Gift of kchard t linds, E 12 8, Jeanne Ckordon of the Nfetropolitas~Opera crowning Paul %%fliternan as the "King of Jazz" in r 926. From Paul k%%iternan, Jazz (hTewb r k : j. E 1. Sears & Companj~~ 19261, p. 206. E 14
9, Bcm~ry(;oo117~11~1?il (1960) by Rent2 Robert Bortchtir:(oil on canvas). National T30rtrait C"rllery9 Smithsonian Institu~iion, Gift of Benji C;oodma~~ Lasseau and Rachel C;oodman Edelsan. E 15 10. Tgstc-level chart from The A ~ Z KepuhIic? L~ &)larchz, 1992, p, 26, C:orzrtcv of Tdd Friend. 127 t-
*
Iaste-level clrart from Tbe U&e Kegde4 Sept.-Oct. Courtesy of "E'ad Iirie~zd. I I,
12 .
I 992, p.
83. 128
H. L. LWkf~cke~ ( I 949) t9y At Hirsctt felci (hrc~rracheon I~oarcii).
Natior-rat 130rtrait Gallery, Smithsonian 1tlstitutlox-r. C c ~ z r t c vof A1 1Iirsclrfeld. I44
13- H o l I p ~ ~ d ( r g 3l7~) "E'homas y I: Tart Bexirton (tempera with oil on cai~vas),'f'fie Nelson-Atkns hfuseuxn of Art, Ka~~sas City, hfissouri (bequest af the artist), 63 '1: H. Bes-rton and R. P, Bcr-rton 'res~amcr-reav Tmsts/Lices-rscd by VAGA, New York, N,V, S4
14, The LWew Eievis~r,Set (I 949) by hTffisa Pup: Ig~arz'samt>idonsga befic1nd the mere flat ccl~r~ic strip: the inuicate plot of Kr~tz-yhit enccllrlpasses fgnatrds citiabolicaily contrik~edefforts to aanscend &c fiiimiliar two dimensic>ns,h e l a d y Aadanril of poprdar culture, and stain to &e rorxndness of high art. X p a a explains his intendons to (Iftisa Pup: ""Like other iininig~intsaal~rilh e i r children . . . Xknlready to give America a hig Chanrrkatl-tpresent: back-a new ixnage of the self. Brrt. this ti~newhy lock orxrselvcs up in the pop-calmre ghettc;l".$Ihy not strut uptown to the mansion of high art, of roundness, 2nd say &at or~rgift tro Amel-ica codd rank with Eugene 0Weill"sr Llienry JarlsesS? a traily de7iiucrgfic high art. America needs the America ~~eells rc>unrilcon~lcseip!"
\&Yi&out.wadition there can be no taste, and what is worse, there can be little for taste to act upon.
Good taste citoes pay off, wirhorxt. any question, l---
l a r y Sclzel-xnan, fox~nderof the Book-of-trl1e-,2.1011th Club (1926)~ reinilliscing in I
\&Yeneed to recovcr the hisrorjr of the concept of ""popular crrle of cermin sorts of ture." We have tc1 understand d ~ ori&ns judgexnents about. poptxlar axlt-c~sc:as cjebased, as bast-ion of authendci~,or as irrelevant. 15%have to see poprdar culture in its fristclrically shi%x>grelation to dorrlinant cuitrzral forms, in order to avoid the tcmptatian to rlatlrrafize e;iiistiag social arlcf cuttural relations. Allow all, we must not tose sight of the fact that: poptxlar crrlnrrc matltrcrs: it has clearly mattered to those who have sought to cIassi$ it or tc1 control it. --&Torag Shiach, 1Jiscuur.se 011 12aj?at.llur(;"zrlf~~,-c j r 989)
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Introduction This book is essendally an extended essay about chntlging views of teisure and h e r i c a n preferences coi-rcerningits growing array of uses. tt also exa&nes perceptioi-rsof popular and mass culture in tile United cfifSates during the past cenmty 'Tl>opularna d u ~ ~ ahsa w ~ meant " fcrent things to diEerent people at ififferent times, hcrweveo; so quite understandably the terms have commonly tleen interchanged and confused, often because they have not been viewed carefully in histctrical coiltext, Such casual usage has been encouraged by aur eyuaitly loose and accasianafly frivolous invocaGox~sof highbrow, middlebrow, a11d t w b t - o those ~ ~ ~ all-tau-t'amiliar yet elastic categories of cultural taste that have sometimes been apptied with excessive (tncax-ringundcxnonstrable) precision, but at otl-rer times with reckless (meaning unreliable) caprice. Just ask ten educated hiends to differenriate bemeen popular and mass cuft-ure, I predict that you wilt receive ten Gairfy dbergent answers, and fcw of them will be historically informed,' Afthctngh the author of this project is a practicing hise~rian,we will not prcrceed decade by decade, or even gc-eneration by generation, wlriclr would ke meehallical and perlraps lethal, Change over time matters immensely, and it must receive due attention, (IIenee tlre Selec~ve C h r o i - r a t a ~of la~~dmarks in popular culture immediately following this t~ztroductiox~.) But the arga~~izational scheme that follows is &;Idamentaf ly topical within a flcxit~lechronological framework. M y ? First, because this is an i nqrriry concerning the pmbkrn of popular culture and its cc>lltestedmeailings rather tlran a comprehensive histoq of popular culture, And second, because I can develop my assertic~ns more ctearty and economicaify ti~rougha ti~ematicapproach rather than a strictly sequentiaf one. Atthough the book contains episodes, it: is not a narradve, Rather, it is meant to t9c an explanation ofr-rumerous narratives Or accawltS that readers may afrea* have eneonntere& many of them, because of their apg-rarentimplications, contradicatr?y: I eta, trctwever, rake up my topics with t1II's s a i d logic: they appear in the approximate arder af their historical salience, that is, when they
re~ectivelybegan to influence or affect h e r i c a n untlerstanding oP taste levels and their rote in mentieth-centuq leisure and desire. Chapter 2 , therefore, will be devoted ta the hesitaxirt, colzflicted search for a compelling rationale for leisure pursuits appropriate in a democratic culture with a very str013g work ethic, a radox-ralc that could achieve .nridesprea$ appeal without I9eing tainted by charges of coarseness or degradation-a quest most uisikjle during the early decades of the mentieth centrt7, but especially iis the 1920s. Ghapter 3 concerns commerciafizatim aiird cultural consu~nerism,aiir importra~ztptlenomeIzan from the t-urn af the century that has intensified apace ever since, That chaptem.c\-illalso cake note of the retationship t9emcen poptrialculture and national identitgr, a x-rems that invt~jvcdshiftil-rg attit-udes toward Old nTc]rldct~lruresas well as reconsideratiorns and appropriations from the American past, particularly during the years from around xgaa ti~roughN70rld N7ar X I , Chapter 4, seeks to locate and define pas-traditia~zd, comznercialixed ptrplttar ~ v t t u r eduring its most effenresccnt and prtrminent period, the late nineteenth and first hatf of the t-uventieth c c n m q with particular esnphasis upon its interactive and p a r t i c i t qualities and the culture of c e l e b r i ~that esnerged between the m o world wars. Chapter 5 explores the gradual l~lurringof traditiaxzal boundaries l~etweerztaste Ievels-the loss af meaning and the evenmat irrelevance ctf strictly defined ctlitural strata correlated in pecrplc's minds with class, educatiox-r, and degrees c~faffiue~-rce-mainly aker micJcet~tuv. Chapter A will look at two distinct barometers of ambivalence and contesation: tlre Cheat I2el-tate about mass cultrxre that donrinated the x y~os,and public aplnian palldrom the E 940s ti~roughthe 1970s concerning attitudes toward the uses of leisure aiird toward popular as well as mass cr;liture, 'T"hat chapter also exnphasixes the decline of cvtmrai allthclrir~rlespeciaily that held by critics, in the later mentieth centuv, and tlre increasing importmce of cultural power, usually sustaiised by We will corl1or"e capital rather tlran by valczrized critical autbrzri.;itr~. wit~zessthe rise aiird decline af respected cuft-ural expertise bemeen the x y zos and the 1980s. Chapter 7 looks at what 1perceive as the emergcllcc of ""ptrto-mass cdture" during the irttewar years, foliowed t9y the first problematic phase of r~verlaioand fuzziness in marks of difference between popular and mass culture, circa 1930-60, (C:hronolctgtcal distissctions made throughout tile boolc are only meant to be suggestive in order to clarify
the inevitabte messiness of strclr overlaps, 7'hey are plot i ~ ~ t e ~ l dtoe be tl a new gospel or precise gauge of historical measuremalt,) tn chapter X 1 describe and define mass cultare as we L~avelcxzown it in our awn time, "Ehe persistence of popular by which 1rnear-r since the 1960s and 70s. culture as a recogr-rizable reaim wili not he ignored, however, and areas c~fintersection or convergex-rccmust t9e ackx~c~wledgecf~ Clrapter g exarnirzes the curious and sornetisnes dif-iict~ltrelationship bemeen historians and poloular as well as mass culture, mainly since the 1y8os, and does so using two case studies: Ken Burs-rs's television doclurnentary The Ciuii War (1990) and the lkfuseum af A$odern An5 extremely conn-oversial exhjbition High & Lv;;L~: &Vodei"~~ Art il8~II Poprtlgr C~~lt&re ( 1 ~ ~ - ) v rFir-ratiy, ). chapter r o seeks to p ~ d these i various strands together by ciiscussing the cjngoing prevalence of ct~lrural alnt~igrritiesand contestation in recent years; by making brief cornpal.-isor-rs with trer-rds averseas; and 197 assessing same rather apocalyptic cfaims quite recently asserted about the cor-rditiar-raf hnerican culture at the close of the century; For severat decades starting in the sixties, x-rumerousschc~larson the left sought to redefine the interactive relationslrip bemeen high and popular culture, out of a desire to demonstrate the cultt~ralautonomy and widening influexzce of taste preferer-rcesarnaltg working-class peaple. Depictions of the lifesyles of ordinary folk went Eron? s-rcariy nonexistent or else tri.iiaiized to "subnitern," or at least quire separate in their origins and evotiltion, More d p ~ a m i cand ctsmplex theories, influenced by studies of European culture, stressed that ""so-called high ctrlture has been and will continue to be renewed from below>just as popular or even rnass cuft-ure derives much of its ex-rcrgies from above, The boundaries shift and dissolve, the categories harder1 and sof%ex-r.'?2 f am in frlfi agxement with that, att-hough &e "isrmer (impact from the buttorn up) is more difficult to demonstrate than the latter: It can be done, however-the iMoim exhibition High & LW being a case in paint, A large nurnber of art critics found fault-with it for myriad reasons, tjut the kriewing pul~lic,by and large, liked it and learned a great &a1 from it, Kirk Varnedoe, tire curator, ar-rticipateif controversy but held fast to his ctsil.victions and survived a firestorm. "The relationsirip of high art to mass culnrre," he dectaretl, "is sme of the great subjects crucial to what made moder11 art modern," "7"t-rinspiration for the sfrow had bee11an article by Adam C;oprink, a writer for The Me?;. &~-Keq
showing the influence of cartoons and cal-icntrtre on Iqcassot.; portrairs bewee11 1905 and 1912 . 3 '1'Ke critics\ultixnate complaint, Ezowevem; was that "the promised cirmity of exchange between art and popular culture is sfrown to go one way only: from IOW to 11jgIr.'" Although this objection was exaggcrat"d, perhaps hmectoe ar~dC;opni had cmrcompemat"d because fc~rs s lczng it has been much easier (or at least far more common) to krnonstrate patterns of "trickle down" rather than graviq-de+ing pulsatio~~s of ""fiter up." "'f'lze basic point, of course, is that the Bow l~etweenc u l ~ ~ rtaste a l levels is not usindirectional. Ratl~er,it is a process af interactiot~,and sometimes more tike the continr~ousactiot~of a circwjt. Be that 3s it may; I feel a certain envy for writers who describe 2nd explain ctrlmral phenomena at a particular taste level, whetl-rer it be h i g l ~ lcerebral, j~ avant-g~rdc,middlebrow, or mass Not that theirs is arir easy task, by ary xneaIls, but it is somewhat less coxnplicated, perhaps, than presenting a stcsy of 13emeakility; where categories casuatly interpenetrate ar-rcf conventional lines of stratification collapse into one another. 'f'tte history of cultural taste levels in the mentierh centuy l-ras increasilsgly been one of fluidiv, blending, and the atte~zdantt~lurringof boundaries, Because that is one of the cerztral propositions of this book, it warrants some advarirce ~zatieehere, particularty as a preview for chapter 5 betow. At the turn of the cenatry Georgc h m a n Kittredge, a prestigious Shakespearean scholar and folklorist at ICIarvard, observed that educated h e s c a n s jumped back and forth from the "karned" fire the ""popufa~;"a ssentime~-rt: ecl~oedl14r I: 1. L. ;Mencker-r a generado11later. In 1937 poet and p l a ~ r i g h tkchibald ~MacLeishmade a determined eflort to use radio as a bridge between high anif pop~llarculture, His play The pal! offhe civ (1 937 ) called upot~serious wri ters to recogrIi ze the cult~rralreach and possibilities of radio, T h e art of Thomas IIart Bellton egeccively and indissolubly integrated folk, high,and popular traditions, Car-rsequentty, an O m ~ ~ i b utelek$ision s program in 1953 explicitly presexzted Be~zton+paintings as a hsios-r of cuItural levels. h d h r more than a decatfe sarting in 1964, S u a n Sorlmg insisted that pemeptio~~ls of a gulf exisring between high ar-rct IOW art arcre iilusoy, 'f'he emergence of new metlia exernpItfieti ""not a conAict of cultures but the creation of 3 new kind of: sensibilit-y which is defiantly pluratiseic and dedicated 110th ta excmciadng serialxsr-ressand to h n , wit, and ~lastaigia."""
P .
1his book seeks to explain lrow that kind of cult~~raf, pluralism came about and to describe some of its implications as a bistc;lricalprocess, I will devote particular attentiarir ta the major sources olculmral authority3such as critics, and their increasingly corir8iceed relationstrip with such as corporate sponsors and major repositories of culmrat pc~~i\'it.r, media executives. T h e c.)~-rce delicate tralar-rce bemeen these two forces hns been marketlly altered in the past three decades?thereby rendering l-crmy of the generaf,izac.ionsin the best of our atlalyses reductive and misleading. IIere is arir emmple from a pioxleering study that l~efongs to the same genre of inquiry as the preserirt work: ""Vople pay much fess aftention to the rnccfia," wrote the sociolc~$st FSerbcrt J. Gans in r 97% '%arsd are much fess swayed by its content than the critics, who are highly sensitive to verbal and other symbc~licmaterials, believe. * I hey [ordinary per~ple]use the media for diversion and would nor think of appI$ng its ronterirt to their own liveseH7A wide range of ~zatio~ial opix-rian studies made in the 1970s (emmined in chapters 7 and 8 t>elc~vrr), however, fforcehltg cot-rtradictssuch assertions. Ai~tef+ican72irs"tlr~.wilt conUltimatel!~, 1 hc~pcthat Artre,-iic~z~C'l~Itrlre, vey to readers a sense of the swikly expanded meanings and perceptions of ""eulmre" in m e n t i t - c e n t h ~ e r i c a ,Back in 1914 the young NTglterLippmann, already a precocious pundit, oFFered a warking defixli~onthat seemed remarkably inclusive for the time: t-
Culture i s the x-ramc for what pec~pleare ix-rtcrested ix-r, their rhougks, their moitels, the bcmks they read a d rhe speeches rhey hear, their table-rdk, gossip, conwoversies, hisrrtrical sense and scierirtil-ic training, the values they appreciate, the cluality of life they admire, M l co uriities have a cult-ure, It is the cfirnate of their civitizatiion." Nfuch of the swift and moving drama of moder11Al~ericanculrural history can be found in the mj~iad.ways in which that description has perbrce become even Inore expansive in recerzt decades-and has geIzerated a disparate l~odyof writings from students in xnariry disciplines a d from I~eyondthe walls of academe as arcll, I have &awn quite heavily upon that literature: trorrowing and agreeing in some areas, skeptical and offering dternative exptanatictns elsewhere. I have relied a great deal upon public opinion palts concerning aspects of h e r i c a n culture, ~zotbecause the polls are so acmrate-indeed, they xnaririfest Izumerous co~ztradictiozzs-but: l~ecausethey supply such aburirdant etpi-
dence of variabte pubtic perceptions of h e s c a n culture and leisure, wlricb is the core subject of this essay. Atmost a cluarter of a centurq. ago tile British cufmral critic Raymond Willii~~ns reminded us that the word-cor-rcept ""cuft-ure" has undergone severat major si-riksin meaning over ti-rc past half a niiilenniurn, Its most common usitgc during the last centlrry-as an abstract noun referring m music, literat~ire,painting and sculpture, theater and film, and so forth-dates only from the later nineteentlr centuy and emerged in the wake of discussions prompted by hfatthew Arr-rold's C"zlkurenrzd Ajlzd~cky(I 867). Anold associated culture with authoriv. Doing so seemed inescapahic t-cl him because hc regarded culture as "'a priftciple of authorirq:, to ccJunttlract the tendency to anarchy" k%f?lliarnsadded, moreover, that the adjective "cultura19\eems to date fri-rtm the 1870s and only became common during the ~Sgos,h \Rlliams observed, '"he word is only akrailable, in its moder11 sense, when the indcpender-rt noun, in the artistic and iatellecelxal or anthropolct&at sex-rscs, has become familiar," He added that kostiliq to the word "~xltllre'~ appears to date from the contr-o-versy prr~vokedby Arnoldg views." In sum, Arneric~;lrCfdltwre,Anze~-icx~.it X z ~ is a written in response to an enorxnaus (and cor-rstantly growing) corpus of writing that has appeared in recer-rtyears about taste levels, cultural stratificatiion, and a process of ""ibrmatization'2itl the United States,'" 'rhe creators of that corpus, ncedcss to say, arc usualiy a d inhmmed and thoughttitl. Some of their work is outdated, lrr~wever,in part because it was alristorical to begin with-obfivious to colnplex changes wrought by tirne. Aspectmf their work suffer from being excessivefy prese~zt-minded, But in additior-r, swift and unexpected derrefopments during the past decade or so have made their conclusiox-rsnlinerable for reasons they could not readily have anricipated. Thc passage of tirne wilt undoubtedly wreak havoc with my own interprewdons, too, yet I indulge a Cfdlttire, conceit that the l-ristorical perspective informing Arne~icir~.it Americlan) Estes may slrppfy it with some staj~ingpower. Although it is palenvcal in places, it is not meant to be a tract for our ti~nes,Rather, it is ix-rtcx-rdedto serve simultanemzsiy as a wrapan~ur~d window and as a rearvlcw mirrc~r,as wcll as an ancillav side mirrof; to assist thme who need to neptiate tlre confusilsg culturaf traffic of our centtiry. Whenever an interviewer asked Duke Ellingti-r~nto caregmize a musical mode, or inquired about music and race, or about the skills ofzz
lnusiciail the Duke greatty admired, Ire liked to quote ""re words of the LMaestrol "Ibscanini, who said concerning singers, Zither you're a good musicia~iror you%-renot.91n terms of musiciantst-rip [for examptc], Ells Fitzgerald is 'Beyoiird Categuy.,' '""'Elfingtort's phrase is eit.gantlj7 hc.tpf;ll in reminding us that pigeonholes are highly conlining; t 9 u t our scope wilt not he exclmiveiy restricted to exccltencc, h e r i c a n s now spend more than a trillion dollars a year in their pursuit of leisure---far more than they spend on health care, or cars and trucks, or on lrousing.'? ~ X O W that level of expenditure gradually came about, arrd I-he d ; l v e ~ ~ rofp preji~*encesx~zdn~ifullest-h-katgccmgpanies it, warraiirts our a~ention.
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Czhades IVilison Peak creates a mtlsetlni of rr-Liscellaneaus atwactions in I%hiladelphia, Earliest America11 circuses begin to appear. 'The first America11 cclr1nt-y fair is organized in Pittsfietd, 34ass. First statc fair is Izetd at Syl-aaxse, hi.&'., featuring citoxnesric manuhc~rres.
I?."1: Bamum takes over and transfc~mmsthe Alnerican It?luseum in S e w k r k . Enjoys peak ffaxne in the 1850s. ,G1instrref shows with rrrban-based t-rorrpes begin to achieve great popldar success.
I?."1: Bamum t>ringssingerJes~ray1,ind kom Sweden for a national toirxr. Fisk Jrrbilee Singers make their pimeering t o x ~in concert settings in border states and the Nosh. hlontrgomely IVard iswtes the first mail-order camlogue. t>ecomes , the site of an asselnblp for Czhaumuqua Lake, hT.Y. aainim~gSrrnday school teachers, a progfijxn that gradrrally expaxls to include general eclucation aslrJ popular entertainment, such as cs>ncertr;, 'The Sadonal T,eahwe is created, the frtegi~sniligof modem professional basehall. hrxserican 1,eague created in rgoz. Barnuni asld others begis1 to matre h e i r circrxses by railroad. Slleet mrisic begills to be produced for home use. BuEalo Bill C:r>dy achieves popular success with his 'TC4likIIVcst Sliors; first opened in C7)maha in 1883, 'E \V, \4roolwort.Et creates the first 5-and-xo-ccnt store. By x yoo there will be fifv-nine such stores,
E. E Mbee aslrJ U, E Kcith reduce the cost of admission to h e i r va~rde~ille show to xoccnts, the start of a price revolxxrian in entertainment.
'Thornas Edison il-ttrentsa g~honographtxsi~tgcyiindrical wax rccords. 'I"he Eastman Cct~r~pany introduces the Kodak, a simple box carnera containing a xoo-cxposure roll of film: the beginning of rnoderrs amateur photography. 14ror1ci5CC:oXumhianExposition helci in C:kicago$ \&[hitreC:ity, 'I"he Sears catalogue hegigss to appear as a semi-a~~nrsal. First: aniuseinent park opens a t Grjney Island, BrooMyn. r3dvcrlising intensifies in IOW-costmagazldnes Iike ~'CIz/rz.~t:yk~ which displayed 300 itetns per issue by r 895. Reveslue firm ads will tleco~r~e rrlore ilr~portantthan srsbsa-iptions, The first cr3inic cartrlctn, "?'he Yellow Kid,'%ppears inJoseph Er-k F?;or-/d$and is stote~rin 189613~7i4fiItiam Pulitzer's Randolph Hearst for his paper, theJozrif-rirn/. 'I"hornas Edison de\reXog~skinetoscclpe camera that can grc3jject picmres on a screen. L)ublisatioxl of tl be Wondc@i:lWiznrd i$'r)z by I,. Frarlk Barrm. hTationalsyndicadon of comic strips begins when Lliearst:sells the right ta reprodr~cehis strips to o&er newspapers,
7i"Je Cr'ru~t7i~zi)a~ Rol?!~e?y is one of the first:corx~rrserciaflysuccessful story films. The first box of Ckayoia crayons is produced: eight cr3lors far 5 cents, First frtaseijafl l\&)rldSeries (Boston defeats 12ittr;burgh). i)cnny arcades begin to appear: Rise of the nicla-clodeon tra poptxlaricy.
X1"ei&iId:r F o / h enjoys great apped and er r~ufation. PbutopIefy appears, the first rnctvie fan rnagazirre. The genesis of cetebrift. crrfrtrrc. ,b&ur IVynne creates the first: crc>sstvordpwzzle. It appears it1 XII-k mrfd 01s Srinda.~i, I2ec. 2 I . the 'Fhe first aanscctnlinental telepl-toneIine is con~~~letecf.
ASCAP (A~l~erican Socieq of Cctmposers, Authors and Xztzhlisl-ters) fotxndeci. It esljoys a monopoly on fees for &\reny-five years.
R i f ~ ohf'a ATrrtio~z,D. M? Gri%th$ innovati- and influe~~tialarlcf strbseqrrently cantroversiat-fil111~ appears, "Highbrow and I,ourbrow" ptxblished by Van \Vyek Brooks in his America (,aome,r @ge.
johnstan ,G1cC,ulIey$ serialized novel 'I3e Ctt.rse sfCapi.r~-afzo introduces the character Zorro, who later serves as the protoypc for Srrpcrxnan, Batman, and other heroes with attcr egos. jack 136txnpsey wins the h c a v c i g h r charnpianship from Jcss z ant3 loses the rematch Mriflard, toses it to Gene 'knney in ~ c ) 6, ta "firnncyin x y 2 7 in the conaoversial ""long (3ount75in Czhicago. Ilempsey becorxies the first fighter to draw a $I miltion p t e . 14rax recordings are int.l.odrrced.
'The first tafrtlititt newspal3ers are ~3rit~lishedl in S e w York City Radio as a ptxblic e n t e ~ r i s ebegins in 13t~burgb.
"IZ7~fe m a p zlrre is started by Z3enry Lrsce arlcil Brit X ladden, Book-af-the-ililE~nt:hC~II:,is created. Dempsey loses to 'hnncy in Pliiladelphia on Sept. 2 3. CharIie Czhaplin, LMJoison,and IVilliam Randolph Ilearst are a t ringside in a huge ci-ourd. Eight lztrndrcd earrespandents cfevolrc mro million words to h e match, The age of the ms3del-n newspaper sports department:has begun.
KBC and C&Semerge as nahonat nemrork; large ntrxnbcrs of local affiliates by rg35. 7i"JeJ~zzz Sizzger with Af Jotson becr3mes h e first widely distrihrited film with sori~zd. Chartes 1,indbergh makes the first sofo fligl~t:across the r4dantic. The Amos
'E' And31radio
con~edyseries makes its debut.
"A4ickq h1ouse7%nrJ"'UlonrJie" becorxie syndicated cr3mic strips.
'The CrossSey systetn far rating the size of radio prograIr1 aridienccs is established, followed in I 935 by the Il looper sysf-em. ,G1ipel C,ovarnjl,ias"sca~caturcs, ""impossible lnten4ews9" appear in fin@ Fni~s:
Wait Dis~ley"slm 7Xe 7ilrt-eeL,irrle. Pigs creates a sensadon. First frtaseijafl All-Smr garrle, won hy the American I,eagtze, Colo~~iai !\~?lliarrlsbut-g opens to the ptiblic. Xilqo?- Bwe.r'Am~~ztc.ur. Iltlvr t>ecor~lcs the niost popular radio program, arlcil is fntacfi imitated,
George Gallup est-;ltllishesthe Arrlerican Xnsdmte of Ritllic Clpirrian, the beginning of poling, jcsse Clwcns wins four gold xnedals at the Berlin Cllyxnpic roadeaston Oct. 30, "War of the !\~c~rtds,""crates a nationvvjde scare. Benny ekate aver the evils of mass ct:lxlturc that occurred prirnarity during the mid- and later 1950s. In these ix-rstanccs, it is freqrrentty unclear whether the autlror is directly at fault or simply repeadng the ~nrrddtedusage of p~"'ic"essors, Either way? lrr>\vever,the reader who r~eedsdefinitional clarity gets fuzziness instead.' Vet another cause for conhsian occurs when a writer cf'rooses to ifis~xsspopular cdture within the framework of something casu'ally tabelcd {'mass societ_t.'"n which "'mass communication" has h e p n tcl occur, Mass ssciey is a des~ograplricpl-rencsmernon(dramadc populatit111 growth) once commonly associated with vrrlnerabilicl\r to clrarismatic demagopes capal~leof svaq"ig the masses toward either sociatisxn or fiascism, pxtieularty during the second qu'arter of the menticth ccs-rt-ury; ~Vlasscornmtlnication involves a technological transklrtnation once identified with universal access to newspapers, ~nagazines,radio, and nlevision, but now snore fi-equently idenrified with satellites, computers, and the Internet. &fass sociey may very well serve as a host or context for mass cuft-ure; bttt i'ristoriically~the former arztedated the tatter in ordinary usage, whereas the latter seems to have outlived the former in cornmos-r parlance, Mass communication certainly kciiitates the dissemination of mass culture; and troth are undesliably dependent u p ~ ~ the n uenr-uresomeness of innovative enmepreneurs, Yet to intermingle the two only eonhses the vehicle with the t i o l u ~ ~ n oload w it is supposed to distribute, T h e one has wheefs, wires, and wavelengths. "E'heother has comic books, cartoons, sitcoms, and viideocasset-tcs." A few writers have bt~tkeredto differentiate thctughtfillt~i;but they have not done sn systematicafb or in depth. Atmost four decades ago Oscar Elandlin remarked that mass c u l t - wlriclr he meant culture disseminated througi-r the xnass media-had a ""disturbing" effect up011 both popular and refined cultures, each of which predatemass cuttvrre, H e wiscfy noted a common misconception that the mass culture of 1960 was merely an extension of popular cultures of the past.' Richard Slotki~s,wlrose discipline is Alnerican Smdies and whose
specialty has long been tl-rc role of dominant myths in tl-rc United Sates, acknt~wtedgcsthe need for discrimination, '"'l"he procfuctions of the cultural industGes are indeed varied and ubiqdtous," lre writes, from tile Izewspapers and Inass ex-rtertainxnent to the textitaolcs that teach our clrildren tile authorized versioxzs of herica1-r history and litcramre-but the authoriclp af thcsc "mtns ctdmre" pmductions has been and is offset t9y tile influence of other forms of ct~lrureand expression that are genrrinely 6'~~c>~3t~li~r'5: produced by and for specific cultural cornlnunities like the etlrnic group, the Earnily-clan, a town, neigl-rborhood,or region, the worick>lace, or the street corner=hlthough few of these subcufmral ex-rtiticsare now isolated from thc influence of mass media, they are still, cagakte of generating their own myt1-r~and their own u~tiqueways of interpretii~gthe productions of the rrredia."
t listorian jaclcsoxz Lears adamantly rehses to mix the two, and does so for a reason sexxsitoly separate from Slotkikin%yet altogether congruent with it: g i o ~camat ~e aker all maintain a coherent or sopl-risticatcd notitm of class and still equate mass culture wish "poplar culture.' "l he disposirios~to co~lfuseor conflate tlre two phenomena is due, at least i i ~part, to disciplinary alegiailces and ideological commitmen&. Because, for example, the phrase ""mass cuft-ure" is commonty perceikred as carrq.ing pejorative co~motatior-rs,manjr af tllose who really enjoy it and write positively about it prefer to use the term ""popular ct:lx.fture,"almost as a syi-ro~-rym, when they actually do meax-r mass cutmre: record-breaking attelldance for films anci television slr~ws, compact discs that self in tlre millions, apparel like jeans and sneakers, Gast-food chains, standardized products sold at N7al-~kfartand h a r t , axzd so forth."'f'he use aF euphemism in this context has increased in recent years, but it certaixsty is not new. More than a gex-rerationago an astute young d t r r r a l critic, Robert W'arsl-rc~w,caswally used 'bpopdm" anci ""mass" islterchangeal~lj~, l~ucalso referred with almost clinicai care to a transformation given explicit recognitim following mTctt.ldWar It. """l'hcmass culture of the educated classes," he obsewed, "the culture af tire "middle-brc>w,?as it has sometimes been called-had come into existcx-rce,"'l A British culttlrat critic has called attex-rtion to a similar paradox in the realm of film reviews. It is nest unusual for writers to praise intelleeP .
tuatly unpretex-rtiuus popular mo~viesfor reasons that are not merely u~~reiated to their "parent appeal but even seem inimicai to it, According to C. ?%C E. Bigsby, 'Top~tlarcuIt~rre,then, can apparently be transformed into "highhart by a simple critical act of alog-rropriation, tizdeed so insecure are these categories that the popular culture of one generadoll can become the L-rigti culture of the next aird vice txma-a Fact which applies not only to il~dividualartists but to genres (tl~eatre, ncwei, film), SU~>E;CIITCS(farce, sciencc: fictdon, detective fiction) and styles (rc)manticism7realism)."""' =tTeedlessto say, popular culture nor only existed but thrived for centuries prior to the period from 1885 to 1935 that 'Ishall Ezigfrfight. I draw a marked diseinctio~lbetweerr what British scholars refer to as "'ct-aditionztl'\peputar culture (flourishing in the sixteenth t-cl t~inetee~lthcenturies) and the consjderakty more commcrciaXized and technologically transfc>rmedpopular culture that emerged at the close oF the nineteen& centuy and tl-ren blossomed exuberantly early in the meiltieth. 'liadirianal popufar culture has atso been called pretechnological aird preindustrial, A fine example from tile Ul-rited States is the &me museum, which flourished during the nineteenth cerltuay but ifisappexed aher rgoo I~ecauseof the emergence of nicketodecrns, film, and rnechanizecl amctselnent ~o2rks." When we mrrl to folk ctrlmre and contemplate its advc~catesover a L~istaricalspair of, say3sevenlry years, notable changes aird even more diversity become appareirt. Back in the 1930s Coxzstance Rourlce made an ardent yet isolateif case fbr folk ~ d t u r eas the very essence, not merely of popular culture, t9ut c~fnational identit-y-in the Ux-rited States. Despite tlre plaudits her work received, lrer particular elnphasis did not gain many adherents for more than a generation." In recent years we L-rave professiorzal students of folk culture deeply concerircd to maintain a clear distance l>emeerr L-randwrougirt folk traditions that tf3e-y chefisll arrd a Itlass consumer C U I C I J ~ ~&at they dislike," And we have historians of pclputar culture who pcrccive its roots deeply embedded in folk culture, who find agency rather than victimization in popular culture because they do not believe that consumers are helpless in the hands of producers and eirtreprei~eurs.'~
By x-row the no~~spccialist reader may very wet1 feel avewltetmed by a surfeit of citations and contradicto;lv points of view. If suclr browsers
are still bearix-rgwith me, they surely rntlst sense that the study of popular cutmre is clearly tl-rri.iingin it~stinltionsof higher learning. Schoiars Inay slcst be a11 of one mind, Fzut they cerminly are sissgle-minded if not do\vnriglrt feisty in their pursuit of popular culture. Ijaradoically, L-rowever,that is not the impression that one gets from casual browsing, particularly in the press or even among the cognaseenti. ta x 9-74.t lerbert Gans declared that "'piputar ~vlltrtireis not smdied much these days either by social scientists or hurnax-rists. . . ." Twenty years Iatcr the retiring Secreray (direct09 of the Smitl~soniai~ Instirution threw his lrands lip in despair at rising interest in popular and mass ctrlmre dispfays at the Natior-rat lkfuseum of h e r i c a n 1E fistory "How the hell do p u &"fie pop culture ai-ryay?" ire dcxraanded." Much of &is book will be devoted to anmering that questio1-r from various angles of vision, Ifere at the start it seems prrrder~tto begin with an even more basic question on wbiclr there is no consensus r e ~ e c t i n ginetusiveness: What is culture? If we took at two famous respolrses to that query (offered well after 'Waiter Lippznann's) which on point of deparmre, we will gain from the second one a definition of pop~darcttltllre by r~egativereference: culture is ctrciiit~ary rather ti-rm rarefied, a marter of quotidian meanings rather than the gleanings of formal etlucatiotl, Both definitiotls still have their devotees today, tlrougl~the balance of opinion lras surely slri&ed from 1 ' : S. E:liot"slicist v i e w to fiaj~tnoi-rdWifliamsk m m p~,loutistview. Let's begin with Efiot in 1948:
By "Lcnitrrre," then, 1 mean first of alt what anthropologists mean: the way of life of parecular people living together in one place. "T"hat culture is made visible in tlreir arts, in their soda1 system, in their habits and customs, in their religion. But these things added together do not constimte the cuftrure, though we often speak for ctsnvenicnce as if they did. 'I'hese things are simply the p r t s into which a ctliture can be anatomised, as a human body a n , But just as a man is sometlring more that1 an assemblage of rhe various consriment parts olhis body, sstt a cultwe is more than the assembfage of its arts, custoxns and religious t~efiefs.'lTkeset h i n p ail act upon each other, and fully to under~ ~ to u ~ ~ d e r s t a2111.~ ~NOW d there are (of course stand one y t have higher cultures and Icowcr cultures, and the higher ~vtltrtiresin general are disting~~ished by differentiation of function, so that
you can speak of the less cuft-ured and the more cuft-ured strata of societjr, and Anafly, you can speak of indi~riduaitsas being exeptionallp mlcrired, The cdture of an artist or a philosopher is distinct from that of a mine worker or field tabt~tzrer;the cutture of a poet will be ssmewlrat different from that of a politician; but in a healthy sociev these are all parts of the same culture; and the artist, the poet, the pl~ilosopher,tile pofkician and she labourer wilt l~avea cuft-ure in comznon, which they do not share with other pecrple of the same occupations in other countrjcs.'" h b o r r g h Eliot acknowledges the existencl: of mine workers and field tat~orers,he assumes that in same ~nysteriausway they will share the ~zatio~zal cultural identiy of those with more education and xnoney 2nd higher social status than thexnsclves, FSOW they choose to use their teisure and what distinctive pleasures they may enjoy are beyond his realm of concern," Twenty years later, in I 968, Raymond Wiliams did not repiltdiate Eliot so ~ n u c has find his de5nitioi-r incomplete: P .
In talking af a common ~ d t u r e then, , oi-re was saying first of a peoplc, as well as the viral
&at culture was the way of life
and indispensabic contl-zbuGons of specially giked and identifielement the g idea of the corn~~~ol;l able persons, and one was u s i ~ ~ of the cuIture-its community-as a way of criticizing that divided and frawented cuft-ure we aemaitly have, If it is at all tme that the creation of meanings is an acdvit-y. which engages all men, then one is bc~untfto ire shc~ckedby all); s o d e v which, in its most explicit culture, either suppresses tlre meanings and values of whale groups, or which fails to extend to these groups the possibility of articulating and communicating those xnea~~ings. At the close of that extract, writing just ~ J I C J I the study of popular culture begail to require recognirirtn if 11cst outright legitimacy in acadieme, kfilliams antidy~atedthe inelusivencss that would occur in * For an unusrxat indication of Eliot's enthusiasm for. popular culture, see his essay "?liItaric L,lrrqid" i11 ,Telct-ted &l~stison.~' 1here is a strikissg contrast between their upbeat perceprion of mass culture and that of CIernent C:reer-rberg in 1939 and Dwight 1\facdor-rald9stwo decades later (I-juildingupon C2reenbergv. I: Ialt and M a n n e i highlighted t e h n o t o ~and the hrmutaic element-mass prr~ductionmoving ahead in a marlner jndcpencjei~tof older models or art fc~rms.7 b its advocates, mass culture was caloable of innovation or T
t
even ~~~rvelty. It could produce repetition t9ut not uniqueness; yet the prcrduction of repetitio~~ was altogeti~erapprrrpriate if one subscribed to egalitarian values,""" h importmt reason why CSfreenberg and Llilacdc>~~ald so despised mass culture derived from their belief that it imiwted and therel~y degraded high cuft-ure-a pattern of reasoning that made less and less sense with the passage of time as polts tlemor~strated&at ctrciiit~ary Amerians /lad fittle jnkrc?;~ in high cdturc., never mind its send-ups. But as Greenlrerg wrote in one of lris most celebrated essays: """T'he precondition for kitsch . . . is tl-re availability close at hand of a fully mamred culmral traditioxt, whose discoveries, acquisitior-rs, and perfected self-cor-rsciousr-ress kitsch c a n tale ardvar-rtage of for its own ends," &lacdonaid put it even more sirnpt-~"; atbeit rnorc pemcrsetg: "Masscvlt is a parody of High Culture.""' I shall have muclr more to say alrc>utmass culture in chapter 8cri-lcical,albeit nest for the reasolls that prompted CSfreenberg and &lacdoi-rald to be. ta closing this introductov chapter, howevem; 1want to alert the reader ta several other centrat themes of the book First, 1 regard the haif centuv from 1885 to 1935 as the heydq of commercialized popular arlt~lrein the United Spates, from BuRato Riil's Wild %%TestShow to the demise ofirurlesqne and vaudeviIle, with a great deal Inme ululating in beweetn. Second, t see a crucial and vital period of overlap invotving what 1 L-rave called prota-mass culture and the prime of popular culture, an averlap that 1 date f n ~ m apprcrsirnately 1930 to rg65 The word 4bovertap" (rather &an "transition") is deliberately ciloxn because there was, untletliabty, a great deal. of simulmneitry. I-low does a l e csngc)rize a Norman Rockwell illustration on the cover of the lS~ztwdnyEve~zh?g Pos~when its circulation edged dose to three ~nif1io1-r-popular cufhzre or xnass"z'lTkear-rswermust be both, of course, because Kochetl"sllustratior-rsarc, in their UM;II mrious way9beyor~dciitegoryry5' "Whythen do I reject the word 'ktransitim'?? Becatrse pupuiar culture did nest die and is not ready for interment. It: remains very rnuch with us, albeit more easily oljsewed in smaller towns than it1 large cities, in rural America more than urban or suburban, yet ubiquitous ~to~ze&eless in revivals as well as in some new 'ITVshows and radio programs, for example. hjoreover, t9ecausc of technologicat changes, popular cxiturc always has been and remair-rs more ephemerat and evanescent than mass c u l t ~ ~ rAlthough e, &lae LVest".iisl-inctive humnr
mn~iveson fiim fri~rnthe 1930s and '+S, for example, her many years in vaudevi1lc and n i g h t d d s can never be recaptured or repmduccd. What then of the a-iteria that 1 use for diE%eretlriatingbetween popular and mass cult~sre?"I'he somewlrat less important criteria i~svolve matters of scale-such as ti~ausandsaf peopfe at an amusement park as appax"do maIly tens of millio~~s worldTNide watchia~gthe Super Bowl in Janrrary, for example-ar~d increasing depender-rce rrpo1-r technotogies of visual access, ei~tertainment,and inhmmation rather than avenues of personal access, sellri~sstructionor amusement, and kncs\vledge for its own sake rather tlran practical utility. "10 ' make the abstract more concrete (itbeit reductive), it's the difirence bemeen games of skill. at the state Eair and video garnes, a r betweer-r ""soping" d ~ boarde walk at Coney XsIal-rd or Atlantic City and sufrrng the Weit at 130rne*j2 bC"hicb leaifs to the d i s t i ~ ~ e t that i ~ n matters most. I regard popdar cutmre---not [zlwi~ys br,t mnr-e +er$ ~hrnlant-as participatory and interactive, wl-rereasmass culture (until the 19805, when computers caused sigrrificar~tcl-rangesthat lrave yet to Ite fully charted)," m m o$e~ rhnrz rzot induced passiviry and the priivatizatiar-r of culture, In writing about l? T. Rarnum and his puMtic in the nineteenth centuv, Neil FTarris ifescrjt9cd a degree of responsiveness on the part of patrons who &lighted in disenmngling issues of vnlidicy 2nd deception, IIence the participatory aspect of popular culture, In I 870 the famous landscape architect Frederick Law t)lmsted described two capacides or qu'aliees latent in all peop le: the "exerti~re"and the "receptive," t arn persuaded that pc~puiar~ d t u r calts e fort11 the exertive while mass ~vlltrtirecan rely far more upon the re~eptive.'~ Being "exertive" or participatorq. may occur either in the makjng orin tlre consuming of a product or 3 pleasure. (A quilting bee provides 3 goad example,) Ilow people used or responded to what was offered them rnatters a great deal. It ance was coxnmon for kids to create their awn toys, combining vivid imaginations wit11 miscetlanec>usmaterials at l~and.T l ~panerr1 t is much less tme today; not absolutety, ctf course, but significantly so, hTovv7tlrey are more likely to want particular manufactured items seen on 737 or at tlre mall, Particularit-y.means autlrernticity: just like Jotlnny"srJudy$+ 'l"be culmral historia~~ f l a n 'lhachterlberg has made a useful distinction t9cmeen experience and ix-rhrmation,Neccfless to say, they are not mt~ctialiyexclusive--re act upon ix-rformation, and x-rew know1edge lnay prompt us to seek experienceii Nonetheless, wllcn popular cul-
Corni~zgto Er~tzrwith Drfini~qErmr
mre was in its prime, h e r i c a 1 - r ~seemed ta sexrch for experience, wl-rereasin recent ifecades they have had cause to privilege information at9ove experience, a parallel in symmetrfr with the relatjve shift that 1 perceive from participatoy to more pamiveS5(" At the close of the I 87os,tlre major cultural tension that seemed to attract the attentiar-r of journalists, preachers, ancl social critics got subsumed ui-rder the polarized rubric " V ~ i I p r i qand f;entiiiy,?' which t9ecarnc the mtlject of a major editorial in the i%TmVork 7?vtesSRc~narkat9fy egalitarian in tone, the essay sox~ghtto minimize any ix-revitable connection between class and taste, between social status and brow levels---a sure sign that tllis very issue had become vexing in Lktorian hnerica. 'T"here are people who are coarse and vulgar, and there are others who are refined and gentle; t9ut they cannot be distinguislred from each other by ally garb or circumstance apart from character, It is true that a certain leisure, with opporturniy for the cufti\ratioxl of taste and for the pursuit of social satisfaceions,
favcors a life that may be caltecf gex-rtle, and that hard work and rough competition tend to coarsen the Inal-rrrers and tab the patrician tone fri-rtmthe speeclr. Yet it will not do to say that they who get their own living are the vlrlgal; atld that they who do not: work at all, or who work only for pleasure or for honor, are &e only gendefoIks,'"
A ccs-rt-urylater that widely noticcd dualism had been supplanted by a very dif-ferent one: "hTarcissism and iJitrruism," ""fe social critic and historian Cbristopher Lasclr caused quite a stir in 1978-79 with his a work that prompted Presprovocative book TIECztlttare ofNnrcz"s~~inn~ ident Jirn~nyCairter to invite Lasch to tile White I: Touse. Lasch derided wrorzgheadcd critics of rzarcissism fbr their naivet6 in FaXIing to make connections bem-een the naircissistic personatiy type and certain clraracterisec patterlls of contemporav culture, such as the intense fear af old age and death, altered ser-rse af time, fascinadar-r with celebrity9fear of cornpetition, decline af the pia).. spirit, deteriorating relations between men and women. For these critics, narcissism remains at its loosest a syl-ronym h r selfishness a d at its most precise a metapho~;and norhing more, that describes the state of mind in which the world appears as a mirror uF the seif." 'rhe proklexn af passivit-y.and privatization in a x-rew p i s c with new manifestations! Within the span of a cenrriv a dorninal-rt l i f e s ~ i e arnong Americans bad come full circle, but with a troublesome m-ist. 13et>plei-iad shiked. ficzrn a culture of dornesticitry centered on hearth and frome to a culture of entertainment in pubflc places, made possible in wondrous waj~sby urban electrii6catiar-r at the close af the nineteenth cetztuv. By 1910-zo""going out" meant more than the ~xstomarJP fare of popular culture: the cirtxs and the carnivilf, the minstrel show and the ?%?let West show9Barnurn and burlesque. It meant illumilsated arnusernellt park9 and trolley parks, nickelodeons and movie L-rouses,vaudeville and musical relriews, dance halls and cabarets,.Stepping out made papufar culture lively, and vice versa, during the first half of the mtzciedr C W - ~ C U ~ . " 'rhen came television and mburkia, almost simultanemzsiy; and within a qmrter of a centuy a remarkaMe shift back to privatized
teisurc accurred with astoi-rishix-rgspeed. 11% 195I a Caltup pcrit asked: "Mi& C 1 0 you enjoy most-radio, television or the mwiesl'TRadicl got 50%, ' I T 2 4 X I at1d nov vies 2 1 % . Late in a Ropeqpc,lt of 2,m7 lclnericans pursued a more comptex but i n e i p ~ i n g issue: l3eopfc L-rave been tralking recer-rtly about the 6 ~ c that t they are chnging some of their living hakits. I"d like to ask you about &is list of things .c\-hi&you are doing 1xol-e than you were a p a r ago and which you are doing less than a year ago.""
t lcre are some of the respoi-rses to what people were doing m0r.e than they used to, ('l"he aiirswers tataf more than loo% owing to multiple respcm"""") Spending rime at home tching tclevisic>n Reading books Entertaining friends in p u r L-rome Goil-rgout to places of ~mutllicex-rtcreainment
54% 42
34 22
rb
In terms of public places and privarc: spaces, it almost seemed as t h u g b tile clock hail been turned back one hzrntlred years. But not quite, We had acf-rievedan interesting mix of mass aiird popular cuXmre; but above all, a partid retreat frarn the pubflc sector ta the haven of home and even specific spaces within the home. 'l'he privatizatifln of teisure, h retro prcrcess thatl ali in all, seems to have transcended customary patterns of categc)rizatit~n,"' I cerminiy do nor believe that television is cxclosively a passive experier-rce,nor do t deny that it cart have participato~and interactive cozzsequexzces, 'Ekfevisioxt gave a genuine lift to the civil rights movement, 1963-65, and to opposition against the war in \?etr~axn, 1968-73. Some people stilt watch television together, and they may very well disct~sswhat they watch, But if the program is really irnportarlt (such as a nominadng convendrtn or a State of the tinic-,naddress), the audiexice at home is most XilceXy to watch people discuss what they have just scexz and L-reard. It seems clear that we can ix-rvc~kea histc~ricalo r t h o c f t ~that ~ still persisted less than i-riatfa cenmry ago, so ictr-rgas wc acknc~wledgethat it never went entirely unclrallenged. T h e template for that orthodoxy
touked something like this: High cdturc is expected to cor-rnect: humilnkirul t-o its h e s t past acilievements, whereas popular ctdtrtrc provides more eplwmeral access to amusement and experience across class lines in the here and now Eligh culture is meant to create as well as preserve. P o p f a r and mass cuft-ure function in Inore transitory ways within a car-rtemporary time frame, 'f'hcit- principal oi~jecti~re is not: enduring excellence but pleasure and commercial appeal. How those orthodoxies rrndemcnt modificatior-rsand transformations will concenl us in the chapters ahead.
A madcap episode that occtxrred 011 the edge oFNcw %>rk'sGree~~wich \'illage in C)ctijber 1963 Garl serve as an allegory of the ongoing tensions arising ii-orn the practice of cultural poputism in the LIniteil States, "I'hree agenrs of the Internal Revenrre Service tried to close down a second-Boor loft that served as home to the Living 'f'lzeatre, an a.rraxzt-garde drama companjr run by Jllliail Beck and his wife, Judiith Maiina. Over its sevo-rtcen years of existence, tile cornpally had achicved jnternationaf renown for staging contrc~versial, popuiist plays. But the company also happened to be flat broke, belrind in its rent, and $2 8,000 in arrears on federal tax payments+onsiderabty less than the interest paylnent deductions claimed by xnary wealthy hnericans. Be that as it xna)2; Beck and lkfalina recnxited friends and falls to stage a sit-in desiped to frustrate tile IKS5 intenticms. WPflat then ensued T M O S ~cI~)seIyresembled an early fitm farcc featuring the Keysrclne Kops, A banner strung from tlre Living eI'heatre's office wintlo\v (at the same .rrenue) cf-rarged: "U.S. government stops art!" Reporters and television crews arrived on the scetle to cover the story. Food and supplies were ""ariiked" up from the street in a wastebasket Ic~wcredfrom the windows. T h e next dab Beck and Matiaa decided to stage a find performance of T%eBp-ig by Kenneth ?%C Brown, asslrlnitlg aker a series af telephone catls that rippled out like a chain letter that: their audlerzce could be admitted t11raugh two urisealed firedoors. 'l'he revenue agents responded by pulling a fuse anif plunging the theater into
darkness, When the T V creas raised a fierce prcrtest, the IRS relented and restored the lights, Mearwl-rile,an arrifience managed to asscml~le by clirnbing ladders and aossing over the roofr-op of an adjacent tmilding. "I"heplay went on, but by I : ~ Oa.m. some performers and atrendees who rehsed to leave were arrested. 'l"ke Living "E'heatre was then cf oseci." End af the saga"rOFco~;rrscnot. Within days a real eseate operator a d tileater owner l-rad offered Bcck and Malina the use free of chargc of another, better tlrearer, k%f?tlri~r a few weeks tlre Living 7"heatre had reorganized, rising like a phoetlix from the ashes. 7%e Brig was back anstage, All the prisoners had been released witkn twenfy-four hours af the dor-nlybrook at Sixth Avenue and 14th Street, Beck: and hfalina atone stood trial, arrd not b r tax evasion but rather for impeding federal officers in the excrcise of their duty! "fhe whale episode represented a perlraps ilrevitable claslr between governmental aurhori.;itr~ and cultural forces so radically democradzed that they ref'used to recognize that authoriy* Yet however bizarre the story may sound, it bad a~ztecedcntsin the cabarets and speakeasies of the I)rohitoitio~zyears, rg-xgto rg33.
"E'he coxnpfex relatiionsfrip betweer-r popular culture and a progressikre a r democratic ethas seems to have foilowed a distinctive path in the Unitcd States, in part because democradc values enjc~yedsuch rhetcrrical pnrminencc fri~rnthe 1830s onward and in part because a sociey at least formally committed to such values ogered unusual opportunities for elltreprenews eager to malrimize the potential of br-oad market appormiincies. Walt N'hit~nan's assertion that 'h have great poets, there must be great audier-rces, too" i s ambiguous for interesting reaPerhaps. Qrrtalsons. What cfid he mean by the second "'great"? L~,argc? itativcfy great, remal-kabiy discenringi Possiblj~.Ihpcrty appreciatiw? Very like15 t h u g h without excltldinff the first two possibilities. In my case, mThitman surely understood that cultural excellcnce would be dcfi~zedin Izew and differer-rtways in a democtraicy, yet his response to the qualitative character of taste levels in &cl-nineteenth-cerztury America clearly must have been more complcx than we might casrralty assume, I farking back almost half a cenruls; to lris cultural entlllrsiasms as a young rnan in the 18qss,k%f"hitmanf; fascinating recollection itncludes a
dear sense of stratification d e s ~ ~ iour t e recent emphasis upon an accessil.tle, shared publjc ~ v t t u r ein the antebelturn ycars, '"l spent much of l-crytime in the theatres then," he rel-crarked, "going everywhere, seeing everything, high, low, middling--absorbin theatres at every l,ore."' t Te expXidtly recalled a degree of ~egmer-rtatiar-r that we do rirot customarily associate with nucl-nineteerzth-cenmry hnerica. f 3is most recent biographer emphasizes the esistcrlcc at that time of a "'piirrticipato~ cuttvrre" that dcep(y influenced t'v'hit~~an, who wanted his verse to dissolve the boundaries bemeen taste levels, ""Itlink of art as sornethirsg to serve the peopfe,'Vre wrote, "tlre mass: when it fails to do that it's Gdse to its promises.'?' 'l"kat is exactly the attimde that we associate with Nrhitxnan, of toy course?and in his later p a r s he railed against the grrr~ringt e j ~ d e n ~ telescope the concept of culture into high culture, a resporlse erltirdy consistent with our sense of incr-easimg hierarchy during the last three decades of the nineteentlr centuy, Referring to ""re enemy, this word Culmre," Whitman advocated " ~ r a g r a m m eof culture, drawn out, not for a single class alone, or for the parfors or lecture rooms. . . ."' As mmy have noted, h o ~ ~ e v e\/\i:hit~~an r, never achieved the large, appreciative alritiencc among the masses that he yearned fbr and, at times, eagerly expected. ?'he adoring admirers of his poetry came largely horn the more educated strata and fror-n those wham we regard in retrospect as avant-garde. It is entirely possible, therefore, that b a i r n a n 8 m e m o v and ser-rsibilir-yplayed tricks on hi111 in his declining p a r s , and that hc projected back to the 1840s and '50s a degree of stratification in taste that did not really emerge llrltil the 18705, W know9for example, that art union competitirtns and exlribitions during the r 830s and I 840s were open to talent and well aeentled by a cross section of the popufation. Nre have also learx-rcd that: oil painting-s wefl as prints enjoyed braad appeal because of a ""dmocratic drive to t w e r the barriers Of high culnrrc.." Art ieapes, exhibitions, and galteries emphasized nationatistic pictums to hightight a sense of cohesive identic~rthat rrazrscended class lines,' r. To tlre extellt that a shared public culture existed in h e r i c a during the ~niddledecades of the ~zineteer-rthcerztumy, natior-ralisrrr may l.remy wefl have been at its core. But other stirnuli were present and patent as wetl, A gcrtldty number of workinpen's associations, for e m p i e , fiiltowing the exampte of F r a n k l i n o a centur)i eariier, had self-help and cultural uplift as prirnary 01-tjcctiives, 7'heir activities, morerlver, often went well beyond the rnrrndane or tlre rudirnenbrq: In March
r 853, for instance, the Metrapofitan Mechanics' I~~stitute of Washington, D.G., assernt9fed to hear an address from Joseph FSex-rv, S c c r e ~ v of the Smitbsonirzn Institution and the most disdnguished scientist in America. Such wganizadons did xnot just exist in 1-cr;ljorcities, We need Indiana, only look to the 1nstitute"sounterpal-t in tiny New E Iarmon;~: at mldcentury,"" On the other hand, many of tile Shakespearean prctducticzns in the United States during the middle third of the nineteentl-r ccntrurfp pandered to the lowest common denomi~samrsof public aaention by interspersixsg songs, slalostick, and melczdr;zma ullrelated to plays written by the bard of Avon, From an affirmative perspective, those people respox~siltlefor such productiox~stherel~jrdemocratized them l ~ maxiy mizing their acccssil-,ili~.' From a more critical perspecrim, lrowever, the entrepreneurs orltg anricipated the cominess ar~dcoarseness of kitsch by aLmost a century. A sculptor xla~nedJolrn Rogers prr~videsa less ambipous example of inte~lselypopular art that cut krerticatly throug1-r Wctorian taste levels. Working with clay, Kogers modeled famous hericaxz 6 p r e s as wet1 as sentimental domestic scenes. People admired his ""documentaries" b r their patriotic authcnticiv and his family grclups for their humamirqi: Standing sixteen to menty ixlches in height, these works enjoyed instaxlt recognition and broad appeal as icons for the l-rome. Kogers always insisted that he did not wish to attempt ""any high art"; a~zdJarnesJackson Janves, a praxninent art critic, meant to coxnplixnent R0gcr.s with the observation that "hisis not high art,"'" In val-ic~usways and h r mlrttipte reasons, hc~wevel;the appearancc of democratization in Vctorian h e l - l c a can be quite deceptive, Manufacc~irersof sporting goods, for example, responded with alacrity during the 1880s ancl 30s to new enthusias~x~s for phjrsical exercise and tile growing leisure to pursue it, 'l'ke marketing efforts of these firms certainly did expand interest in and oppormrrities far cts-gsnized play. 13articipation in sports t9ccamc an important compol-rent r ~ fpopular culture, But the mamrrfiactul-ers ~ L s c ) recognized tlreir commercial stake in the developmenr of standardized products for games with char-cut rules. Cox~sequex-rtIy,participato~innovation by tile coxnpetitors became a casualty of alliarirces bemee1-r sporting goods Arms and coaches, professiox-rat athletes, journalists, and the administratc~rsof teapes and asscjciations, The sale of pidebooais, o k c t ~makit~ga spurious claim to be "official," became especially lucrative. As one autlrorir-y
has written, however, "ever).. mccessfiJ partnership hlside the indust9 esal9tished f i r ~ ~boundaries er on the range ar-rd styles of sports ogerect to consumers on the outside," "7"h cornmercializati~~~ of sport dirninisbed democratization t~ecausetlre manufacturel--s and professionals wanted authoriy and control over this burgeoning area of popular culture and enti~usiasm.' A very &%rent illustration ctf tbe desire br control had comparat9le cunscquex-rccs in ar-rother sphere, Durix-rg the last cyuartcr of the nineteellth centuy authorities used newspapers, brochures, and guidebooks to inform audiences of the behavior expected at theatrical and musical events, 'l"ke attentiveness, restraint, and pofite appreciation that were incufcated seemed cor-rstraining and undemocratic to some in the middle class and to mar-ry ""bclow" them, T h e requltiite gcntiiity and p a s s k i ~may very wcll have been as ct6utting as the actual substance of the perfonnarrce,""" fere we encounter quiescence as a required qualicy of refined culture-ill conwast to tlre cornmoniy criticized passivity that would later accompaxly Inass culture, especialfy following the advent of telel~ision.t listoricalfy cor-rsidered,then, passivity has t9ecn demanded as wetl as deplorecf, but ix-r quite different contexts and for very different reascrns, Overlapping with that increased demand for civility at refilled entertainments, an extraordinarq. convergence of developments starting in the fater 1880s greatly cxpai-rded audiegzces for popufar cuft-ure, therel~y.democratizing amusernel-rts for tile working class, especially, but also for many in t17e '%middling'\lasses as well. 'rile must essential fcatrire kciiitating this new nclusiverress was a dramatic drop in "'popular prices," a phrase associated with the name of Benjamin FranHin Keitlr, the most famous of all the vaudeville and early ci~sernapic-,neers. Kcithho-called dime Inuseurn in Boston (expaxlding from ail array of L-ruma~~ a d d i ~ e sto a small theatrical troupe) tapped the come-and-go transient market in a respcctat9le ver-ruc that he called "refix-recf vaucicviile,'Vfle thereby seemed to oger cfernocratic distinctior-r arhilc attracting the midcile class as well as the worki11g class. He succeeded in drawing a mixed alrtlience that itlclutled women antl childretl. 'l"ke sirnufta~leityand wide range of this "entertainme~~t discount revolution" i s truly astonishing. 'E'he war l~etweenWilfiam Kandoiph F-learst and Joscph Putitzer to dominate the penny press at the endof the ccs-rtrit-;l.is .ndl known, So is the availai~ilityof ~M~~~zsey? iilzlstl-ated l-cragazitlefor fifteen cents. In r 887 &ith antl Edward I:. AIbee hcided
to charge only ten cents for their performances, ' f i e so-calted ro-m30 price scale emerged at tile turn of the centrrly and drew large crowds for melodrama in particular, (The upper balcc~nycost a dime.) Frederic 7'hasnpson's I Iippodrome, a massive theater in New %rk Ciry; offered seats at 25 cents to a dollan; rather than up to the two dollars demanded l y the mmpe tition.' l 'T"his price rcvt~lutionwas not contined to the lowest tastes and the tightest trucigets. 11-1 r 894. Wr;alterhjorosco ~ v prices t dramatically at the Ckand Opera IIouse in New 'Eiork. k%!?tbilsa decade, aff;ordaWe entertai~sment of every conceivable sort was available to aL1. In 1903-04, Kolm and Zukor oper-rcd their Automatic One Cent Vaudcvillc Emporium, where a penny operated every viewing machine, 'By rgag, admission to amusement parks across the countv h& ieveted down to ten CCII~S. The earitiest nickeiadeons, having started ixs Pjttsburglr, spread rapidly in tlre years following 1905. The 5-and-10-cent stores l~egunI-ty Frank k% incfusivei-rcss,and diversity in hnerican cuftrure during the generatios-rs prior to the rgzos. \Ve ~zeedto turn next ta the explicit mea~zingsthat contemporaries ascrihed to the democratization of ~l-tlmrein the United States, hrot surprl~ingfy~ those pcrceptiol-rs range from sirnyfistic to complex and fri-rtmambivalent to affirmative. hTeedlessto say, the al-crbivalent and complex reactions are not only more interesting hut most revealing about the ixnpact of cultrural clrange as well. If we begin at tile dawn of the cexitumy, we find both simplicity and complex'ttl~,though respol-rcfing to fairitg diverse cor-rcers-rs,Iuwarct F. Aitree, for instance, regarded vaudeville as very democratic trecause it ogered something for everyone, Aclciiressing quite ciigerent matters, EIarvard5 first t-aculttt;.member to ""profess" bericart. literature, Barrett Mrcndell, explained why he idealized writers of the hnerican Keszaissar-rce (ca. 1840 to x870), a view echoed one gencl-atioxl later l ~ y Lcwis Mumfiird. Literature in the age of ISrnerscm, I:fa.n-ti~ome,and &)letVjlIewas not aristocratic or even eiitist, Rather, wrote W7ex-rdeX1,in their getleration "the warring ideals of detnocrary and of excellence were once reconciled." CC;enrge E. mqrodl,erryg %%Tendell'seonreinpar a y at Columbia, felt absolute ~zostalgiafor that era when democtraicy combined and merged with excellence, by which he xneaxzt high ideals.'" P .
'T"hat kind af concern with excellence persisted for several decades, notably u17til the close of the 1920s and most o k c t ~articulated by American writers and critics still infir-lenced by the ctslmral st.;lndards of Mattbew htlold, I'or some, wmplexicy lay in the challenge oT dexnonstrating that culture in the C;ermanic sexise of Ktiltznlr-high, polite, and not at all mediocre as 'l"ocque\Tille had predicted4ould actwalty 11i: achietred in a democracy. As the playright Georgc Cram (.:ocrk said of himself 2nd his peers: 'Tt is fr~rus t-cl prcrvc that the finest cutmre is a possitjility of democracy," MTriting of "Democrae~rand 13ut~lic*l"aten in 1927, Percy I Tollnes Boyntc~nof the Universitry of Chicago xnanaged to reveal a preference for high cuft-ure and described middftbraw culture in pejorative terms. Vet he concluded 0x1 a hopeful note by expressing the belief that h e r i c a n s would he able to level up. Somehow, democratization .nrauld ocmr when as many people as possible aquired an appreciation for rbe finer things."" 1 he most curious of these complicated elitists who made a halfhearted effort ta adjust foFotlowing a full generadoll of dramatic cha~lge was N7illiam C. Brawnell, the most prominently devout disciple of Matthemr Arnotd in the tirlitcd States, Jn a 1 9 7 essay fix kY~ibrrw:f concerning "hpputar C:ulture," dtl-rcaging Brownell tried to put the best &ce possiMe on develc~gjmerntswhose implications he really did not comprehend, Commenting on ""te promise of our cultural gjrc~gress~" Brownell proclaimed it to be bright because "the format addir_ioz~ of popular cuftrure ta for~naleducatioxl is tile saXie11t contribution of our time to the democratic distiinctiot~EIC) d ~ u f iobscurecf t but X I C I ~obljterateif by cvrrent tej~dencicsthat arc curable because conm@ous ratl-rcr than intrinsic," "ownell liked the phrase ""democra~cdistinctic~~~," used it often, and, despite his obvious elitism, did llcst seem to regard it as a potential O ~ I X ~ ~ ~ O I L , ' ~ Like Nrendell and ;Mumfard, Browxiell caufd be optimistic t~ecause he saw class as much less of a t~arricrto extetldcd education and cultural uplift in the United States than in Great Britain, W a r he memt by "popular culture" wlren he used the term in a positive way is exempliGed by the uniniirrrned coslcertgoer who carefully reads program notes prepared by a professional-in sum, an ardinax?;lperson wha defers ta cuft-ural authority, 1Ie~icethe satishction Brawnell derived from a perceived trend: "the reactiness with which p o p ~ ~ lresponds ar to prrrfcssional culture bhich] shoutd tend to ailay alarm as to the vulgarizing effects of popularizadrtn, . . ." He acknowledged tlrat Amel-lcans held to an undefined democratic ideal, and tl-ien made an unelaborated P .
2 . Ei, I;, ~'CIenberz a ~ l dCeorgtJeafz AVgtbaa (1947)by Irving I'enn (platinum-pailadiuni print)
distinctioxz bemeen ""the popularization of cuft-ure and its vulgarizatior-r," Utiltixnatetg he seemed to find sofacc in the breadth af A1xericar-r. education and curlseqrlentiy tile capaciry for wide-rarlging uplik. "Our general culture is probably more gencrd-getlerat enough at all evetlrs to hold our the promise both of becoming more sn and at the same time ri$ng m a higher level.?'3' As late as the end of the I C ~ Q the~-r, S , relics from another era, like IZrc~w~-reii, conid only enr;ision a process of trickle down and then level up;blrt a t least they did r-r.cltordinarily verbalize an overt contempt for d.el-croc.raticculture as ciid I-I. L,. iMencken and George feat1 Narhan, Democratic distinction seems to have been a less progressive concept than "E'homasJefkrsonB aristocracy of talex-rt rather ttra~zl~lrth,Bath required education, the more the Getter; but JefaEersoxz did not expect that those with namraf af~ifitieswurzXd cor-rstax-rtlydefer to the judgrncr-rt of professionai cultural authorities, 'l'heir d e n t and initiative
would make them self-reliant. Right or wrong, their taste worztd ire their own.j2 7'he decade following World nTarI would be the last time when men and women considered reasonel~leand progressive could csndictty express doubts about den~ocracy.h z d when they did so, their eoncerl-rs invariably co~mectedwith cufhzre 2nd social relations rather than the d f l ~ ~ t i 0jSHe1"~p~s 0~1 A~BYIIS, a national political systern or process. T ~EP t~cst-sellerjn r g rg, co~-rvcyed anxiey about the dimint~tionc~ftvtmrai enerm that might result from complercl democracy, "Art is something for the few?" "dams remarked, "md wlro those few are is umpredictable," He j~earx-redfor a ""critically alert cuttrure," and feared that that objective coufd i-rot be realized in a total dcxnocracjr. Edit11 Alvard, a 13rogressjvc and prominent social rcforxner in Detroit, rcct~rdcdthis entry in l ~ ejournal r after vjsiting a neighborhoctd movie honsc in r 919: "I am democrsl-ic but I hate rlre odors of democracy," Atrhough wome~~'s clrlbs grew rapidly &ring the r ~ p a and s became xnore inchsive, older members tended to regret that cha~zge,"E'hey cornpfalned that maIzy women wanted the social prestige "but are ~zotwilling to work for c ~ l m r e . " ' ~ During the I g2 os a genuine ctialc~gucocctlxrred, whicl-r occasionaltg burst into open debate, over the potential role of traditiollally understood ctrlmre in a modern democracy and in wlrat some critics also regarded as the emergex-rceof mass sociietjr, Edward L. Bernays, known as the Eoundcr of p b l i c refatior-rs, seemed to view demoracy rather cj7f-ricaliy-not as a politjcaj philosophy regarding the ethics of power but as a forxn of social organi7=(1tionthat maximized ctpportcrnities for persuasion if not manipulation, Suclr an outlc~okwas commonplace among intellectuals during the 1~20s." Other critics, writers, and infiueneial editors during the intewar years developed less ambipous and more affirmative ser-rtimentsconccrrring cultural democratization tl~artthe likes of Bern2ys, Brownell, and Rc~ynton,T h e most excxnplav and imporpant c~fthese may have been Stuart Pratt Sherman, a prolific writer on hnerican literamre I editor of the wlro left the Universitry of Illinois in 1924 ~ F become Herfir.l Tribune$ new literary supplement, a positior-r in wIzictr he genuinely stlaped opixzians about writing in the Uxtited States, Iris essays in Anrericr;kns( I gz 2) and Ti5e Ge~ziids of Avreric~(I 9 2 31, along with his extet-rsivecorrespot-rdencc,reveal his stror-rgiyfett desire not only to recover the native literarjr tradition but to do so in a way that would meet tlre challenge of a truly democra~cculture. "The line I lrave
taken and ixirter-rd to foitow," he wrote to Brt~wnelt,"is the encouragemcjirt of the 11atiw tradition, with all its imperfections on its head, the 13u;ritan,the pioneer, the jacksonian strain, the adventurous, daring, explori~sgspirir, democracy-wlratever it can be made tts mean, and an including, at ary race, a growing fraternity.""In 1923 S h e r ~ ~ made the following declaradox~to a colleague who had comrne~~tedi on "dire democracy of a m m of letters": '""I'here is EIC) question at the present time recluiring more thinking, caliing for a more definite stand, and kmatlding more explicit expression for a mat1 of letters than precisefy the yueseon: What does demt~cracymeall to S h e r ~ ~ would an ~zothave been hostile to teveling up and to some aperati~remeaning for a culture of ""dexnacratiic distinctiox~"";jtrt his deep c o m m i t ~ ~ e ntot putdic education and to the i~~tellige~irtsia's responiibiliy for outreach to a brwad a~~ciience meant that his advocacy was a lot less arch and disdainful than Brownelfk+ve~~ though Sherman hiinself became just the kind of professional vcrde mlrczrm for the unentighcened that Browxzell had c~~visios-rcd. 'f'lze key differer-rcegeneradox~alas welt at tempel-amental-lajr in S h e r m a ~ ~ h t r o coxnng of standards." His role m i t ~ ~ e to n t g% gcnuinciy democratic diff~~sion. as a cvtmrai authoritgr wo~ziidbe gexirtle rather than genteel, deiiheradve rather than didacec, cajoling rather than c o n c l e ~ c e n d i n ~ , ~ Like so many d~fri~sg the intenvar years?Sherman's id eaf ot;cufrrrt-al dcxnacracjr was inseparable from a form of xxatiox~alismthat had more to do with shaping a clearer sense of natiar-ral identiy than it did with t~latantr~atjot~at chauinism, Paul Rosetlfeid, fbr example, a versatile critic who wrote about mt~sic,art, and literamre, obsenred that artists could ""hlp enormously to create a democratic sociey in h-rrerica. In investing h e r i c a n essences with worth and presetlting them with l~eautjr,they help to cox~veythe national idea. . . ." During the Inter x y3os, xnar-ry pard~ipa~lts in the Popular Front coatition felt deeply committed to the de~~ocratizatitrn of cuttvrre,;its tlid thousar~dsupon thousands of participants in the vario~usW'orks Progress Admiriristration programs that supg-rorredartists, writers, and tlreater people. EIolger Cahilf, director of the h t l e r d Arcs L3roject, res-rrarked in its operating ma~zualthat ""re aim of the project will be to work toward an integratiox-rof &e line arts and the pracrical arts,'"' f~~ cities as a major irnpetlls h r poputar crrlmre much earlier in tirnc than hmericanists do for tlre United States. Otlrer radical critics, irrespec~ an a1nn~)stconspiratorial view of cultural enwetive of n a t i o n a l i ~take preneurs, painting them in ma~zipulativeand even malevolent tones. Stil others are wilting to acknowledge the powerhl role of cultrural entrcprerlcurs hut ascribe rrrlinterlcfcd benefits to their activities, such as the democratization of leisure and the a@c~rdaktepleasures that it ~lrakcspwsil-lie." I he most pemasive prohlel-cr t b r 1 encoutnrer arnong neo-&far~st interpretations of cufture, lrowever, involves their tendency to tetcscope time, From a Ezistoriaxz~er~ective, progressi~resociologists, mcrnhers ctf tire crrlturat studies p i l c t , anif literary histcrriadcritics do not aiiow sutiicierltty h r nuanced perioctization based upoil gradual transformations. hlan Swingewood, far instance, a British sociologist, believes tlrat popular culture had its social basis in mate-ial production, Cansequentiy, he and others call it "coxnmercial culmre," He appears, P .
at times, tcr diEerentiate f~ctwcenp o p ~ ~ l and a r mass culture in nineteenth-centuay Brimin; but the grcjunds for $istinction are not made clear. Swingewood does imply that popular (commercial) ctrlmre emerged first, and that mass culture was stil in embryo when the EngIish novelist Witkie Cotlins wrote his fi~mousessay "The Urrknown Public" in 1858, T h e unknc~wn puhfic, C:oiiins wrotG is "'hardty beginning, as yet, to learn to read. The members of it are evid.etlrlgi, in the mass, from no fault of theirs still ignorant of almost ever).thing wlricb is generally known 2nd understc,od arnong readers whom circumstances have placed, socially and intellecmallyv; in the rank above them," ht Swingewaod"streatment of The iW~thofi;l/ra.r.r Gkrrre, we get cmde distinctions t9cmcej-r &c nineteellth and twcntieth cetlturics, but t~ccausehis prowc~cativehjamiist appro~c"tfistotaltg topical, chronologicd subtleties anci nuances of charlge are 1ni11imized.' 'l"ul-xling ta hnerican sociologis~on tile left*Elizabeth and Sarart of Ewen, in their study of the social basis of consumer societlir, C"hnn)l.;tels Degke: &Wasfvt~zge.~ NPZJrhc Shflpi~tgof Arrreriican (lopzsciol~~:r?less~ also tef escope time problernatimlly in describing m American, tr-ajcctory that skips almost ~vernightfrom aparian sirnpliciq to industrial complexity. According to tlre Ewens, mass ctrlrure in the United States-by which they mean a social landscape mariced l ~ ycor-rsuxner industries, mass media, and inter-rsive merchandising-"c-IeveIoped just when a former1y mt-al or otbewise non-industrial perrple were being transformed into a permanent3 mass jncfustriai population. T h e panorama of a mass ctrlmre was a bridge between the aspirations of an old ctrlmre and the prioriLies of' a new one.'"" No, I say: Too fiat and unhistorical, "E'he transformation that they refer to was, in my view, ck7erso gradual rather than swift. l\foreover, because the trai-rsi"ormado1-roccurred in stages t~ctwcenthe r 880s and the rg6os, and because it cor-rnects premodern with contempcbrav h c r i c a , the trax-rsforxnadon itself is 5ascinating, worth more than just an allusion, T h e transformation, in fact, with particular reference to the uses of leisure, is primarily wlrat thk book is all about. Because it is possibfe to paint ta the braad dissexnination of Sears, Kc~ebuckar~dMongomerq. Ward c'ataiopes by 1910, it becomes all the more x-reccssary to distinpish tresc;veen mass culture and protomass culture beyond tlre obvious difference of sheer scale, Lines of dis-
Consumerism, Amcricanis~~, and the Phasing of' Pqpglal- Czlltftr-e tinction can t9e too readily cjverdrawn; but some f9asjc contrasts nevertheless seem evident as bemecn, say, rgro and a half century later, A strong and entirely appro~3riateemplrasis in recent writing has diverted our attention to the rise of deparment stores and mail-order companies, which of course had natioxzalizing irnplicatioi-rs. &%at has unfortuxlately been lost for the period from 1870 to 1930 is the continuing importance of face-to-face ct~mmerceby meat-rs c~fgeneraf stores and traveling salesmei~.In a world when face-to-face commerciaf relaticms still mattered, personal selliisg strategies remailled extremely important, (At the end of the nineteentlr centur?y;just before publishing The mnde@bI Wizard of Oz I r r)oa], L. Fralzic Baum earned l-ris living as a door-to-door salesman.) Because door-to-door canlrassers and "dnutnmcrs" who sold to the traifc still played a vital roXc, the commerciai tandscixge was more decentralized than most recent titemure has acknowledged. "I'hat has been the price paid for a preoccupation with d.etermii~ii~g the gencsis 01; our higbfy rarionalized, bureaucratizetl, axzd impersonal coxzsulner culture.' Let us then, for the sake of convenie~zceancl succinctness, use tile at~breviationsPMC (for proto-mass culture) and &K(far mass culture), PMC: featured the procurement of aE:oritable g o d s to hlfill basic fiarnily needs, wlrereas i!lilC= facilitated the consurnp"cion of information and extensive entertainment from mass media barely irnagt~sed in xgro, 13ilslCinvolved a culture of aspiratior-r that still required a great deal of delayed gratification, whereas MC: involved a culture of hifillmcr-rtthat minimized delayl;d gratification t9y means of u~~preccdel-rtecf afflt~enceand extcnsiw credit sehcmcs. Iluring PMC, taste was heavily determilled by means of finite resources, whereas the ethos of passessian in &%C: made it commonplace to own more than one actualy ~zeededas well as more than one could afhrd. Daniel IXorowitz has dcxnonstl-ated that prior to the r y3os, data from L~ousehold"Ddges do not point to a world in which mass ~ d t u r and e commercialized leisure predominated in the lives of most fa~nilieswith IOW to moderate incomes. Susan Porter Bellson has aLst) S ~ C I W Ithat P prior to World k%Kar 11, most workiisg-class families in the United Stares "remaiised on the margins of the ernergi~zgworld of cor-rsumptionbecause their incornes were 1zeir;her large enough nor steady enough ta allow the wick raxzge ctf tliscr-etiona~yspending usually asscrciated with mass ccrs-rsumpticm," Until the r gzos, morecjver, traditional moralistic assumptions remained. prevalent in the realm sf wurEng-class consumption,'
During TWC:, travel for most A ~ c r i c a n sremair-recf tirnited rather than extex-rsive, whereas MC witncssecf travel 011a scale that would have k e n inconceivable a t the turn of the centLsry. Dro-ing PM(:, regional and local idclltity remailled extrelnely importmt, almost prit whereas llatlr af those consiclcramary in the lives of ~ n o sAmericans, tios-rs became less cnxcitlf in MC, when a sense of national identiv t9ccarnc more pcwasive and meax-ringht, By the rg7os, for example, more than haif of the perrple living in Xew Hampshire had not been born tlrel-e, a first in the state5 histoy, Ilespite the convenrinnal wisdom, I suspect that standardization of basic products may have been greater in 1910 than Inter in the cenmrqr; Certainly the range af choices (and the array of specialized camlopes) is far more exknsive in our awn time, If-\ 1910 a potential wstclmcr might have been delighthlly cjvewhelmed hy innovation and the affordabiliv of mail-order items. Several genel-a~onslater novelty had come to be expected as the norm (eve7 Christmas a totally new craze for the kids), a~zdbasic affordabilit-yfeft more ncgotiabte t~ecaurseof the eagerl-rcssof comznercial enterprises to extend credit. Prior to the frrtl natjot~atimpact of radio during the micJ-1930s and the advent of tclcvision some tifieen years latea; maffazines I-rad been the priinary IC~GLES of modern, widespread advertising. With electronic media, ads simply Acrw at and over the listeners. 7'hey become literal "receivers" despite their pater-rtialcapacity to respo~zdpo"ti~.refy,Izeptivefy, a r not at all. hfagazinc ads, however, are much easier to ignore, A person must make some sort cjf effort to look them over, consider them, perhaps even clip a few out as reminders, Responding to magazine ads, therefcrre, is a more proactive process. M e r e a s television atlvertising is more insistent, people are not likely to get angT at magazine ads us-rless they are tasteless or eqfoitative. Radio and telel~isian commercials are more likely to become one a r t~oth;t>ut they do not demand the attentiver-ressthat magazit-reads call for, "fetevisionads, by comparison, normally elicit an inactive response except for special sirnations like pledge drives or channels devoted exclusively to sales for buyers at home, a recent phenomenon. r Z he full emergence and impact af mass media aker midcerztumy diminishecl re&ox-ralism and increased the simuteaneitgr with which prrrducts (rangiflg from gcrods to errtertainmenr) ctnrid be exposed to a nationwide audience. By tlre time Daniel J, Boorsdn first coilled the phrase and wrote about "consumption cornmuniees" in 1967, their X
Consumerism, Amcricanis~~, and the Phasing of' Pqpglal- Czlltftr-e distributiot~ ar-rd contiguratiox-r had t~ecorne more pewasive than Irdward Rcrnays or anpcrl-re pioneered in marketing might have envisioned half a centLIry earlier, Iioreigsl as well as h e l - l c a n sclralars have effectiveb demonstrated tlre protligious and swik spread of mass media and the dramatic cxpa1irGo11 of collsumer culture starting in the mid-zggos. That f-refpsus to coxnprehe~ldsome of the basic differences ctf degree hemcen mass cxiture and what I have designated as protomass culture earlier it-r the mentieth century."' In tlris clrapter, therefore, we will lczok at tlre commodil-icatim of culture, a prcfeess that has proceeded apace, albeit with acceleration after NTorld War I, and compare that process with the influence of ~zatio~zalism upon hericaxz cultllre, a pxteern that has pufsated at an in-epiar pace over the past r 20 years,
IJuring: the last years of tile nineteenth cenmmy, advertising sudde~lly became crucial for the sustenarirce of commercially ambitious Arnerican m a p i n c s and helped to make some ctf dlem affordable tcr a far t9n~aderaudiencc. In most instar~cesadvertisixsg rever-rue became more importmt to publislrers than cczurnter sales and subscriptions, That shik was sj~mptomaticof the advent of a new era. Advertising as a voeati01-r gained irnxne~lselyin sapf-ristication and impact during the decade lletwee1-r E yog and E y l 5. Ear~zestJI:lmo Calkns first published LWoder..r? Adus~"~.isirng in 1905, a Kex-rchmark and a hax-rdbook PC)C those wka sought to shape ar-rd even domixsate the x-rascent constimer sodey. k%%enhe pubtislred a revised edition ten years later, C:alkins could point to new contribut-ions by others in tlris b~iddingfield and declare that aherdsing: had l~ecome"i~rorescientific and more certain ti~anit was, 977
As WC have already seen, the marketix-rg efforts of sportir-rg goods manufacturrers became t d y intense during the tast two decades of the nineteenth cenruq, Extes~siveadvertising campaigtls used deceptive techniques to promote the sale of e q u i p e n t , manunls, and guidebooks that they desig~zatedas "offieiaf" in order to cx-rhance desira"u1ity. 'f'lze ma~zuFacturersalso wariced collusively with coaches, trainers, a d sports entrepreneurs in an eEc3rt to increase demand for their goods. Misleading advertising, devised fc~rother kinds of products, became standard usage in comeet-iotl with so-catled medicines and
hc.atth prtrducts. flemccn 1885 and xgro the commodifimtion of exercise, cornpetit& sport, and l-realth cures became major manifestations of popular c ~ ~ l m irr r e the United S r a t e ~ Why . ~ do I deliberately use popular rather than mass? Because the slumbers of people we are talking about are significant but i-rotyet vast cornpared with, s q the lg7ss a~zdly8os. ;Moreovet-, the ~necirarinsxnsfor reaching audier~ceswith inforxnation and then actually making sales were ct:lxmt>crsomecornparecf with television advertising, x-rational distrit~utiot~, and sates 011 credit during the later decades of the mentieth century," We have diverse indications along wit11 illustrative material fri-rrm L-ristoriai-rs that the carnrnercialization of leisure did ~zotcause an imznediate or direct transition to mass culmre, Nre know, for example, that heytrnd the big cities aridicl-rcesfix vaudeville during its halcyon days were segmented try geography by their abiliy to pay, o k e t ~t>y ethnicity9and by access to transportatiiorn and snobili~.Between I 880 and 1 9 2 0 most promoters of vaudeville accepted and catered to that diversity. During the internal- years, slowly but steadily, touring acts began to set Inore coz-rsistex-rtstandards of performance, and car-rsequentiy to raise expectatior-rs, Acts trecame less re&or-raX, less ethnic, ~ As Robert W. Snyder has tess routed jn a particular scx-rsc C Jplace. written, when companies took their acts on the road, '"performers made popular culture less a part of a place and more dependent on the partaHe offerings of an entertainmex-rt industry" "jrder then adds a crucial distinction, however, one that r e ~ n d us s of the extent to which we are now three full generatior-rsremoved from the 1920s. ""Atth~~ugh vaulltellt2s well as its mallller of presentadon, Camel cigarettes sponsored iZlan A g i r ~t"l.ilip2.e . ~ on CZBS. Nrriters for that program received in miineographed form detailed instnxceions, such as: never show a disreputable person smoking a cigarette, AndJohn Cameron Swaym, the most popular television neMTscasterof the rgsos, had a lighted cigarette trurning on his desk thoughout the broadcast with a pack prominenrly displayed so that the camera could. not fail to reveal the sponsor's brand.'2 '1-he separatio~z2nd subsequer-rt segmex-rtatior-rof youth cufhzre played a significant part in the commerciaf enhancement of mass culture, Once again, this was a gradual process that occurred aver a period ctf several decades at midccntil~.'I'he creation of .$"evezteenmagazine in ~ g i t dl~igl-rliffhted , the fact that teetnagers had developed an idenrifi-
aide, discrete sr~f~culttlre with attendar-rt dress, behavior, sfyitcs of teisure--and thcrefr~remarketing possit~ilitics,Well over a decade after that, mainly in the rgsos and 1g6os, television bought intense (rather tlran casual) commercialization into the lives of children, 7'he full ernergex-rce of "kdvid" a11 Saturdajr morxungs in the 1960s, for instance, Gacilitated an ovemhelming variety of ads for child-ohex-rted toys and food.'" Mthongh much attej-rtionhas Ixen devotc:d to the groaring importance of yrtung people as consumers witlr considerable amounts of money available to spend, especially since the ~gAos,the cntrepre~zeurialirnputses of young people during the caunterclulmrd intensiy af the later x 960s have been virtwally ig~zored.Yet they too played a key roie in brindng the commerciatiratim of poprilar and mass d t l r r e tcl new levels, not to mentior~adding new dimensions 'I'he famous kTTtjodstock Iiesdval held in upstate hTew York in August 1969, for example, owed its conceprion and precisely calculated development to four jToung entrepreneurs who intended from the outset to make a y the project. '2ko af them mi&r be called great deal of ~ n o ~ i efrom prrrto-pppies who supplied the necessarq. capital for development, T h e other two were ge~~uincly anti-esmkiishmcnt young men, Mici-raci Lang and Artie Komfeld9 whc-, envisioned a scenal-io of love and peace-aIczng with wondrc-zus wealtlr for tlremselves, "I"he most thoraugh history of N700dstack puts their activities urider a caxzdid spotlight. 'rhe two were ""movers" in a microcosm af foitowcrs, your~g men full of confidence and purpose wl-ro could lay back and ullwind over a joint and still take care of business with unyielding tenacity. t lere was that beautihl irony indicative of the ge1-reration8 and-Establishme~~cL-reroes who wallowed in the splendt~rsof cutthroat capicajism--fighting to excel in the very t-lting tile movement rejected. 'I'hey masqueraded as ilippies although rhey d s o shared an aBeccictn fc,r spending large sums of other pei~pte"sc~ney~" Ever since the 1960s there has been an increasingly coxnplex, contested relationsl~ipin the Unitcd States between capitaf and culture b r r r d y conceived, &at is, between po~~erfill corporations and their opponents in vvlrat amounts to a series of cclllAicts over tlre control of rampant consumerism. In 1965 the ITighway Beautification Act, com-
Consumerism, Amcricanis~~, and the Phasing of' Pqpglal- Czlltftr-e mot-rly k~-rrswx-r as the trillboard passed in the C:~~~-rgress f ~ aysingle vote. Scr other legislation that sessior-r caused so much heated ccbr-rtroversy and required so much effort to persuade senators to support it. CIommercial Alnerica seemed to l~elievethat the use of a d w r ~ s i n gon Itillboards surely inust Ite a right protected bp the First Ame~ird~nent." By the I ~ ~ O Son , tile other l-rand, corporatioxzs increasingt-y regarded the accluisitirsn and display of art as wefl as support for exhibitions as good public relations. Robcrt Kingsley, J~,m01-rexecutive and founder as well as chairman of the Arts and Business CIou~scil, explained that Emt->n"r;%supg-rort of the arts serves as a social lubricant. Aircl i f business is to continue ixz big dties, it iirceds a lubricated enviraiment," h v i d RockefeFler put it even inore expficitly. )","room an ecot-romic scandpc~int,such ix-rvc~Xvementin the arts can meax-r direct: and tangible benefits. It car1 prrrvide a cornpally with extcnsivc: pubticity and advertising, a l~righterpubljc repuratiotl, and at1 iinprovetl corilorate image, It can huiltl better customer relations, a readier acceptaxe of companjr product" arzd a superior appraisal of their qualiv. Promodon of the arts can improve the morale of empfojrees and hdp atlract qualified per~ot-rnel."""~ By the mid-1980s the commercialjzatim of aggregate information, such as 1nemberf;hip lists of inuseurns atld profeessiotlal organizations, had become a dominailt feature of the United States economy-driven in so manjr ways by the need for gross quantities of informadoxz about poterirtial consumers. In E 985 the Cauiirell on Library Resources, a p i vate organi~xtion,issued an extraordinaly and higMy syrnptcrrnatic statement: Wayunust be found to assure continuing attention for tlrose aspects of cutture and learning that are important but, in a commerciaf ser~se,iirot necessarily in fidshion. . . . Uncritical adherence to the co~-rccptof informatiur-ras a commodisy will distort the agendas of instit-rtdons and disciplilles atikc, . . . f"rft9lic i~sterestin the principle of open access must appropriately inaucnce the structure of the i~sfc~rmatiorn sjTstem and its components. It: is certain that the inforxnaGoxz needs of sociesy canrzot be defined by the rnarkerpjace alone." Nevertheless, in an age af declinix-rg reso~zrces,universiti~strecame increasilsgly dependent on corporate Anerica for money; equipment, lakoratories, anti other researefi facilities. As the Chm~zicle$Higher-
E d ~ ~ w tput i o ~it in 1985: "the refation tremcen academe and business is more cordial than it has treen in de~ades.'"~ 1he same pattern applies to what are now called 'bsnegachurches," congregations that have grown exceedingly large because enterprising mirusters have carehlty observed techniques successhi in the world of entertaiment, smdied the tl-ansielzt tastes af middle-class America, and tearned from the secular jnstitutior-rs that appeat to it, Such entcrprising c l e r m ~ e nstlldy rhe writings of Peter E I)nlcker, the leaditlg theorist of corporate management and leadership, and hang posters by their pastoral doors that highlight provocat-ive questions raised in I3nxckcer"swritings: "What is our business"zho is our customer? \VIiat does the customer consider vatue"z7 "f'he phenome~zazz of mcgacburches, along with the immcr-rse mo1-retaf.rsucccss of tetcvangclists in recent years, demnstratcs the commerciati7,ittion of cttltllre in yet another realm of American life, religiun,'" h 1986 a federal judge refused m ""sell" rlre exclusive coverage of a major naturalizatioxz ceremoily to ABG-'Z'V For $10 milIioxz.""h~nples of such resistas~ceto co ercialization of a public process, a r of cdtvrt-al events that do not rey~ZIrea corpc~mteS P O I - ~ S Oin ~ ctrcijer to occur at all, are incrcasix-rgly rare, W'e have long k~-rowxrthat artifacts produced in the private sector can be bought and sold, including the books that authors write, the pictures that artists paint, and the music that composers create. But attemp& at the cornmodification af civic life stilt come as a shock-at least for some af us. It must ire ackrsowtecfged that a revisionist perccptiot-r of cunmrnerism has emerged sir-rcethe mid-1g8os. I find this view only partially persuasive and will returll to it when we coilsider contemporary mass culture in chapter 8, T h e reader should be forewanled, Irowever, that culmrat critics af a certain papulis~ersua"on insist that consumers are formative participants in the culture of consumption (rather than simply passive vietixns), setectix-rggoods that please them a d endowing them with a significance not necessari(y anticipated t9y those who sell them4' P .
T h e fcit desire by cjtizcns of the United Staates for identifiably hnerican mar-rikstatiot-rsand expressions ~ d t u r edates t9ack to the early decades of tlre nineteenth cenr-uq, For same people, the need sirnply
Consumerism, Amcricanis~~, and the Phasing of' Pqpglal- Czlltftr-e reflected an expression of rlatjot~atpride (ax-rd a modicum c~ftvltural insecuriv), For others, by midccr-rt-uryand tater, the desire also mcax-rt an oppoa~u"sivto pedcite hooks atld magazines, songs and theatrical entertailmeats that prociairned a distilsetitre national identity in a world that did not: believe that a detnocracjr was capable of '6ge~-ruine" culture and that the United tieates, in particulan; had a population too heterogenec~usto pn3duc.c a distir-rctveculture or jcie~-rtiyin any case, At rnidccnn1f")rWa' Xt W i t m a n feft that A1xericar-r.literature seemed too imiti~eveof:polite culture in Europe. It: lacked sufficient "hnericanness. "" Nutnerous writers have obsewed that from the 1830s ti~raughthe x 890s ~zotionsof popular culture (exemplified by theatrical ex-rtertainmen&, minstrel shc~ws,and ahrdable writing in booklets and magazines) wcrc strongly tir-rgedby natior-ratistichues. 'T"hatwas equally tme of tales of Davy Crockett and the Marno, dime novels abuur Buffalc;, Bill's explczits as a scout, and Edwin Bc>oth"serebral Shakespearean perfarma~zces,Each G p r e became Iege~zdary~ in fia-tct,precisely because he ernbodied the Arnel-icanness for which blvfhihnan had yearned.'3 "What complicated matters, hc~wever,as IQic Lott has obsenred, is that popular culture jxs r~ix-reteentl~-ccnturfr hxerica was contested and consequently unstable, ""R site oi" can8iccing interesrs, appropriations, impersonations, indeed bnationalities,>even in its allegedly nadornal forms." Competing ver~~aeulars existed in the Uriited States because of regional, raciaf, and dass differences, As Latt has writtell of the minstrel show, '20ne sees a ccrr-rstant struggle for control-ei~compassitlg black, white, immigrant Irish, and other crtlmres-within blackfacc forms thernsel~es."'~Yet another reason why I am unwilling to apply the label of ""mass culture" RI nineteentl-r-centu~Amel-lca, therefore, is because major differences of class and race remained so powertsul find combustible) througl-raut the cenmrq;: ;Vanjr factors were required to make mass ~ x i t u r egenuinely "mass,'%nd one ctf them was a warzirlg and resuitar-rtdiminution of ctass consciorzsx-ress,class distir-rcdox-rs,and class-related tastes, So long as those diisri~sctiionspersisted in palpable wa)rs-and they did until the second half drbe twentieth centrlq-we could not: have a tmly mass sociev, never mind a sinplnrty mass culture, Every so ahex-r durir-rg the later nineteenth cetltury some poet, preachet; ectitor, or politician aw.dd proclairn a sentirncnt seemingly indicative of cultural or social hr>mogeneiy on a vast scale-pejora-
tivefy 017 ~ c ~ ? i i ( ryet n , sometimes with apprrlval. "It is not a trifling matter," MTroteJames RussefX Lc~wetl,""eat thirty millions of men should be t h i ~ ~ k i ntlre g same thougl~tand feeling the same pang at a single moment of time, and that tlrese vast parallels of latitude should ltecorxle a neighborliod more inrixnate than many a countT \riilage.'94i "E'hat assertioxz might be vatid as an allusioxz to tietera~zsof the Grand Army of the Republic, pel-haps, blrt i ~ t to ~ tthe great m4fange of new immigrants, farmers migrating beyond the Mississip~3i,and young people leaving rural weas to seek their fortunes in the burgeonkg cities. Irvlfost h e r i c a n s did not yet respond to the same news at the same time and think the same ti~oughts"at a single ~noment."!is late as x y301Joy Elmer lkforgan a~zticipatedradio as the basis for establishing a trllly '%national cr;lituremand called fr~rgovernment reptation in order to achieve the "prrblic enlightenment" that radio 11ad the potential to foster, By then tl-re prospect did exist, though it had nor become a reality quite yet.4o By the 6rst decades of the twentieth cer-rturyan irarGc development had occurred, though virtualty no one perceived it as ironic at the ti~z~eThat recogniticrl-r wwrfd come sclme fifty years iatel; 'l'hrougi~outthe nineteenth ccl.rtlrr)i hmerieans had yearned for genuknely disrinctim forms of art, literature, and music in the United States, If they did nor always have lriglr culture specificalljrin mind, they cerminly ellvisiolled elevated forms of expressioxz. On the eve of VVorld NLar X, however, when I;urapea~zst~eganto take note of hnerican creativit-?;,it woufd be innc~~atiuns in popular ~vfture that caught their attex-rtion and prrnnpted their admimion, A tong editorial essay in Scribnerk offered this highly revealing observatirtn in 1913: "Every [hnerican] traveller to Europe in recent days has had the oploortranitry of observilsg the interest sllown in Axnerican tunes and dance r h ~ h m which, s as assodated in his mind with forms of amusement xirat ~zecessarilyof the 1-rigt-rest class, certainly do not strike 11irn as very ~ w r t h yof being thctugt rcpcxntativeiy American."" 'The author/cditor did not i~elievethat Americans took sufficient or particular pride in their "rag-time ardsts,'" yet achowledged tlrat musicians and audiences in Euroloe had a surprisingiy difkrer-rt perspecthe. ""'l'hey don't regard hnerican popular music as being any ~zablerin tone ti~anwe do ourselves; Gut they do find it tecl-rnicatly new; they do find that it is original, that it leads in a fresh direction," "'Then came the rcluceant ack~~owiedper-rt that jazz night even he a distinctive and vatrretl native cotlrritjution: "IVe may
Consumerism, Amcricanis~~, and the Phasing of' Pqpglal- Czlltftr-e have in these vulgar [musical] measures something more vatuatlle than we grasp; something which t~e1~~11gs pcaxliariy to rrs, and which may contain the germs of a greater developent-sometl~ing~ in short, to be called nae~nal."~' 'l'he writer went on to observe that recent krisitors to the United States were xnast eager to discover ""the ' p ~ ~ u f anote r ' of h e r i c a , " the tively and distinctive products of "fin X3an A!ley3 which was then productively pulsing wit11 new music, and theatrical enter~ainmerzts,'The editor;ial recognized tlre need to reconsider, in less snol-1bislr tvay;s, the hu~nhlersources oi" national cultural espressiotl. "Fcjlk-song% f d k tore, natior-ral dances, ~zatioxzalepics, the hjl-fiavored welling up from the soil of the love and joy of life-these, we were rernindeci, were tire britage of the oider, artistic pccrples, whslrw all gllcat national art had sprurl g, 1his was not tlre first time cultural critics in the United States bad been ohtiged to acknwledge that Etrropem perceptions of h e r i c a n popular mintre did not coincide with native sexxtirnents and seffawareness, But it may well 11ave brougirt a shoclc of recognidon: namely, that h e r i c a n ~ v t m r eas a natjot~alconcern might be valued more highly for its popular contr-ittrrtions than for its "set-i(jusn or highbrolv aspiradons. In 1908 that same column (magazine departmenl;), perlraps written by the very same editor, bad quoted an English critic who remariced that ""while there may be less emditioxz in h e r ica, there is cor-rspicuaus2y more cufhzre," Afore xneant poplar, fresh, a d diverse rather tl~anhigh; er~tertilinnlerltratl~crthan rhe advancemcrlt of bztj~;ledgc.'f'hat critichcbsetvation wcl-rttl raise a cnrr;tin for the cecsrrtuy to co~ne."' :tileanwhile, d~tf-1119the early decades of the menrietlr centrtT?con~zectionst~emeenhericaxzism and commercial cu1.t-r;r.t-eappeared in severat iircw waj~s.Klm coxnpaiiries promoted and even celebrated their of colItemporaf7r events and history. W'ithin nowcl rote as chro~~icters weeks of Wootfrow W7iIson"seath in r gzq., the first film tribute to hjxn was in production, "I'he film consisted of morion picture foowge taken during IVilsonQpresidency and retirement interspersed with title fra~nesextolling his krirt-ucs in efhsikre and pious terms, "X'he producers 11oped to presexxt the film ""reverently" each day somewhere, forever. In surn, they hcrpcd that the fitm .n;t_tuldprtrvc to he proti~ai~le as well as inspiratio~~al!" IDuring World War I, and especially in 1915-16, intensive puMic P .
discr;lssions af "hericar-rism" wtook place, with not;lzkle contrifk-cttions from attorney Lojuis D. Brandeis (not yet on the Supreme C:ourt), philosoplrer IIorace Katlen, critic Randofph Bourne, socialist Elizabeth Churley Flynn, and others, Ilissenters like F l p n and 13ourne called for cuft-ural plurafisx~and internationafism as the best (least cf-rauvinistic)definition af patriotism. But theirs was distinctly a Ininor19x6 ""Americanism" meant ity 13cs"ition and lacked broad appeal, 11% compliant assimi1atjot-r ancl Amencax-rizadon to most people: wha considered themselves to be of native stock, Once the United States became directly involved as a cclrnbatallt in 1917-18, George Creel's Caxnmittee on Pul~licInfarxnadox~rolled into high gear as a pro-Allies propagarirda bureau that effecti~rely~lrnariripulatedand even comznadifrcd public pcrccptions heid t9y hncricans. 'I" ifistributiot-r of treatises and posters had a pc~wcrkltgcohesive ixnpact upon public opinion. Creel's efforts were considerably enhailced by lessrms learned fri-rtmdevelopments in cclrnlnercial ad\rertising during the previous two decades, Failure ta support the war effort t~ecametantamount to treason.'" Back in 1897, wl-rex~the ~o~mmercXltXi7,atjm of c"u1ture in the Unitccf Spates was still immature (by comprisor-r with half a ces-rtrtirylater), the critic Brallder &fatthews lrad defined ""americanism" in social and civic terms. "I'he word meant patriotism and acceptance of the principles underpiming the U.S. governme~~t. "It trowxzs upan all appeals to the former allegiance of ~zaturalizedcitizens af this countsy; and i t thinks that it ought to he enough fbr airy man to be an American ~ r i t h t ~the ut aid of the l~~pl-rcn."" By the 1920s, lrawever, four decades of ilstensive immigration bad and tnarketing people to the process opened the eyes of man~~fiactttrers af Americanization as arir oppartui~ityfor expanGve consumerism, lkfasses af new hnericans IneaIlt E;Ir Inare than patriotism, which had been ,Ilatthews's emphasis mcnty-five years earlicr, Frances Alim Kciler, an advertising woman wkc~placed ads in the foreign-iarzwagc press, viewed advertising in the 1920s as a vital opportunity for social inngt-ation-and sales, Here is the pitch that she lnade to husinessmen, Inariry of them unaccustomed ta thinldng about newcomers as worthwhile targets for consu~~erism. Natiox-raX advertising is the great hncricanizer, American ideals and ilsstirurciions, law? order, and prospel-lty, have nor yet been
Consumerism, Amcricanis~~, and the Phasing of' Pqpglal- Czlltftr-e sold to all our imxnigrax-rts. Amedcar-r protfucts and star~dards of living have clot yet been bought by the hreigtl barn in hnerica, . . . If h ~ e r i c a n want s to combine business and patriotism, they slrould advertise products, industy and h e r i c a n instirutions in the hericaxz Foreign Lanpage press, That ~ f r a i nwould be reiterated by ma~lyothers ti-rrongkont the
For hnericans of ""alder stc;lck," that is, not recent iinmigrants, the interwar years witnessed a parallel but perhaps equally lucra~veplreizarne~-roi-r: the sale af i L h i s t o ~as" patriotic culture, Or, put differently aizd crudely, the hnerican past gat cornmodified during the 1920s aszd 30s. Bp the spring of r 92 2, the Sai"u~-li~tjt Evelzil?y Pmi" decided to devote a weekly sectiots to the sul~jcctctf coilceting Alnericana. The cofonial revival in home hrnisbitsgs and tlre decora~vearts clljo~yedconsiderable popular appeal by tlren, and it illcreased steadily over the next four decades, hfaxiry well-publidzed evel-rcscos-rtributedto this blend of consumerism and hnericanism: t lenry FordQurchase and restoration of the Wtayside Inn in Slrcfbuq Massachusetts; the opening of the American Wing of the Mctropuf itan i"ulrrseum of ht in s ~ +and ; the opening of tlre restored Colonial mTilliamshurg less than a decade later. First, tlre demand for reproductions of early h e s c a n furni~ure seemed to be insatiable; a i d it p e r s i s ~to this day ti~ougi-rit may l-rave peaked during the mast intexzse Cofd N7ar years, 1947-67. Secaxzd, slavish copjes af WxltimSkurg homes appeared picmrially in iadies" mapzines and in solid reality in gcnnificd whurhs, Ilcrlce the home of C:eorge Wplre, who taught ?'hamas JeEerson law, would be reproduced in ptaces like Scarsdale, hTew York; and the U.S. Ernl-tasv in t lelsinki would be an adapted replica of ai-rother N5llianrsburg residence, '2"tle elite bought origbals whiie the middle class acquired reproductions The taste ethic was the same, however. Coioniai revival A m e r i ~ ~ nreigrzed a srtpfcr~re,'~ In 1933 a mas""ie survey of hnerican sociey and cultural trends, commissioned by Ifresident Elerbert I Toover four years earlier, surnrnarized in higl~typositive ways xnar-ry af the developxnents that have been described in this cf-rapte~ A. toi-rg sectior-r devoted to """t'lzeArts in Sociaf Life" "included a segrnent eiltittcd '%rt a d Business." k ~tnotcd that national advertising exerted an irnmediatc influence rhro~~ghout the conntrq.: ""milIjons see its work as agajnst thousantls who visit
mtlscums and exhibitioxrs." " f i e essT proudly pn3claimccS that ever sincc rgzo art had become ""an active factor in our l3usiness life," A special acccllade was aimed at the proliferation of rnurals that now beaurified h e r i c a despite their commercial stimuli. ""Nor so long ago," the author cxptained, ""there was little to see in mural painting in America outside the Library af Cor-rgress and the Boston l)ul,lic Library. "%day there are admirable examples all aver the ctJuntv, nearly all of them directly a ~ r i t ~ u t a kto~ the e advertising value of a harrdsome trmk or ofice building or depatment store. A trend which at least in part touches illdirect advertising is the consci:iousattention to the arclritecmre aild surroundings of manufacturing plants,'"'" 'l"ke British historian J. 11, I'lurx~bhas a b s e ~ ~ that e d ""prsonal awnersl~ipof the past has always been a vital s t m d in the ideotou of all rulirrg ~ l a s s c s , "The ~ sc,cial and cconumic elite in the Utrited States controlled interpreratic>nsas well as visions of lristor?y.during the first two tlrirds of the twentieth centLrry. Consequently, the Alnerican past became a carefully filtered part af popular culmre, yet entered mass culture only parllially, belatedly, and then marripulativc1y.i" By the beginning of 1942, w11en the Utritcd States became hlfg engaged on the side of the Arlies in L"Jorld War 11, manipulation of patriotisln by the governcnent--rat1gi11g fro112 the sale of war bonds to tke disserninarion of propaganda postt"r and the mol-rilizadon of 1101lywood studios to make a n t i - k s Alms-owed much to advertising and public relations techniques that Lrad been refined ever since the ~ g ~ o s .Back " in 1915, Watter Lipprrlar~rlhad related patriotism in a direct, ur~conlplicated way national prestige ar~dpride. Three kcades later the linkages lratl become more complex hecause they owed a great deaf to the sophisl-icated commercialixatio~lof popular culture that emerged in the years following \Vorld m7ar X,* Robert K. 1\ferton9sintex-rsive,quai~~titative and clwalitati~reanalysis of a war bond drive co~~cfucted orr the radio fly Kate Smith in I ~ W only prilvicfes a basis for comparison with Creel's less immediate, less personalized i(l:ommi~eeon Public Information (19I 7-19), bur anticipates the full impact of nationwide netwtlrk radio on mass cultures60 * I n Frank Cajwa fifrhns made during &c Inter ~ g p s ik~lcricanisnl , illcant "&c rewards of social srabitiy-weal&, success and the girl for the hero; fellctts7ship, Ilappiness and tnlsmorthy Ieaciers for the rest of m, It was a religious faith in a secular social myth that Eoruld its enlt~oditncncin ltatriotisnl and ihnerican dcrr~ocracj~.~ Roberr Sklar, d % I e - . % I d eApter-t~v:A (irn!tldfa@/ Hts~utyofAmer-t~v:ulz*%Iaz.tt*.r(New Ykxrk, 1075)~ 212,
Consumerism, Amcricanis~~, and the Phasing of' Pqpglal- Czlltftr-e If-\the decades foitwing the war, film companies and sul~secluenttp televisitrn wcl-rttl increasingly be regarded as chroniclers of contemporary history. "I'he route from the monthly newsreel of the tlrirries and is by no forties Tbe iMn.rch of* Time to 0livt.r Stone's 7Fl-Cand AWie~on means direct, but the commercial preser-rtatior-raf national ancl internatior-ral events fed a hunger that grew refendesslp from the 1930s ctr~warct.'Ib a lesser degree, yet surely sigr-rificant,we havc in the realm ctf popular culture successfill books t l ~ a earl t he called instant historq~, series ranging from "I'heodore IT, n%ite$ ~Vnkiii?gc$ the I3~-eside~zr (I 96r-7 3) to ZTitrmanMailer's Amies of'tlJe AWight:W370"cy as Novel, t-he~ V ~ v e Hi.eory l 61968). hnerieana had become, as never before, a simultaneous coxnpanent of mass x~zdpopular calmre-powerful testimony to the fact that one ifid not suppiant the other. They coexist, atheir:with tines of demarcation that are Xess and less disti~-rct." By the middle of the twentieth cenr-uq, as Jackson Lears lras remarked, the cssellce of tlre Amel-lcan Way of Life had slrified from an arnbipaus populisrn during the E y 30s to categorical affirmatiox~sof free cx-rterprise.What rernained fia"ail-Lyconstant was a pemaGve belief in natjot~alrrniqueness and homogeneity sustained bp the worldfiighest sandard of living, 't:'hiat degree of aHuence, underpinr-red by capitalism (elevated on a pedesal of ideatczm if not religioll), pervaded postwar social though and helped to pave the way for macs culture as we know it.''
Transition-and I. ('rclqirrg. Pe2rr:~p lions
in Its Prirne Clr lfro.cll Sl r-ril!'l;'crdl iorr
Popuiar ctllnrrc. in manifold forms has txen a prtrlnine~lrtpart of the human experience for quite a long time. It developed in the h e s c a n colonies among wngregations of the fiairhful atld at seasonal festivities, at taverns and inns, in \rernacular soizgs and superstitions. During the past cer-rtury, howevem; the phrase ""ppular crxlmre" has increasingiy mcarlt very cfifferent thirlg to different pecrple, partially because it has been invc~kedin such diverse ways-sctmctirnes wi t i ~populist affirmatitill hut oken with snirM~ishdisdain.' From the particular perspective I of tl-ris book, it is lrelpful to pin the matter ~ C ) W I Pchr~n~Lt~gically: c o ~ z t e ~that ~ d popular culture el-rjoyed its mast fiaml~oyantIrre~idaj~ during the half cenmmy that followed the mid- r 880s. In order to make that ctaim perswasive, I must cf car away a tar-rgletf briarpatch of misctmceptions. But let me begin in a scl-rcmaticyet historically Illformed manner: %%%ydr9 I designate tlre period, rouglrly from 1885 1935, as an era when popular culture was in its prime in the United States? First, because it was during this period that a i-ratable growth of teisure time ocmrred. Second, because tile commerciafization of cts-gsnized entertainment reached a arhoie new platea~rpreviously U I I ~ I ~ ~ J Mrfhird, ~I~. t9ecausc ix-rnt-vations in trar-rsporeatiot~and ~CC~IEICIIogy made it possible for clltrepreneurial amusemellts to reach audiences on an expanded scale. b u r t h , because a gratiual repudiation oP the ge~~teef tradition created opparmni~esfor modes of social behavior and interactior-r that would have been unthinicable to most ~niddie-
ctass Alnericans in the agc of Victorian polite cr;liture, Ekh, because the distinctiveness of re@onal and l a d lifcsr?~lesstill retained enough strengh to resist the powerhll surge of bos-crogenizatimlthat accompa-. nied what so many people in tlre later 1920s referred to as ""standardization," And sixth, because tile pema4ve manifestatioxzs of popular culture in that era rernained largely participatoay and interactive, based upon certilin modes of scrciahiliry. that I~eganto Fade in the ifecades Ftiliowing W r i d War If when mass culture as we know it emerged fully and sttburdinated popular culture by supl~lantingor else overwhelming much of it and the11 repticating it for audiences on a ~zumericat scat e previously uni~~~agined. If these six criteria Eor dit%erendatioi-rare vat id-though t as-rticipate that some critics will surely dispute them--then why is tl-rerc so much confitsitrn associated with this perpiexir-rgsubjcct"r4 part of the answer i-cray he found in casual cotlcepttlal usage, as we saw in chaprer I. Parr of the explanation can ~ L s c ) be found in the clrronolczgid untidiness that is inherer-rt and inevitable in historical incluirv; 13apuXar and mass culture did not appear in a neat sequer-rce;they overlapped in time 11y as mwh as a gcneration,;it~1 intend to show here and in &apter 7 t~elc~w. Rut their overlap is most noat~feand therehre ctificrrrlt to disent.;lngle drrrillg the 1g3os and "OS, a time of transition &at I prefer to designate as the pivotal era of proto-mass culture, whose characteristics X will say more about in the third section af this chapter: 'f'lze roots af Inass cuft-ure, as we have noted eartier, were most certainly pregnt at the beginning of the twentieth centurqP; but it takes time for roots to nourish st-urcty organisms that not only grow to maturiv, t9ut do so with su%cient vigczr rhat other organisms are either erowdect out or else eclipsed in the slradc>\vscast by W& vigczrous new species, That a ~ z a l o useems especially well suited to the historical reladoxzship l~etweenpajlular 2nd mass culture during the latter half of the twentieth cetltuv. A secczsld cause for confusioll arises from the fact that we lrave had in commnn usage fC)ra long time nclw two sets of terms that get metded togeti~ercasually, cvexx though they really are ~zotinterchangeal>le. I L-rave in mind mass, papufar, and elite cuft-ure as one s a l e of measurement, and towl~roa;middlebrw, a d highljrcrcv as the second, There ctcariy are ix-rstances,it is trtte, where mass culture and lowbrow taste coincide, but I insist quite strenuously that as the m-entieth century progressed, close correspondence bem-een the m-o ""sales" "ctil~~ished,
FSight9n3ws and midcflebn~wsnot c.)~-rfg consume mass culture; in cmclat ways they are also ix-rdividuatlyinstrumcnal in creating new ix-rnovations in mass ctrlture, 130puiar culture, in turn, has y7irofoundly influenced modern art, especially in some of its more avant-garde maz~ifestations.And at one time a r another so-called middlebrows L-rave been avid caxzsumers af all three cultural taste levels: Inass, paputar, and elite. I may .c\-at& the Super I E c ~ w lfaithfrllly h r three decades; go t~fltilecollnty fair each p a r to hear bluegrass mwic; but also listen with rapt 3tten"Eion to baroque music played on period instruments. * I he diversiv of our tastes lras nor been well served. (c~rexplained) by the extensive litany of terminological options that we use. A. third source of cox~fuslox~ might be called ideologicai. Nrriters a d critics who disiikt: or disapprt~veof middlehrw or mass atltllre will use those labels explicitly and pejoratively; W i t e r s and critics who have a positive atdtude toward such taste levels, however, are more likely to desigslare 3s p~)pularctrlrure, or even folk culture, what 1 mean by mass cufmre, John Fiske, for example, one of our leading aut-izoriPopzities a n Inass culture, tides his book a n the suZ>iect U~fdertrta~zdillg. lrrr C'i~Itrrre( I g89), and shifts tile levemgc of agej-rq from succcsshlty manipdative commerciaiizer to clever conwmers, 'rhe creativir-~rof popular ctrlrure, he i~ssists,"lies nor in the production of cornmodides so muclr 3s in the productive use of industrial commodities, T h e art af the people is the art af balling do.? "l"ke culmre af evemyday life lies in the creati~re,discriminadng use of the resources that capitalism prtrvides.""" Our terminolc.)@calmenu has also txen extet-rdecf by the widely used phrase ""vernacular culture," wlriclr may or Inay slcst be 3 euphemism for popular culture, mass ctrlrure, or even folk culture, M1 that we can say with assurarirce is that tiernacular does lilot mean elite or L-rigL-rbrow. It does impfy something ~zativeor distinctive to popular taste, such as eve~~rdasp, ordinary tanpage, or a style of arehiteemre ifisrinctive to a particxiar class of people in a specific region, M e n that is the case, vernacular conveys a lneaning quite different from popular or mass culture-it suggests sornetlring closer to folk-yet there has been a texzdency simply to blend it with popular a r mass culture, however inappropriate, 'rhe complexities and limitations of at1 these labels are easily illuminated. How should we categorize what happens when Aar01-r Gopiand takes a tradil-ictnal Shaker tune and works it into a haunting melody t-
callecf ""Single Gifts" for Appuit~&z"~y2 Sp4-irtg ( I g#), a melociy sutlseqtlcntly played on the concert stage and most rttmousfJI"as the &erne for the pres~gious"IT documentay series CBLTRepolqs-a melod~fso widely recognized that many listeners who know norhing about tihakers a r C o p l a ~ ~can d hum it perfectlyXIlow do we categorize the career af Leanard Bernstein, a man wha helped yourig peopfe understand and enjoy classical music, who composed thc score br the film On fhe Wla$e~frcj/zt and for West .%de IT;tzll";y, and also wrote a mass? H X ~do W we categorize mTilliamI'aulkner when The Soarzd and the F t ~ (yI 9 2 q), Tbe Rehem (I 962), and lS~z~icturrr~ (I 93 I ) could conceivably be designated when they first appeared as L1igI1brow, middlebrow, and lowbrow, respectivelyYE'hc solutios-r lies in Duke EIlingtong favorite phrase, "'Beyr~ndC a t c g o ~ . " ~ Berl~apsthe singie most important tesson to be learr-recf from the history (of cultural stradfication in the United States is that disti~sct taste levels have indeed existed, yet tlrey have been permeable and increasingly subject ta l>eing shared across limies of class, race, and dcgreemf ecfuca tiion. From Van Wyck Broaks in 19r g to Lawrence \V, Lcvine in rg88, a series of distinpishcd obsemers has insisted upon the unattractive presence of culmral hierarchy in America, most noahfy for two full generations starring in the I 870% They argue persuasively tlrat ordinay folks were discouraged or driven away fri-rtm theaters, concerzs, and museums, which is undenia"uy What afsa has to be remembered, L~awever,is that that time span is exactly when so max-ry alternative modes of cr-rtertair-rmenttrecame available to the middling and working classes--an array of leisure-tim options from amusement parks to concert saloons, from vaudeville to silent film, frrom sheet music for communal simging to organized sports. 'E'hcre was even a new assortInent of museums with much broader appeal than places like tile lxetropofitan lkfuseum of Art in Manlsattrtn, Tlse crucial point, tilcret'ore, is that the emergence: of mltural stratification did not teave ordinary hxericans with nowhere to go in search of pleasure, Their new cjptions cost less, were cotlsiciered more fun and better suited to their educational levels tlran the more elitist entertainments and edi6eations that did not exactly welcarne the great ul-rwashed wit11 apen arms. 'f'hat is yet another reason why paputar cultore AourishecS as never before ar-rdwith greater vcrricty between 1885 and 1035.' Quite a few cultural clltrepresleurs recognized early on that more
mot-reycould be made pn~vidinginexpensive amtxsements for the many than by contriving ccrstly &versions for tile few. E, %. C. JII~SOII, who created dime novels and tvestern ncsvelettt-tesas "hTedBuntline," wrote to a friend in 1885: "I found tlrat to make a living I must write 'trash' for the masses, for he who endeavors to write for the critical few9and do his gc14usjustice, will go hung^ if fie has no other means of support,'"9ly the turn of the centurqp, inevitably, some ei-rtreprencurs invested in producing cheaper imitatior-rs af what the etitc wanted, thereby demonstrating that the perception of ctrlmral lrierarchy was indeed derived from reality. A sarcasde observer relnarked in 1900 that "cuft-urine is a gyical hnerican product of the presex-rt d a y . . . fndicatios-rsare that in the 1.7emynear future it will becosne fully as popular and costly as tile genuine articte which it was originatly cfesigned to imitate, C:t~lturix-remay he dcscribccf as a substat-rccthat bears the same reJatj01-r to cult~rrethat velveteen does to velvet, oleomargarine to butter, or plush to seafsl;in,"" 'l"ke terrns ""bghbrow" and ""lawrow" "del-ived frarn the midKctorian 6ascinado1-rwith cranial capaciv, a curiouslj~racist outloolc that equated or-rewith high inteltiger-rccar-rct tke other with vcoy limited mc~-rtaXatliliey, IGfwarct A. Ross, a Progressive sociolc.)@st,pcrpctuatccf such notions well into tlre mentieth century when he published The ClId WorLd in the AWra* I g 141, in whiclr Ire ascribed a lowbro\v menb1it-y to irnmigar-rts from Eastern Europe, It is ~ioteworthjr,L-rowever, that L-rigL-rGrowsdid i-rot invariably enjoy an a u p s t stams during the first half of the wcntieth w n m v when tile sacralization of c-crtture is supposed to l-rave been most potent and 1owhrow ctdture despised. A I r) I 5 editorial in Sc.r-ilmi./--klamented that no highbl-ow could possibly write a best-seller; and that same year Van Wyck Brooks complained t l ~ aboth t brow levels were ""equally undcsil-abte, and they are incompatible; but they divide American life t~emeenthem," "'2'h"eelitist stance taken l ~ y Waltcr Lippmann in s p o was unusual, American artists and .c\-riters, he remarked, ""are not t~eingmffocated I1y the perfection of the past, but by the scorn of excellence in the present. . . . mTehave a public opinion tlrat quakes before tlre word lrigl~browas if it denoted a secret sin.""" By midcer-rturythe public perception of higt-rbrowswas in confused ifisan-ay ar-rdcommonly cynical, wl-tether one looked at photo-essays in Lifie magazine or comments by the likes of Lioncl 'fi-illing in Pl~r~isdlr Keuiew. It did nor help that Adlai Stevenson"r;residential candidacies
in 195t and 1956 poplliarizcd the image of an eggi~eadas someone too cerebral to be et"tkctive in the so-called real worid. Even hi$hty creative and inteltecmal indiv_iduals,such as writers, cultural critics, and pec~ple in theater or the arts, were more likely to identi+ themselves as uppermiddlebrow. "E'hat label seemed ta have better connoations of being a izarmal, hnctianal huxnan being. Few people ather than academics were likely to iderltifj themselves as highbrows without emharrassmcjlt or self-consciousness. Outside c~facademe the dominant perception of: highbrow was a person wlrose exjistellce and effort made no difference in the world. Ezra Pound put it blttntly in r g p : "The highbrow can't pass, haw any irnrxrcdiate effect on the mass;.'"" 'l-here is iza lack of evidence that culhzral stratifieadon and entrerlched perceptions of it persisted throughout the first half ctf the Kacfio had a Red Nemork menricth centuay, III the eariy r93o"BC that aired popular entertai~~ment and a Blue =tTemorkwhich featured Inme refined and sopllisticated progral-crs. T h e I-"@~~is~ln Review crowd made sharp distinctions when discussing content for the journal: painting was high art, theater was ~niddlettrow~ and the mot4es were low19n3w. In 1937 the young O ~ S ~ JW'elles II took &"Tar BRlitzstei~l's pn3-labor opera 7be Grgdje WiII Rock to Bethlehem, I"ex-rx~sy.itv;zxlia,in order to perfc~rmfor the fiactory workers there, Only two hundred showed up for tlre opera, which featured a strike set to music, 7'he bulk af Bethlehem's labor force opted for a steel cornpaizy picnic that had been deliberately arrairged to compete with the apera. 'f'lze workers preferred surlshine and beer. Tsste levels in b a d dso re~3;firledstratified by class and ecfu~~tjon."' I fie witty ptaywrright S. J, 13eereIm11(1904-1979) did not want to be remembered as a mall wlro wrote scripts fez :tifarx Brothers movies, \VIiy? Because they were lowbrow. t f e hoped to achieve lasting recagizitio1-r instead as an essay,ise for The N m Viorker aizd as a successh"ul writer of Broabay- plays, 190th of which he regarded as uppermidcftct~row.'rhe great irotly c~fX1)erelman'scareer js that hc delighsccf readers with lris zany but cerebral prose, yet rarely satisfied his employers, Mter Perelrnan co-aurbored tlre screenplay for iWonkl._y Bz~giuerssin x y 3I , C;roucI'ro lwasx co~nplainedthat Perelman's humor was tao literary and convoluted for a popular audies-ree,'l"hat began a tifclong debate between the two friends &out whether or not scree11 comedy could afford to be "intelligent," 'I'i~eproducer Mike 'lad,on the cjther hand,remarked in the rgjos that Peretman "'wl-tes great diaF
%
tape, t9ut it's strictly M m Vorkef:T h e circulatjot~c~fThe *Vez;.Erker- Is three l~undredand fifty t i ~ o ~ ~ s aInwant d . this picture [A~.clurrrt the Wm-lci i~ Eigbg 1>1zy.r]to he seen by over a hundred miilion," "I'hat anecdote is sft~mptomatic of the digereace in scale that entertai~~ment people envisias-rcd when ti~eydistinpished 11emeer-r popular and mass culture: L~u~ldreds af thoufasirds al.:"custosners" versus hundreds of milliox~s." h r i n g the rgjos W5lt Disney developed ats adoring cult following for his cartocrrls, and tllen b r his featnre-lengh anirmatecl films, such as S~iowmite irrzd the Setten L)-&#@ and (in the forties) Barnhi. But when he released Flzrrt~zsiiain r 94.0, it turned out to be, despite lris heretofore unbroker-r string of huge box office successes, a commercitlf failure, "E'he crowds Lie had become acclrstorned to stayed away because the sound too highbrow. For most hncricans that reviews made F~BLIISZ"~ was a pejorative desipatitrn. &lore t11a17 half a centuT later, evidence still ilsdicates tlrat stratification has nest e n ~ r e l ydisappeared, even t h u g h it is much diminished. Shelly C;arrett, the most successful impresario al.:the ChitZin Circuit (popular touring theatricals aimed at an African-herica1-r audies-rce), has never met A u p s t Nrilsor-r, tile most illustrious black playright of our time, W7ilson, in turn, 11ias never heard of Shcity Garrett! AS Henry Lrjuis Gates, Jr., puts it: """T"heyare as unacquailsreb wiclr each other as art and commerce are said to bes'"' What we have seen thus far suggests that culturat L~iel-archycertainty persisted on ti~raughthe I ~ ~ Oand S , that more than mere traces remain to this ctay. Mthc~ughpc~pufarand mass culture t9ccarne increasin& difficult t r ~diEerentiate, the career of S. J. Perclman, along with numerous otlrers, indicates that disdnctions between them remailled quite clear in the milsds of rnally frttm tlre 1920s well past midcentuy. The isolation of highbrow pursuits along with a papulx akrers-i~nto L~igL~braw culture tingered even longer. But we sirced to take a cfoser took at popular ct:lxtturcin its ha1tyo1-rdays, 1885 to the eve c~fWorld War II, because more than Mike 'li>dd5s optimal audience size s c p rated popular from mass culture, tlraugh that numel-lcal distinction is hardly inconsequential,
In my view3 one of the most basic diEerences between popular and mass ct~lrurehinges upon the more partidy~ator?y. and ilsrreractive qmli-
ties of the former in contrast t ~ the r more spectattrriai and passive qnalities of the latter. The curzir-~u.rtis not klte~z~ied lt, be ~ Z ~ S O ~ E X Gt ;CE~~P. Z P Zbe, Q~ And quite arguably mass ct~lrurehas recently become more interactive, at least in key respects, than it was during the ~ g s o s %OS, , and 70s. (More on that later.) I also believe that local and redonal k-rriations gave p o p l a r culmre dul-;ingthe first half of tire mei-rtieti~c e i - r r n cer~ tain ider-rtitjabfe characteristics that t9ecarnc considerably less apparent in the second half. In sum, p o p l a r d w e recluired a greater degree of personal engagement by individualst atld il-litiativeas well*People were more likely to take themselves to places of entertainment, rather tlran privately receiving efectror-ricentertainment in their homes. 'ITkerefore popular cufhzre meant being in public spaces and pfaces to a greater ifegree proportionately than mass culture does. Thc lattcr is more tikeiy to occur in a residential place with attenticm foctlseci on a teievision set, a screen for home movies, or increasingly and most recently a computer: -. I hese comparisoxls are necessarily aapproxirnate rather than categorical, and tirere is a consideral~leamount of coindding c h r o n o f o ~ ~ most noably ";or a qu';~rtercentllry starting in the mid-thifiies. NC"verthefess, the disrinctions enable us to make a start in attempting to understand how the uses of leisure in I 890 differed qmlitarively as well as quandtarively from 1940 and then, let us say, firlm 1ggo.7'he qualitative and the quantitative aspecB of experience are not so neatIy coxnpartme~~talized either, t ~ ythe way. barereas the vast Cotuxnbicln Exposition at Chicago in 1893 was a relatively anonjqnous, impersonal, and spectattrriai e ~ ncat t least within the White CXty as opposed to the bustling :Midway Plaisance outside the enclosure), state and county fairs at that rirne provided more engaging and parricipamr). activities. As A1ar-r "fiacirtexzberg has ~zoted, tfre White City was designed "in the mode of tileatricaf displajr?of spectncle, . . . Visitors to the Fair f o ~ ~ nthexnsclves d as spectgt0l.J; witnesses to an rmar-rswerable performance which they had no hand in producing or maintaining."" IIere we have an antidpation of what mass culture would i~screasingiy offer more than half a centuy later. IT'har is wl-ry I prefer to call the Calurnbia~~ 1;xpositiaxl proto-mass cuft-ure, it was an astos-rishing but early harbinger of things ta corne, 'I'he most Gmiliar h r m s of poputar ~ v t m r eduring the late nineteenth and early mcntieth ccnatrics ordinarily traveled from or-re city to tl-re next, which meant tlrat cclmlnunities literally invested themI
selves in preparing fbr exciting even& that were high spots on the anx-rual calendar, such as the day (or days) when the circxs came to town, &%en 13. "1: Barnrrsn began to use railroads in 1881 to make his circus more mobile, it could reach a greater sn\rml,er of communities more quickly, Circus day became a 1.7emyspeciaf occasioxz whexz people af all ages and cfasses gatizered together to watch ~zotmerely tile performance itself I ~ uevery t step from rinloaditlg to ~ettingup to participaticm in the ineGnbte commtlnicy cleanup that fiilloarcd the circus's ciiepmum. Circus-time retained that spellhjntling mystique for many kcades, and restless youngsters yeal-sled to rzrn away and join the circus. ft had a uniclue allure. 'l"ke success of Buffalo Bill's Wild N7est Show starting in the mid1880s ex-rdured for almost a clwarter af a centru9, and prompted the emergence ctf countless other Wild W'est shc~wsthat achieved much less acclai~nbut reached tlre smaller communities wlrere most h e l - l cans stilt lived. 7'he same was true of minstrel shows, wlriclr by the 1880s ancl ~8gos,the wa~zirzgpl~aseof tizeir papulariv, meant more generalized ex-rtertainxnent than the raucous and radalfy caricamred performances of the antebellum period when the rnixsstrel show had its gcl-resis, Burlesque, vcrudeville, and musicat ~ G V U C Swere starting their climb to widespread. popularity as the new centuy opened, gradualy supplanting the Wild West and millstrel shows as top attractions.I4 Less orgai-rized and schexnaGzed but eyuaiXly entrepreneurial were the amusernex-rt parks that began ta open during the 1890s and flourished rrntit the 1940s. C:o~-rcy fsfand in Brookiyn is merely the most fagnc~usof these. But when electric trrrjley lines appeared early in the mentie& century all across the United States, traceon colnpanies paid by the month for the power that energized their trolleys. Because they ~zeededto ALL their trofXej~son the weekends when maIzy fewer people used them ta go to work, tizey t~uiltwhat were called "trolley parks" at the end of the lines on the edge of the city Those parks became magnets for bmilies, but esl~ecidlyfor ycjlrng adults u4-m wanted to escape paresltal supervision. Many of the events at these places of amusement were participarory and int-eractive, ranging fim competitive feats of strength to l~ittingthe clown's Gate wit11 a hurled ball and wiming a prize. Amusement parks were pfaces to see and be seen, !jut also places to go, cfo, compete, and meet perrplc, especialty young people, who might othewise be inaccessible. Hencc the poigrlant but bitterweet nostalgia of the snusical Cgb*ofj.reIf first performed iir the ~ g ~ p s . "
3. -li,e.v&j~ Ez*etzi)a~g at the"I(inz~q~~ Bi*r/l~-oon-r ( I 930) by Reginalct IMarsh (tempera on pa~lel)
Saloons sewed rnally hncdor-rsduring the tater ninetee~-rthcet-rtuv,
anci not just as places fclr imbiking alcoholic beverages. 1"otitical activities and patronage transactians occurred there, as wefI as the organization of community assistance for those in need. '['he social ctynanucs of salooi~life are indispensabfe to an understanding of what was most distinctively p a r t i c i p t o ~about pupuiar culture in its prime, From providing a venue for playing cards to planning for the next IocaX elcctior-r, saloons were a major foctrs of commurnitry life, despite the disapproval of Car7 hTatiojnand the kVc1mam5 Christian lkrnperance Union starting in the r 8y0s."~ h o u n d l y l a , just as saloon culture was starting to decline in respect;l.kility,target- hericcln citics began t-o show a rapid increase in the number of dance halls, "fhe so-cailecf ""taxi-dance halls" h d been associated wiclr vice and the availabiliy of sexual services; but the newel; brighter commercial dance kdls were perceived as a relativefy safe enl~ironrne~~t in which to meet strangers away from the p+ng eyes of chaperones. C)l~viausZy;tile principal activity at dance fialls could not have bheen more participatoty a d interactive. (See fig. 3.) 111
small-tcrwn h c r i c a , eve17 in the heartland where churches exercisecf considcrat9fe power over social mores, sqrrare dar-rcix-rg and x-rewer forms of social dancing etljoyed i m e n s e populariv straighr through the age of swing in the later 1930s and World War I$." Cabarets did zzot meet wit-h facat approtral in smaller commurinties; but in large dties they provided an intimate space that encouraged performer-cust~~~ner interaction, (.:ornedians recruited or assimilated unsuspecting memhers of the audience into their aca, Singcrs cirmlated among tlre tables, nzaii~lyi i ~order to increase their tips but thereby bringing the audience inro greater contact with the performer." 'lTkiswas also the takeoff time for 'l"in Pan Alley the commercial source ctf new popular music widely disseminated through the sale of inexpensive sheet music, hround I 885, music pd~lisi-rel-shad begun tcr produce sheet lnusic for lrome use; and by tlre turn of the centut-y; piancss started to be mamrrfiactured in large lumbers and at aEordat9le prices, so that increasing ~zumbersof people could play and sing at L-rome, I3rior to the advent of radio and clwality phonographs, parchased sheet music meant someone playing the piano while others gathered around to sing, or perhaps even dance, In rural h e r i c a corn~nrmalsinging became at1 itnmetlsely popular p""ti'~e, especialty at church suppers but in rotally secular setrii~gsas well," By the 1920s a~znualproduction of phoi-rograpI~ rose dramatieatly, but the quailir-y of their sound was stiil Izat w r y good. Between 1905 m"Ctf920Rjifly Sundaj~sped athletically out of Iowa and became the most popular urban evax-rgclist in Arnericar-r historq. prior to Billy Ckaabam. S ~ ~ n d arequired y tlrat a special tabernacle be built in every city where Ire conducted a revival; and, cqmlly important, L-re insisted upon interactive cooperatior-r among all tile churches co-hasting his stay in a particular city. I Iis revivals were notably participat")~ became every member of his ad hoc ccmgregation was urged tcr "hit the sawdust trail," that is, make a decjsio~~ for Christ, walk forward to the stage, and slrake Billy Sunday's hhand, Moreover, his revivals provided a priiime example of broad-gauge callsumer ctrlture because at the back of the tabernacle commercialized relig_lox~ran amuck: sales of tracB, signed photographs of Sunday9 revival memorat~ilia,gospel sheet music-the whole g m u t . Evangclid religicrn as popular culture was a thriving enterprise between the I 890s and the rgzos.'" I suspect that quite a sul-~stantialpardon of middle-class and aHuent A ~ ~ e r i cbad a very affirmative feelings about religious revivals and
church-related activities, but especially with the working class in mind. T h e Lyx-rds have a x-rotably striking ot9sen~atio11 that pertair-rs to "hficldletown" kern the 1890s through the ~ g j o s .One intemiewee told them that "it is desirable to spe~ldleisure p.~*ofitab&.""?"hrefsre, they coiiclude ""ttat group welfare is xneasured in terms of znoltey prosperity; and that tao ~ n u c hleisure for the kcornmon man?is to be feared as &leterions to his cttaractet- a d retarciiitlg to the welfare of the wholc T h e business class wanted to keep the working class occupied, decent, and orderly, Rereading ~WiddLerownalso semes as a healthy reminder that fri-rtm about 1910 u~itilthe 1930s the automobile was so much of a novelty that a popular and coxnrnolt leisure aceiviry for Inore affluent Axnericans was sitnpfg taking a local ride to x-ro particdar destination, Most " c ~ m m t ~men t ~ " and women could not a@c~rda car rrntiX wcll into the 1920s; but for those wlro could, the auto meant that two to six people l-cright enjoy an exui~eranrbinreracrive experietlce. Gcring some-cvhere l ~ ycar meant doing spanm1zeous thi~zgsalong the way h-rd autocamping l~eganto enjoy cor-rsideral~leappeal during the 1920s. 'l"ke numbers were not yet vast, but the venture was proactive and participatov. T h e Lynds also shc~wUS,perswasi.reIj~,tl-rat most ieisurc activities in l-criddfe America duritlg the r92os mok place in g n ~ u p qwith dancing and playing cards (especially bridge) toppiisg tlre list in terms of appeal. ta what d ~ e ycall the "business class," meaning the higher social echeloii. By 1926-27 movieping had begun to ~nalceseriotrs inrwads in attendance at tudges, salcw~tls,and utri0j-r mecti~-rgs." Despite these pet-ceptittle shifts in poputar culture, hc~wevet;the Lynds offer a w a r ~ ~ i nagaiisst g overemphasizing the nature and pace of change, T h e newer forms of leisure, they note, '"tnust be viewed against an uriderlyrng groundwork of folk-play 2nd Eaflc-talk that makes up a relatively less changing human tradition. 1Widdletowxi has atways delighted in taik. . . . Much of i t s leisure t i m it spends in tafking or listening to aik." And taik,uf course, is supremefy intct-active-unless it takes the form of a monologue. 13eople did listen to the radio quite a bit, especially by the mid-zgjos when most folks owned one, an aceiviry that has been described by ma~ty(though certainly ~zotall) scholars as passive." 'rhe Lynds\aXiusion to "folk-play," which may sound rather v a p e to us, is acmaily quite meaningftl. T h e sendirtg of valentines, for example, started to enjoy great popularity in the mid-nineteenth century, ?%%erncommercially pri~srredcards became availaljle, traditional-
ists voiced their criticism that ""CupicJ2s mmanufactory" was being negtected. They felt strc~i~gly t i ~ aautils-rtic t vaien tines should t9e handmade." pI'urs~ii~g to a very diBeferes~tillustration, Thanksgivis~gDay football games esnerged in the 1880s and 1890s as a ritual, swikly joined by the highly partlcipatoay 'l'hanhgibring Day parade prior to the game, It was local; it was not electronic; it had specutorial as well as interactive aspects. 'The pcrsistencc of regioi~aiism,both in reality and in marketing strategies, provides yet another sigslificant tliscitlction h e m e m popular and mass culture, Early i i tlre ~ mentieth centuy, for example, departmelirt stores, chain stores (such as they were at that time), and maiiorder L~ousesstarted to orgaiinze the fiow of large quantities of merchandise, 'They engaged in advertising on an rrnprecedented scale, yet even the targest department stores remained k~ndamei~taliy local or regional entities," Casual or light reading, an important aspect of popular ct~lrure,also undemezzt notable cha~zgesduring the late ~zineteerirthc e n m v partiafly owing to cha~zgesin tecl~iirolou,to Izew assumptions about coxnmt~nicationand its audiex-rces,and to the initial stirrings of enthusiasm For cciet~rit;r,(Pbufopkgy appeared in r c) r I, the first movie fan magazine,) As newspapers increasissgly became sources of enterta~nment ' as well as basic iisformatirts~at the turn of tlre c e n t u q decades behre the advent of radio and tetevisioxz, reporters developed much more t&ual and even audicov styles of writing that barely have any counterpart in poputar journalism today, In a sense they ar~ticipatedthe s p w t ~broadcaster 011 the radio during the 1930s and rg4m who had to recreate For his listeners an entil-e i~asehallgame otl the basis of limited information received by telegraph.'" As we have already xzoted, the ~zumberand accessibiflry of popular magazines increased dramatiea t ly during the first decades of the mezztieth centlrry. T h e Ik1'1;tsrrgtec-lDgi& LVealsbegan tcr appcar in :Vew York in rgrc), hamring largc photographs, short news stories written in punchy prose that emplrasized crime, sex, movies, and sports. T h e very first tabloids, tlre C~*~zbhic and the i1/1z'1-~0i; soon folfo~ved.But New York City was not represerirtati~reof the ~zationat large. Cozzsequexztly, these were tantalizing foretastes, but ~zotas yet the norm. Far from it. Be that as it may, accor(ti~lgto the advt?cates of reader response tl-rccr~ (and also what is catled appropriatiot~thec~ry),reading is not x-recessarily a passive a c t i v i ~especially ~ when popular literature is k i n g consumed, Richard Hoggart, A\rticl-relde Gerteau, Janice Radway, and
others havc insisted &at reaifers project ali sorts of personal ideas into what they read. "fhey dc-, more than simply receive and absorb messages, "I'hey invest themselves. 7'hat often appears to lrave been true in the United States."
I regard the 1930s as the pivotal decade because it was the last one wlren popular culture as I have defined it remair~edthe centerpiece of American social life-already encroached upon but not: yet supplanted l ~ ymass culture as we now h o w it. For the railge of reasoi-rs wily I believe that is tmc, let us continue for a Inament with reading. One of the Lyilds' most intriguix-rg discoveries when they revisited LCluncic, Indiana, during the Great Depression is that reading increased sllarply in hard tirnes, tisir~gvery precise cil-cutation fipres fczr hooks borrolved from the public libraries, they foulld &at pcr~pleread less during the affiuexzt menties and much Inare during the grim tl~irties.In part, of course, people read more when there is enforced leisure; but also, h ~ ~ r r ~ whooks i n g from the public lil^tr-atyis a free, or very lowcast, entertainmcrlt, Xn any case, pubtic lil.tr-aries plqed an erlhanced role in h e n c a n popular culture dunilg the rgjos." We also know that: pulp confession magazines enjoyed the peak of their papulariry during the E 930s. &foreover,the pulp formula proved so attractive and successhl that Inare ge~zteelmagazines sul~sequerttly picked it up and adapted it to the taste of their own readers. In Fete Sruv, ?"weC'o~$.rsions, F r a e Ro.macv/ce, T ~ IDetecrizje, L~ and then even in Efgrperhndi Atl;-rr.itrz'c~l/lonth& by the mid-hirdes, personal problernsolving became an appealing, higbly a~lticipatedstaple, 3hles 01; passias-r were paramount: romance, rape, ~nurdel; and revenge; but occasionally there would also be narratives with social as well as human interest, A prime examplc is Robert E. Burx-rsWIVIa Ftcgifz'vefi~nz a Gro~gI'aChrlin (;r7~1gI,which first appeared as a serial in Detective iyysteries in 193I and was partially based upon autlrentic doct~menrary material." 'l"ke Boolc-of-the-&font11 Club, created in xyz6 to increase consumer demai-rdfor t~ooksand fill a need caused by the pauciqr of bookstores in the United Spates, Cfistrit9uted prtrlnotionaj fitcr-atlrre that ctaimed getting and reading these carefirfly chctserl seiectiorls arould make a person more attractively interactive and tlrerefsre more partiieipatorq' in atly social settirrg. Just knowing about such important new
t~oukscould improw a pcrsor-r"r;putllic perforxnance, &tlorc.r~ver, the sut~scriherwo~lldeven become an actiw participant in shaping contemporary culture! CIritics of the club, 011 the other lrand, usually selfstyled highbrc~wswlro were appalled by tlrese kinds of attempts to commodi% tl-adit-ioxlal culture, declared that such schemes onty encouraged passiviq and were llound to cause a decline in taste among the readitzg public,i" Still other critics castigatecf book clut~sas wclJ as their cxstomers 01-r grounds that would become commonplace severat decades larer: contrilsut-ing to the daytsrardly phenomencsn of sandardizadol~,"""T'he reader who takes advaxltage of this inflovatioll in bookcsetling," one critic wrote, "wilt be adding to the process of standardization which has invacted every department c~fAmerica11 life," Henry Sciclef Car-rl~y~ chairxnan c~fthe Book-06th~-Mot-rth C:ltrbk sselcctior-r committee, offered a witlreritlg rebzrrral to anxious snobs who befieved that the United States was ""ling fed a sandardized education from standardized text-books 1ljr teacirers so sta~zdardizedthat a breach of the cont~eiltlo~ls of doctrine may lead to penatties." """Sandardized" became a favc~ritesmear word for those who disdair-rccf rnidctt chrow c~lmrc.,'~ T h e debate persistecf for decades, t ~ u without t any resofution. 'The advent of cctlnprehensive mass culture in the 1950s and %OS,lrcrwever, gave those whc, bathed st;7ndardizsdo11 a much larger target: lowbrows as welt as nucldlebrows. Other pronunent aspects of papufar culture during the thirties erzjo~redparticlllar attractiveness because ctf their iow-to-mjnimd cost, such as gardening, for example, which achieved great appeat ar-rd stirnulated the drama& increase in garden cfubs, primarily amerlg women, * I he passim for well-defi~leifhrhhies in the rgjos ranged from mahjongg at tile start of the decade to the jigsaw puzzle craze in x 9-32-34 (i time-consuming CaririXy pursuit-), to roller-shring and biqcling by 1933-34, t t ~ d i n g oat church socials, to hlclt-ropofgwhich Parker ix-rtroducccS in 1935, to col-rtractt~ridgc,to social dancing, dance marathol-rs and kssathons (to win money). As mTarren Suslnall lras summarized the era: "The ~ p j o was s $hedecade of participation and belonging."" Nrhen the Lynds retrisited ~Vuncic in the ~nid-thirties, they rernained very impressed by the thrking nature of club 111;:there, especially women's study ctrrbs, and by the fact that while club life was stratified, it tlid i n c l d e perrplc from ail vlraiks of lifk and social grcMrps. By 1935, mmewe"; tlre Communiy Fund made possible a wide range of athletic programs, a hrrbby shrrw? a dolt show7 a pet show9lrandit-
craks, group singing, and trail-ring in dramatics as well as theatrical prrrductions, Thc L p d s regretted that listening to the radio seemed to have supplarnted the extensive coxnmunal cinging that had once characterized assorted social occasions and t"2mily reu~~ions. Llilrtnciehad very few radios in 1925, mazzy more by 1930 (46 percent of all hornes), and rzea~samrationby 1935. Xhey concfuded that ""radio is now almost entireiy a passive form of leisure in &3idctletown," "lore recent studies mggest that fly the fater thirties khuxscrie was highly represen~ativein that respect.'" Nevertheless, perceivhg and defining the role of radio in hxnerican cultural life is exceedingly elusive, in part t~ecausethe medium's reach as well as the tiariabfe respar-rses it generated char-rged so swiftly. Natior-rat x-remorks did emerge-NKC in 1926, CRS two years fater, and k1umaI in the rnicJ-~g~~s-jTetpurely local statior-rs contir-rued to thrive during tlre 1g3os and even the ~gqos.We know that by 1930 radio reached about twelve million homes, yet there is no consensus whether that f i p r e seems modest or impressive. \Ve do lcxzow that sales of radios dropped precbpitoudy during the early thirties and that the advent of cheap radios, aBc2rdabte fly almost everJrtrrle, did not occur until the mid-thirtics. Even more import-ax-rtfrom our perspective is tlre colltested issue of passive listening versus acrive engagement. One partisan wlro wrote for radio during the 1930s and "0s offered this perspective: """l'hething that p u were able to achieve in radio was involvement. Pardcipatior-r,Because you didn't have all the pieccs to the puzzle, "I'hc person coming to the radio set l-rad to bring sorne of the pieces tro fill in."34 hs we have just seen, hrnwcr, not everyone agreed, :ti]Ioree,ver, the first ever taped program 011 ncm-ork radio did not occur until 1946 (Bing Crasbjr's PbiIco Rgdio Ti~~te).), h1ly a cluarter cerzmry after radio began. So lor-rgas radio rernained live, it offered a sense ctf inrirnacy particvlarly if the prrrgl-am had a live audiej-rec,which was comxnon u11til well aker Wtsrld War II, X3espite the sheer size af the listening audience, live broadcasts created at least an illusioll of imi1-cr2cy:the voices were speaking TOYOU in your home. That feeling kept radio at least partially within the realm of popdar culmree3' By 1935 a large number of radio statio~zswere affiliated with n a t j o ~ ~nemorks, d One cannot avoid acknc~wledgingthat a k e fikeen years radio had kccome, at the very least, a prcrtw~nass~ v t m r epl-renomencsn, k%Tecan speci$ in partricular ways how irs irnpera~vesdiffered &om those of popular culture, A touring vaudeville routilse was
good for a year; the perforxners repeatccf the same acts in or-re piacc after another. A single radio program, by contrast, was obsolete aker one performance. (Summer reruns developed later and became cause for complaint,) h d the perceived passivity prompted by certain radio programs rnarked yet another element in its preview of rnass culture, A 1938 advertiserne~~t in Lije for listening to radio stressed its conlrenience became the listener could spay at home and enjay a pia). rather than going out to a theater, hear an archestrra without going to a concert lrall, or listen to a religious service without lraving to dress for church or see anyone. The advertrisernent emphasized. cc>llvenient inertia arzd the absence of human interactiox~as tiiirtrxes of radio."" "l'he clairns of ad\rertising, however, did not coindcie with everya~-re'sactual expericncc. In such a targe and hetcrogenec~ussodey, mot-roiithic responses to r~atiot~atly accessible mccfia wo~uidhave been improbable. """Thereal split in movie audiences," wcording to nrrmerous critics, ""was not bemeen mass and class [lowbrows and the elite] but bewee11 xctiue and pgssizfe tixewers. 'l"ke active viewer saw?took in, responded. Wi-retherhis final reaction was pleasure or disgust, he knew hc. had been tkrougl-r ajmetl-ring. 'I'he passive v i e ~ ~ responded er with nothing."*" Clearly, one's lperspeetive 011 the advent of mass culture and the degree of interaction it inspked tlepencis on where a person is situated in t h e , By the end of the ~yqos,oi>\iiiousty,radio did not stand alone wit11 its large ancl growing audiet~ce,Cinema enjoyed imrnense poputarity also, and so did syi~dimtedcomic stl-ips: Ruck Rogers (rgsg) in scicr~ccfiction*Rtlickey Mouse and Blondic in rgjo, I:il Abner (1934)~ Donaild I3utl.k (1936)~and tlren 78rzan, Little Orplran Arsnie, the Chumps, and Dick ""Ibay.Every clrild and Inally an adult couldn't wait for tarnorraw+paper in order to find out what would b a p p e ~next, ~ Sooil after television arrived in ~ y q 8 , howevem; perspectives changed and the impact of radio seemed lcss impressive than it had a ifozcn years earlier, By midccntrit-;l.the revolutionary irnpact of televisian made the infiuence of: radio pale by comparison, ''In radio," * It Iias rcccndy been argued diat siler~tfilm tkeatcrs, I 905--20, were "litleti with talking, yelling, fighting, singing, and lots of laughte~;. . . hTeiglzt~t>rlnoucttheater.; were rlrtr fike cIiurchcs ~3rI Z ~ L I S ~ U &cl-c I~S people spoke in hushed whis1)ers. "l'hcy were Ftoiscerous social cellrers in which ln~rltipleinessages muid be heard." %e.trea J. Rcrss, C.EI~PI~~-I,"I~J:C E.fol[~vood:SZIBII~ FZ~PPI mzd dye ,Yl?apt?zf:of(>lo.cc nr ilmep-ZLZ (Princeton, I yg8), 34-25.
remarked the shrewd cornediar-r Fred Atlen, "even a moro1-r ccsuid visuatize things his way; an intciligent man his way It was a ~vstom-made suit. "Glevision is a ready-made suit. Evevone has to wear the same one." Uniformitry and conformity seemed maximized in resprlllse to telelrisiox~as a mass ~nedium.No ane had said that about rad'10 t~ecause in retrospect it possessed a diversity (and perflaps a t4tality) not present in tc1evision. WTritingin 195 r , 8rrl1ur M. Sci~lesinger,JL, put it this way: biB'e have had the mass media of entertair-rmcx-rtfor a long time now7tlre radio for a generadon and mc>viesnearly two; but it has taken the rise of television to drive home in a frightening way the iinlolicatios-rsof mass commurincatiox~sfor aur cuimre."" Film, radio, and then television emerged in sequexzce, each one a tittie more than m e n v years farther alc~~-rg, The careers ofma~lypoputar entertainers and forms of entermiment spallned all three* Cmsequently; it is interesting to note that: some of them made a series of suceesshl transitions fri-rtmone medium to another, thereby enhanci~~g popular culture to Ievefs that appealed even more t~roadlj~. Eddie Cantor, C;roucho ~Varx,Orson N7elles, ancl soap aperas came to mind as examples of highly succcssk~ladaptario~~ patterns. For others, however, making only one transitis~nmrned ~ l rto t he impossittle, though for diverse reasons. ""hmos kn" h d ; r , " "red Allen, sj~mplranyorchestras, and arnateur performers lrad enjoyed iininellse appeal on radio, but nor-rc succeeded ar-rcarnrnercial television.'" Each ~nediumhad its awn social dynamic and recluired its own distinctive svIe ctf presentation. C~rriousiiyenough, the men who ran network tetcvision did not seem t~ realize that initially and assumed, for example, that poloular radio programs would llcst require a revised type of presenmtion for a visual a d e n c e . They gradualty leartletl, hut often it required several years with sad costs in wasted talent and disillusitos-rcdspagzsors. That is why quite a few cultural critics who had been enthrrsiastic supporters of what they called "the lively arts" during the 1920~ meaning ~ popular cvlture, became disappointed or disiilusioned with the mass media (mostly television and film), and raised their voices to express grcming concern a b u t the '"reat audience" thecorning ail excessivelypassive audience, Even lkfarshatl ~UcLuhanacknowledged that our ""pesex-rce" in the etecero~~ic age is a 6dce of ""pssi\re rather than active e q e r i ~ n c c , " ~ ' Serious cor-rccrn about tetcvision (as the ultimate mass mccfium) causing Al-crericans to become passive atld increasingly isolated from
ctr-reanother wai; first expressed during the 1950s and has persisted wer since. Stlidics by social scientists of the irnpact of teievision on family life i'ousnri that relationships became tess interactive. Ikople might sit in the same room but often did nor really connect with one another. As cf-riidren grew older, they t~ecamemore likely to watcir silently, or even in separate rooms. Writing about Gamily life and television, Lynn Spigel emphasizes tlle privatizatitrn of leisure and entertainment. Watchix-rg programs 01-r wceker-rd evenings meant a "night out at home.'" an aurhorirqi on soccer has written after watchjng global telecasts of a %fq>rlcXG ~ t pchampic-,nshipcompetition: "tcoday the stadium is a gigailtic "l'V studio. The @me is played for television so you can watch it at t-rome," Critic Robert TIughes has tamei-rted ""passive sut~~nission to the bright icons of telc.visitrn, which come complete and c~vewftefming,and tend to burn out the tender wiring of a child's imaginatioil becactse rhey allow nu re-wcorking."" All of which must seem very ficlsniliar by now; but what has slcst been recog~~ized explidtly is that concerns about passive respoi-rsesto entertainment and the uses aF leisure L-rave increased incremenfally aver the past l-rul-rdredyears, A~~dIei~ces for classid m i c in the iatirr ninetee~lthccr-rt-tiryhad attentiveness imposed upon them, which is not the same thing as passivity; Others, however3lamented that the massive increase is1 church rnesnbership early is1 the mendeth centut-y encouraged the congregation to be passive, 'l'ke ser\$icewas regarded as a professioxlal perfor~nancethat sllawcased the power af tile mirinster a d choir rather than participation by tlle congregation, In 1932 one cterwnan asked: "Arc we going to become a nation of spectatC)TS . . . In 1927 Mdious ITuxle~1,who eventually emigrated to the United States in 1937, published an essay in Harperfin which he ascribed an increase in passivity to technolog in general and to the pemasiveaess ctf macknery in particular, It removes man's incentive to amuse lrirnself: In the past when peo1I'le needed recreation they were compelled to a great extenr to pratpi.de it for themselves. tf you rireeded rnusic you had to sing or play an instmi~ent.If you wanted a pictorial record af some person or scene you had t-o draw and paint. If you lived in a 4lage or out of rhe way town and wanted drama you had to act, yourself. To-day you need do none of tlrese things, You. turn on rbe gmmophone or rhe radirt wlren );(>W need music; ytu click
your Kodak when you want a picture; y t ~ zgo to the village movies when you want drama. Recreatiotl is provided readymade by enormous joi~st-stock companies, 7'he play-issstinct, which found active expression in the past, is slow passive.4"
AI aliment called ""secutoritis" wwas first designated in x 932, thcrugfi it i s not clear whether it appeared as a result of unwanted h e time bccause people were rrnemployed and had exccssive leisure or l~ecausegc)ing to the movies had acquil-ed such appeal. h o u n d the same time complai~stswere also voiced that jazz was rneaslt for dmcing, yet it had t~ecornea concert phenomenon, in some venues at feast, for passive listening. In 1934 a critic cosnmented that Cieorge Gersfrwin '%CJWcomposes to he heard, not to be sung. Hc is lucky because we are becoming a naticm of listeners, hanks to the radio," By r9q5 Seldes" lament abcsut a transformadon tlrat he lrad wia~essedduring the previous fikeen years reached a popular culture audience via Esquke, a snenk snagazine too expe~~sive for the snasscs, t le disliked the way pop music was being styled t ~ j rt l ~ eex-rtertainersin search of distinctivc identity, "There was a time when our popular songs seemed to bc like us," he wt-cm. "That time ended when people stopped sin$ng songs and began to listen to them.5'il By the 1 9 5 o ~ u c fexpressions i of coneer11 about tlre coming c~f mass cuIture and its impact upon human initiative and ex-rgagexne~-rt with others t~ecaznecommonplace in American discourse, articulated at all tevels, ranging f r c ~ r nintcmiews pubtisl~edin l,@ to elegant essays cornposed by the leading lir-erati.In r p j z Aflcn 'late declared that the man of letters ""must discriminate and defend the difference bem-een mass communication for the control of men, and the knowledge of man which literacure offers us for human partidpation." "%right ~kfacdona1d"sitaxy throughout tile 6kies insisted &at what he called "R4idcuit" as wet1 as mass ~ v l t u r e110th increased Americar-r passivil-~rrather than creativity, ard contributed sig~~ificanttg to the growth of consrfmerism as welle4' I'otlowing the Great Debate iltrring the rggas concerning the negative cozzsequexzces of mass cufmre, a dialope t i ~ a persisted t into the early sixties, several obsemers and tridcs came foward to defend ordinary h e r i c m s against the harsh litany of complaints about their passivity: Almost without exccpdon, however, these writers have been journalists, sttciologists, lirerar~;critics with a professional investment in reader response theory, or apologists for h e r i c a n adlrertisissg who
passionately insist that advertising is nejther manipulative nor primarily ~ s p o n s i b i efor consumeris~n.James B. Twitchell, for example, l~elievesthat adverrising lras created a ""cotlversaticm" in which conwith spollsors and the ccrllsequence is a sumers are on an cqual foc>~ng "generative hurran a~tiWiy."~~' But there have t~eerzequally t.xgorous responses to slrcir clairns. FSerbert J. Schiller, an expert in communications and commerce, offers this reaction to the modern situation when mass ~ v t m r eur~dcr-riakty dominates: "The audience does count, But not in the way the activeaudience tl-reory explains. T h e managers of the cultural i~tdustriesare acutely se~~sitive to the moods and feelings of the natior-rhnanj~ pubfics. It is their job, for which they are paid handsomely, to make ifay-fjy-da)., if not h o d y - h o u r , assessments of these feelings. M e n they are misraken, as they frequently are, they lose their jobs."" As a historian, I find three ctrllsitlerations missing in rbe writings of those who are reluctant to accept that passivity has slrown a steady increase with the adrres~tof rnass culture, First, 1347 failing to male historical comparisons, they lack any gauge with which ta measure change over tirnc. Tgke as just one example of what gets c~verlookcd this account of the tmiy active a~~ciicr-rcc early in the m c ~ ~ t i ecct~atrfr th when vaudeville (and popular cttlrure) was in its prirne: W ~ C XEddie I Cantar appeared at a 1908 iMiner9s Bowery 'lTkeater amateur ~zighc,the gallery gods shouted, ""'l%lcethe rnrtzsler u@ . . . Go to work )rcm bum!'%Antf when he wan them over, '"there was a rumble of sramping feet, shrill whistling, and a thin shower of coists that pelted the backdrop and rolled rttward the gutter of focirlighrs. 'I'his was tlreir way of7 awlause, with leather, metal and siren shriek; they scorned the effeminate cfapping of hands." Losers were yanked off with a long hook, At the end of the show the sr~mlvorswere lined up on stage, and the master ofccremo~-ries walked down the tine, holding a five-dollar bill over each performer" head, T h e one who received the loudest applause won the m t r ~ ~ c ~ " ~ ' Second, p x t i c i p a n ~in this ""dafope" concerning passivity hil to acknc~wledgcthat 'ipassive" can be used in several ififferent ways. In re1ati011 to high culture it may mean nothing more than decorum, for exal-crple,tnot talking while a symphaly or an opera is being perhrmetl. 13assivity in relation to mass culture, however, customarily implies a
tack of initiative, rrndiscimixsatjn acceptance af mccfiocre films or prrrgl-ams, escapism a d the isolated privatization of fcisure time. nll~ood's "worst Inistake was in its persistent cateri~sgto the passive audience; the one that goes atld goes, but is eqrlally e m p q of enthusiasm or indignatior-r, . . . I: Iollyuvood is neglecting its active audier-rceand catering hardest to the habitwal, passive audience which does it least good, and will ire the first to desert it for television,""if" f shalt return t-cl this sharl3ly colltested distinction bemeen agency and passivitry in chapter 8, devoted elltirely to mass culture since mide to acknwledge my betief that popr1centtrry. 1 Iere it may l ~ suEcient tar culture and proto-mass culture co-existed and overlapped during the E ~ 3 o u i - r "OS, d 'E'hc latter was gaining strengtir, a broader public, new marketing strategies (such as the paperback revoluticm), and tecbnotogicai breakti-rroughs that vastly expanded simuitanec~t~s vier?-ing audiences across the naitio~il(such as the coaxial cable in 195r and later satellites and cabte television), hText, however, we lnusr ask what lras becorne of popular cutt-ure after its heyday ended in the xgqos.
I3copulx culture as I have perceived and desigl-laad it cerrainty did not &sappear L;Rllo\YingW>rM bVar If, (Indeed, the term ""pop" as a casual
allusia~lto popular culmre did not appear until ilfier the war,)'"t may have been gradually surpassed in quantitative terms (audience size, ui-ricaGoxz, dollars spent, etc.), t ~ uitt retained its distinpishing attributes ar~dvitality. &ring the middle third of the mentieth cej~mfyar~dhas persisted beyond that, especially in rural and small-tc~wnhel-lca: as well as in some suburbail areas, I have in mind such e x e q l a r s of enduring popular culture as cousnty fairs and flea markets; dish-to-pass suppers at commurinr-?y'centers and the fetlowship Lralls of churclles; local theatrical groups who make ail isnme~lseeffort to delight their- neighbcrrs rather than tlrrrz a profit, thollgh each sueccssfill proctrrction helps to make the next one possible; qrlifcing groups; militarq. re-enacrr~entsohsessed with authenticity; fiarmers" markets; the renaissallce of illteresr in local lristorq. and historical societies; square dai-rcing and folk daxzcing; t~luegrassEestivals; sacred lrarp singing (a fascinating mode of organized sponmi-reity);and the passioxzate irwolvement in high scl-roof football and baskethall games, where so many devoted suppcgtem attend every singlc w e , at home and away, come rain or come slrine. In 1947the United States lrad I 8,5oo,ooo participanrs in 3jtooo bowling leagues, ;Many Axnericans also bowled competiti~iref;C. for their lodges or clubs ( E l k or Kwanis), Li;SE procfakned that ""bowiing had bcccrrne a way of life," A year later bt~wtingemergctl as a $m~-mjljiona-year sport, Lfe c~~~~sliderecf it "the most popular particidpant sport" in the Ullited States, "Fhe primay reason was nor the Lure of tournament champic-,nshipsor prize money; but sociabilit-y; friendly competition, and teain spirit for peopfe of afxnost any age. Leisure time at baset~all games and beacires also perpemated forms of e~ztertrainme~lt that erzjo~redgreat appeal during the poswar years, In the 1940s and '$OS, a passion emerged arnor~gyr~ungmales who did not blandly accept the by Detrrtit, Instead, participants in the ""hot automobiles prod~~eed rod" culture actively redesigned, redecorated, and in some instances even reei-rgincered cars to suit their owxz sense of displajr and their ~zeedsfor racing, 'l-he ethos of hot rod culture at midcerzmmy, according to one writer, was not pitssiviy t9ut commitment ""t labour, to strive, to plan, to exercise skill, to compete, to succeed, to risk." A 11,oirk tided Bes Nor Rolls I g5 j) exemplifies &is ethos t l ~ r c ~ u ~ h o u t " ' ~ &fiddlebrow culture, moreover, expanded its base and its audience dramatically as educational Ievefs rose and leisure time increased. In x 941 the Sa-turdlay Revieas Lrad a very modest readership of 23,000 and
had to ire heavily suf~sidizedfly an "angel"; try 1961it had become one ctf the nation's leading ~nagazinesin acfwrtising revenues ar~dwas taken over by the IrvllcCall i(l:orporatiorn, By that tirne ct~lruralcernters of various kinds were opening ail over the Ullited States, in communities targe and small. Editoriafs appeared in mass and popular mapzines praising "the new role for culmren in the Ilrrited States. Recordings of d a s s i d music sold sutprisingly arcli, as $id seriolls books in soft-cover editions,'j I his trend agitated a self-svled upl-""r-middlehro\l~.er-ilehrc writer like S. J, 13erelman, who directed his wicked satire in 1961-62 agailsst the apparent (m~ideljrnoted) h e r i c a n obsession with ""getting cuftured," tle told an intemiewer that "it seems incumberzt on everyone to express tbemseltres in words and paint," Perelmar-r's play The Begrrry Pmr opened late in rgdz a d revealed a degree of snobbery 011 his part that seemed our of touch with the expansive democratizatior~of culture, 13erelman8 snide visioll of an unsophisticated country scoffed at hnericans as ignorant culture mfmres, One critic catled attention to the aut-izorY'acidic scorn for sociey"sdcbasexnent of art and culmre into I l c ~ p sfat3rications of their pure selves. In Pcrefmifi~kvision of culture-ct~x-rsurning hncrica, the acciairned artist is he who prostimtes his principles to become a pseudo-artist. Success ddescelsds nor on the creator of pure art, but on the dileaante practiecrner of pseudo-arts, like interior decorators and desig~lers,and an the culmral scnengers like agents, editors, arzd producers who bateer-r off the tale~ltsof true crcators,'"""es~~ite some favorablc r-rotices from critics, the play ctosccf in 1963 aker only eighty-four perforxnanccs. It was the wror-rg lnessage at the wrong time. It is readily assumed that mass culture has grc9wr-r exponenrialy since the ~yGos,and that is correct, But the less recogr-rized (certainly the less writtell about) reality is that the audier-rcefor ~niddlel~row and poputar cdture has also grown, "Whoattends ail of those I~lockbustcr exhibitlox-rsat art museums, listens to a diverse range af radio stations, anci is grateful that several decades ago the Federal lf"s193os essay "&%ddlebrow?"a wicked diatribe in the form of a letter to the AWm~ Stgte~rgan"that sire never aemaitly sent but that was pul~lishedposthusignificance OF Ly~es'sunprecedeiited qwadrimt~uslyin 1942.' partire s a l e is that it made Americar-r taste levels seem more stratified than ever before and also made the levels look more discrete and cornpartmelltalized than ever before. f ~ so r doing, Ljazes received reinforceme~~t during tile early and mid-1950droxn culmral critics like tlwigi~thfacdonald, Clement Greenbcrg, and many others who poured out nilmeroLrs essays, most ctf tlrcrn more stridcrlt and ctpiniorlateif in tcme than I,vrres's work procfairning that, indeed, the L;nited States was plagued by multiple taste
5 . 'raste-level chart drawn by *I?>EII F U I Ifor ~ L,$e magazhe,
April r I, r 049, pp. zoo-x
teveIs, each of them problematic in its own way. Greentlerg, at feast, made the following ackno-c\.tedgment: "Highbrow9" 'biddlebrow," and ""lto\vbr~w~~ are terms of: brutal simpfificaGoxz. Nor were t11q coined to des-roee types of culture so much as ~7"e-f social personality9and all three in an inviciious scr-rse-as if any kind af persol-rat,culture wcrc a fc~ible,and ail the more a Ic@timate object of ridicule hecarrse rc.vcixfed in t other terms availaide one5 pl~ysiagnomj~, Rut I am afraid t l ~ ano fit rbe realities I am t v i n g to deal with as wetl as these rhree.. Azd the reader, t feel sure, will u~zderstandirnrnediately what they xnearz, and at the same time realize that the distinctions they make are not hard and fast c.)~-res," Other writers were more willing to indicate that tlre distinctions really did reflect social and cultural realities, and therein lies a major arzomafy in this entire rzarrati~re,l~ecauscin aclrualiry the distinctions among hnerican preference" and amoi-rg the optios-rs available to them, wcrc starting to t ~ etess stratified and less clear-cut by midcentury rather than rnorc so, jrrst when Russeli Lynes and so many other observers were elnphasizing ladders and scaBaLds of taste, abundant evidence shows that the ladders were i~ssecureljrpositioned and the scahlds precarious. 'l"kel-e seems to be a fairly braad coxzsezzsus, encompassing people with otbcrwisc divergent perspectives, that ever since rnitlcentrit-4: and especially sir-rccthe daminar-rt role of r e l e v l ~ i otlecarne ~~ evidcx-rtaround 1960, culmral stratificatio and the existence of distinct brow levels have become blurred where they haven? been overtly k~lended.Scme cuItural critics, likejo1lx-rA N7alker(who is British but writes about the h-rglo-hcrica xz sces-re), are Gairf y cautious on this point. "Although it may seem at times that cultural i~icrarchies,such as hight~rtrw~ middiebrtrw and Io~;brtrw~ havc brtrken down altogether," he writes, "this is not t l ~ ecase. It is simply that the situation has become more complex and that a no re s~lphisticatedanaljrsis is needed to expfaill the relarionships bemecn styles, tastes and econo&c factors."7 h p m e n t s for ig~zoringthe co~~ve~ztional distinctior-rs, however, can he fcmnd as early as 1948, when Sitlney Finkctstein wrote about jazz in tile context of inten-ratioi-rairather tlla1-r exciusiwty American ~nrrsic.t l e rejected the higl-rlIow dichatc>my(which invariably pegged
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels jazz as Iowkro~r)and criticized the nostalgia of jazz critics who try to firnft the work of popular musicians to the realm of folk practices, ignoring the idiretnce of classical music upon them and vice versa." LMarslrall:McLuhan, wrids~gin 1964, was tlre first prolnineslt critic to reject systematically the cusmrnary categories in a way that caused a wide range of readers to take notice, BTriting about changes in the phc~~~ograph, troth its t c c h n o f o ~ and its audicx-rce,he said: When a medium becomes a means ~cfdepth experience the old categories of "classical" and "pc,pula~" or of: "highbr-c~w"and ""towbrowf\no tonger obtain. . . . 1Vhe111.p. and hi-fi and stereo arrived, a depti~approacl-r to musical experience also came in. 1;ve~bodylost his inhibitiol-rs abrmt '%17ight9n3w3"and the serious people lost their qlratrns about poputar music and d t u r e , h y t h i n g that is appmarhed in depth acquires as much interest as the greatest matters. Because ""depth4fmeans ""iinterrelation," not in isolntiox~." By r975, the sociologist and cxitural critic Dar-riet Belt was sounding a chard that echoed through many rnincfs and texts written t9y homogeneiq marked a others. t l e felt that the rapid growth of cult~~rat ~ ~ the SS'~ United States, new "crisis of:C O I ~ S ~ ~ Q U S I in
Nre have become, for the first time, a cornmoll people in the hailmarks of cuttvrre, t h e n the old distinction of "highbt'~)~" and ""l~wbn3w~" w11ich Van Wyck Brooks installed sixty years ago and which was pursued s s vigc~rouslym e n v years ago by Dwight LMactlonaltl.. , ha.s lost its meaning today. Are 1ZII""A *$*H ancl N~shz~z"//e highbrow or lowbrawHtlz !&act,neither: they are lkficldle America mockng itself in the accerzts of the hight9rt3w and the Iowbrc)w0
I will returll to scn"Eimenr~ of:that sort in section four of this clrapter and once again later in the br~ok,We have already seen the ways in which popuiar and mass cufhzre can overtap and interpenetrate one * 111a widely noted 1933 essay in the Darb I4inrkc~31amist critic Mike Gold had rejected jazz as tc~otx~urgeoisand asserted that: a psoleurian rewlution needed nztsic like Beetho%renk!
anc~tber'spresumptive spheres. With the passage of time and developmcrrts after the r93oq in fact, their spheres become less and less tlisCrete. So chronological distincdons are isnsnensely important in the history o f blurred or collapsing raste levels, and in tl-ris chapter we will pay special attention to Izuances of dming-ach-rowledginf~ ~zeverthetcss that smdcs-rtsof hericaxir cufhzre in the mentieti~cerzmmy do Izot agree over matters of timing. E'inalt~i;the readcr should note that as we ~ a k ean ovetvicw of cultural blending in modern h-crerican lristor?y;we can find it prominently evideslr in rhe early and middle nineteeslrh cenr-uq, and tlress once again in the tater twentieth ces-rtury. Charles kViilsos-r Peale's museum in Plniladelpfria, the first in h e r i e a , was open to alt and was patronized by all. Norman Vnccnt Peak (a very d i s ~ l rrelation), t and a key figure irs the p o p ~ a r a tofi religion in the United States during his l-crinistyat Manha~atnkAilarbfe etweerz Charles Hiot Norton, a Bastosir Brahxnin and self-st-y-tedL-rigL-rbraw,and his contemporary Walt Nrhitman, who wished to conmin multitucfes, is sy~nptomaticof the wide range of possihilit-icsin x-rineteentb-ccntru~hnerica. Norton OI-~CCcalled M i t ~ n a n '"a eompctund of New England transcendentdist and New %rk ro~vdy." It is certainfy true that Whicmank poetry mingled images from elite asird popular culture precisely t~ecausehe wished to dissolve the bousirdaries betweesir taste levels that Norton sought so desperately to presen7e,It is especially x-roteworthythat in mid-nix-rcteenti~~centurfp A~1eric.abooks were puhiished in mdtipie formats, variously priced, in order to a ~ r a c tas lvlany audiences as possitrle, Lelzves c$ Grtss, for versions." insance, was available in $2, S 1 , and Even during the last three decades af tire sinncteenti~cenmmy, when we are mast likely to erztrxsioxz the srzcratizatioxz of culture in the United Sates, and ctmsequentty a notal~tcdegree of stratification, there arc numerous instal-rccs of lines being bturred between high ctlltrurc. and what later would tte c d e d midd1ehrcfw. In rK69 an emrepencur orga-
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels nized a PeaccJutliIee ixs Boston to celebrate the end of the C%l War, A structure large exrough to accommodate thirty thousand pec~plewas built and prominent instrumentalists and vocalists were hired to perform with an orchestra of c~nethousand members and a chr>rusof ten thousa~zd.Far its finale, the orcirestra plaj~edVerdi's a~zvilchorus with accompa~zirne~-rt from a scjuadrai-rof firerne11beating anvils, and the firing of live cannon, f h u &CS ~ one cattlgorize such an event in t-c.m?s of I~rowlevels or cre~wd When the LMrtseurnof Fine Arts opened on tlre very salne site seven yeardater, Boston's &layor Cobb predicted tlrat this e m b ~ c ~ n i c museum woufd become "a Eavorite resort of the cultured few who fincl a supreme delight in the finer creatior-rs of art; and, what is more important, alt classes of people will derive berlefit and pleasure from barely looking upon objects that appeal to the sense of the beautifiil. Even tlre least fiavored and least ctrltivated persons cannot &il to derive some refining and elevating inauences koln the sight of l~eautiful things.'"'" "'lbmt rhetoric turned out to be more &ancifi~L a~zdless reatistic than tile cfie~ztetethat acmallp materialized. Yet the passibiliy that such rhetoric might cver-r be voiced in 1876 is not consistexrt with our stererrwicaf view crf p a t r i c i a n - New ISngland at that tirne. Looklsg toward tlre close of tl-renirzeteentlr centuy, we hear peclple ohsewing that the b r a n h e w phonograph and its lnlrsic appealed to ail classes in the Uriited States, h k find historian Neil t larris noting a ""srprising blending of high and popular culture in unlikely places such as Carxregic FSatl, the Chicago Art Institr~tc,and the Library of C:ongress." Harris also paints out thatjoi-ri~Philip Scnlsa delibcl-attlly created a repertoire that would cut across diverse levels of taste. Reacl-ring "dre masses" mattered greatly to Scrrrsa and the symphr>nic ba~zddid, in fact, enjoy a 1.7emyinclusive appeal. 'E'hc extent to which audiegzces t~lendedcan also be seen at centumy's end when tin cans of food, such as Pilgrim strawberries, bore labels orr which fine art was reproctuccd (a picture enritied P i i p i ~ f sGui~zgm Cihr,r-rb in Glaniirl Times),7 h e label carried ncs direct attribution, but we lrave to assume t b r the success 01; suclr an advertisement delpentled upon snme degree of ordinary corrsumer familiariy with the p~inting. Nre know that \Rlliam Dean 1 Iawefls, a pawerhi arbiter of genteel taste, was an avowed kxr c~fvaudevi lle. In r 896, morcrbver, a New Ycxk paper asserted that va~~dcville exrjoyed popularigi with the masses nnll the well-to-do classes, ""who seem to prefer tlrem to performers of a
higher and more serious character," Ad1cx1ct ef~akshy,drama critic for Tbr hirnziolz, never doubted the validiy of vaudeville as an art form. :May CGass Canfield, a prolnillellt playwright and drama criGc, praised vatrdevilte and placed it alntmg the great Atnwican art fclrms. Edward Reed, a professor of Englisfr literacure at Yale, wrote about k-rudevifle widr gerluirle affecriox~a i d appreciation.32 If-\ ~ c p 9as , part of tile Hudson-E2lliton ' f e r c e n t e n a ~ceiebratioi~, New York's Metropotitan Bhseurn of Art put together tile first e*hikition devoted entirely to h e r i c a n a , especially the decoradvt. arts and material culture, 7 b the surprise of many; this show became a p~~piltlar success and attracted large crowds, " n o s e who loax~edmost of the ablects may have t~efoiirgedto old Gamilies and the New York-Xew England elite, hut the autlierzce for tilat slww turned out to be far more indusivc than anyone envisioned. By r g t s the hnnuat Exhibition of American Industrial Art lrad some critics pleading with viewers not to snrrl-1 macl-rine-made art, Ching beyond that, some even wanted to eradicate the distinction 11er-weer-rfine art and industrial art, a radical ~zationin terms of traditioriraf taste levels." 'rhe decade c~fthe rgzos vvit~~essed more than its prediceat~leshare c~fauciiences prtlcipatjng in mtlltiplc caste levels. In 1 9 2 7 the Safllrd~y Ez?e.~?z'tzg POSTcarried a series of articles &our collecting rare hooks, writtell by A, S. \Y Rosenbaclr, an aurboritative snob but also a highly successful rlealer. 'f'lze series achieved immense poputariv and brought the PO.* a burst of mail as ordinary readers ransaclced their attics for hidden treasures, Recet~tty,moreover, ix-rnt-vativeexperts 011 America11 reading habits have ct~11cll~ded that tile cocltcjlrt of middfebrow mwazines durittg the rgras acmally leveled up 2nd anracted a goodly ntrmber of well-educated readers. That is exactly what CliPilhert Seldes not only hoped fo~om;but helped to ~nakcepossible. IXe began the I ~ Z Q Sas ma~~aging editor of The DiaI, the most prestigious highbrow mag~zine Ic~vedp o p l a r miture, how eve^ in &c t i n i ~ dSt?lrcs. He ge~~uinefy a d aker puhfiShil1g 7%3teSeve~l,iz:e& A Fin ~r 924, Scides ief? 7"he Din1 and wrote for The AVa$ Rcpriblic and The Nation, bur most llotably for Ezreni~zgPost for five years f~egitltlingin r926, lllrritlg the the t.5"~ztur-dlz~ x y3oshe usirdertoolc a moiirchfy cofuiniir far Esquir-e, a new popular magazine, as well as a daily c o l u r n for the N m Erk E v e n i ~ ~ g j o r i1rIis ~. topics were iargcly m i d ebrow, a a t above the average reader of that paper.j4 T h e advent of radio during the 1920s contril-jutedto the blrxrring of high and popular culture as separate taste levels in ways that no one
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels had anticipated. In 1923 David Sanlog? the presiding f i ~ ~ ratc .RCA a d evenmaliy at NKC, eloquently announced that '%c greatest atlvantnge fbr broadcasting lies in its wiversaliv, in ic ahility m reach everytjod2yt everywhere, anywhere, in giving free entertainment, culture, larld] instructios-r,. . ."During the 1920s more than 60 percei-rt of broadcast time was devoted to music, and a considerable partior-r of that was classicat, 111 1925, for example, the Awater Kent Program prrlvided classical music over a chain of thirteen stations, \/\":henNBC made its premiere broadcmt in 1926, it mixed classical and popular music in an extravagant production tlrat cost the llew nemork $50,000 but reached an estimated audier-rceof twelve million people. 'l'he New York Sy~npt-ro~zy, tile New York Oratorio Socicv, and severat opera stars participateit, In 1929, hc~wever;7%1e K l ~ ~ iEke y ,Yhozc, which gaineit a very wide adierzcc, made a significant hrcak by avoicfing the serious music that had been standard &re for most of tlre decade. It aimed exclusively at middle-class listeners wlro preferred popular mu~ic~'~ During the mid- r y 3os, thougi~,classicat music made a rernarkaisle comeback on radio, Although it never regained the high proportion of t d broadcast time t l ~ ait t enjoyed in the 192os, :VIZC.:: created a symphony orchestra for h m r o Toseani~siwhen he retunled to tlre Ullited States in I 936 following his disillusionmenrt with Llilzrssolini,I Tis programs achieved a large and devoted listenership; some believe that he became a kind of ""fulit-uregod" in the United States. According to an has man eight-page spread in Lqe magadne: ""Never before in I-ristorq~ had at his tingcrtiputie gift of so many priceless treasures of music, educadorn, drama," and s s 011, Edward Bernays, the founder of public rela.cions in the United States during tlre 1920s~lrad especially hoped to assemf~lea multiclass audierzce for seriotrs music and opera in the U~sitedStates, It is astonisfring how swiftly Bernajrs saw his dream realizccf, and creation c~fthe xRC Symphony Orchcstrra t~nlughtit to hlfilimc~lt,'" IDuring the mid- and later ~ g j o s most , notabfy in 1937-3g7 the major nem-arks made a serious comlnirrnellt to quality dramatic productioxls for adults. " f i a t rneant a ~zotabfeinhsian of Shakespeare, but atso Mctor IIugo, Ibser-r, lMarlawe, Gogol, Corneille, "E'otstoy, 'l: S. Eliot, and ma11y others, To achieve that goal, the nemorks themselves had to serve as sponsors, and -for a while they were glad tt, do so, Radio had achieved irnmellse popralaritr~/.by then and advertising for other Fograms bn~ughtin abundant revenue."
6. Rrtzdf-uE,rc&nki(I 93 9) by L lierbert Ckhr (gelatin silver print)
7 . i"?"~Ezi;ard 1,.Bert?gdys(I 984) by P a ~ i c i a'rate foil OR can'iras)
I he btending oP taste levels occurred in other ways and through other media during the rgjos, T h e films of nTalt Ilisney and Frank Caipra captivated moviegoers from all walks af life. Capraauggely successful 1934 comedy It Hgppened 0 ~ 2 Nigh4 e starring Clark Gable and (.:Imdette Coibcrt, set the standarcf for comedies throughout the thirties, It swept the &cars, appealing tcr middfehrows especially, Ijut as one critic noted, it pleased "hightjrow and lowbrow alike.'"n that same year an essay in Worntlnk Home d'o~i"~ptr~.ition nested witlr delight that Disr-rey"was discovered by the mob t~cforehe was discovered by the art wortd . . . has] tile masses g a ~ a~lesson e in art appreciation to the intelligcotsia."""" &"Tenwhile,&3iwet C:uvarmbias, a briitiax-rth3exicar-rartist wkc~first came to the United States in I 92 3, designed an uproarious series of caricatures called ""fmpossible Intemiews." Aijpeari-ing in t4t.iti~yFgir lsetwee1-r 199 r and 1934~ they juxeap~scdS i m u n d Freud vs. Jean I Earlow, Cireta Garba vs. Calvin Coolidge, Martha Cirailam W. Sally Itai~d, John I).Rockefeiter, Sr., vs.JoscfStalirr, b e e Sempfe &3cPilersai-rvs. nilahatlna Gandhi, flucy Long ss. Benito &3ussulini, and E~tgene 0XTeillvs. Jirnmy Duranre, to cite only some of the most prr~vocative P .
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels examples. "fhe cleverness af the contrasting pcrsonaliy types and the absurdify of their inconceivable dialopes diverted attention somewlrat from Govarrubias"sngeniaus artistv. *I"heapg-realof tlrese caricatures crossed the t~oundariesbetween high and popular cdctlre dso, in part t~ecauseone person in each pair represented sobrieq and tile other one cefebriv or one represented mental creativity whiie the ather displayed impudent treauty. Stuciies in diffet-er-rtiatiun, they ctMigcd vieavers to violate norms of categori7;i1tion teast in these fiantasies. '" One czf the pioneering caricaturists, fi Iiruelr (188o--rg68), had drawn celebrities rangkg from grand opera ta kraudeviUe. t iis drawings, which appeared in Joseph Pufitzer's newspapem; the AWas Krk LC/o7*ld3 depended h r their success on jn~tantrecogt-ririon. rrherefore we have reason to t~clievcthat readers recognized Enricu C:amso as well as colnedialls kVetler and Fields, k%%en some of his prints ai~pcaredin 1915 at the Salon of Anerica11 Ilurnorists ehibition, a critic from the New T"arkA~~erz'csn) praised i i n x e h h o r k lavishly, "for here is evidence of ail intellecrualizi~~g process that not only reptates the styte trut also nerves the hurnor with iroi-ricvim." Like Covarrrtt~ias, Frlteh managcd to cross bour-rdarics and appeal to viewcrs whose tastes, according m T.7arn MiTyckBrooks's prediction, could never converge. As one scl~olarhas c>bsewed, ""lower art aping higher forms would t ~ ae recurrer-rt comic motif in caricamre,""'""" In January x 938 the first of two notable mrning paints toolc piace in the conjunction of popular with high culture, Ever since r o q Paul Mitc~nal-r had preset-rtcds ~ p t - t a n ijazz c in cot-rcert,ahex-r to large and delighted audiellces in vellues like Aeolian EIall; but such auditoriw~s were not: considered special; they were llcstable for their size rather than their distinctior-ras places where serious people wei-rt ta listen to great xnusic. Bexlxiry C:oodrt-tan received credit for l~reakdngthat t~arrier in 1938 when he perforxned at Carr-regic Hall." X3oing so seized the popular imagix-ratiun and meant a new degree of respectat~iliity-for s w i q and jazz, &foreover, (;or>dman"corchestra had t~orhblack and wlrite musicians, therelly pubticly displayi~sga pattern of reciprocal inAuexzce that had tong been important ta the developxnent of jazz, For
* It was not well re~nemlm.edin 1938 that ten F a r s earlier 14; C, 1-Janrty had psesellred a comcert of A&ican-*/It~~ericaa music at Carnegie f Iall.
8. Jeansle Chrdon of the i\?Letropoiitas~ Opera crowning Pad IYhiternan as tl-te"KingofJazz" kin 1926
CkczodmanB musicians, who were ethnically diverse, to perform with men frarn Courirt Basiek band, one af the great black aggsegatians of that era, broke dowxz l>oundariesa x e again, adding the racial mix to the nt~veltyof wing I~eingI-rcarit with a d d cntkusiasm in (.:arncgie 13ai1*4i A second notable m n i n g point took $ace on March I , I 942, when %%%ItDisney spoke to the audience by radio Irookup at intermission during a performance af the hterropoli~anOpera in New York, f>is~zeyhtapicwas sinplar but sweeping: ""Cur Azllerican Cutture," He began with a modest disclaimer: 'W~)opcyi s as wcli quatificd as 1 am to discxss cvtmre in America." He went on to say that the veryword "cul-
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels
g. Be~znjfC O O ~ ? F( I~960) G P ~by Rcn@Robert Harxcl~k (oil on canvas)
ture" had an "un-American connoation" dabt~~t it that seerned ""snobbish and affected. As if it thollght it was better tllan the next fcltow." That sort of attimde, said Ilisfney, might lead to a form of qralmy where self-appointed p a r d i a l s of traditirtnai "culture'koufd put a "fence around pair-rtingor art or music or literature," h I>f)isney$ view, such elitism was ir-rtolcrabfc because cutture belaz~ged""eyuatly to all (If In the Unitcd Spates, Disr-reyinsisted, easy access to ~vtmraiopportunities existed far '"rich and poor alike in great aht-indatnce" tfrrough radio and the l-crovies,magazicres atld newspapers, sjfmphonies and kaltcts, poetry and piinting, writing and the diversified wtsrld of illustl-ati011, "E'hose remarks epitonuzed the optimisxrl, inclusive~zess,and ifernocratixing imputscs of I)isney"s~)cprcssio~n-erapopulisrn, 'l'hcy echoed the lltesgage of The Stlven Live4 Ar-t.s, p~tt~,fihcd by Sclcf cs in 1924,and ali of his 1)roliGc writing tlrereafter, "I'hus Ilisney; a consurnmate mibdlet~rc~w~ addressed the audience at a high culture event and
told them that a scatus hierarchy C Jpaste ~ putllics was inappropriate for the United Spates o f h ~ c r i c a . ' ~ Blurring of the distinctions bem-eel1 lrigh and popular ctrlmre increased predictably in the years following World &Tar IT, and what had ofter-r re~nainedoi-rly hortatory during the pret4ous two decades began to emerge as reality 'E'he war itself hzrrrcd out to be a remarkaide equatizer that aftenuated class tines as detcrminax-rtsof taste in foods, A degree of leveiing in eating habjts occurred, resulting from rising expectations by some, more egalirarian desires by others, but especially from wartime rationing of: certain foods, In 194.6 all sorts of people cozzcerned with the radio industmy begm urging ""scially responsi2>2e9'"madcasting-thae is, more meaninght programming. They wanted radio to "'level up," and they did have FCC support for 11% a diEerent realm, the more broadcasts ccst~cerrsecfwith p ~ ~ b laffairs, ic invendan of tlre long-playing record in 1 9 4 ~ 4 l~ecaune 8 an important milestone in the merging of high and popular ctrlmre, T h e LIBcould cozztain a 25-minute orctlestral movement or one of I h k e Ellingtonb extended jazz carnpositiox~s.'l"ke welt-received Fofh~aysA ~ t h o l o n released ixs ~ g g zmeax-rt that what had been the littie-knc~wnmusic of the nlral poor entered and iI~flnencedavant-garde as welt as prrrietarian circles,* :tifeanwlrile, L$% magazine condnued to issue reports for its broad audiegzce on the growing appeal of ballet in the United States, a n operas l>yC;ian Carlo lkfe~zottibecarning ""bgh l~rowsmash hits" on Brcladway, on the refcase of a lilm of the opera Eies ofiL;rom~k,~ by~z az ifirecmr-wrirm team who had made a number of movles with highin B~*nokbnopezled as a brow motifs {or themes, Wkien A P e e GP-MUS I ,' L took slcste of an apg-rarenttrend: ""Broadway musimusical in cals are tackling xnare dramatic (or even operatic) subjects," "E'heaterin general seemed v\ritfing to be car-rcerr-redwith serious issues, and as a consequence auctiences w m bcirlg actracted rather than driven away,"" From the mid-1950~0111wardthe blurring of lines bemeer1 high and popular cult~srebecame manifest in addidonat ways and in unexpected venues. Early in the fifties a few exectrtives at hTBC'I"elevision decided to inject same "high culture" into their programming, ail inidatikre designated as Project: .XX. "E'he inaugural k7e~~ture, irnmer-rselysuccessful and drxrable, was ii.,.crul.;y at Sea, a mcny-six-part fitist~zyC JU,S, ~ n a d action dUr117g Wor'ld War Ij, Yet even tlloug/~K c f o ~ /~t became the most frequently repeated television series of the 1950s,
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels antractir-rgtarge foreign and schoo) sates, potcx-rtial advertisers avoided it and NI3C /lad tc.,consigl-r the program to its Sunday aftemt~on'Yintcllectual ghelro," hTBC: shiked in subsequent years m biography (Washingon and Lilscoln) along with semihistoricat portraits of parecular decades (the E yzos and I y3os). 'l'hese ackeved a mixed degree of success, revealkg considerable uncertainq a n tile part of the networic at9out the audience it memt to parget with historieai and nonficdon pnrgrams. As Daniel hjarcus has obsenred, "NBC rhetoric regarding Project XX reAected a tension between lxiglr ctxlrure and mass entertainment-and the nemork lroped that tlre series would be perceived as both.?"""'2"bat goal swikly became sysnptornatic of aspirations for tele\risioxl ge~zerally,with inevitable consequer-rces. bffhereas Kctory nt Seg mal-ragctl to achieve appeal at all levels, its s-rrecessorstried to please several ar~din tlre prcrcess remained not very satisfactory to any. In 1954 tlx noted film critic Robert mTarslro\vexpressed his desire to minihze the ctxstomay potal-lty between high and popular, Fie believed that l-re could and sfrould do justice to the ctaims of art and popular culture even though he recogxlized that those claims did not atways or consjstcntiy coil~etde.By 1954 rntxscum attendance per year in tlre United Spates reached the astonisiling figtire of $5 mitlioil persons, just about equal to the nrrinber of moviegoers per anmurn, a surprisiisg syminety, When the il/lr;lnaLism was displayed at the :tifetropalitall hfuseuxn of Art and the National Gallery in 1963, the fines of people who waited for l-rours to catch a brief glixrrrpse brake all attezzdance records and amazed everyo~~e in the museum world. 'T"hen Thornas t), ITtliving became director of the Metropolitan in 1966 and l~roughtwith hjtn a philosophy that great art slrnutd not be the excfrrsive preseme of a social and intellectual elite, Scme of his outreach exhibitior-rs during the Inter 1960s grew heatecity controversial, either because their sul>jectareas seemed too trendy or because their material scarcciy seerned to t9c art as traditionalists rr~-rderstoodit. BC that as it may, attendance at the Met reached six miilitrn visitors per year t9y I9 7 0 . ~ ~
A pivt>t.;llmc~mentoccurred in tlre winter and spring of 1963-64 when Pkmyboy magazine, in its elekre~lthyeam; began to enrich (leaven?) its customany contex-rt with a Bertrand Russefl intewiew of India's 13rime hjix-ristcrNehm and a piece try tjterary historian and criticJoirr~ W. Aidridge on the mbjcct: CJF ""XT-ightrrt>wAuthors and &fiddlebrow B o t h , " Essentiafly an essay on the chntlgitsg nature of America11 fic-
tion since the rgzos, it declared that there had been a decline of middlebrr~warriring (once wetl represented t y Dreiser, Sherwood Anderson, Sinclair Lewis, E S c o ~ Fitzgeraltl, and tfeminp-a)i), wlrereas highbrolv fiction seemed alive and well, along with serious criticism. Curiously enough, however, respoz~dingto a query in the wake of \Vorld \Var XI, critic Leslie Kedler had anticipated a blurring of tastetevel agerings b c ~ ~ ~ofr sa eshort supply of popuial- writing: P .
I he opening of the super-sticks to more serious writing, tlre Airration of the C o r n ~ n p o l i with t ~ ~ ~ belles-letrres, ~ tlre associadon of large coxnmercial publisIrers with little magazines, the Erantic excursions of editors up and down the countryside are ~zotso rntxch tokcns of some radical ci~angeof heart, as of an incipkrlt panic at a growing discrcpax-rcybetween mass production rnethads of distribution and the lc~wsupply of popular literature; pubtislrers and editors, abhorring a vacuum, turn in desperation, if not in love, to the more seriotrs writer. "E'hismild revoludox~ will doul>tIessincrease the pressures toward accomznodation as wcll as opporrunities for ~ ~ U ~ J ~ ~ G I ~ ~ O I I ~ " I hat particular explanation of the ""mixed media" (or mjngled conten@ phenomenon did not turn <jutto be the opt-irnal one in the long nun, but i t indicates the g-rowing recognition that tidy categorizations of packaging for partieubr taste tcvels would l~ecornetcss and less appn~priatein the Future, AsJohrr Cawclti put it in 1968, x-roting the increasingly an7higuous reiatjor~shipof hmericans to cdmre, "WC are confronted, for perhaps the first erne in history, wiclr a real and continual choice between such cultural alternatives as the traditional forms and ideals of high culture, the formulas of mass culture, and tile coxnplex and evasive strategies of the new art.'"") Meanwi~ile,the enhanced antractivencss during the rgsos ctf iistoric site rntxscums tike Cotor-rial. wiXiamstrurg, Old Sturbricfgc Mllage, and the ITenry Ford &fuseurn defied simplistic categorization, One could, I supg-rose, call tl-rem middlebrow; but they spent liberaly a n research and plated a very stroz~gemphasis upon authenticity and pubtic educatior-r, &foreover, by training apprel-rtices in the presentation of carlg craks, they encouraged the recovev of older Amerian arts and traditior-rs, It seexns mcanir-rgicss, therehrc, to campartmentalize tl-rese histox-ic sites and Inuseurns as exclusively elitisr or middleP .
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels t~nswor popular ~r;tft~~re, Tur11ing ~TC) ccsrnparakte phenomena, t ~ ythe early r gbos symphot-ryorchestras ixs the Unitcd States gave more sofdout concerts to more diverse audiences tlran at any previou"dme; and folk lnusic presentations during tlre 1960s and '70s occurred just as frequexztly in concert halls as in coffeehouses, 'I"asr-e publics had become genuinely interx~ixed.~" On the last day of the 1954 teleGscd hearings involving Senator joseph R, &kcCarthy and the U.S. Army, a Chicago dealer in T V sets tried an interes~ngexperimellr in order to saris$ his ctrriositry, Ele owned a corner store with m-o windo\vs. In one window Ire placed a "E'V set tuned to the Llearings. t ~ the z other he put a 'l'V set tuned to a \VIiite Sox game at a time when baseball fever ran high in Chicago. D c ~ i r that e fact, only three viewers watched the game while ti-riry-six jammed the sidewalk to observe the McCarthy i~earings,'Ielevisi'on sets were not yet universally owned at that time, and repeat coverage in the evetling was much less likely to occur than it is toilay, T h e resutrs of both evellts could be read about in the next day's inewspapers, Nevertheless, the line fjetweerz middlcbrc>wand mass culture seemed fuzzy indeed, an irrrportarrt harbitlger uf d-rjngs10 me,"
Brjdgng the traditional gap between highbrow and rnicidiing to lowbrrsw taste Ievets developed later than tile high/middle or high/pop~rlar convergence, and for untlerstandable reasons. High atld low started out much farrhel- apart, Moreover, until the years following %fq>rld \Var 11, going to college (never mind postgraduate educaGox~)had not been the norm for most h e r i c a n s . During the E Y ~ Ohowever, S, etpiifence emerged that highbrows tej~deiftcr he far more tolerant of LWt~nsw caste than they wcre of middtckro~~. Note the critic and cornpc~mVrgil 'I'homson"s reaccjon to George G e r s b i n , expressed in 1935: "I don't mind lris being a light composer, and I don"t:mind his tnyitng to be a serious one, But: X do ~nirzdhis Falling 11etweer-rtwo stools.'%A_ note Virginia N700ff"s arch pror-rour~cement,written at about the same time, She defined a Icrwhrrrw as a person. "'of thormrghbred vitality who rides his body in pursuit of a living at a galtop across life. 7'hat is why I h011our and respect fo\vbrows-and I have never
known a hightrrow who did not, In so far as XI am a highbrow . . . I iave t w b r o ~ ~X sn~1949 " Rq~xon"I(.:hander,the prolific American autl-ror of detective thrillers, grambfed that '"I sin at home with the avani garde inagazitles atld with the rough tough vernacular, T h e company t realiy tycaiirnot get along with is the pseudo-literate pretentiousr~cssof, let us say, the Slitzlrdql Revz'e~~? ofliirerat~c-e,'l'kat slrrns up e v e r ~ h i n g1 despise in our culture, . . ."5' Manifc3ld attempts by the mass media, sarting notably in tl-rc later 1930%played a major role i i ~ calling the arts to the attention of very large ilurntlers ofhnericans, 7'he actual impact of tlrese effol-ts is diEcult ta measlrre a i d may ~zothave achieved widespread upfift. But ~zatio~zal chauvinism clearly pro\ri"lcld an important stirnutus. When Lqe magazine preser-rtecf special features 011 hericar-r art in 1937 "td 1938, it did so with a strongly nationalistic tone, It boasted &at painting was being pursued more actively in the Wnited States than anywlrere else in the world and rejected the view ascritjed to foreign critics that ""Anerican art is ex1tire2~rderived from E u r ~ p e a ~s~urces.~' z Quite the cor~tsary;"it is in America, not war-tar11 Europe, that the world's art future ties."*'3 A feature story about the rapidlJr gro~ringinterest in music at all levels, but esper:ialty classicd music, gave special credit to the impact oP radio and ogered a j u d p e l l t concerning passibritry at odds with several that we have iiroted earlier. "When radio came," L$i obsewed, "it was feared that h e r i c a would becorne a nation of passive music lovers, content to listen rather than play. But the rise of classical radio music has been accompanied try a great rise in amateur orchestras," Five months later an essay devoted to the maturadon of culture in the United States, especially lnusic and art, cclrnrnernted that so much of this new interest occurred in the real111 of high culture, 'l-ini-o week after that a featrure on amateur theatricals insisted that drama played a key role in hcrica1-r d t t l r e and titled one section, perl-rapswith some hwehoie, '"IIigi~ Sci-roots Going High Brow." One wcek later, pundit %%KilterLippmann had an essay in L$ titled '"erican IDesti~~y'" wlriclr offered high hopes for h e r i c a n mlrure $citizens would only dispfay a rnare positive atdtudc toward the irnportafzce of enrichment in their lives,54 * itnother Ffenly 1,uce publication, Erne magazine, once reprodtlced a Jackson Potlock painting upside down, See IViIliarn Philips, cd., Par~tszmK C Z I Z "Ie ~ ~ : 50th ~In~zmevsnry Edittan (New York, I 9851, 791,
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels Following the war Lfe ran a feature entittccf ""Xlroadwq Goes FSight9nrw3" an upbeat discr;lssion c~fthe revival c~fctassics by Shakespeare, Ibsen, and Cl%Teill on the Cireat %%%ire%%Lay;For years the chief f'uncrion of theater had been to provide escapist enterminmenr, Now, ""ia world of co~zfusedvalues, playgoers are Inore inclined to seek satisfiactior-rin the enduring works of estabfished authors." h 1947 an essay ahc~utMartha Gral-ram and her darlce company prrrciaimed that interpretive dance was a highhro~rart and an expresSion of the subtleties of rhe human mind. *f"vvoyears later yet ancsther L$ essay reported that performances by a ballet company in Clricagc-o were breakng all attenda~zcerecords, Later in E 949, L+ acknowledged that two ballets were New Yorkfl~iggcstbox office hits,. Referring to the t~atietversion c~fC'&"r~terz,the essay ot~sen~ed that it ""attracted auciierzccs new to ballet 19ut delighted 1937 the lively and Ic~w-comedynumbers which made it as easy to rake as a Broadway musicat," CGlearEy, highbrolv genres had ro make major compromises in order to attract a larger ancl more diverse clientele. But equally clearly, that is exactiy what was I-rapperlingby ~ n i d c e r l m ~ . ~ ~ 'The reasons why t~ritf@ngwas both neccssav and possible varied considerat~fyfrom art form to ar-rothcr and from one situation tcr the tnexr, In r94g-5oJames 3; Ftexner found rhat his high-toned lristories of American art were slcst selling well in trade editions, so he made a swift and smooth transitioxz to Pocket Books and reached a Izew and much braader audience than he ever irnagined possible. Blurring also ctccun-ed for reasons that might he calted entrcprcneuriaXIp(~Xitic'a1. During the later 1950s and early 'dos the cctmmerciai music estal9iishl-crenr gave a great deal 01; reluctnnt support to recording and promoting fclfk music, Mihy? Because its managemenr person* did nor like roil, especially its b'iasciviot~s" and feft gc~luinelyfrightened by rock 'nn" lyrics, a~zdbecause of the uncor-rventianat personal lives of some of the teading performers, W5thout realXy wanting to, rect~rdccrmpally CXCCutives succeeded in transforming Mk music from a left-wing excltic form wiclr li~nitedaiopcal into a pop culture commodir)?tlrat by 1965 had reached tlre realm of rnass ctrlmre,'" During the 1960s the pace of col-rvergenceber-wee1-rhigh and mass cuiture accelerated. Artists like Azdy NTarhol and Roy Licktenstein made mass production both a sut3ject and an abject of their work. At that point art a d commerce entered into an open, self-aware qmbioric relationship so ~1-tvious rhat MTarlrol and others could parody the connection with isnpunity and profit. ?%%ereadvertising had exploited
fine art on labels for tin ~ a n sat the turn of the ccnmt-y, nuw art exploited mass culture (like the comics) and turx-recf mass media and advertising into tools of their trade-a reversal that initially seemed l~izsl-re,but one that we now rake for granrcld. By the rgAos, morerjveq maIly commercial artists 11ad been insisting far quite some time that advertising and cornrnercial culture were ti~ernselvestcgitisnate art forms. Some declared that an ad could be just as authentically impressive as a painting or a stame." Qour~lalof tlre hTational Iluring tlre 1960s Ekevzfm~?Qiaal~e~-4 Academy of 7klevision Arts and Sciences) intensified the ambiguity lletween art a i d ixzdustmy by pul>lisfringspecufati~rea r d ~ l c written s lly such pronunent peopfe as An&&~ISLafrauxand XIZichal-d Nr.Jexzch, president of the CBSIBroadcast group, on topics like ""taste" "and "the mcarling of cuimre," By tlhc later rc)tios rhe commerctial nemorlrs arcre s c r d ~ l i n g(once again-a reprise 01; rhe l-crid-1950s) to produce ""sefious" pograms in museums around the world: tile Louvre, the EIermitage, and so on." "'Ihesc dumme~~taries in living color prmoted the museum as arr icon, as an emblem of nationalism and of national treasures. It wcl-rtd not bc iong before pop appropriations of rrotdbie artby IQv'ard Munch, became ovetworked c)ich&s. works) like 7"he LTwe@~~r Nor would a student of this trend be surprised wlren the "Three * lenors" vavarorri, Dornittgo, and Carreras) pmvicted a musical spectacle in E ygo at the M70rfdCup soccer games in Rome, t ligh culture at the Caracalla Baths! 'f'he recording of that concert sotd more than ten million copies, the vidcc~more than a milliox-r, 'rhe event had such ;again in appeal across all taste ieveIs that the 'T"hrec I t t ~ o r comtjined s 1994 at Los Angeles and then once more in 1998 at Paris, LVho is to say wlretlrer the higlr had been coarsened and made low7or that philistinism had expropriated elite culture? By the close of the mentieth cerztru7 that had becosne a moot point.'" Ever since the rgzos, actually, there have been ~vtmraicritics arko iarncx-rt this pn~ccss-arkat X3wight &tl;acdor-raXdcatled in rgqg ""that present-tlay tendenq toward a merging af c m e i a l i e d culture and serious (or %high-brow" ccult-ure," William Vhillips and Elilton G a m e r have perpemated the tradirioxl of deploring that confiflatior-rin our own tixne,"""I"hirs is a rninoriv posi.cjun, t believe, hough the rnajurity is not inteilecmaliy cohesive: and does not oRer a dear altenlative, Lrjuk at the range of related hut divergcrlt responses. In an intenriew that she gave in r975, Susan Sontag was asked whether it was usehrf to draw a t-
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels distinction t9cmccn "the cxitural elite" and "the ix-rstinctuat mass." She responded with a firm no, insisdng that the ctistincticzn "'is a vulgar one. By ignoring the digereace between the descriptive and prescriptive senses of cultwe, it can" give a ~ o p m j yspecitie lneaning to eirher. "E'here are several ses-rsesin which 'culture' doesn't equal klite,"Alyway, there are elires-not one, but xnq,)"'"' A p a r late5 Daniel Bell stnlncjed wisthl yet resigned in a statement whose tone is more than simply descriptive: that term I gig11 art itself is in disarray9if not ""dccadenr9~(tbouglr has i-rever been adequately defined); the "pul>lic"is isow so cult-urallykroracious that the avant-garde, Gar from needing defenders among the cridcs, is in the pubtic domain. "fhe serious critic, then, must either turn apinst high art itself, t11et-etjy picasing its political enemies, or, in John C2rossPsphrase, ""resign l-rirnself to being the doorman at tlre discotlr2q~e.'~ *I"hisis the trajectoq of &e democrarizarion of culrural ge~-rius.6' Less than a decade aker that, ixs 1985, Bell's fcitow sociologist Herthe same negarive tl~ernebut without the nlehl bet-t Gans sc~~lnded tone, IIe cfeal-ly described the d e c l i i ~ i ~strength ~g and critical mass of high a ~ f r v r ehecause it seemed ""more marginal than ever?becoming a culture almost exclusively of tile expert and dominated l ~ cuft-ural y professioxlals: creators, critics, and especiafly academics, . . . 'f'lze upper class keesthctes,hl~eself-cducatccf socialist working-class ixstellectuats, a d the C:cntral and Eastern European refirgees of the r 930s and rg4os are all disappearing.'"eplacernent did nest seem forthcoming to C h a l l ~ . ~ ~
It has become commoi-rplaceto say that postmoders-ris~~, ancl more specifically post mod er^^ theoretical endeavors in fields ranging from cuttvrt-al stucfies to philosophy, l~avecontrihntect to the decline of cultural a ~ ~ t h o r because iv these critics and their lodestar e m s do not write in a maniler tlrat: is readily eomprehensit>leeven to educated people who have no expertise or interest in posmodern theory, Flowever valid that may be, we still must provide an explicit elat~oration(or vatidatios-r) for the cfairn that postmodernism co~ztributesto the t~lurring or even the fla~eningof taste levels. 'rhe togical response is not at all abscurc, Postmoders-rism has, in &et, prioritized the need to break down or even reject conventional
categories of k~~owiecfgc or perccpdox-r. At the very least, most postmodernists prefer to regard the tmth of '%textsnas elusively relative rather than achowledge tlrat tlrey somehow possess an objective reality that can ultimately be determined tvitlr assurance. P o s ~ ~ o d e r n i s t s delight in mingling categories rather t11an respecdng the integriv of anes that have been hax~deddown from on L-rigli. h oi~viausexample m i g k t9e Andy Wtrl-rol m t ~ i n gfrom an earay career in commerctial desigr.1 to one in creative art that made cornmodification sirntxitar-reously the subject as well as an object sjt: his art. mTarlraland tlre many Pop artists tlrat he inAuellced went a very lring way during tlre 1960s in dexnonstrating the it-relevax~ceof tl-aditiox~altaste levels in a saciety that had come to be so donvnated and drive11 by co~xlmercial irnperaclves." One might say, I suppose, that within academe postmodernist cunceptualizations became authoritative-a new neo-orthodoxy if yrtu will. But beyond universiv circles a telltative awareness of postmoder~Gsx~ has largely sewed to a u w e l l t xnistmst: for cultural autfroriv in general, Ever since tile early xg8os, those who work in the subdiscipline caltecf ~vtturaistudies have insistently denied that there is any mcar~ix~ghl distinction bemect~high and Xow culture, Poputists with leftist polirics affirm this development. ktiists create works that clrallenge us with semit;ncetious tirIes like Is It Still EIigh AFT?By expantling the range of texts, objects, and artifacts considered suiubfc far cultural axzalpis because they contain c x p r e ~ k emeaning, scholars in cuIt-ural strrifics deliberately birrr distinctions I9emeen elite and pupuiar but alx, between "text" and "rea~jty,"6s Some of these populists seem almost sjvertly anti-intellectual, others are lost in empyrean clouds c j f theoretical uapor, but still sjtlrers are ableceively descripe-ive af major cf-ranges that have occurred as ercialization has gradually sfrl~~nl?: what: once seemed a firm fat>rie of c-tlltural garments suit.at9le for diverse clienteles, 3'he l-reterogeneiry of the clientetes may still remain, actnally, but the a t l t h u i y of elites has diminished (as we shall see in the next chapter), leaving all participants lookitlg more and more dike because they are now viewing and listening to sa maxly af the same things. The dernocratimtion af culture may have diminished diversity in the process of empowering those who once lacked much of a say ix-r what they wat-rtccf for their teisurc or edificatjon* At the very least, l-ro\vever,some of the populists lack a sense sjt: lrist o y cccillcerlling tlreir own predilecdons. C>tlrerwise tlrey would realize
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels that mockev of the holfowness of Elight9ri3w cultllre and its capaciy for pretex-rtiuusness could be heard at the very start of the m c ~ ~ t i e t h centttry. Pcflitical orientations have assuredly chatlged, but the satirizing of highbrow aspirations lrarks back to the second decade of this cenmmy. Such satire, moreovem; appeared in nucidlel~rowmapzines like The C"clntzl~(qq) and in those a step tower on the smms ladder, tikc lMlltrzseyk (191I). In the latter jxsstar-rce the mockcry was sexist as vvetl, W'alter Prichard Eaton, a respcctecf cultural critic, cornmes-rtecf that behi~sdthe lrordes wlro labor in the arts (a close paraplrrase) come the camp fdlowers, the scavengers of culture, the lriglrbrow-huntersusually wornen. 'The reward of the chase for them is the exhibition at one of their 'afterriroonskfa man wtlo has writte~za play; roasted a play [a critic], painted a picture, or othcrurisc qualified as 'artistic.' " Eaton then adcfcd that ""most of these women don% rcatXy know anpzhing about art," and Ire collctzrded that "there is some hero-worship in highbrow-hcrnting, rlcr doubt; but there is vasdy more vaniy.'"'"" During the later 1920s and "OS, k~zZjl;3 Fai~pfS ~ moiirthfy ""Tall of s L~igti-and towbrow Fame" "page loved to mock the mutual a r ~ e t i e of culture, From the f3erspective c~feditor Frax-rk C:rc~wnixsshieid and his remarkable corps CJFwriters, mingling the comic and the serious, the avant-garde and the popular, rendered distinctions between high and ~CW meaningless. From the middtebrctw perspective of F%plip l"/ziz; mingling taste levels seemed amusing and harmless, Crowninstiielci, moreovem; was co~ivincedthat in~iovatioiirin the popular arts could do much to reivahze more "efcvated" eEc~rts,A decade later, radio cornc&an Fred Alter-r er-rjoycd~pc~ofing social respectability and cultllral pretensions through his delilghthl characters in ""Alle115 Mley*" It is noteworthy that Fred Mlen was one of the most cerebral of all the great coxnedlarirs of that era, a secret that he kept very carehtly parded from his public. EIis intellectual clwalities &ght have killed his mystique as a master c(~mie.""
T h e purpose and focus of this chapter have been to demonstrate the steady augmentation, over the past e i g l ~ yyears, of a process wheretjy the historically touted disti~scrionsbemeen high and popular ctrlmre have become less significant than they were, let us say, between I 880
a d rpm--a pattern of change that has also emerged sincc midcentury in the t~Iurredrelatiox-rshipbemccn caste p~~tllies for high ~ v t m r eand mass ct~lrure. Just by way of reprise, note that in I g18 Edward Rentonhprinted guide ta runx-ring a traudetrille thcater reminded his readers that ""tire theatre draws peopfe from all sorts and cor-rditioi-rs;in particular does the vaudeville house draw fri~mboth the classes and the masses," By rgz3-24. the earliest variey shows presented on radio delit~erateiy mixed all possiMe levels of entertainment in ally siisgle program. Salvador Uali moved freely between popular culture, with his pavilion at the 1939 bVor1d"sair in Xew York (Dali's !I)regm of Enzks), and high cuIture, with his design the very same year for B~ccbx~znIe~ a l~aflet mt~untectby the Ballet Russe dc 1Vonte CarXo, 'rhe Ballet Russe also collaborated with Wilt Disney in the dance sequences for Ft~ntlfsig (I g40). h a final example, Lynn Spigel has sbcswn persuasively tlrat: television played an essen.l-ial role in the post mod er^^ blurring of high af the moder11 visual arts and low culture. "Ekle\risiox~~resex-rtation gradually made it more and Inare diffic~~lt to distinguish betweerr coxnmcrcial art and high art, a deveiopmeilt encouraged by tlire work of such prominent contemporary painters as Roy Lichte~lstein.'~ I he following question then arises: If tlre distincdons bemeern high and popular culture have steadily diminished, where does that leave the taste level that we have kllawn as nucldlebrow ever since the 1920s? 111 a Garnous essay published in 1960, Dwight ~"iilaccianaldmade an absewation that seems to turn my a t e inside out. He remarked that the Iine t9emcen Masscult and lirigh culture lirad been '?~lurred"l9y the rise of Midcult (&is words and his capitalization),"" Well, &fidcult-or middlebrow>as most of us call it-lras not bad countless champions among the culmral critics, Its most ardent devotees, actually, are to be h u n d among the culmral ex-rtrepreneurswho are the beneftciarics ctf all that ifisposabte income possessed t9y middlebrr~ws,But tlirere hove been some thuni,.hthl and illteresting obseavations about tlre important role played by middlebro\vs in our systeln of cultural stradfieadon, I Tere, for example, is what CIlement Greenberg had to say in 1953, which is before the blurring of lines l~ecamefull?; evident: c
3
"While the middlebrow5 respect for ~ v t m r emay ire too pious and txndifferen.l-iated,it lras worked to save the tradiriollal facili-
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels
10.
"Ikste-tevel chart kom 7Xe NW Ertrrpzt.l7/ic, IMarch 2 , I 932, p.
26
ties of culture-tf-te printed word, tlre concert, lecture, museum, etc.-from that complete debauching which the movies, radio, and television have suffered under lowbrow and adt~ertisingculd hard to deny that some sort of enlightenture, A11d it w ~ u / be ment does seem to be spread 011 &c hroarfer leveis of the i~sdustrialcity by middlebro\v culture, and certain avenues of taste o~jened.-"
In x yyz an unusual and unexpected dcfense of nucidlebrow cuft-ure appeared in 7Be Akzc KepuhIic? written (tonpe-in-ctteek?) by a contritruting editor to I41g1deand Esqcrz"~e, and herefore an advocate with a real stake in middlebrow 7'he essay brings us full circle in this chapter because, like Kussell LynesB essay in 1949, this one also ilscloded a chart: in order to make its categories very explicit-and also presuInably ta assert (against the grain of our time) that: categories of taste realty do maner (fig, ro). Comparing the two charts may give US a sense of difference and changc between 1949 ar~d1992. The lead categor). in 1992 is prekrence in was not a category at progrms; all in r ()+g. Other new categories in 1992: City, Bmnch ,I.iElrsic, 13q3
r I . Tfaste-le%relchart from ?"hLrf~teeet~de?; Septemt>er-OctoI~err 992, p. 83
Llilrtsic, Observer, Participant Sport and Slseetator Sport, and Tea. 13resentin rg* but gone by 1gc)z'rC:lc>thes, ITurnimre, Satads, Drinks, Sculpture, and Causes." The Utze ReaL;ker was sufficieiztly t~emusedt ~ j r"E'ad Friend"sqo2 chart to produce its own hilarious adaptation six months later, keeping some of the Nro Republic categories but adding Favorite Car, Pct, Snack, Romantic Getaway?%E;id~3~ames, Addiction, Dessert, Gollectitm, Drug, Pifgris~age,and Desigller Label (fig. r I ) , - ~741e game of pin-the-fabef an the brow level goes on; t ~ u tthe categories are infi-
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels nir-eig expandable and spoofable. I t h i l t ~dear t whether that i s because our imaginations have been enlargcd or our range of entertainments has expanded, ''The Case for Middlebro\v5' by 7;d Iirielld is lrosdle toward "culture pardians" "lie Dwight ~Vacdanafdwho did, indeed, L-reap scorn up011 ~niddlcbrowtaste baclc in the 1950s but had tjecome uricornmon and fairitg toothless by rggz. Friend does make a useh1 distinctiot~ bcmeen high art, which is ''work of ctrmplcx passion," and highbrow, wlrich is ""merely a stallce of complexity. It imputes and tlren fetishizes difSiculy for its own sake, as a way of asserti~sgcultural supel-lori.;ity.ewer the less lear~~ed.'?'~ Nrhy does nucldiebrow deserve to be rescuedN7hy does it not deserve cor1descer-rsior-r3 Because, says Friend, it entertains and educates, ""peasuratrly training us ttl appreciate high art," k is acccssiblc, unlike highbrolv objects of esteem, and it promptrs without embarrasslnellr such inescapable cmo~omsas sadness and joy. J.:ti"liddlebro\valso ""reco~mec~ the inteflecmal with the emotional. it provides some u n i v in a culture where political, social, and inteltccmal fragmex-rtatior-ris ct is to deal yet another blow to a now the IICI~MI,'b~ ~ e g i emidcttehrow civilized and informed discourse, one in which wc can all participte and have some clue about what everybociy else is talking about,":" f i l off which is fine. I can elljoy many of Friend5 middlebrow pleasures without despising higt-rt~rawor needing to soxnehow recategorize as &cldie what customarily has been deemed high, But uftimately, 1 believe, Friend helps to reinfcrrce this cl-raptcrk point about blurring, First when he acknowfecfges, at the outset, that ""l~wbnrwhas never so ~nesmerizedthe masses or carried such lrigbbrow chic," Right, I faving conquered, why slot stoopXIenee our modern propensirc~ito merge high and low. h d second, Frier-rd discards Lj~~zesS fourth category; upper-middlcbraw 2nd repfaces it with his own Eolrrth category. IEe calk it highlct-c\;brrw, whieh hight~rtrwcorrdesccndir~glyctr-opts I ~ W . " I'm ~ not sure that the co-opting does not happen the other way around, But in any case, Friend helps to make my pr~int.All amount of ~nixinghas ocerln-etl that few would have imagined two getleratictns aga7" Reliable cor-rfirmatior-rof that comes from none other ti~anItussell Lynes. In r 976 the soon-ttl-be dehnct Wa.fhz"zzgilonStcar asked him ttl write a kind of postscript to his still-famous 1949 essay for H/rrperIc: wlrat bad changed and what, if anythi~sg,had relnained constant?
Lyneskornmeiltri provide strong confirmation that brow levels had bccc~rnemuch less significant after t\?ienty-seven p a r s , despir-c.the fact levels lrad nor disapg-reared entirely, "I'hey just did not correthat late very clearly wiclr social status, ievefs of education, or afBuence. 'I'he Ljazes postscript follows in its entircv,"
In the nearly 30 years since "Highbrow, Lowbrolv, &fiddlel>rowfkwaspublished, the highbrow has chaiirged his cosmme and Iris whislcers severat times, the middlebrows have hared aff after a succession of "'ups" and "pops" a7d 'Wccrss'hand "'Mary hart mar^" "ice), and the towbrows have fc~uxrdArchie Bunker and CB radios and galne shows with wlriclr to amuse and identify themselves, T h e lines of my arbitray categories lrave l~ecomeeven mare indistinct than they were in xyqy. But, t l~efieve,the basic pattern stil Iras some vatidity, ar, if not the pattern, at least the underiying hcd of nails, which is taste. The adaption [sic) and exercise of taste will, I expect, always t9c a serictws social game as long as taste is regarrled as a guide to s m i s and people are cc>ilvincedtlrat tlrere are durable standards of ""good taste" and that ""bad taste" is what their inferiors hiwe, "t"he higirbrows in the E Y ~ Qyou S , will recall, had a rather rough time of it. It was the decade of the McCarthy invcsrigations, of Adlai Stevc~rson'stwo defeats as a car-rdidate for President, and, perhaps, worst of all, the arrival of televisio~l-a symbol of mass middlebrowism. It was, moreover, the era of Sputnh t and the shacked clamor for Inare scie~ztihetraining. NThilethat indcient uftimately gave a good manjr intellectuals an improwd trargaijring positio~~, it WBS not the humalrists, the preceptors of taste, who benefited, The IGsenhc~weryears did not supply the highbrows with the czpportranities that tlre election of Kennedy seemed to offer; if only briefly. And, despite Lady Bird Jalrnso~zHefforts ta continue to fiald high the torch. af culture, her Irusbaiird was barely tolerant af what higfibrows considered her wetl-intcr-rtioxrdflirtation with the arts, * Froin the Wg.ri7~~1gt0.1~ SE"~IP; Oct. 24, 1976, sec. F, pp, r , 4, and the F9iiLco;lr @ ~ r ter!~,I (jiluturr~n19761, I 58-60. Rcl>rintcitwith &c per~nissiunoEAlrs. ~IvlildredLynes and &e F#.illron Q r i r : ~ ~ c ~ - & .
R I N I I - I ~the I ~ Bold,undtl~-iesBetween Tmte Levels During the 1960s it was fashionable to take note of "the GVImral explosiox-r,"Vastly expensive ~vtmralcenters t>urgco~-rccS in cities across the land, and it was generally agreed that atiture was good for the communirg: atld hence good for business. Cutt-ure, you &ght say was regarded as civic Gerital. Comznunity theaters popped up like toadstools, xnasy with tile beneficence of the Ford l;{;oundation,Es&blishccS art rntxseums wcre crowded as never before; new ones appeared by the dozer-rs,and ct~mmercid art galteries mlrltiplied at a rate almost as heathtaking as the prices of the wares in which they dealt. EIigh in the Berkshires (the home of "it'angiewood, lkfusic lkfountain, JacobWiiiow), where I was born and which used to be dairy countsy; there were suddenly more violinists than there wcre c o ~ ~ors ,so it seemed. "I'he highbrows found all &is confilsing, Ot9viously they could not oppose public entlrusiasm for the arts>at least not to rhe point: of wishing to turn off the faticet that dripped gold into their pockets, 'f1'Ere.y did not want to put a crimp in anjqhing that svporred the azfgnt.gdrde, though they persisted in passionate disptcs ahomt the prcrblems of Inass ctlitrrtrc. vs. high d t u r e , hkclreover, they now had to protect their flanks, not just fri~m rhe midcllebmws, but: from the acscivist young, rlre members of rhe dissident cirunter-culture wlrn thought that the highbrows were just as respos~sittlefor h e r i c a k sins as the banlcers, Some adult highbrows tried to idend@ themseltres with the young radicals onfy to tliscover tl~iatthey wcre not wanted and not consicterecf trusmortl~yAnd, since evef.ybody now had beards and rehwed to ctress according M the old d e s , how coulcl a poor highbrow tell who were friends and who were enemies, who was serious, who not? 'I'lze upper-middlehraws, a n the other L-rand, feft a surge of aesthetic adrenalin, 'fo seme on the board of &c local opera compmy became every bit as s s c i a h ilesirabfe as being on the exectrtive committee of the Commus~iqand, ntJw9 VV~ICJI the arts change wit11 a rapidiw unknclwsl before, being uppermiddlebrow involves cc>llsiderablepsychic strain, As I look at the cl-rart, which a L$[Er editor ancl 1 cor-rcocted over imumerable cups of coffee 2 7 pears ago, it strikes me, as it mrtst ytm, that what was highbrclw tl~enhas bewme discinctiy upper-middlcbrrlw today, Who regards an Earnes chair as highbrow slow? Or ballet, or an unwashed salad bowl or a Calder ""sabile"? They have aif become thoroughly upper-midcilebrc~w~ and what was upper has l~ecornelower. Only the lowbrow line of the chart stil xnalces spirit-ual if not literal sense. "E'oday tefevision would find itself at all levels of the chart in ways too al~viorzs t-o define, 7'he "pilli" has taken gtalnor out of Planned Parenthood as a11 uplocr-middlebrow cause, and Art is mow their cause i~sstead,and so on, It is a gasne anyone call play Even if the si-rapemfthe pieces have cha~~ged, and the board looks quite differer-rt,the t~asicrules seem to me much the same as they always wcrear-rd .as ix-rsoient.
Criticism and the Dan
Culmral expertlx as a social force co~~veyed by people who functiar-r as authorities has the capacity to bestow legitimacy.or respectabi1ir-yupon a culttlral custom or ""prodrrct" in the t~n~acfest sense of thase terxns, C:t~lturat arrthoriv may also embody or manifest ~vlmralpower; "ut authoriry and power are nor exactly the same, and it lras not been commonplace for tlre two qualities to be combined. CIultural power intiolves the productiox~, promotiox~, and disseminatior-r of cuft-ural artifacts,. N7hereas critics and museuxns, for example, are expected to have cxitural autboriv (and hist-oricaitg they did more oket-r than not), mtwie studios ar-rdacfwrtising agencies arc understood to exert ~vlmral power, k%Tecannor put too fine 3 point on the disri~sctiion,however, Orgai~izaric.)ns and individuals wlro nominate books, films, and performers for awards and prizes, for example, possess elerne~~ts of both authorilry and power. Iluring the mid- and later Victorian era, hlantl-rcw h o l d and his discipies on troth sides of the Atlax-rtic associated the desigx-ratiox-rand legitirrUzarion of cultwe with sofCid aurboriry, that is, the wellesrablislred social order and its ins.citu~ons."I'hey believed that ctrlmre (mearinng high culture) sewed as a function of social authority and would help to counteract the undesi~xbfete~~dency toward anarci~y. C~rlturalautboriv is no longer tl-rc actusivr: preserve of any single stratlrrn of sociey or type of professiclnaf group. rI'here are ~vlmral
autboritics in the realm of rock rntxsic as well as ciassicaX mt~sic,in the fine arts and in film, lWttX-x the passage CJF time, hc~wevcr,significant shifts lrave occtrrred. A professional class (or cadre?) of cultural authorities esnerged I-tehre the turn of the centuy and by the period, say, x y 10 to 1940, such people exercised and exgoyed a very considerable degree of clout. 'f'lzeir numbers included relatively few scf-rofars, For about three decades folftwing World K%r11, pecrple from aGadcrne ifid enjoy a remarkable amtlunt of visible culturat authtorit-y, but that trend has receded llcsticealtty since tlre 1g70s. :Meanwhile, ordinay peoplethe consumers of cultural artifacts-lrave steadily increased their C I W ~ cuItural authoriq, especially in the past forty years or so. A film a r a rock group or a play (musical or dramaGc) may not be well received by critics, yet ex-rjoy cotssidcrable mccess at the box office x-revcrthcless. &tloret>ver,it can also happcr-r that movies admjrccf by the critics may &il to achieve popular appeat, That is a sjgllificatltaspect d t l r e demncradzation of culture, CIultt~ralexpertise (in contrast to scientific or teci-r~zical expertise) does not possess tile infiuence that it did earlier in the mentieth cenmrq;: "What emerged to help mpplar-rt culttlrat at~thorivwas more than just a roie "iar public opinior-rthat acquired increasing confidence aficr ~nidcenttfry,Sources c>fculturalpower srrong enough to rmke a difference despite tlreir lack of legitimizing authority pushed traditional forms of (~lllmralexperdse aside a r re~zderedthem far less influex-rtial than they had once been. 1 l-rave in mind the usuait suspects: ~zatioxzal media (despite being mistmstect by the !?ut~,ljc),Zfoilg~n;ood,public re1atior-r~and advertising agencies, large corporatiior-rs, and even goverllment. "I'hese entities, exercising considerable ct~lruralpclwer with very little concomitant a u t l r a r i ~profsusldly ~ affected the ways in which hericaxzs used their leisure and entertained themselves, especially frarn the later r950mnward. When Russell Lyrics pul~lisfredThe ~ ; J T P M ~ @ ~ ~in ' P "1954, $ he had in mind wrmin kinds of individuals and social groups, pal-timlarly a-irics and persons with a special degree oP cultural cachet. mTitbina decade the determirzatio~~ of what got published and read, whose art was extnibited and purctlased, whose nus sic got perfor~nedor played on the radio, where tourists wel-rt and what they did when they got there, was being made by entitics w-rmentioned 'That is yct another litmus of the wansition from in The Estcn~~kr~*s. popular culture and diverse taste public$ before tlre 1950s to mass culture and ~ n m homngeneous e taste pui~licsafter that decade.
Czfltrcr-ltlCriti6i.v~and the P ~ n s f o m a t i u nof Cz~lturiclA rcthurity
Ml of which meax-rsthat, once again, close antentjot1 to c i ~ r o n c ~ f o ~ ~ to patterfls ctf cllange over rime, is vitally important to our understanding of these issues and developments. So, tcm, is tlre scorecard of American arbiters of taste: who acquired i~sfirtence,who lost it, and why. Finally, we must also fi~ctorin the gradual si-riksin herica1-r attitudes toward authoriv and power, Why were they Inare likefy ta defer to the former in the ~ g z o sthan they wcrc hatf a centru9 later? "Why did they feel more manipulated and hetpiess in the face of pclwer x-retworks by the 1970s and 1980s than they bad six or seven decades eart i e v a f l with specific regard to their cultural pursuit.;? "I'hat is our age~zdafor ti~isclrapte~
It is weU knows1 that European visitors to the Ut~itedStates during the second qtrarter of the nineteetnrh century were intriped by a novel plzenomenon, social as well as political, that 11earl-y evemyone dcsig~zatedby a singie word for tile sake of effieier-rcry:dernoctraicy. Sornewhat iess c~itrriorzs,hc~wcver,was one c~fthe most impor~ai-rtdevelopments sustaining democratic tendencies, namelj~,&c teveling of authoriry; And that really rneatlr political and social authoriv, for the most part, because cultural autlroriq t~arelyexisted as a cttstomary force in American life and had scarcely any instimtionat embodiment as yet, As the 11istariai-r Robert \Rebe has phrased it, from a European perspective ""t~estatcs wcrc sociefy itself: whc~set the rules in publichwhc~had access to pubtic spaces? who had prlorlv therehrhc~ctsuid take an initiative? wlro had the right to choreograph other people's snmmenrs (as in parades)hwho made decisialls about who spoke, about who spoke to whom, about what could be said! Stams and manners, ixz the inclusive European ser-rse of the term, meant power. 'IRey controlled the k~nctioningof pllblic iife.'" By the mid-1850s the fractious nature of American putllic life, prccipitated particnlal-ly by slavery, secriotlalism, and party frapenration, left men like k%%ltmirman wotlderinff &out potenr-ial remedies and coxztemplating as the best solution ""throwing off atxthorit-y" and cufti\rating "coundess t~reedsof great indikriduals, tile eternal and only anchor of states,?'In the sectmd edition of Let~vesof'Gt*gs.r(I 856), Whitman obsenred that mar-r-made laws in the United Spates had proven tt, be corrupt. Consequently, he encouraged his readers to regard laws
tightly and tcr FoIIow ""inside authorlc)lPnmeax-ringtbeir own c o n s ~ i e ~ ~ e e , In such poems as '% AMman Waits For Me'' and "'Responifez!," moreover, -,%itman offered the same guidance concer~li~sg social and cultural matters, 110 nor feel bound by social conven~cms.Be your own cwltural authority. Follow your awxi uroscoye," Mter the t-urmoii of Civil 'War and Reconstruction, however, a very ifiEerent ethos emergcif concerning attimdes toward atrtlloriry and custcrdiar-rsaf itespecially in the realm of cutture, 'T"lre major jo~zrnals of opi~siantlrat did so much to d e h e and refine h e r i c a n tasteThe ,Vation, the Not~hAme~-icanReview, Atlgntie rWonth4>and The Cirrztzl~-were ~nanagedby sociafly coi-rservati~remen who prided themselves a n being pmdent arl~itersaf taste. 'l"ke likes af E:. L, Gotikin, Witliam Dean Howefls, and Kichwd Watso1-r Gjfder swikiy m e tcr be recogr-ri~das pillars of respeceal9iliv and crtltrrrat atlthorities to be reckoned with. Defining and perpetxlacitlg the Genteel *Iaradirion for almost four decades was their bewtziskered, buttoned-up achievexnent. 'l"hat was also an era when sociafly prominent (tii~ougirnot nccessarlly elite) women achieved a modicurn af culmrat a~rtlloriv-some in philar~thropyor as patrons of the arts, others in cooperation with clera m e n as custodians of domestic life and the moral sphere, most elften by lneans of temperance rehrm and (along with men) the so-cded purity or anti-vice crusadc,"'l'he Womaxl's Christian 'rexnperance tilsior-rt~ecaznea ge~iuineforce for a full ge11eratiar-raker its creaGoxl in r 892, as tlid women like far-reAdcfarns and I;torence Ketley i n developing institt~tio~nai ncmorks to assist ~~ewcomers and the needy in industl-zalized America. Wcjmen could also achieve recognidcrn as ct~lrural authorities by leading educational insl.imtions or publishing works about the h e r i c a n pastt, cspeciafly in the realm of state and local history." !VIE-S.Schuylcr Van Re~-rsselacrwrote copiously about the history of New k r k Cjty, ab11~1tthe lristor)r of archittlcture in the Old \Vc~ritfand the New, &,out painters and paincing in all periods, Her lrnrtamr). essap are interesring because oP rl-reir Americas1 chauvinism, because sire ir-rcluded ""bousehofd arts," industrial. arts, and L~andicraftsalang with her adrrocaq of the decorative arts, and t~ecauseof her patroi-rizh r art in the United States broader ing effort to make the atrdic~~ce and more ix-rclusive,As she co~~ctuded one characteristic essay in Scribnerk "it is wise to try to develop a public for such artists as may be granted to us. 8nd it is wise to try to . . . increase attentivesless, Irtlo\YI-
Czfltrcr-ltlCriti6i.v~and the P ~ n s f o m a t i u nof Cz~lturiclA rcthurity edge, and the sensitiveness that means good taste fc~rthe sake of our people as individuals wishing to lead interesting and happy lives."" Judging by editorials and the content of ""qaliyP5magazines in the lanr nitleternth anci early wetnrietlr centuries, many Americans sought and valued the pidance of cultwal authoriv, At: the turn af the cenmry iWc6"l;lrre's xnagazine Lligt-rlighted the authoriv af its writers 11y pnrviding bylirses (an innovation) and even biographieai sketches uf its contr-it~~~tors, including their u n i m r s i ~degrees, prcrfessional positiotls, and other public accivides. A rgrq essay in The Dial &sparaged the commonpface phase, "there's no) accounting for differetlce in taste," Such a perl~issibreattimdc revealed "our disbelief in intellect and in tile importance af rigorous intellectual discipline.?' Nrorse still, acceptance of such a view would mean that hxcricans had ""bax-rishccf authorit~rfrom our tivesm----not a desirable outcome,&loving dcwn from patrician levels of taste, we find in this same period attel-crpts by the matnu6acttlrers of s p o r t i q goods to publish authoritative nuletlooks and pidefines that woufd not only regularize athletic cornpetitiox~ but require tile use af particular equipmel-rt. Mcmbcrs of the public who wanted a) pia). ""Fe game" as it was supposed to be f.-riayedarclcomed such pidclines, 'li-rrning to a diEcrent vetlue, early in the t-urentieth cerlturq. matlagers in manufacturing sinrations sought to diminish the "workplace authority of skilled lrands whife simultaneously increasing on all worlcers the discipiinay weight: of xnacbine-driven jobs, time-motiox~studies, and piece rates.?'" fprovided apt expression," Cult~rralauthority for Pcrli emerged from his cclmplex relationships with various civic leaders, the public, and the performers themselves, X Iis advertisements for female performers were very carehlly worded. ""lsskirting the border line of social wickedness and weakness," he wo~zldwrite, "bliss 'rhorntt)~-r shows that rare atriliv of touch and sentiment, and withal that artistic d.elicarr)r that amnunt to positive genius. . . ." I%oti walked a fiprarive tightrope that enabled him to appeal sirnul~ner>uslyto somewlrat
prrtricnt ix-rtcrests as welt as respectable ones. FSe had learned in the r8gas to carehlly negotiate multiplc meanings of "'cnltrrral refinement." Like B, E Keith and Edward Albee, widely known far the prudish respectabiliv of their distinc.t-ive ""Sunday School Circuit," h l i rernained ail enterprising pseudo-culmral authoriv for successful va-crderrilleduring a fiercely competitive generation."" If-\the 1920s a remarkable l-tulnberof enwr~ainmententrepreneurs, many of them immigrax-ttsor the sor-rsof jmmigrar-rts, combined covert cultural authoritry with overt cultural power in developilsg Elol1yxvood film studios, radio rnemorks, and e n ~ e e like s tlre Book-of-the-LMo~~~th Club (in the case af 1 Iarry Sclzerman), invariably successf-;xlbecause of their savvy in learning to swaddle taste levels, a sklf that would later be raised to a higher plane of expertise by those who ran mass media from the 1960s or-rwards. 1;dwarct Rerr-rays ackj-tt~~~lecfgcd and adroittg finesse4 a crucial question that had been raised by mass psyehr>tczm: "wlrere exactly was cultural authoriv located?" "ernays admitted that ""sme ~nysteriousalchemy" existed in the relatior-rst-ripbemeen instimtior-ral power and popufar desire-2s historian af cornrnu~lications Stevcn Smith l-ras remarked, "a vifpe interchange of elitist ledership modified and rcspot-tsive to popular wa~-rts.'"" Simultaneously, between I g2 2 and I gz g %%alter Lippmarnn erngaged a compard~Ieissue----tire nature, role, and power of p d h c opinion in a dcxnocracy-from the perspecti~reaf a IzewspqerlBan wha took his respoi-rsibilities as a cuItural arbiter very seriously; In x yz 2 , wl-ren he published his prrrfrjundfy influential book f i h l i i c OpZ~irr~~ he wrestled p h i j o s ~ p h i d ywith the role of the press as an efticctive agcl-tt of culrural aurhori.;itr~,
I a r p e that representative government, either in what is ardiwarily calfed politics, a r in industryI cannot be worlced successk~tly,no matter what the t~asisCJF election, unless there is an ix-rdependent,expert organjzatiot-t for making the rrnscen facts inte1ligitjle to those who have to ID& the &cisions, 1 a t t e q t , rherefore, to argue that the serious acceptance of the p'inciple by reprethat personal representatiox~must l9e supplerne~~teci senmtion of unseer-r hcts woufd alane permit a satisfiactory deccntraiizatior-r,and allcm us to escape from the ix-rtoleratrleand fiction that each ctf us must acquire a compeknt urt~;c_trkable opinioz~about a11 pubtic affairs,
Czfltrcr-ltlCriti6i.v~and the P ~ n s f o m a t i u nof Cz~lturiclA rcthurity Later in the same very substantial work, Liypmarnrn mggcsted that ""in the present state of education, a publjc opinion is primarily a moralized and codified version of the fiacts."" =tTeverbefore had an h e r i c a n observer or critic cclllsidered public opinion itself as a sesni-autor-roinaus forin of cuft-ural authority, Mter x 9-35,when Cieorge G l l u p established the hericaxr tastimte of Pubtic Opiniorn, pofling mweys 011 a wide variety- ~ f s u f ~ j e cbecame ts cornmonplacc-anif gradualiy more noticcd. P o k had not yet f9cccrme overly i~sfiuential,as they are today, but John Q, 13u;blicbegan to recognize himsel-P,c11 masse, as a source of authari.;ityto be recktjncd with. By the Inter 1930s, as market sumej~sand public opinio1-r research accelerated, some social scies-rtistsbegair to worry about the impact of polting an opinion and behavior, What they referred to as "'a sense of numbers" could sway cornvietif>nsand cause pccrpte to think less ir~tlependently; Polls would soon he perceived as more than just a lneasure of public opinion: they lczomed as potential modes of persuasioll in themselves.'" By 1928 Lippmann had become deeply concerned to curb tile power and the authority of p ~ ~ b i opinion. ic He Found the inhrnous Scopes Trial of 1925 scary, not f9ccause pec~plein Tennessee rejectecf evoludonary tlret~ryin fiavor of literal belief in Scripture btrt because the legislature they elected had the constitudonal right to determine what woufd and would xzot be taught in public schools. Lippmann wandered wfiether dcxnacracy had perjlaps run amuck. Could the people reafly d e themselves? W'ere majorities tr~itgthe kest judges of the public good? Perhaps put~ljcissues had become tcro ccrrnplcx for ordinary people to comprehend rationally. In A It"~-$nce to ~Wor*i~ls (1929), Lippmann expressed his grave concern that the new technologies making it possible for papufar cufhzre to flouris11 disengag-ed !&actsfrom their causes and cas-rtexts, with the consequer-rce that they are only "'half-knc~wn,"L i p p ~ ~ a nmiist n I~avebeen deeply Ciismaycd lay a r p p j polt in which 3,243 Americans were asked: "Ifyclr I-radto give up eitl-rcr reading the newspapers or listening to the radio, wlriclr one would you give up?" Sixry-hur percent said newspapers at1d only 29 percent a~zsweredradio.' Lippmann devoted the fifth chapter of A Pr&re i"o iworglr to ""'1"he Breakcfown of Authorir):" IBssicaliy he had in mind both retigious and govcrnmentai authorit-y, because religion no longer ex-rjoyed the universal dominion that it once did and because religious obligations had
t~ecomeless cornpetling, for example, than patriotism. "faken in the context of his other arrirings and the sc~xlarizaticlnof American life in the 1920s~Lil~pmanncertainly intended to depict a crisis of cutrural authovity quite particular in namre,'" hfeaz~while,a culture of professional expertise had emerged in the decade foltowing N70rld War I. It was exemplified, in ge~zeral,bjr the swift asccr-rtof the social scicnccs to prominence, and more l~articularitg t9y Robert 15 Park and his disciples in urban socioloe at tl-re University of Chicago; by Charles E. &iEerriarn8behavioral approach to political sdernce emplrasizing social psyelrolcz~;by in-deg3tl~sudiesof hnerican communities coxzducted I I , ~the L y ~ ~ dN7. s , Lloyd Nral-ner, a i d other pios~eersaf an ethnographic approach to the lives and social stmcsurc of ordinary Americax-rs, W'liat these schofars shared was ar-r emphasis upon tl7e empirical rather than the thetrretical, upon veritiraide ohservarions rather than i q r e s i o n i s t i c generalixatiotls, upon indepth case studies rather than blithely ignoring the difkrences that resulted from race, religion, ethnidty3a i d geographical diversill~r." 'l"ke ixnpticaGox~saf their experdse had rnore to do wit11 pubXic pali ~ ?than with ~ v l m r eas we have keen examining it here, Rut they had exact contempc~rarieswho received recogrsition as experts in the realms of literature, music, art, and even popular ct~lrure,When Stt~arr 13ratt Sherman became the editor of ""B>oks" for the AWewf"nk ElrrrtzU Tribzine in 1924, he disavowed the iiratio~xthat his new, izoz~acadexnic role made L-rixn a culmral authority even while he began to perform exactly that role as a literary arbiter. In 1926, when Eclmund Wlso1-r wrote his arzor-rymons '"AII-Star Literary l-iaudeviilc," a widely discussed essay; he obsemed that Sberman "now occupies what has perhaps become, from the popular poisst of view, the central desk of authoriv to which each aF the performers in the all-star drcus, from Ben 1Xecht to Klng Lardner, steps up tu receive his endarsement.'""" In 1926, when I-lcnrp Seidef (.:anby a prcrfesscjr of titerature at Yale, t9ecarnc chairman CJF the sclectiox-r committee for the Book-of-t-ti~cLlilorntlrClub, Ire too achieved nadonal recognition as a preerninent lite r a y authoriv in the United Scat-es. T h e radio progral-crs that ctnjctyed broad appeal asnollg middlebrows during the 1930s because they discussed and recoxnmended books ta potexzdal readers also received accolades as reliable sources of pubtic a u t i ~ o r iXnterestingty ~, enough, radio itself became a mode of crtlturaf authorit?. during the rr)jos. k%%y313ublic opinion polls taken during the later 19jos showed that thirty million A~~ericans, nearly one adult in tlrree, doul~ted&t: hen-
Czfltrcr-ltlCriti6i.v~and the P ~ n s f o m a t i u nof Cz~lturiclA rcthurity esty or the fairness of the press in the United States, That perceptiorl rewflted in p r t horn the presidential campaign of 1936 which Roosevelt wan in a landslide even though a majoriq of h e r i c a n newspapers opg-rosed him. Per~pledecided that radio broadcasting of puMic affairs was a lot more reliable than newspapemcoverage.'; 'l"ke Natio~~al Better Business Bureau, established in 1yzg as a kind ctf privately operated Federal rIirade C:ornmission, had as one ctf its major responsif9ilities monitclring t17e i ~ ~ t e g rofi ~national ~r advertising* It could not become a major source of cultural authority9 lrr~wever, because it bad no weapons of enforcement. Gr~~~sequently, it played the role of referee, promoting tioluntary codes of professio~~alism. It also Gaced a problem in trfing to draw a tine bemeen borderline transgressions and scri(~usones: for example, when the hxcrican Tobacco C:ornpa~~y advertised, "Reach for a Lucky instead of a sweet!" Even at the peak of its influence during the intenvar years, the consumer movement consisted of too maily disparate groups, ranging from clubwarnell to orgarinzations for consumer education to the testing agencies, like Consumer's Research and dle Car~suxnerkUruox~. Because there have been so marly expos-rrres of falsc adwrtising, of phony quiz sl-rclrvswith '"tar" cconteseants who h e w the ~estior-rsin advance (and the answers), and controversies with so-called experts aligned on opposite sides, deference to expertise is clearly less compelling ti~anit was for alrrrost four decades starting in the 1920s. Nevertheless, strikng ma~zifestationspersist ancl nowhere more than in the realm of crxltrure, W'lien an exhihition CIFphc~tographsby Robert &tl;apptethorpeat Cjncinr-ratii's CC:er-rterfor C o r ~ t e s n p o r aArt ~ in rggo resulted in a trial of the muserrm9.;director for displaying child pornography and for ""pandering obscenitry," &fense a ~ o r n e y scalled twelve museum curators as witnesses, Jurors acknowledged after the acquittal that they were persuaded by expert testisnonj~that art did not L-rave to t9e t~eautihlin order to qualif'y as art; ar~d,moreover, that &tl;appfcthcrrpeh3hrcrtographs ifid have artistic merit. Here was a very clear insance where the culture of expertise remained quite potent, indeed, right into the 1990s.'~
C:uinrrat critics have had a sig~~it-rcant role to play in American sc~cieq ever since early cotczllial tiines, but the kinds of people they were and the kinds of roles they played have changed over a span tlrat is now
nearly four ccr-rt-uries,For most of the prerevt~lutionaera, the r o k of cultural critic was pcrforxnecf primarily by the ciergy. 7"hey gave jeremiad sermons wartling the sociery against such evil ways as alcoholism, prostitution, excessive usuq, fc~rnication,and violadons of the Sabbath. 'l-hey also preached that or-rlya socictr)r in accord with ncethe sponsors and networks achiwed total cor-rtrot, by 19-59, series like Rod Scrting3 iinnovadve T;iIE'ght Z~ne were anccfed. After r 960, the lowest common denomi* Frectric IWertham, a C;esman-trained psychiatrist, singled c ~ tmass ~ t cwlture as the most irnportanc cause of juvenile delinquency It was largely because of his intilucncc possible link,.; bemeen that: a C.S. Senate sut3comminee spent several years e~:xplori~~g mass cnlturc (conlic l>ocrb,frfm, and tcIet7isiun) and cicIinquc~~cjr. By 1957, when the hearir~psended, little had been achieved in the way of ct~ntrols.Corporate power exescisect with rrrodest prr~denceat appropriate m(>nxentsotltmilneu\~eredc-urltural authority.
nator ix-rvariablywon, "fhe x-remorks had no use for the Eun~pcansystem of pitching &%rent types of brrradcasts firr variatlle taste levels, * I he clltreprelleurial power of commerce totally cruslred the recomlnelldarions of such cultural autlrarides as Jolrn C;rosby, Jack Could, and Gilbert Seldes-prominent televisios-r critics who pleaded for diversiy Long behre tile c~~untercdture that uTcassociate wiri-, the 1960s m e into being, there were prominent incfividuals who anaeked authoriv, though nest ctrlt-ural authariv per se, as a rule. T h e filmmaker LMackSellllett once fondly recalled his celebradon of allarchy in the Keystone comedies of tire silent film em. "hespecially liked the reductios-r of authority to absurdity9the notion that sex could be h ~ i i ~ y , and the bold ins~.tts hurled at Pretensjon," did Sennettk audiences, and so did apparently. So did the hlarx Brothers from 1928 c.)~-nlvard, Fred Mlcn tvhen he persistendy satirized order, power; propriery; and respeetabiliq. So did Lenny Bruce and 2V1or-t Sahl a generation later, "E'he sirnation t~ecaineinteresting and ironic in 1967 when Dr. Benjarnin Spocrk, a cuft-ural-authoriy 6gure for a generadon, chaltenged ptrbiic authoriy by way of his acrivc opposition to the U,S. r o k in Netnam. He achietred considet-abte pubticiy for antiwar prclkst because of his presrige in the r e a h of child care,'" What must be grasped here is a certain complexiry in h e r i c a n atdtudes.. Foreig~lobservers have often plaj~edup an k n e r i c a ~tradition of resista~zceta authoriv going back at least to the Revolution of r 776, if not to the initial decision to emigrate from the Old World to the New." Hut the matter i s not nearly so straightforward; xjmehow a ~nysteriouslyinvisikle line seems to exist. On one side are generally accepahfe occasions and ways of resisting autho~riy-politicd, social, or cuXmx-.rl-l-angIng frarn the views of 'lTkomasjeffersai-r to the coxnedy of lkfack Sennett and Fred Allen. But then there are more controversial anti-authoritarians9 rarlging from John Brown to Eugene V, Dcbs toJitn and hrtic Mitcheli (who began making pornographic films in the later 1960s) to Jerry Rtri~inand &bie Hoffiwan,'" Athie E I o f i ~ a na, leader of the Eppies during the 1960s and "as, ma~~aged to combine oppasidan to 110th political power cult-ural authoriq. t le cf-rerished the coup by a Souther11 Cafifornia chapter of Mppies who ~ucceecledi n piall tir-rg a 17jet Cong flag on nil aunt &latterhorn in Disr-reyland. When it came to drugs, H o f f ~ ~ aachieved n fame for his slogan ""Btter living through clrernistry." h d wlren the FBI t-
""
Czfltrcr-ltlCriti6i.v~and the P ~ n s f o m a t i u nof Cz~lturiclA rcthurity authorized a manhunt for Hog1:nan after he skipped bail in 1973, he thereupon. tlis~ruisedhimself and took a tour of the main FBI builditlg in Washington, I3.C hTn3thing deligl~tsthose who Bout ctrlrural authoriv so muclr as irony. EIence tlre belnusernent wlren the AiEc2rmon "E'abernacieChoir sang """l"hisLand ts Yaur Land," appare~ztlyuxlaware that Nroociy G u t h r i e h n t h e m was writte~zin 1940 as a hfa&st revon" lrving Bcrtia"sTC;oJ Bless Ameria" (irgjS)," 'P"hose prominent culturat authorities of the 1950wnd 1960s who con.l-inued to lroldi a subst.;lntial audience did nor convey messages tlrar would make h e r i c a n s feel better about themselves and their societ-)r, f3avid Eesman and his coltcapes told the cousirtsy in The Lozze4 C"ststozi7cZ (rg50) that it had lost its k-runted individwalism and that hnericans were excessively preoccupied with being the kincfs af people others wanted or expected them to be. Being '"her-directed" was not a cornplirnent. Vance Pacbrd wanled the llarion of sinister adlrertisilsg schemes clesiglled to persuatle h e r i c s n s to buy things they realty llid not want a r need. Ife then added insuft ta insecurity l y raising the ante a n Riesman and carnpaiiry. I3ackard told h e r i c a n s that they were stams seekers-a familiar story for those wha recaXlecf T11orsteirr (x 8991, except that Packard's indictVeblenUheoiy ofrhe Leisure CIMSS lnellt included a much larger percentage of tlre populace. Eelward R, Llilrtrrow'stelevisic3n programs ,See It and 12erson to Per.con, were nor so insufting to their viewers, yet they conveyed rnessagcs that all was not welt in the USA Americans were either the dupes of a dcxnagape tike Senator McCarthy or else caitorls toward the ex~3loic;ition of migratory labor, As a critic of Cold W7itrAmerica, Murrcr~rogered tittle Ilttring subsequent decades cultural authoriv has become less visible, less patent, fragme~irteci,and among some circles even sharply criticized far Gailing to make any difference at ail in helping the general pubtic appreciate or urlderstar-rd the more complex culturat issues and chaltex-rgcs af our time, h4ore often than not, the idiosyncratic reactions of audiences to ctrltural "pzroducts" seem tnto lnatter more than wlrat culrural critics have to say. As Isaiah Berlin wrote to Ciarson Kanin, the piay;lrright and scree~zwriter,in 1962: ""teednt go into 'critics versus audiegzcesktc., etc. you have had the same experience." (.:aught bemeen the g r ~ w i n gpower of alrdiences as we8 as cork3orate America, the roie and irs-rpact of ~wlturaicritics were greatly diminished in 1g8o compared, let us say, with a half centrry e a r h z i c
By the rg7o"t became cornmonyfacc to say that the academic disciplines cnstomariiy regarded as major sctlzrces of crrltut-at criticism--literary smtlies, sociolonPand atnrhropolou-were in ciisarray? their discourse utterly distant horn cultural clienteles in need of compreL-rensible pida~zce,'l'he disciplines themselves were deeply divided over the merits and patex-rtial utitity of poststmcturalism and postmodernis~x.Those modes of inquiv sent m e s ~ a g that ~ s everJrone (and therefore no one in particwlar) l-rad adequate credentials fs~redrrating a performance or a text, As a consequence, the very concept of culrural authority was undermined even more, Books and essays began to appear in the 1980s bemoaning the faiture of acadcxnic inteflecmals to serve any kind of socially useful role as "pubtic intellect-uails," According to such observers, tl-rose men and women best suited by training and experience to serve as meaninghl cutmral critics had altdimtecf their potenrial roles, a serious neglect of their responsibiliry as cirizens* By the 1990s the voices of such major Gpres as hci-ribald l\facLeisf-r, Mary ;McCartI-ry, Lioxzef and Dia~za'fiilling, Phitip Rahv, and Lewis hjurnhrd had been sti'flcc6,Others, like William H. &%pc, either had been diverted to other cor-rcernsor had been antractecf into a neo-conservative orbit tl-rat led tlrern to direct more criticism at their erswhile cofleapes than at the changing cultural dyt-ramicsand pl~eIzamel-ra of our time, t lence a major over'65iew story in the New )/of-k Tiezes begall this way in I 990: "it has l~ecomecomznanptace to lament the ~~asjnng of the day when thinkers like jarnes B, Conar-rtand Lewis Mumhrd played as influential a roie in politics as t o d a y h e d i a advisers, Eve11to those who consider themselves among the last holdouts, the questit111is no longer whether innllecmals we in hiding, but why"" As the cultural critic Simon Frith insisted in 1997, as part of a plea for the ret~italizatioxzof cufmral authoriy in response to the real world that .nTclive in: '"opd ar cr;litrrral activities-ti ke atl ~wlturalactivitiesdepend on judgments. They are organized around patterns of cjiscrimination and difference, through arg~~ments about the good and the bad." Cultural criticism needed to be resuscitated and revalorized." 1x1 1984 one of the most distinguished and wide-ranging intellectuals in the United States participated in a sylnposiuxn devoted to """Fhe Public Benefits of the Arts and the Humai-rities." 'thcrlrg1-r his is not a fagxiliar hoarsel-rold name, Michacl Watxcr, filrtnerly a professcrr of political science at E-larvard, is now a professrlr at tlre presegious Ilssri-
Czfltrcr-ltlCriti6i.v~and the P ~ n s f o m a t i u nof Cz~lturiclA rcthurity tute for A11vaslced Study in F3rrjnceton, ' f i e authcrr of two t90oks of social and cxitural criticisxn (1988 and rgg3), Watzer is also the editor of Dissent and a mail of tlre left, At the 1989 symposium be offered a kind of inyuil-kg manifesto that remains resotlant in these uncertain txmes: 'rhe anti-ix-rtcltccttlaIistn c~fpop~~iist pc~iiticsis a hnctior-r, in part at least, of the standard associaticm of lrigh culture and upperis directed class status, In normal times, anti-i~stellecc~ialism against auant-gartlec, against hohernias, against radical intellect-uals. In revolutionary times, it is directed against the ofd and cstablisfred forms of high culture, It is always a dangerous passion and one to t9c resistcl-d, hut it:uroilt finally he c~vercomcuntil WC succeed in t~rcakingthe associatiot~between high culture and high status, so that knowledge and cutr-rtreand their iisstitutions are socially autonomous, so that institutions like [tlre LMetropofitan hfuseuxn of k t ] are free from people like us [the elite] and are controlled and paid for instead by the people gencl-ally. But will tire people generally suhsidi~x:greatness as we thit~kwe have done3 WilI high culture retnaitl high in an eplitaria~sera?'" &fast cultural institutions of the kind ellvisioned by nT2lzerare not yet socially autor-romous; but perflaps culmral authoriy in our own time (broadly conceived from the perspecti~reof a writer who is sixtytwo) has trecomc far more poputistic than it was in rgoz;,or rg5o. Perb u c r l i t u r a i autiroriv lras shifted from being the domain of well-educated intelleet-rtafswho maillly scripted tlreir own assessments to specialists in various spheres wlro are a wlrole lot closer to "the people" "anjames C;ibGons I Iuneker was in I 890 or George Jean Nathan was in 19-35,tf we ask ourselves who is recogx~izedas a culturaf authority in tlre fater tcventicth ccmr3;; we come up wirb a roster that I tirink would s b c k I funeker and his generation or Natharl and his pal H. L. LMencken, We might list Irrna Rombaxrer (rK~7-1gh2),the author of 7'heycy of' Coakhtg: A Cu~fqihtio~z of Relifibk Re6-ipes, wifh n Cfi~aalalzli~zrnyChat; first pu"uished in 1936 but a book that cx-rdured in Izumerous edidaxls for two hit generations, A~ldthen, perhaps, Julia Child, whose star status began in rgdr with Mgs~erirtgbe Ark ~fPrer"lcbC;h~kjib~g alld led to her own widely watched television program. O r A n y Vandel-biltk
Cornphli. Book of Etiqrretn, first published in 1952, but even r n o e enduring and pewasive than 7 b e Joy of Cooki't~~~ O r Aiex Comfort, author of B e Joy nf' Sex: A Goarmet fjrlide to L o v e ~ ~ a(1973), ti~ another be%-selfer profusely illustrated with instructiional dl.wi17gs. O r certain disk jockeys. O r "ITpersonatiryjoh.tzi-ryCarson, ""Such was h i s cuft-ural authoriv," according to critic Frank Rich, ""tat his belated inclusion of M i t e &use scandais in his 'Tonight' shtw monotope was the ccreain sign that Ricl-rardNjxon was through," Or Aitan Btoum for several years following pubtication of his best-seller, The d"Io.ci~zg$t the Ametpicani V i ~ d(1987). O r those who dispense i~stirnateadvice to the nuilions, like Ann Landers, f>r= Rut11 Westheirner, and Laura SchZessinge~Or tile widely watched CBS newsmapzine Six? 1MtlliFes3 -for thtwe .c\-hoicicnti+ expos6 with cultural atithoriy, Or Rtfartila Swwart, professional household adviscr and pastemaker to p a m n u Americatls. O r O p a h WTinft-ey when she began recoxnmending particular books to her readers in rt)gA, an iinpact so strong that her word can sell a miOion copies.'" '1"hat is plot a comprehensibre schernatizatior-ral.:tile diverse array of contemporav cxitural authorities, RtIal-ryothers might have been mentioned, rantring from L'olsmnter Krp~rt.sto those who decree .c\;hat is in and our for women8 wear, tro those wlro choose the subjects for btczckbuster ehibitions in museums or award major prizes for books and arciritectural achievexnent, My fui-rdarnentalpoints are, first, that cultural authoriv has vastly t~roadenedthe scope of its covel-age-as is o ~ d y~TC) be expected in mass culture, Second, that whex-rever there is a gap between attendancc ratings (such as film or television) and what the critics think, the ratings matter more and tlrey prevail, Third, as a consequence, networks, sponsors, and promoters pay much less attention to cufhzral critics than they once did. Finally, also a cor-rseyuence,lira one person or side i s any langer seen as at~solutetgauthoritative, Television and radio pn~ducersdo not as a mie pn~duccor present a single omr~isciientautbori~i;Because the pubtic now assumes that there are at least "two sides to eveytlri~~g," cliscussictn programs are set up in a dialogical manner. There is no longer an authorieati'~repaGtiaxl; only divergent paints a f view. A x 947 survey of 3,527 hnericans asked wllecizer some agency-""either the Federal government or the radio industay itself---sht~utd see to it that. . . radio stations repiarly carry programs &ving both sides of pubtic issues?""e respcinse was overwhelmingty aff-irmative, with
Czfltrcr-ltlCriti6i.v~and the P ~ n s f o m a t i u nof Cz~lturiclA rcthurity 58% assigning this resporirsibility.to the radio indust9 and 2 3 % to the federal governmei-rt. ("lhe remaining r8'% responded with either ''no1)odyP7or "d~it'tk l l ~ w . ~ ' ) ~ ~ ~ Last, 2nd important above 211, cultural authoriv has lcrst considerabte ground to the individuals and compai~iesthat possess cultrural power. h I Ierbert l. tichilfer wrote ixz x 989, "dire industries that serve as the sites fbr the creation, pachging, transmission, and placement of cultural messages-corpcwat" c.)~-res espcciaity-have grown steadily as their imporrmcc and centrality ro the ctrrporate economy increases,""' 1hat is one of the truly momentc)us shifts in h e s c a n ctrlmre that has acclrrred aver the past three decades, '2"he srzcralizatiox~of cuft-ure during the later iirlneteenth cexlmmy Inay have been accompai~ied11yan excess of cvtmral autl~oriiq-ar-r undemocratic and therekre xirot a desirable sirnation. But the ~narkecfdecline of cultural authority during the later twentietlr centuy, a combined collsequellce of corporate power and cultural democracy, may nest be so clltirely desirable either. 'With few pidefines, and with every taste considered equal ta every ather, arir excess af mediocrity is encouraged to Bourisfr, When the mass mcctilii seek to s at is^ everyone sirnultarireously, excellence for anytJne or arirything in particular is less likely to appear, Aexis de Tocquevillc did fear that a truly democradc culmre could readily be affiicted by mediocrity. That relnains one of his most astute insights. P .
The Gradua finrrgcncc '1Wass Cu ture and i t s Critics
Drrriq rhe winter of rgyj large slumbers of Americans watched Senate committee bearings concerning the tergate break-in and the passlbfe comptidq of highlj~placed 6gures ix-r American politics, h maIzy people, and perhap-ven more, fo2lawed the televised fi1za.l sages of the House Judiciaay Committee prcrceedings in mid-r 9% when it cor-rsidered the impeachment af President Richard M.N~XOII, Should we view those events as a mass culture phenomenon? "I'he leading participants, investigators as well as the accused, were not theinselves proletarian or int.xsible "snnernbers" of mass societjr. Nor were the commelltators and a~zalysts."X'he stakes, of course, could not have been highet;' FIerlce thc great drama in those proceedings, f3ocs the medium of communication alone define ðer an event quaiifics as mass culture? 7'he slreer size of a viewing audtenceXCr does the substancl: of an event-in this case legal and political cr,mplexities-slm eqwalfj~in determining i ~ o wwe define it? 1s it even posible to prioritize such tiariabfes as medium of commurincatiozz, size of the audience, and actual content, that is, issuesY'T"heseare just a few of the di%crulwhat we meall by mass culture, ties that we face in trfring to asccrt;itX~-r ITere again, just as I have esnphasized throughrrur, a historical perspective that is sensitive to change over time is essential if we lrape to comprehend the gradual emergeIzce of mass culture, pl-rase by phase, during the course of the past c e n t u v For purpoxwof diacirronic coxn-
The GP-t~ilual Er~~ergence of~%IIassC t ~ l t ~N~F-ZeIts ~ Critics parison, consider the qrlar-rtllm jump krom the jukebox (ensconced in restaurar-rts and bars during the 1930s) to &3'I'T{ from natiox-ral distril~urirtnof a printed product m the globalization of images by satellite in the 1970s, from comic books to contemporary carmolls on cable rzemarks, from the Book-af-the-hfo~zthCfub to kfEdrxzerBookcs, from Kxaz37 b t to Ninja 'l'urtles, from the avant-garde ta pogmod~r~zism, from izfil-fitnriclnF"1t"useto E1?t@tci'a'n~1e77~ %night, from the vernacular ctf Fred Aflerz to the antic mlgariry of Howard Stern and Jerry Springer, Some writers have viewed the older parts of these pairs as comprjllents of mass culture, 7'hey can do s s if they clroose, but shr>uld rzat 11egIect the distances that come to mind in terms af audience size, cost, xnarkethg strategies, and t~ehavioraleffects (sucir as krojreurism, vhience, ar-rd celehriy obsessions), My point is simply that popular cxlturc in the years 193-50 (or emerging mass culture if one prefers) is quite digerent from mass culture as we have how11 it in the later decades of the men.EietEt centLtry. "E'hose who casuaitly refer ta mass cuftrure in the coxztext of the earlier mezztieti~cermry need to consider boolrj like Jaxnes B. 'E'witchell's C'&"r~ziv@k C'r~krlre:The Et~sL?z'ngof 72~2e Artreriicn (r 992) or Dougias KushkoPs iWt.tiig I4rud Hidden Age~zcflzsair Popnlur &&re (I 994), books about our own time with their elnphasis upon the ubiquitous presence of electronic media, truly vast audiences, and massive marketing campaigns for cor-rsumernovelties that are both dispensable arzd ephemeral, Otrhemise the history of coxnmercial culture in mentiethc c t - r a i ~h e r i c a becomes a cot-rtinut~~~s ldrrr rather than a series of c~verlappingstilgcs marked l y major inntwtions and altered moo& of cs~n~ci~usnes~. Consider, for example, the distallce between the successful perfsrmaIzces of Cbarlic Chaplin in silent film early in tile twentieth cerztumy arzd the posthuxnaus coxnmodificaGon of C h a p f i n ~ e r m i - r ain the rg8os, particrtlariy in the highly effect& adwrtising carnpaign for 113,2/1 micro computers, It$ the ciismnce between at1 autlience segmented by class and ethnicity in 1915 and an audience treated as though it is t.xrtuaitly mai-ralitlzic in 1985. It's the distance bemeen entertaiment for petty cash and the sale of a L-rigL-rlyhnctionaf arzd costly prr#fuct. ' f i e living Cl-raplin sold hearty &uekles, 'l'hc Cl-raplin image sold access to cyberspacc, T h e distance in time and in ~vtmral orientation is astounding,' 1his chapter cxpls>ressome very basic issues ab.r>utwhich there is scant apeement-in &ct, about whielr there has been and remains P .
considerat9fe contestados-r."What is rnass ctx.fturc"ren and haw cfid it d e v e l o p M ~ ydo these quesdos-rs cxercisc, ever1 agi~atc,cr;litural critics to the exteslt that they do, particularly with reference to tlre degree of passiviq or a g e n q enjoyed by ordinary individuals in response to the attractiox~sand djrxiamics of mass cult-ure?l"ke topic, with all of its ma~~ifestations, has been intensely disputed. It hetps to keep in mind that who uses what phrasing depends a great &"lup011 attihr.de, Critics w11o do not iike mass culture calf it just drat, and rbeir pejomtive ctrnnotation comes h o u g h clearly, Other writers, wlro look at the very same phenomenon without disapprovat, howevem; are likely to refer to it cor-rsistentlyas popular cuft-ure, tbel-ellqr avoiding (they beliexre) any hint of disapprobation-or at teast af being judpcntat. 'They have every right to do so, I suppose; but the egect: has been to make the iiteraturc 011 mass cr;liturc even more confusing than it would otherwise be, Artcl to complicate llnatters from a historical perspective, when the Great Ifebate over mass ctrlmre occurred during the x y ~ o spolemidsts , on 110th sides basica t ly used the same labels, but with differing inferences and implications. 'l-he ernergcnce of pop"lists who find a g c n q and e$itztrian hcr-rerits in mass culture has largeiy bec1-r a pittrccrn in the past two decades, Consequently, that is where the termilsological confusion call be most l'erplexing. ' It is instl~cti~re to 11otice at the outset what an extraarctinay array af views we have on the questiox~of wlien mass culture began. If we start with the Iisneyk Three Little Pigs ser-rsatianin 1933 , but with a major difference, 'l'he Crocketl: pI-rename~-ror-r t~ecamethe centerpiece of ail immense marketing campaign fbr a lmgc amount of merchandise. That had not been the case two decades earlier, and the Depression prcwides only part of the explanation. S t i o n w i d e ~nerclrantlisingschemes and cheir imple~ ~ ~ . menration bad just begun to hit lriglr gear by I
In chapter 4 I discussed Americar-r popular ~ v t t u r ein its prime, 1885-1935. Partiafly minciding in time and partially overlapping it, developments occtrrred tlrat lnarked an imporrmt pl-rase in tlre ewer-
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The GP-t~ilual Er~~ergence of~%IIassC t ~ l t ~N~F-ZeIts ~ Critics ge~zceof Inass culture, yet differed from mass cr;lhre as wc trace it historici31lg a h r midccnmf~and especially from mass arimre as we hi~ve known it in recent decades. Iior purposes of convenience, I have clrasen to call these telescclped phases fri-rtmthe 1880s until tlre later 1940s "commerciaf cuft-ure" and ""proto-xnass cuft-ure." "'f'he former, especiafly; requires sorne explanatiar-r, X L-rave borrowed the phrase "caxnmcrciat culture" from the historia~~ Wi1Xiarn R. Tgytor, who uses it tcr ifescrjt9c an intermediate stage in cultural prrrduction, the antecedent of mass culture, most notable between 1880 and 1930.?kytor regards that as an era in which there was a considerabfe degree of wllaborati011, or at feast mutual understandix~g,tremeen producers and cansurners. t le coins the phrase "cuft-ure of pastiche" to desig~zatecuft-ural ctptitrns, varir~ustypes of popular ~ v t t u r ethat appeded tcr the dimrsitied audiences that still prolifefated during that era.'" I would add to that tlre need far us tcr differentiate between cornmercialization and cornmodification, %%!%ereasthe former has a long history and canrzot sinpfarly hefp us to differer-rtlatebemeen popular and mass cutcure, the tatter is much xnore a past-N70rld N7ar 1 phenomenon and cfoes l-rcip us t-cl make sorne key distinctions, Minstrel shc~wsprovide a represenative examplc of commerciaiized ~vtture, * I he elltrepreneurs tried to make them attracdve, and they certainly sought a profit. But they did not make potentiat members of the audience believe that the show was something essential that they h& to ercial society ane paid Eor something purchase a r attend. In a co that one wanted, wl-rkh is not the same as tlteing led tcr believe that a major need wcl-rtd go unhlfilled ctr that a person would be socially retrograde wiclrout possessilsg a certain product or mode of entertainment. major innovations stimulating the desires that we associate with comxnodificatiar-r are mass drcutadon maga2Llnes, sorne of which first: achieved prominer-rce at the t-urn of the cer-rtury (suppfarzting trading cards as an advertising medium), ar~dthen mass media such as radio, w1-ricl-r came into its own at the end c~fthe rgzos, altkc~ughintrensive a&rtising oil the radii) did not get trrlderway until the rgjas," In my view9commercial and proto-mass culture do nest lnean culture inter-rded excfusively or even pri~narilyfor the masses. IZatizer, they mean cuft-ure enterprishgly produced ancl disserrrjlnated for diverse markets with the highly potent askstar-rce of media capabte of a very brrra$ reach. But persons of ali dasses and taste levels may pick and chirose which aspects and objects of commercial ct~lrurethey wislr to have or attend. Intense pressure to consume had not yet become a t-
major consideratiot~;tilting the needs of [me$ househofd and its mcmt~crswas, 'Fhus the ix-ritial emergence of ~lationatcorpc~ratiot~s at the end of tlre nineteen& centut-y meallt the explszratory marketing of goods son at1 unprecedented scale, Mornrgc)merq.Ward had its genesis in E 872, and Sears in 1897, developing a distribudox~system that did not l~ecorneefficient and unprecedented in size until E y I r , 'l"ke 13jgglg-Wiggly stores, w11icl-r intrc~tfuccdthe concept c~fs e l f - s e ~ c c , began in Memphis in rgrd and took ofTa decade iatea; ultirnatelv linking 2,660 stores. Each of these sjfsterns,however, lrad its own regional (rather than truly national) empl-rasis. :Moreover, they represented commerciafized culture rather than cornmodified culture because they offered fower prices for goods that were rireeded but not readilj*available in more remote localities. Of c o ~ ~ r the s e Sears catalope undeniably stirnttlated desires, Rut the prirnary reason for its slfccess had Inme to do with filling needs than with tlre artificial erearion oP wants. ' It should be kept in mind that fierce critiques of mass culture did not occur until the mid- and bter ~g5os,when the Great Xlebate taalc place. It seems reasonable to assume, tilerefore, that mass culture sank roots earlier in the me~lticthc e n t u v but only blossomed ix-rto full flower directly following Wc~rldnTar 11. k%Teshr>uld note tlrat when ai~prehensionswere expressed during the second quarter of the mentieth cencuy3 they took forms that I call sodopolit-licaif: What will the coxxsequexxcesbe far political manipufati~nby dernagogue~%~illthere t9e a star~dardimtimc~ficteolc.)$cat apinion"Vi1X the znectia affect the presitlcntial carnpaign of 1952 (the first to be hltg cc~vered'by telcvisioll)? Only tlrereafter did tlre critics' apprehensiolls become car snore socloc-ultural:CWIl there be a degradation of taste, a decline of literacy, the fetishizatioiir of e v e r ~ h i n gby IneaIls of intensi6ed adverdsing, a cult of personafiv and celebrity?
'
One could date tlre germination of protsl-mass ct~lrureto 1895, when Joseplflulitzer's mv-Ld, a low-cost Xew York daily, pri~ilstedthe first comic cartoon, tile adventures of a street urchin of lndeterrninate eth~zicitycalled the "Yellow Kid," "'f'he series, primitikre by ssta~zdardsthat prevailed wenty-five years later, proved to be so popular wit11 the pubtic that in 1896 Wltiam Randotph H e a r s stole and hired the artist, ;rzg Richard Outcaulr, to run his cartoons in the AVmtErk il.ior;tl-rzl'JOIA"I"IZ~ZI~
The GP-t~ilual Er~~ergence of~%IIassC t ~ l t ~N~F-ZeIts ~ Critics Outcault failed to copyright his character, so imitations swikiy sprang up in other urban papers across the concrtv, invariabty foliwing a pattern: the advenrnres (and misatlvetltures) of city youngsters from the lczwer social strata. In 1897 Ilearst commissioned another artist to describe the shenanigans of mischievous cirildrer-r called the " b t z e ~ z jarnmer Kids." By 1193,wtte~t'"ringing Up Father" begat to appear, many other cartoon strips "nd started to pro1jfe~ate.'~ 'I'he appeal of these comics earty in the mentieth wnt-ury is ct~ttrtrally significantl b u t thus far tnorlring distinpisbes tt.le1-n from popular cutmre, Two seqrletlriai developments that el-nerged gradually between x yoz and 19-30place this narrative in the realm of proto-mass cuft-ure: syndication arid licer-rsed merclhandising. National syndicatiar-r of comic strips in nevvvapers originated in 1902, when Hear-st started selling the right to rcpn3ducc his strip"n other x-rewspapers He thereby opened u p a national marker, Every popular comic strip thereafter ciljoyeb this .kind of regular replication, which meant that all across the countryI every morning, youngsters and adults battled for first p a s e s i o n of the ""funry papers." Caxnicrs Lretped to sefl ~tewspdpcrs, and by I ~ I Oat least nine consolidated nevvspaper chains existed, the largest orle owned by ISdward W Scripps. Artists learned to straddle the url-tadl-ural diversity of the Unitt.d States at that time. Ethnic humor had limited appeal, EIellce the "Katzenjammer Kids" eventually shif-ied to a se~ni-ruralsetting in order to strike a balance and maximize dle earl-oonS appeal.'' 'I'he swift sspilIr>vcr that enthusiasm into an electronic medium r e w i n d almost three decndes I9ct;ll-e aclrievjng a high tevei of ttlcirnical qualirqi: Initially, animated cartoons were nest for evevone, which is wlry I cczllsider the developl-nenral stage an aspect of proro-mass culture; but the process of znaturation is intriping, Winsor 1kIcCa~7~ the in ,$/zkmbe~-hndin I y I r ,and then earliest arinmatoa; created Littk AWm~/o Gwtie be 7Fcai~tedI>i??o$lzur three years tater, Gertie had charm and personaliy aplenty; a pragcnitor of B a r n 9 'I'he dc~relopmentof anirnation began to hit its stride in 19x5-16, wlren :tifutr and Jeff films, snappy anci cnrertainjng, achieved poputariy. By the late teens most a~zirnatedcartoolts were adaptations of successful c o ~ strips: c ""Binging Up Fa ther," """"t'lze Katze~zjamznerKids," a~zd"Krazy b t . " "kelix e , his first appearance in the Cat,'' always ~lllmitteltby a ~ ~ o u smade r g2 I. Created by Otto &3cssmcr,Felix had a very distlix-rcdvepersonaliry; which made biin the greatest cartoon star of the silent era, Some-
times catlcd the Chritie C:kaplin of cartoon characters, Felix appearecf as a lot-rer in an indiEerent worid, combining rest~zrcehtr~ess with a touch of viciousness in order to sumiveS1' Until 1928, all ar~irnatedcarmons bad been derived from New York-produced comic strips. But then came an unkl~ownnamed \Valt IJisney frarn California with Stea~~rbont WiIIie, a landmark because it syr-rchrol-rizedsound with the pictures, Xcxt came M i c k q Mouse and an arnazing burst of creati-crirq.fc3r llisney that enifured without a break for more than a decade. 7'he llotion that make-believe cartoon characters could talk, sing, play instruments, and move to a lnusical beat d Seve~?L)w&$i was a seemed absolutely xnagical, Srznsll m k e x ~ the tandmaric in E yq7 because rzo arze irnal;Srncd that a feamre-fex-rgt arinmated film might be possible. 'l'he scrr-rgs from &at mcrvie became memorable hits, and the characters enjoyed irnlncr-rse merchanctising wccess, which brings us to the second major sign of comics as protomass ct~lfitre."(" t>utcault"s%~usterBrown" comic strip acl-rieved such great appeal after 1902 that selling tile right to reproduce Bt~sterBrown"smal;~ea n a wide amay of products, from shoes to watches to toys arid games, became far more lucrative than the income from the s ~ ~ d i c a t comic ed itself. That gradually turned into a normarive pattern for cartclon fiavorites, and sarting in the rgjos, with :Mickey :Mouse, Dctnald Duck, arzd Snow "Whte,it would reap great dividends for Walt f)isney enterprises. By 1934 Ilisney l ~ a dGhee11 peapfe emplayed in llis New York: aftice to oversee the licensing of procfucts that were either reprcduetior-rs af his characters or else carried their tjkeness in ot-rc fclrxn or ancItl~er+~~~ In the meantime, newspaper sjf~~dication of such nadonally poloular coturnnists as Joseph &sap also became coxnmonplace during the x y yx--a sig~~illcaxirt harbinger of mass cutmre, By E 9 2 5 N7alterLippmann paid close atter-rtior-rto the Associated Press agering news electronially and thereljy ha.ving what he perceived as a pcrnicic~useficct on the responsibilities of locd jour~~atists. L3repackaged stories carried by M' lrelped to a u p e n t the shaping of a naecionat culture and made the local press lazy, he befieved, about intensely cotlecting, purming, arzd analytyzing news for ti~emsel\res.Dirring the E y zos a paper like the EPYI~U G ~a z~eM~ eaccepted the need for a marked increase in national advertising, which meant some displacement of tocal ads, 'l'he merc~f5,000, f o ~ . n d chants of Emporia, Kansas, a town with a pc)~3~laticm
The GP-t~ilual Er~~ergence of~%IIassC t ~ l t ~N~F-ZeIts ~ Critics themselves competing for consumers whose rarrge of choice had been witlcned by the ownership ctf antcrmobiies and tllc advent of parcel post, By tlre end of rbe rgzos, tlre Gazette no longer seemed to fc~cus primarily on "xevealing Emporia to Emljorians." Snrall-tom life had b e p i r to be somewhat inarginal even ixz a smalf-town Izewspver. Celebrity photographs, ~zatioxzalnews, and coxnics were irecessary in order to sell papers." In 1925 Waiter m5nchetl ix-rtrodueccf what became a r e v t ~ l u t i o t ~ a ~ kilsd of column in journalism, tlre celebriy g-ossip coturn11 that focused on pec~~ple in public life, rangitlg from movie stars m politicians to mernbers of high sadel-y; 'f'lze swift emergence of derivative wnchell imitators helped give prominer-rce to a culture of cefebriy, or fiascislation with celcbriry, that 11% g r w n efisively and obsessively ever since. T h e pubtics hunger for that sort of news became very evident I9y the early and mid-~gjos,LVinclrell thereby played an important role in shaping ],mm-mass culture.22Meanwhile, at a different level of taste, less prurient Gut blasrdly au couraxzt, Ib)eNTittWi~flacehad fashiox-red l ~ y the nud-lg3os the first genuinely mass market inagazine in the United Sates, the Regderk Diges.1. It developed the largest subsa-iption sales of any magazirse prior to Tty Gui~teand became a household name, visible in vast numbers of American homes. 'I'he swift success of Lfe magazine in 1937-38 prc~videsa p2rallel e x a ~ n ~ l e , ~ " A. cluster af significant detrelapments, all made passible l ~ yswiftly ci-rangingtech~zofogies,accelerated tile prominence af proto-mass culture during the r g 30s. ' f i e starrdardizatic111 of nationaltg recog~~ized food products was import-ant. It meant that ethnic and re&ox-ral variations in hnerican food began to wane somewlrat, with the consequence that the nadon5 diet becarne more simplified and somewlrat: b l a n d e ~For those who wished to eat out, a r did so from necessir).; ~zatioxzalfyrecag~~ized chains af eating places offered the assuraxzce that ccrtilivl dishes would always taste a prectictaI9ie way arrd I9e affordable in straitenecf times. "fhe standarcti;r;atiion of prodrxcts and services contl-zbuted mightily tc-, the success cof \%%ite Castle fcmd shops in cities and IToward jslmson"r;estauraslts on the road. For the same reasons, franchising became tile key to success for ~zatio~zal motel cirains by the xy6os. '2"he combinadar-r af local ownership and ~zationalsimilarity rcprcsc.ntecf seeurity and rcliabitiy tub l a r p rlitrrrbcrs of travcIerse2^" By the tater 1920s~when sound was a d e d to film ar~dradio I9roa.dcasts more frequellrly mrsled into nadonal attractions, tlre phrase
"mass-mediated popular f u I ture"' I~eganto be aypropriate."' Film p l v d an important role in the emergence of proto-mass culture for two reasons, 'l'he obvious one is t b r during the w e n ~ e much s larger "palaces" were built that ciruld accommodate bigger atitliences eager to see and discuss ~not~ies that "everyoi-rc" seemed to lt)e trafking about, But film also narked a cor-rceptual break with the pz"tt)ecaux more than one copy of a work of art was being made, Snobbish critics arcre initially reluctant to categorize movies as "art" ppreclscly because a movie was nest unique-thorrsallds of copies of any given movie could be distributed." By the I g30st some a-itics could still affct)rcito indulge and the press could not. Besides, such an affecution, but h z ~nag~zines a general cor-rsex-rsusdeveloped rfurirzg the thirties that IJisney cartooils and features were, in fact, a trrar-rd-new art forin, not derived from prceuisting comic strips; Disney films required the skills of real artists and astc,unding hre&thoughs in the appticarion of techtlolop to art, so that i l s d u s t ~words like "cels" "suddenly entered the common texi~on.~" From scratchy cjrlinder recordings at the mrIz of the cenhzv ta the introduction of wax reeorCti1-.5gsin 1919-20, yet another momentclus shift got under wap. T h e tatter had importilrrt inlplicatior-rsfor one of the most sigl-lificatlr aspects of h e s i c a n popular cnlmre because the availabiliv of records would gradttally dirninish the sale of sheer music. "E'hereinlies a strihng illustratiar-r of the transitioxz from partidpatov papufar culture to the more passive ma~~ifestatioxzs of mass cufmre, M%ereas sheet music =quires someone arho knows haw to piay the piano, with others gatherecf arour~din an ix-rteractive sealing to sir-rg, anyc~necould play the phonogra$ and one or Inore persons could , the otl-rer hand, the simply sir and qtrietly listen, By tire early ~ g j o son emergence of radio begair to protride a fresh stimulus for the sale of both sheet music x~zdrecords, l ience that decade really is ~zoteworthy as a transitiorlal or-reI~etweenpopular and mass c ~ l r n r e . ~ ~ Rccord salcs increased noably in the United States after 1932, and received a tremendous boost in I gqX wlren the 3 3% tczng-playing disc made its debut, one of several advances in technotoar that help tc) mark the transidozz frarn proto- to mass culture, At midcerzmmy the ""mobiie disk jockey" "had become a fidmiliar f i p r e at local socitlf filxzctior-rs, such as teenage record hops. Shall we caseprize such ever-rtsas * 'IKe photocopier was inventcd in 1938 by Chester Carison. It would becorl~can important benchmark in the transition1to mass-producecl irnages.
The GP-t~ilual Er~~ergence of~%IIassC t ~ l t ~N~F-ZeIts ~ Critics mass or pcrpufar culture" am inclinecl to ackrsowtecfgc their interxncdiate status. Yet another illustration from the same time kamc at midcentttry al31'e"~"n the organizational innovations of Norman Vjncent 13eale, who adapted mass mailing techniques in order to distritlute his messages of seitdhelp and spirit-ualfrealing as efficientty as possible to a very broad nmurlr; of 'l%e commercial development of radio during tile intewar yeam began as prota-mass cnlturc in its early phase, before NRC: and CBS emerged as nationail nemorks in 1926 and 1928, By 193I, GBS bad eiglrq affiliates; and a survey made in 1935 shcwed that 88 percent of hnerican listeners preferred networic to local programming. By the early 1930s 147~0s'B' Ajlzdy had capmred the Ganqr of the nation and heti?ed, in the words af one schatar, to turn a '"popufar mecliurn into a mass mccfiurn," Still, the process remaix~ccfa gradual one. Dcspitc the notabte cEecdveness of Fra~lklinD. Roosevelt5 1%-esiderld and audience for pocket-sized tjooks ljecause the &litay co sias-rcd more than thirtjr-five milflax~copies of fa~niliartitles to be distributed csverscar;to members of the armed Forccs. Earay eiltreprencurs in the paperback incfustr~jquickly learned that flashy or seductive covers helped to make books self-promoting. :VIoreover, Penguin and Fawcett devised a11 egectivc: soludon to the problem of bow best to display paperback books. '["hey developed the four-sided ""Sin-it" "rack that codd be filled with m array of tides from assorted ge~~res.5i In atfdition to literary classics and steamy fietios~that many critics at the time considered punlographic trash, norlficticm best-sclters arere carefully commissir)ned to suit a swiftly expanding audience tlrat sought eveything from spil-itual guidance to baby care. By ~nidcenttfry Berjamin SpockWocket Book ofq13rrlbx~zdChitd &re (first published in June 1946) became the secos-rd-best-sefIing book in American publistring history trailing only the Bible. Wthin less than eight p a r s a phenomend growth partcm occun-et(, In 1946, around sixty mitlion paperbacks were distributed; by 7953>t l x number more than tripled, and many new puklishers entered the field. Eqrralb striking was the expanded range af titles: ~zotjust ~njrsteries,mayhe~n,sex, and sclc~lce 6etio11, but The ILigd and Edmund NTilsos-r"s ibe Fi~itldt~l.rnd Station, 'l%is aspect of mass arit~lresoon became even more ine1~1sive.The process ctf prodrrction and distrjt~utionmay have been "I~RSS," but the ogerings were diversiged.'" E3emTittmTallaceand tlre ReallerS. Digest>meanwlrile, a rernarkaljle 6nax1clal slrccess during the x 930s and x y4os, tooked far new worlds to coxxquer and took the next lagicat step develaping a b'cos-rdensed" (abridged) book pmgram in r gg 1-5 z.T h e books sciccwcf tended to ire if we follow Rusmiddlebrw in ctrrltent, perhaps lower-midrtlet~ro~~ sell LpesB 1949 schematizatio~~-titles like The d'(ziii?e i1/111ti~zy,or Gin~zt,or The LLZS~ Elz~mtzh,or works by J o b I? Nfarquand, Alec bVaugh, and ;Mackntaj? hxirtor, But the extensive ~narketingscheme developed by bVallace5 staff and tire actual sales realized markcd the prrrjcct as higi~lyreprescrltativc of the ernergent mass cvlltture at midccnatrfr, Mter just one year there wcre g r z,ooosutlscribcrs, far more than tlre B~)ok-of-t-the-~Montlr CLub and &e Literay Guild, created late
in the 1920s. M e n TVGuide emerged in rgg3 as an instananeous succcss (initid sales of 2.2 mi)lion ctrpies), Ke/d&r4 I)ige.fr bonght competitive display space at the checkout counters of srrpermarkets. Sales promptljr tripled, quadrupled, and tlren same, TV Guide and Kelzde~-"s I>@e.~ll. remained stai~lesin h e r i c a n mass culture h r decades to c o m e , ' ~ p o ~ .IIItt~~iated r first appeared in r 954 and everltually became a nationwide succcsa Let's notjce a sjrnpie yet symptomatic siglr of trmsiticm, In 1958, when Johil Kenmeth Gali~raitlrpublished The Aflgenr ,S"ocieg3 it contained no references to nlevision, radio, or advertising. Nine years Sir-ate, that book contained later, when he pubtished The AWeajI~zdzis~ial quite a few references to all three, 'l"he difference caiirnot be explained by the respective sribjcct areas of the e o works, It can best be rrnderstood in terms of the swift, &E-scatc emergence and impact of mass culture between 1958 and 1967, tlre very same decade in which castfood clraiiss and large shopping malls selling sandardized brands also emerged. 'l"ke h e r i c a n supermarket undewent a dramatic phase of expalllargc chains like A&P and Safeway slon lremcen 1948 and 1963 wl-re~~ added many r-rew locations, By r 956 the independent ccrrner grocery store had not disappemed entirely, hut it had hecorne a charmkg relic fri-rtman earlier era, Llilorn-and-popstores found it very hard to cornpete with the vast array of processed foods availabfe at the supermarkets. ~Veanwhiie,in the later 1930s Ray k o c began his aggressikre franchisiw of the McDonaldB "speedee'~system.Bp comparis~mrith M i t e Chtle hanlhurger csmblishents, whj& had sg'read sioa-lyduring the 1920s and 30s on a scale charaeterisde of protcl-mass ct~ft-ure, LlilcDonald5gprovided a vast and very swift stimulus for the appeal of Gast-food eateries during the x 960s and 90s. The standardizadozl of both food options and ser\$icesbecame yet a~zotherfamiiiar characteristic of mass cultclre as we ic-nowj t,j4 As shopping centers dcvelopccf during the rggos and then were supplanted by the proliferadon of malls m-odecades later-the rate of change v q i n g from targe urban areas to suburball, exurben, and more rernote locatior-rs-the prepozlderance of chain stares and major franchises over locally owned ialdepe~ldentstores brought shoppers tile latest national trends in mcrchar-rdising tcchniqrres and products, A national standarcfimtiollr of taste and desirilbilit)i ocwrred: large numbers of people learl-lingabout and waz~titlgthe same things at the same
The GP-t~ilual Er~~ergence of~%IIassC t ~ l t ~N~F-ZeIts ~ Critics time. Pepsi-C:ola, for examplet did not t~egix~ to advertise heavily 01-r television until 1963-64, Blue jcax-rs did not t~ecomethe ur-riversal dress code for yousng peopfe until the very end of the rpgas-and eve11 then fraught with controversy, when worn to school, well into the rghos." Beyond tile elitist critiques of mass culture by a number of intellecmats+ome from ~zativestock like IJwight ~Macdonaldand others coming from Irnlnunitiescould watch Inore distant major league teams play. Baseball became Inore literally the izatiox~alpastime once gaxnes from other cities were t.xsualfy a.rrallabfe, Professional basketball and football, which did i-roe enjoy an appeal at ail comparable to basefrail in the 1950s, would be transformed by tetcvision drxrix-rg the 1960s f9ut especially the rgyos, with exrrawdinal-y conseqnetlces ranging from atlvertising to players' sahrics to the merchandising of spurrs eyuipnrent m d paraphernalia.'" In 1971 a IIarris poll of 1,600 people asked for reactions to this statement: """refevisiox~ has made such sports as profeab~f~al football and basketl~all[succcsshl] ,which is good." "vevy-seven % agreed, r 3% disagreed, ro% were not sure, Harris also asked whether people would prefer to see baseball, football, and basktball games in person or on television, T h e preferences for televisir>nwere 4496,4.696, and 45 %, respectively, for each sport, Apres that I interpret as a fiairly stroi-rg inctinatiox~toward 'ITVviewing for combined reasolls invol.rring cost, the trend toward privatization, and passivity (or inertia ifyo~zl?refer)."' Such proportions wo111d l-rave been unthinkable four decades earlier, not because tefevisian did not yet exist but because being paticipatory in public spaces was still an essenhl and expected aspect of popular culture, Needless to srzjr, those who watch a sporting event at
hame have no ix-rfluenceon the autcorne of the event, whereas hx-rs in anencjar-rce at a staditrm can give the home team an ac-lvantagc, especially in football but also in basketball, "I'he term ""couch potato" was coined in 1976 by Robert hmstrong, a California cartoonist. Ilttring the next two decades a series of essaj~sa n tire couch-potato phenomenon appeared, ranging from serious pieces cor-rcer~~ed wit11 the optimal marketing str-ate@ to increase tl-tc spending patterns of passive lwme consumers to ~ariricalpieces in praise of the couch potato that provided suc11 advice as: "Work up to l~ig-leagueiitrniture" and "Remove distractions while the "IT is ~111.'~"~ 'l"be Eamiiiar perception, w1rict-r t t~elieveis indisputably accurate, regards televisio~~ as a phenomenon that brougirt hndamental changes to the m y s that Americans live, It meant, fiir example, that entertainmcj-rt f~ccarncnot just totally accessible t9ut fully ix-rtcgratccf into the daily lives of hnericans, 737 was preemi~sentin borne entertainlnellt by 1960 and became tlre prirnar?y.source of rlellis for most ad~tltsby xyyo- Less evident, at least in clear propartions, is the degree of felt ambivalence that h e r i c a ~ ~ s about television by the 1970s. 'l%e remits of a series clf ycllls are quite revealing here, In 1gyr a Harris poll asked r,cioo Alnericans to respond to this statement: '"relievision is good because you get so much ennrtainment and informadon for free." E&hhr).three % agreed, I+% did rlot, and 3% were not sure. "Ewo years Xater Gallup asked 1,567 people for their reactions to this question: ""A time goes an, do you l-rave a more Gavorabfe or Xess 6~vorable attimcfc toward telcvisiorzl" "Il'he responses ran as follows: Llilore Less About same :\;"a opinion
31% 42 23
4h2
In 1977 Gallup asked r,gr 8 Americans this question: "ThinBnlng about how yew spend your non-working time each day, do you think that you spend too much tirne or too link time watelring televisic-,n'"r9" t lere are the replies: Tocl much Tocl little
About right Don't know
3r% 17 48
The Gr-t~ilznglEm rrgence of~%IIassC~lrrrl-ea~zdi t s Critics That apparent affinnation of the status quo appears in a some~rhatdifferent light, however, when we look at the results of a Gallup poll one year later. "Some people think that television has a11effect on how they spend their tisne and others disagree. If you watched less television, do p u think you would . . . React more React less Read the same amount Don't know
49 09964
Finalfy, a knkelovicil pofl of 1.2 54 persons taken two moitlchs Later asked: "What arc the three or four things you like to do the most dming your leisure time?" Cl'he total adds up to more than root' because people could make multiple responses,) Camping Baa.eiag Night school, continuing education, teehires Hrzbbies such as stamp cutlccting k l u n t e e r work Being active in things the kids are doing (e.g., sports teams, Scouts, etc.) Night out at a supper clulddiscorlreque or caf6
Skiir~g Keeping in shape and physical exercise Riding a bike C;oing to the mountains or beach
Listening to xntlsic Reading a magazine Being active in an organization Reading a s~ewspaper I landiwork such as crodleting, knitting, needlework 'l'lsiting relatives and friends 'Ibking a drive in the car Goixsg to partics Shopping FishingjhtzntSng
Swimming Rowling Playing cards C;c,>ingto a sprtreng event ( i , ~ .ball , games) Cioing to tile theaterlsmge sfiows Cioing to tile movies Pf aying tennis Playing golf Reading a book C;c,>ingon outings with the family Ciardcning Eating out in restauraIzts f'ntercaining fi-iends Watching teIevision Relaxjilsg at borne Glrurcb-related activities Other Mthc~ughthere is x-ro astonishing trend apparent here, there is a pattern if 011e n ~ ~ t the e s tap choicc+watching television, relaxing at home, and lisreni~sgto music-because these are eornparadvely passive or nonpublic pursuits rather than being nomhty interactive or participatory; O~zlywhen we turn to the second tier do we find mueh of the latter: camping, being active in things the kids are doing, visiting relatives and friends, and church-ret ated activities.""" By 1978 h e r i c a n s had not become exclusively ixsteractive or pitssive. One would scarcely expect the balance to tip clltirely to one extreme or the otlrer, But the balallce had shifted rather dedsively in the directloll of motee passive and privatized activities. 'lqfnevalidity of that conclusios-rhas been stlarpiy colltested during the past 6Eteer-ryears as-so, and those contra$ietoay views form the sutlject ctf chapter 8. W can co~~ctude here, hawcver, with the perspective of a prominent sociologist published in 1 9 ~ exactly 7 ~ when the polls just cited were being taken, T h e writer is Richard Sennea, and his observadon apg-reared in the context of a lmok concerned with the decline of pubflc culture,
For the spectator, the radio and the tut~edo not permit a~~ciiencc interntptiot~;if yc~ustart reacting while tile poiiticia1-r is on tile air you miss part ot; wlrat he or she says next, %like gat to be
The GP-t~ilual Er~~ergence of~%IIassC t ~ l t ~N~F-ZeIts ~ Critics silent to ire spoken to, "fhc only pc~ssiklemeans ofrespo~~se is to have a "D7 commentator select what shalt tte repeated and discussed. 7'he comment.;ltor tlrell assumes exactly the fu~ttncdonof the critic who interpreted for those silent audiences of the last cenhzv the performances they wa tched live, but the comznentatar has xnore coxnptcte car-rtsol because his is instantaneous. Passivity i s the '"logic?' of cl-risteci-ri~crioi,?.. 'The mass media intcnsitfy the pattercls of crowd silcnce which began t-cl take fbrm in the theaters and concert lralls of the last centuryyintensi$ the idea of a dise~nbodiedspecmtcjq a passive witness."' upon creeping Atthough t do not entirely share Se~zi-rett"sclrnpI~asis passivit~rduring the later ninctcenti-r and earlier- mentiet1-r cenmay, my position is much closet-to his than i t is to those a r p c 011 behalf of untlirninished personal agency durinff the era of tlomination by mass media following the 1g5os.
1Wass C ~ ture A in More Recent
h b o u g h scholars and critics continue to differ about when to place the ge~lesisof mass culhrre and its tl-a~zsformatioxzover time, no one disputeflhat itsjtll emergence occurred more than three decades ago, and perhaps four. The 1969 moo~waikwas witnessed simt~ltar-reousIy 19y more viewers, 580 miilion, than any prc7iious event in history. ' f i e audience for tlre 1974 nTc]rldCup soccer playoff reached 600 milliczn. (.>n Augmt I, T ~ E a12proximatcly , one bilIion people watched as the United States, the Soviet Union, and thirv-three other natior-rssigned the t lelsinld Accords concersGng strcir mulGlateral xnatters as human rights, territorial l~oundaries,scicncc, trade, and enuironmentai issues. We cuuld endlessly enumerate the markers of mass culture, By rggz there were almost jg,ooo operadonal slroploing centers in the United States, I ,835 of them large regional malls, Increasingly, they featured the sarne stores, the sarne consuxnerist ex-rvirox-r~nent,and the sarne p r o d u c ~ .Critics who worried about ""st-andardizati~n'~ back in the r 920s wuuld be astonisheit, even appdled, if they ct~uldtravel in a t i m capsule tu the 1980s and 30s. firhough a consensus exists that we are ncsw awash in mass ct~lrure, however, there is little agreement over its most hndiasnenral cl-raracteristics and especialb their behavioral consequer-rces. I Ies-rcewe have had
sincc the mid-1980s a sccor-rd "Great Debate" over the extec"t3t or degree of pitssjviv ascribat9Ie to mass ct:lxfturc as oppc~secf to cuntentic~nsthat personal initiadve, ilsteractivity; and self-determination have not been crushed by the overwhelming force and manifestations of Inass cuft-ure. "E'o complicate xnatters, moreover, there has been inslrffieient attention given to the palpabie distinctior-rsbemeen mass culture in the two decades following 1960 and then in the m u most recent or-res, T h e diEerenccs t9emccn these seqrrentiaf phases uf mass cutmre lnatter a great deal in negotiatitlg the cotlfiictring positions concerning passiviv m d agellcy, Even those observers w l x ~are wili.ing and abte to view 1880 or 1920 or 1ygo in historical perspecti~retexd tta treat the l-ristary of mass culture since 1960 with blurred t4siox1. Do they acknc~wledgcqnalitative and quanritative changes that have ocatrred sincc then"rrequcr-rtiy they du. Does that recognition carry over into their aairudes and sweeping generalizations about the cssesltial slamre and impact of mass culture? hTotvery often and not very well, 'lbstart wit11 some fairly large categories, there does seem to be broad agreemex-rt that two crucial Eactars (or k-rrial~les)shaping and r e c o n f i ~ ~ r i nmass g nrf mre are tecl~noiog? and fldvertisingl Television has been the single mt~stinlpurant feature of the former and cunsumerism the key cclllsequeslce of the latter. "I'herefc~re,I will devote disproportior~ateattention to them in describing the second debate in this cirapte~Needless to say, these are not discrete phenornel-ra,'l'hey are intirnatefy interconnected in complex ways. 'l'kere is a procliviy to quote Jamcs jt)yce-"he my consumers not also my pn3duccrslP-as a pithy way to say that advertising creates or stimulates its own interactions, "%bofacile perhaps, even as a signifying epigram. One wonders just lrow Inally people are genuinely interactive with James joyee. "E'me, l-re did take from certain "producers," but the eywationi does not fiaw equally in both directions because ever so few of iris producers mtlsequenttg trecame his cor-rsurners, 1he most suitatily representative artrist for the age of mass ctrlmre 1 ~ 2 4 well " be h d y mTarbol. Warbol called the loft wl~erebe and his l-retpers mass-produced their images and o b j e c ~'f'he Factory (rather than "'f'he Smdio")," and he proclaimed: ""rant to be a machine,"?' Because his ideas and his worlc were collaboratively created, \Varl-rot9s mode of aperation gave new meaning to notions of art that is massP .
* Rack in the rt)jos, 1bTattf?isneyi employees catlect his Buri~ankstudio the "fun factory.>'
I5.
AEL&iVgrl?o/( I 975) by Jartles Browning 'TcVyetSr (gotlache and pencil on paper)
produced. %%%atmT2rlrol did and achieved in the 1960s and "as, beyoi-rd sheer notorietlir, jumped well beyoilcl what 'Waiter Benjninin enl~isianedin 1935 when he wrote his subsequexztly earnous essay "Art in the Agc of Mechanicat Reprcrttrrction." In addition, \Varhcti"scapacity t-cl WlliSect ~ ~ " c h n with ~ f c coi~wrmet-im, t~ the banality of the ctrciinary witlr the swell of celebriv, illf'used new Inearning into the maxim of Bruce Barton, the 1920s advertrising man par excellence: ""Reputatiorl is repetitioxt." hrtoxz had in mind masmizing the impact of coxnmerciaf advertising. Nrarhol had in mind the coinmercializatior~of "m"redefined as repctitiorls produets 3rd irnages-the more familiar the better. Banality made millions for the ~ ~ a c hand ~ r yi t s chief elf.' By the later 1g6os, seven out of ten h e r i c a n s believed that advertisillg was illdeed a form of art, Because it has becolne virtually impos-
sihle to avoid or escape it, advertising has emerged as the most common kind of art in our culture, Because ads are so pervasi~re,aggressive, repetitive, and intmxsive, they are much more difficuft to igiirore than they were thirty or sixty or ninety years ago. Advertising has t~ccome one of the defitting artributes ctf mass cdture in out- time, and espcciatly so since the rgf(os, wlretl wmputer imaging made many ads mme hm atld mnre engaging than ever before. k%Tehave a stereovpe of people using the remote control to escape ads on tele\rision. Mre'ell, maIly people do; but a great xnariry others do not, especiafly cf-riidren, wl-ro tend to love ads, along with acfults .c\rkc~ are intripecf by the ingenuity of new ads that are ccmcc~ctedh r special occasions like atl-rletic champiotlsbips, L3eople seek to escape stale ads that have grown wertrisome; flut the ad agencies work very hard to inllcsvate and replace the narcofvtic ads with novel ones." James 'f'ixiitchell has catled to our ateerirtioxl two prewierirt assertions from 19x5 and 1946. 'T"hey are worthy of notice f9ccausc their vafidit~r easily oumcighs their hyl~erbofe. Nrhen the historian of the 'l-ini-entieth Cenlrumy shall have Anished his narrative, and comes searching for the subtitle wf~iciz shalt hest expmss the spirit of tl-rc pcricld, .c\-C think it not at ail unlikely that he rnay select "The Age af Adve~tisi~rg" for tl7e -I2~-i~?tersfInk, May 2 5 ? 1915 purpose. 'lTkeseL-rumt~leradjuiircts to literature [i.e., advertisements] may prove more valuable to the hhrre historian than the editorial. contents [of large ntagazitles). 11% them we rnay trace our sociological lristorlv; the rise and 621 of 6ads and crazes, clranging ilsterests and tastes, in foods, clcztbes, arnusernetlts and vices, a panorama of fit;: as it was lived, more informing than old diaries or cmtnbfing taxnbstones. -Earnest EImo Calkins, And He~~ring J%Tot,1946 T h e ccntrat arprnent af "rwitchcll's itrook, although somewhat overstated in places, is signifieant for ~llrrpurposes because it is scnsitivc: to change over tit-ae and quite properly catls a t t e n ~ o nto the massification of advertising in recent decades. "What distinguishes modern advertising,?' L-re writes, "is that it has jumped frarn the huxnan voice and
printed posters to as-rything that can carry it, Amost every physical abject now carries advertising, almost every human enironment is w h s e d with advertising, almost every moment of rime is calibrated by ac_lvcnisi~~g.~ Z hat observatior-r serves as a L-relpful reminder that we must keep in mind not merely two debates concerning Inass culture (one in the rgsos, as arc 11ave seen, ar-rcf another occun-kg since the later rg80s, a major f o ~ x of s this &apter), but long-term &angc w e r the krf l course of the t-wenrjeth centuy as well as significant alterations in the tnature of mass culture just since the 1960s. T h e recent changes have prompted a desire on tile part of culmral critics to take mass cufhzre quire seriously as an object of analysis, and to criticize it, moreovem; on tess specious and less elitist grouj-rds than its cagis-rg opponents did at midcenturyl T h e gradtai; of contemporary criticism (and appreciation) provides a secondav thelne of this chapter: mTehave come a long way since Mort Sahl's quip about the PInyboj~centerfold.: "'an e n ~ r generae tion of hz~ericanmales is growing up in the belief that their wives will L-rave staples in their navels." 'rhe texmre and thmst of serious criticism 1 1 ~ pr~Vides 1 ~ specific and x-ruax-rced elaboratiot-rs on h i c l Dorf'lnars" 1975 assertiot-r that "beyond the clrildrert.5comic lies the wlrole concept of contemporary mass culture, which is based on the pri~ilscil~le that ollly entertainment can liberate huxnankind from the social a n i c y 2nd conflict in which it is sul~mer~ed.'" Since the rg8os, especiall; we have become awtlre that potent forces in the ex-rter~ainmentindustry along with eclualtg powcrtit1 corpcrations play an extremely inflilential role in determir-tingthe ultiinate presentation and perception of our collective and mytlric past, That became evident at the centennial oftbe S r a t ~ of ~ eLiberty in 1986 when exclusi~recorpor;-ttespo~~sorshlp (one spozlsor per product categomy) became t.xsible in twlgar ways; at the Bay-cer-rtermial of the Can-. stitution in 1987-88; at EPCO'T Cer-rter,as welt as ix-rcreasir-rgnumbers ctf tl~crneparks in which the past is paraded as a colcrrfill pastiche of patl-zotic pap; and in second-rate actirtn films tlrat aiog-rear to treat aspects of the hericart. presidencry, or national holidays, or milit-ary really are cor~Bictsof the past half ci.ntuvh ""tkeat" and ""reat~nent'~ the operative wards here, "E'laenationat narrative has been telescoped, splimd, and push-burtoned to fast fiiward. The nest logical step may very well be history rewound, a ctJurtev to the wbsequelzt viewer, of course, before returning the cassette to your history-vider) emporium. r r i
As we have already seen, occasional lamex-rtsabout tile growtiz of passivity ar-rd ""seceatcrritis" appeared as early as the turn of the ccntulxr, Two diffcmnces between then and noa- need to be acknoa-ledged? however, First, and most obvious, is scale, Such complailsts were far less frequent in rgro or rgro, say, than in 1975. Second, and more sig~zificant,expressions of concern about passiviy earlier in the mezltieth cenlrumy cut tiertieatly through class lines and l~rowlevels. Audiences for high culture events, such as theater and corlcerts, wcre expected tcr t9c aftentive and silcnt.Jane Adcfams$ co-worker at Hull House, meanwlrilc, ~ZiIarySirnkhovitch, sllcsktlislrly remarked that silent film made viewers passive. "I"hatwas not exactly true, in fact, brit the pet-ception seems to have been wiclely shared, mostjy 114~people who did not go to see silent films! A generation later, tl~ough,Louis Adarrzic, a widefy read social observer notably interested in ethniciv, ix-rsistecf that consumer culture lrad errrergcd as one arrlor-rgseveral causes of ~,assiviv.' As I indicated earlier in chapters 4 and 5, lrowever, popular ctrlrure during the first lratf of tlre mentieth century flourished at various tiei-rues and in i-ruxnerousways t i ~ amost t certrainly quaitiEy as interacti~re and participatory; Let this 1927 comment by Rudolplr Fisher stand for thcrusands of others that might be cite& 'You don't just go to a cabaret and sit back and wait to ire ex-rtertair-red,%>U get out on the floor and join tlre pow-wow and lrelp entermin yourself." "Ioreover, as the Iristorian Lewis Erenberg l-rasnoted: Dining, drinking, talbng, and Birting at ti~eirseats with mernirers (>F their own party or with those at other eat~les,patrclns wcre relaxed and ecsuid see the performance in a more ix-rforxnal way. 'I'he mkles and the floor brought audience and performer into a more i~stirnaterelationship tlran was possible in conventioxlal theatres. Performers started ti~eiracts on the platfor~n and then stepped down ol-rto the Boar and appeared arnollg the diners, Even if the act was one that could t9c perhrxned 011 a more forxnai stagc, the fact of appearing in this special enirc-mmellt altered the nature of tlre interaction, 7'he dance Boor, the at~setlceof large proseenilrm arch sages, and the closeness of
the audience seated at tatlles made the room a scene of expressive activiv, '!'he entire respawant became the xrting fbr performance, and customers thelnselves could not escape becoming involwd in tlre ac.t-iom and spontaneity of tlre mornent. I<xpressiox-rsof concern about the demor-rstratrlegrowth af passive t ~ e h a ~ in o rNorth America were anticipted earitg in the 1950s when EIarold A Innis, a CIanadian lristorian, and sociologist Paul Lazarsfelct called attention to the passive reception of such modern media as movies and radio.'Wurirzg the later xq5o"hese critical ottser\.ations tended to be broadly inclusi\re, Singling out tefevisiox~as the archvillain came a decade later, In rg57, a few months t~eforeVancc f"ackard5sbest-scit er The Hidde~zPWSI~~I~WS appa"rG"C3,he wrote to his publisher that his research made it clear that many hnericans ""resent the growing conformitry and steritiv of their life where they are left only with tile roles of being coxlsurners or spectators," At a co~xference Instirute in 1959, historian Oscar I: Iandlin sponsored by the 'firnime~~t ctbsetved: ''rf'hi: mass media find space For politics and sports, fbr seierzcc and fiction, for art and music, all presented 011 an iller-rticalpiatca~r of irrelevance. h d the audience wlriclr receives this colnplex variey of wares accepts them passively as an undifferentiated but recognizal;tle series of good tizings amoilg which it has little capacity for ciroice, 2nd with which it carmot establish any rneaninghl, direct relationship." D u i n g the later 1950s and early '60s~critic I>wight R4acdonald expticitly hlamecf the growth oF passivity on mass culture. ""fhis causal connection arose all across the ideological spectrum from right of cellter to collsiderably lefi of center. 7'he diatribe lrad nor yet become the partisan ideotogicai dialogue that would ernerge in the later x y8os. C;ifbert Seldes, invariably referred to as ""the distinpished critic," shifted during the fifties from three decades of no~ahfyversadldt writing to i~ltcrlscccmcentraticm upon fitrn and television, At that same * Iarnirnent Institute conference in 1959, Selctes spectrlated that a dramatic irnprovemetlt in the qualijv of r ~ e d i aprograms still night nor solve the i m m e ~ ~ sproblem e of passive audiences, ""A nation which is passively accepting works er,re~~ teraimes as good as those we have now3 passively acceptinrg them, might stil/ be dmggetl and beccrme entireiy aaphedc and remain ernotior-ratiyimmamre, . . . We need an audience more active than any audience that lras ever befare been in the woirld."' t-
Because most af Seldes's ccarer had t9een so sr~ppc~rtive of popular cuttvrre, he feit quite a ~ r b a r about d his grc~wingnefl;sti.iism &ring his later years. SOin 1966, even while warning against making scapegoats of the mass media, be achowledged after fifteen years of intense study that people watched television even when no program that they acmally cared about was scheduled, 'l"ke proi~lemwith teleliision realfy was passively adcfictivc, went bqorlcf passiviry, Scldes said, I9ecanse F-le recogr-rized that the basic objective of broaifcasters '"is to create a habit," which was why a weak show commonty followed a good one. * I he snedia stratew was based upon a p.t-emise of passivity verging upon im~noi~ility.' It is necessany to ~zoticethat a Izexus t~emeenmass culture and "spectatoriris" was obsenred persist-entty in realms quite CIjstil-rct from television. "rhc Iaxnents, morecbver, came from consct-vativcs, moderates, and rariicals alike, Wi. find. it in the very first issue of Roklit~g&Ytone in November r967. rI'hat same srrmmer, some ultra-lekist Diggers in New h r k City slyly advised the press about their plans to perform perrilta theater. &%ereupon the San Frandsco Diggers, founders of the miJvement, tlenounccd this leak to the press as a pnblicity sturtt, a d therefore not permissibie under the mles of engagement of thcir versioll of perrilla tlreater because it created spectamrs rather than mgagrd partici1,ants.' Rchard Schickel has written a compefling passage a n the passive ~zatureof serious theatergoing during tile I 960s and "OS: t-
'
However caught up we are in the drama, we never entireiy erase our consciousness of the invisitjle fourth wall that separates us from the players on stage, hTo matter bow arthlly they are arranged, the t&itole presence of theatrical contientiar-rs-the woricling of lights, the xnovexnent of scenery9 the intermissioxz are iremcen acts-all sen7eto remincf us that this is not life witnessing, but a representation of lik, . . . W'e remain, in the theater?in what might be termed a passive-objective state. "I'hat is to say, we enter the playhouse consciousfy wi1Iing to surrender ourselves to the author and actors, passikrefy receptive to whatever delights are about to unfold, while a t tile same time retaining our consciousness of the fc~rrnaliyof the sening*At90ve all, wc will be under no illusion that wc are, or could ire, partidpar~ts in tlre drama, that we have anytlring at stake in the proceedings other than elljoyment and, possiM5 edificatiijn,'"
Schickel ackrsowtecfges that by the early 1980s some leading spirits in the rheatricai avant-garde l-rad hewn to rethink the problem of engagement by t ~ ~ r n i nincreasissgly g ts) thrust and arena staging, to entrances through the aisles, and direct address to the audience. Street and guerrilta theater carried such efforts a step hrther: XIe observes that these recent chaxlges in stagecraft ' h a y be seen as a practical recogx-ritiot~ of what theater pec~plesee as a defect in their art, an inakilit?,to directly appeal to the audience's ssubcrtnscious. . . ."" In 1988 ChAsropber Lasch lamented "dre transformadon of potitics from 3 central component of popular ctrlt-ure into a spectator sport," Looking at the low turnout of registered voters in presidential elections, the collsidcrabfy smaller pardcipatior-rin state and local elections, and the pathetic lack of interest in meaningkl schoolboard elections, Lasch corscludecl that ""dstriE~-cttive democracy has been achieved at the expense of participatoq democracy.""" Clearly, the advent of mass culture has not made evekyopze inertthat would be a specious and inlialid claim-yet its overall irnpxct is the cf-raracterof a sodet17 in which proportionately more xnernbers are less active than was the case fifty or one hundred p a r s ago, 'l'here are exceptions, c~fcourse, and each reader will supply his or her own fiavorite category. "Iburism, for example, has reached an ail-time high. iMore people parecipate in solne sort of organized sport today. What young foflcs do at waterparics during the su er is surely partidpatory; 'There is leisure-time activiq to be sure; but xirot a n a scale that is ctptilnal 0s- impressive in terms of the sociCty as a whole. Cornparko~~s with 1900 or even 1950 are di%cult, c~fcourse, because leisure was so much less abundant then, especially for ordinary hnericans.
"E'here seems to be little if anj7 dissent from IJouglas C;omeny"sriew that television has become the most prodigious entertainment and inforxnation machine in all of hurnm histoy. Most obsenrers would also agree with soci:iologist7bdd C2tlin that televisioll lras done more to nationalize American life tlran any other sissgle innovatio~~ or plrexlomenon," If we ask why the social impact of television was so much greater than that of radio, xnuftipfe reasolls ocmr. N7hereas radio was a d renlai~lsideal as background ""material" while one is doing otl-rcr things, fewer people were ix-rclined to turn on the tetcvision while performing tasks, especially during the first decades when each h r ~ n had e only one 71J, a ncslmzobile console ct~stomarilylczcated in the family
room, 13rccisetgt~ecauscone wants to watch what is happening on the screen, a person is less likely to engage in other activities at the s a w time. 7klevisiczn has bad a more profclund effect than radio because it cornpets more of our attenrion, It has long been valued for its ''babysitting" ccapabilities, which was ~nuc1-rless true of radio. And it has made two lirll generatios-rs of herical-rs Gar more visually oriexzted than their predecessors-all of which, by ntJw9is alct news, "What is notat~lypertir-rer-rtto this chapter, however, is the persiste~lt charge---made by people with long experience in broadcasl-ing, by ad\rertising exectxtives, and by a great rnaily students cof communicatios-rs, s o d o f o ~p s~y c h o l o ~ and , education-that t e l e ~ s i a nincreases passivity in a wide krariety of ways. Sct-rofarly studies echo Lasch's tarnent by shO~-ingthat television does make pcopte poiiticatly passke, T h e more they watch, the less tilcely they are to vote, "Why? Because pec~plewlro depclld heavily on 7.V for informadon are more inctilsed to believe that evellrs are moving too swi.Etly and remotely to be affected by the choices of an individuait citizex-r, By the mid-rg7os, some sources wondered whether the hnerican people had "lost the cagaciy f0r believjng in the reality of events in their awn lives."'" F-lencs their serlse ctf detachmei~tihnot despair, of t9eing incor~sequcntial rather than ctrmpetexlt in their civic capacities." If we turn to public opinion polls, the hl~dingsare somewlrat inconsistent and not entirefy reliable. Nevertheless, some strong impressias-rs do emerge, ta May 197r a Louis t larris poll asked T ,600 adutts (natior-rwide)for their response to this statement: "3kfevision is a good escape from tl-rc pressures of day-tcr-cf ay living*"665 % agreed, jj% ' disagreed, at1d 5% were not sure, T h e same peo$e were then asked for their reacdons to this asserl-ion:"3klevision is bad because it tur~lspeople into watchers, i-rotdoers." "57% agreed, 3 7% did ~zot,and 6% were not sure, A. substzlintiaf majal-iv thereby achowledged the passi\rityinducing effects of 'W.'" :Vow IetHlocrk at three polls taken during the sl-tmmerof 1978, ' f i e first one asked 1,622 adults ((nadonwide)what effect children5 shows on television bad 011 clrildrerng education, 55% said goadd,only I 2 alo said t~aci,10% said ~ z oeffect, ai-rother 10% said mixed, and x 3% gave * ?t"lass culture undermines civic culture in variotu ways, T t has been ol)se~l;etlthat police-show narratirres on television cmstantly displny vic)latI'ons of civil liberties, thereby redtlcirzg the ordinary citizenhawareness of constimtisnal rights and responsibilities,
no c~pir-rion, "fhe very same CBS pofX also asked: " m a t effect do ymz think televisior-r is I-r;tving on the educatio1-r chifdrer-r now receive? 11% general, is it having a good effect, a bad effect, or no effect at all?" '"I'he responses to t h ~quesdorn ~t were skewed quite diEerendy, c;ooci effect Bad efkct No effect Both good and bad X o opinion er of E 978, C;aflup asked E,$15 peapfe this questiot-r: ""Xfgr~urchildren watched less tetcvision, dc-,ymz think they would.. .
Read more Read less Read the same a~naunt ~30t-r'tI-inc~w
45 5'121
As I have indicated, these polls are certainly not conclusive, yet they do reveal a somewhat reluctant acknowledgment tlrat television is conducive to passivir-);.and prot~idesa fairly noticeable alternative (and disincentive) to readi~lg. 'Ibachers, child psychc~togists,autboritics in the fietd of commt~nimtjons, and television personalities all expressed their cot-rcerr-rmuch more emphaticaly, During the 1960s and '70s, teaclrers wlro rel-crembered stxltletlc who grew up witht~nttelevisiotl spoke with consideral~le emotion about their enhairced degree of imagination, engagement, and interactive behavio~A. reading specialist in tlre lg7ss who irrtcrviewed a very indifferent student, a television watches, repcg"t"d to tile kr~y"steachesti3at "'he wits not p e r k m i n g because he didn9twant m. He was uninterested, passive, and unin~olved."~ I he verdict on tlre 13BS children's program Ses~meStfeellt. frttm maIly perspectives has often been negative because the program encouraged passive learning, a phrase that recurs in the literature like a mantr-a. As early as 7960 Rruno Re~elheimexpressed the view that even ""l'x-rstrrtctive"klevision ixsduccd indolence or ix-rertia, " M y concer11," Bettelheirn wrote, "is less with content and muclr more with wlrat persistent watching does to a clrildg ability to relate to real peo-
'.
ple, to I~ecomeself-activated, to think 011 the basis of his own life experience instead of in sterecbwes out of skoa-s,'Tsychiatrist Witliam C"rlasser, who worked extensively in elementary schools, bemoaned the in&ility of many rT7L"-oriented youngsters to be engaged participants. "\VIiex~ aslced to become actively involved in learning (to read for example)," he said, ""they are passive. Used to receiving, they do Izat knoa- htt6" ta put forth an efftxt.'? Spkesmen h r the BBC: have said that Sesa.t~reStsseet prepares kids b r schctcrl I9ut not for life, and a l 9 w all, it encourages "passive box-watching."" John Elolt, the most widely read and respected of all authors on elemel-rcany educaGox~during the 1960s and "OS, observed that even the te itself teamed passively According to cf-rildren seen 0x1 S e s g ~ ~ Street F-lolt, '"earning on Sestrn~eS~taermeans kartling right answTcrsand right answcrs come fi-om groanuf3s. W'e rarety see ci-rildren fipring anything out. . . we rarely see childre11 doitzg atlyrhing," &lost astonishing of aI, perhaps, is the testisnony of Fred Rogers, lrast of the beloved i211i~erRoger$' iVeigbE?~~hooiE, I f e, too, agrees that Learning from telel~isionis a passive experience because i t ""rvariably. presexzts same kind of srimlation and lets viewers drink it in as they ' ~ w oother charges agair-rst the greatest menace c~fmass culture appeared with snrne ft-equency during the period kos-rr the later 1tr)60s to the early 1980s: the ultimate standardization of cult~sreas well as its privadzation, "T"11efirst af those charges was succinctly co~ztieyedin a L-r~l)erbalicl~lastby George C;erbxzer, dean of the Annenberg School CJFC:ornmunicatio~~at the Universit-y. c~fPcnnsylt~ax-ria,""'Television is the new spate retigion," he declarecf, ""nn by a private hfit-ristryof Culture (the three nem-orks), offeris~ga universal curriculum for a11 people, . . 'Ihe secox-rd charge, equally famiiiar, holds televisias-r respox~sitole for tile h l f i l l m e ~of ~ t one of Mewis dc 'fbcqucville's greatest fears: the priviltization of social life because ctrmk~rrablybt~~~rgecbis people withitraw themselves from involvement in civic afairs, As one perceptive scholar has ohsemd, television and electronic media in generat have radicaliy altered the significance of physical presence in the experience af social events. Once upon a time we assuxned &at p11ysicaL presexzce and praxirnity were prerequisites for firsthand experiex-rce. 'Ilelevlsian has radically ctiminished the importance of personal presence at evel-rtS ctf various sorts. It has become easy and ctmvenicnt to vicw all kinds of performances without acmaIly being there, In sum, the electronic media are seen as aEectissg sodal behavior rznt through the power of
their lncssagcs but by reconfiguring the settings in which people do or do not interact and 'tyweakening the c u s t o m q bond 't~cmeetlcultural evellts and specific physical sites.'" is prticularly apt here in support of wtch Perlraps one last impressions. In 1975 the Koper Organizatiorl asked 2,007 adults a somewhat more complicated but unusually interesting question. The intemicwer began by saying: "I'cople have been talking reccntly about the fact that they are changing some of their living habits. I'd like to ask yc~uabout this list of things. . . . n'c~uldyou go down [the list] and call off all those things you're doing less now (than a year ago/than you USC~ CO)?" Rcsponscs: J. Spending t h e at home R kffatching 7.Y(t-elevision) B. Shopping in large shopping centers X I, Reading books L. Blrying food, be\rcrages and other supplies in large quantities and shoypillrg less ofien D. Usiking with ti-ienifs or relatives who live quite nearby M. Phoning a store nt see if they have an item in stock before going to buy it C, C;oing to take-orrr ptaccs fix ready cooked food (harntrurgcrs, sandwiches, fried chicken, etc.) E, Eating out at restaurants A, Entertaining friends in yc>urhome t. Shopping in stoves that are not located in main sllopping areas G, Going out to places of public efltcr~ainment (sports e x n t ~COIICC~~S, , mcwics, etc.) K, Xqsiting with iiriencls or relatives who do not live nearby None IJon't lcxzow
10% 20
19 I8
6 22
1S
33 4-1 35 28
39
The greatest decline or decrease occurred in eating out, p i n g tc, places of public enccrtainment, enterraining friends at home, visiting
with friends or relatives who tlcr not live neartry; ar~dgoing to take-out places, Il'he privatimtion of social tifc does seem to have increased, and as a corollary, participatory interaction declines.27 We recognize that alI pt~llingresults need m be read with caution, particularly those that treat matters of lifesqfe and persai-ral preferences. Xeverthefess, despite flawed questiox-rnaires and some ~nisteading responses, POHS taken by reljat~leorganizations arc usehi indices of trends, Even their incor~sistenciescan be hefphl in exposing ambiguities and "wislr it weren9tso" etendencics," By the same token, of course, we now know that tlre rating sjTstems designed to measure the relative success of telelrisio~zp r ~ g r a m ~ deeply re flawed. '['hat is valuaitlle to recall that knowfedge. But from a historical perspecti~reit is esse~~tial during the r ggos, rc)tios, and rgyos, the kind of entertilinment that we recejved from the mass media, and from television especially, was y in the fit-st decade or so as largely determined t9y ratings, * I k ~ began nothing more than measurements of attention: what was watched and L~ow~nuch,After a while, L-rowever,atte~ztioxlgot tra~zslatedinto ""papulariy" and that, in mrr-r, inra an affirmatior-r on tile part of tsroadcasters ofthe ""satisfaction of wants," which, in the worcts of Gilbcrt Scldes, b i i a~ democratic ~ society. is takcx-r as an ethical obligation the mass media must fulfill." Give the pec~lplewhat they appear to want-ill fact, inulldate them with it.'' 'l-he dominance of telelrision in American life is unquestios-rcd. By the mlci-eighties the akrerage amount of t.xewing time per day had what t~cgsnto t9c contested t9y reached seven hours, 137; xggo, l~t~wever, serious absemers was the cyuativ of what appeared on comparecf to alterllative modes of entertairzment. Elere, for example, is J o h J. OXGonnc~r,televisirtll critic for the AVmt15rk Times, comparing btczckbuster movies with television: For decades, wmc of the more patronizing and printat~lecatch pi-rraseshave h e n rc.served for tefcvision. T h e pecking order of popuhr cula~reover the years settled into a widely accepted hierarchy. At tl-re buttom, there was television entertainment* In 1979 a national pot1 askmi: ""'Iizooften television wilt se~~sationalizc the news, "I'fiey'll do just about anphing to make a story interesting. Agree or disagree"X661;"lo agreed, 2 r % disagreed, and x 3 % were not sure. (Public AgencSa Foundation poll, Uece~nbcr1979, L'S13~~2;",8aSR",R~o~9 RC:BOR,)
forxntxia-riddexr, silly, pointless, and forget&t>fe, Far akt~ve, &ere was the art of film, occasionaity called cinema--prcthing, elevated, provocative, memorable. 7hose distincdons llever did bold up very well under close scrutinj~" Now as television entertainmel-rt enters the "as growing both Inore advenmrous, and pointed, they are being obliterated. . . . One thing would seem certairr. A sigzriticaxrt sea change has taken place in popular cutmre, It is now the typical tloitvv;crod fitm that is bcccrming pnin.cless and forgettal~le.h d it is televisictn that is showing tlistinct signs of being p'ovocative and, on occasion, memoral~le. 'I'he old pecking order is wry much on the verge of collapse."" 'l'he phrase ""ekevision ccsrnes t ~ fage" "has t>y now txen used too cthen in too many different ways. But surely a benchmark occurred late in 1997 when the Newhouse School of f3ublic Communication at Syractrse Universitry opened a new academic research center desig~zatedas the Center b r the Stvdy of Popular "fkle\~ision.'f'he dean of the Newhouse School explained that the cerzter would ""sdy television entertainment prcrgrams with the same care and passion as musicologists stll<jy hlozart a d Ellingon, or professors of Ix, ESPx, and Inany others appa~endylay just beyorrd the horiznlrr. HBQ began modestly in 1972; by 1997 it had a ~ t p r o ~ ~ ~rwetrty-three ~tcly million subscribers9 dierc1)y reaching about orre quarter o f &c victving puldic. Many A k ~ ~ e r i cholnes a r ~ now have at least nvu relexrisio~~ secs, and 30% are estimated to have three, Pelshaps 70% have YCR players, and at least that triany have rerliote control clevices.
AMERICAN CULTURE, AMERICAN TASTES
Most important of all, perhaps, these and other changes in the nature of commercial television pressured the agencies to become ever more innovative and clever. Advertising acquired unexpected characteristics, such as referring to or incorporating themes from popular songs, movies, other well-known ads, and even explicit statements by and about competing products. Contemporary advertising depends upon the vast viewing audience being familiar with an array of recent referents in mass and popular culture. Consequently, mass c u h has ~ become self-referential in a way that certainly was not the case in 1925 or 1950 or even 1975. T&nking increasingly in global terms, moreover, sponsors recognize that ads will be understood, appreciated, or even disliked in various ways around the world-owing to cultural relativism. Because it is not always easy to anticipate what will work in diverse international settings, ads are constantly being tied, pulled, and remade in an ongoing process of experimentation and testing, Nevertheless, in the 1990s mare than ever, the commercial remains an instrument of cultural power on behalf of free enterprise.)' Adding to the impact of new technologies on mass culture since the x980s, film rentals from video stores for home use have had a very potent influence upon Hollywood and its modus operandi. The VCR made possible what authorities refer to as "time-shifting," which added extraordinary flexibility to people's leisure-time schedules because they became less dependent upon both broadcasters' and cablecasters' control of their time. In 1992 Americans rented 3.5 billion videos, and the number has leaped geometrically since then.The emergence of video games undeniably made television more interactive for some, mainly the younger generation.* By the later 1980s, television remained a passive pastime for many, but offered participatory possibilities for others, particularly youthful viewers.3F The intensified competition among television shows and flms led to a new and symptomatic development during the rg8os: publishing reports in newspapers and journals (on a weekly basis) of the relative success of these shows in terms of b x office receipts and numbers of * In 1995 a double-page ad begm to appear for Sony and the Game Show Channel. On the right-hand side is a futuristic cordless touchtone receiver/speaker below a single word in bold letters: Interact. On the left-hand page the text emphasizes "our interactive games," ser in motion "simply by picking up rhe phone. Interact with the only network that turns your viewen into players."A Matisse-like cutout figure in four vivid colors leaps above the text in lively fashion.
viewers, Siirnjlariy, papers like the Akzc %rk Times.publish t~cst-seller tistri in at least triwr categories, with suppiementav figures to illdicate wlriclr bcsoks are advancing and which are declining, Richard Schickel has called this a "rage for quanl-ification in the arts,"%? h e implicaticms would seem to be that the great herd of huma~zitywill follow wherever the herd teaders go, At the very least, there is ai-r expecution that succcss breeds srrccess arrd that indifkrent success (f-,cingonly the fifthhigt7est-earning film that week, say) is antrmt~ux-rtto fa'lilum. If this pattern doesn't suggest the quantificarion of culture, it surely lneans that the massificaeon of ctslrure is ncsw deemed newsworthy on a weekly basis. 'l-he obsessios-rwit11 pofls, ratings, and rankings that seems so pemasive in our time brings us right back to t l ~ eissuc of w11etl1er televisiot~ has beccsrne more interactive and acccssitrfe in terms of initiative for the individual viewer. Inviting Inembers of the studio audience or the viewing audience to ""vc>rc5'011 some issue is cited as an illustration of increased ex-rglgement, and it warrants some credibiliq.* In People's Cozlrl; for example, a popular legal program involving f~enuinecases at the small-clal'xns level, the studio audjei~cevotes for the plaintiff (or the ifekirdant. h e critic, Dt~ugiasRtlshkoE, regards this as merely "a nod to interaetivitr~r"because tlre vote hats rlcs bearing on Judge IVapnerls decision, "I'he voting dynarnic Inay fulfil1 the lerrer of participation, but not tire spirit,i7 ItushkofPs work is k-rluabte l~ecauseof its judicious l~alnnce.IIe exnphasizes the gex-reratiot~alshift that occurred during the 1980s ct-c\ringto changes in technolog~~ cfigerences in taste preferences, and the prolifcrarion of television sets per family. Hence this extravagallt yet actste observation made by Tirnorhy C>'Lear-yin 1993: 'l"ke importance of the Xintendo p h e ~ ~ a r n e ~isl aabout n equal to had z a new gex-rthat af the Cutex-rbergprinting press. 1lere y t ~ ~ eratiot~af kids wha grew rrp ks-rowix-rgthat they ccsuid change what's on the screen. Upstairs, Mclm and Dad are in the living room-tlrey're baby b c ~ c m e r s s s i v ewatching l the news or * "'Elk ratlio'%scarted in 1970 when E;osconS Ecfdie ,.tndeIman began rn rake telephone calls in order a) fill dead spots on a S ~ I Z program, S During the rgRos and "gas, l~af6crtitmacoryIJrcjgralzIs 01-rtelevision grew dramaticsally, YZk Birck f,we on C:hX, for example, is announced as "an insceracrilre program,'Yn which the shcrw is primarily generateif by the aurriicncc: Iivc via tctcphonc, f a , and d~lclntcrnct,
prime time the way they passively watchecf Disney back when They were kids, h d dc~wf-rin the kids' room, the kids are chianging the scree11 . . . the ability to change what8 on the screen is the trel~lendotlsempowement,'" Rusfrloff L-rirnself is insiste1"r that: adofcscents since the xg8os ""dn9z"tjust reccive and digest media. 'l'hey maniprrtate it. . . .rfhey are in a living relationship with it." ''['he new t-c.chnotogies, l-re believes, l321ve atlawed h e r i c a n s to "gaduate from passive, ignorant speccams to active, infor~zedparticipants," He points our that Tbe Pb2 Doilzahr~e Show emerged during the ry7os as the 1.7emy first truiy fyartidpatov interview show9a revolutior-raryconcept that made IJanaI-ruea ~zatioxzal icon by the earty 1980s and sukseqrlentiy spawned litcralb dozens of prtrgrams with similar forfxlm.'" Even Rushkoiff, bczwever, achowledges that a basic objective of pubtic relations fir1s.1~is to create passive and manipulable audiences, and that the firms\capaci.ey to do so has grow11 cxponentialfy during the past thirty years. I: Te recognizes that the "modal, moral, and ideot o g i d intirnaq this box ft~stersand foists is addictive." Addiction may not be cjulte the sarnc thing as passivil-~j;but there is ccrtair-rly a close connection, Rushkoiff ncstes that some &ITVvideos "invite interactivthe partial and not very potent ity"; but he subsequelltly ack~~owledges Izature of the t~ewers"ower ~ z omatter how ellgaged they Inay l ~ eI:, Ie quotes a diafope bemeen Beavis ancl Butt-head that makes the point perfectly: "Is this supposed to be the future?" h a v i s asks, "It tucks. C;hange it." "'lb whicl~BuM-heacf responds with surpisingly adrranced wit, ""Bavis, t'm cool, but I can't cba~zgethe hmre." More laughs. "i'hc boys understand that h2'I'V prides itself on its abiliy to bend tjrne and I~ringimng-cs frc~mthe past illto the present, but they know how to take this all in stride, 'l'hey change the channel, inflicting rheir will on the mediu~nthe only way they know kow: channel sur-Fitlg. In doing so they agajn demonstrate for us how to watch "E'Vin the ~zineties.~" We could easily projiferatc illustratiot-rsof the innc~~atiuns that 1321ve altered mass ct:lx.fturcand its bchaviorat col-rseyrrenccs in rcccs-rt years; but doing so would only gild the lily and distract us from a second
major & h e , which has been raging fiir rnore than a ifecade now and mtlst t9c addressed. First, Xsawcver, let5 mention one rnore inr-rovation, because of its apparent whimsj~and because its appearance is so irnminent: the TirsdeClcart, a shc113ping cart witlr a six-l;ry-nine screen attached where the kiddiesbeat was tracii~or-rallylocated. infrared sensors placed on tile ceiling of the store cause the scree11to Bash ads, messages, and recipes as tlle customer passes variorls prcrducts. The same kind c~ft e c h n o l o ~that ~ scans the Universat Procfuct Chde will now scan tlre shrrpg-reras be or she pcregrinates tlwough the supermarket, Intrusive, convenient, interactive (sort of), wlrile leaving tlre buyer pasivcly awtliting the rsext infrared zap.4"
Alti~ougi~ the advocates of individwal autonomj7 and personal "appropriation" in tile age of mass culture have been most vocal since the mid-1980s @ken the ci~angesjust descrjbed certainly strengthened their case), the antecedents fbr their position actuatly date back to the 1g5o"n lesser ways and to the 1970s in more compelling ales, 1Iistc)rical c~mtextrequires that they be noticed, even though sopne of them migL~tbe disputed or modi6ed. In her study of everyday life during tile x y~os,for example, Karal h ~ &farling n made this obsewatioxs: Remeen 1947 and 1953, revenues for spectator sports and amusements shrrwed a marked dip, despite increases in population and inco~neand the i~ssatiabledernaild for 7"V sets. T h e popular singer ancl C:BS star Perry Como said that his fatrorite home pastime was "m create a still life cor-rsisting of "E'V set, bowl of fruit, paring knife, cigarette, and C o r n stretciled out on the couch." k i t he was the ix-rdolentexception, &harket research proved that it was tlre heaviest ?V-watclrers who were liable to be most interested in painting a still life or reupholstering tlre living raorn soh. Power tools and other do-it-yourself accessories were a $1 2 billion industy by the end of the decade; $30 mitlior~more wcnt for amateur art sr~pplics.""'fhere seems to ire a major trend away from passive, crc~wdamusements toward active pursuits that perrple can c a r 7 o n independently;") con-
ctrrdecl a highly regarded study af this ""Changed America" with plenty of time on its hands. iMarli~~g also contends that going to Disneyland was not a passive experiesirce because the visitor ""now became asir actor, a reat-life pardcipalirt "ace up in the rain'as a rackety little boat plawed under Schwcitzer I!'ails," Asking rhetorically what it is like to be in Disneytand, however, Miles Oweit has offered an interpretatiot~that 1 find Inme permasi,e: "At.chitecnrral focal points caprrtre our gaze as we move, pulling us from place m place. k%Tetravel passively through l a d scape" on water, on rails, on wheels, surve+ng tire whale of the contained space, . . .*"" Next, attej-rtionhas been called to social scientists cx-rgagcd in mccfia researcl7 during the 1960s and '70s~ xboiars who pursued what is called a ""uses and gradficadons" qproach because they believed tlrat individuals seek to satis+ needs and ci>llsequendyhave specific expectations from the media. Because these researchers ascribed considerable initiative to the audience, they did sirat believe that effects could be inkrrcd from 1001Ci11g solely at the ctsilterlt of prctgrams. Their appn~achwould theret~yplace an interacdve model of producers and audiences at the heart of media researclr. Consequently, tlre lneaning or understatnding of any "text" "(or media message) results from the calltent of the text cosnbined with the persollal interests, prior experiences, critical af~iiities,asird values of the readem; listener, a r viewer. M a t e v e r this uwrk evenmaity demonstrates in empiricat ways, it certainty ascribes to audiences the anriE}-cttesaf active ix-rterpreters, and assiglls importance to each audience member's frame of mind, legitimate motives, interests, and hfici-relde Certeau, a brilliaxlt asird inBue~ltiatFrcsirci-r cultural critic, even insisted that: solitary reading was xirot passive t~ehakriarbecause the very act of readil-rg a text transforms and enhances rhe mcarling of that text-an argument t i ~ ade t (.:erteau and his disciples eventwalfy applied to watelring teievision as well. Janice A Radway, a11 autlrority in the fields ofhericart. Studies and ct~lruralstudies, has extended that argumelirt, thaugir less aggressively and in more nuai~lcedways, to ardinary middle- and working-class wornell who enjoy reading romances-a study that Radwq made in the later 1970s.'~ Stuart FSaXI, or-re of the hux-rders af the culturat studies approach during the 1g6as, and schr>tarsgathered around hiln at the U l ~ v e r sity of Birmingham and at the Open University in England, have
developecf emphases comparable to those of hjichel de Certcau, nixmefy: that consumers frlllction as active respondentc;to their ctdture rather than as passive uictirns of media manipulation, These critics find creativiy in the act of consumption and emphasize the concept of "appropriadon"": selecting those aspects of media messages that are meaninghl to them and then ""rycEling" &ern to suit their owxz needs, Lmine have been outspoken advoGeorgc Lipsitz and Lawrence cates af this position in the America11 context, with Levine vigoroustg rejecting "dlre image of the purely passive mass audience ready to absorb, consciously and unconsciously, whatever ideological message those controlling the mass culture industry want rct feed thenr.'"ji I3erhaps the most aggressive adaptation of dc Certeau and IIail's vicws to mass ctdture and television has been made by John t"iske, a prrrfessor of ccrmmrrnicatiocr arts at the Xirriversiy of Wisconsjn who previously tauglrt in Australia and Ckreat Britain, Fiske lras wrieen extensively and comparatively, drawing brt~adlyupon ill-depth studies that others L-rave made of the television experience in ~ j r i a u scousirtries onwealth, tlle is also one of the most explicitly ideological writers on this sut~ject,inflecting his &larxist discourse with words like domination arid resistilnce, polyserny (multiplc mearirings), cultural economj;; textual space, monovoeal capitalist ideolou, and popular ctrlrural capital Let"st>egin with the strengths of Elislce's position. I Ie insists upon the social di\rersity of the k4ewing audience for any given progrgm, and then observes that pccjple resporld ir7 cfigerent ways frecause of variations in class, occtrpatiocr, race, and gender. teactive and engaged-following teads, distinpishing the suizstanriai from the trivial, spthesizing insigkts drawn From differetlt wurces, fcmrruiating new cjuescions,"" mTritingin 1997, hr>\vever,the Italian critic 2nd novelist -erto Eco, a veteran travelcr in lryperrealit-y;raised unsettling concerlls that maIly others share, ti~aughEco claimed to feel optimistic a b u t the aIzswers, 'We are living in a new efectror-ric co "which is global enougft, but it is nclt a tillage that one means a humm senlement where people are directly interacting with one anotlrer: T h e real problem of an electronic communiq is solitude. . . . Can computers irnpfernent not a nemork of one-to-one contacts urinv of interactive s u l ~ j e c ~ ? ? l1etwee1-r solitary souls but a real co E:ca hopes so, yet he achowledges that the jury is likefy to be out for quite a while yet.5' remrn tcr what I 11ave designated the s e c o ~ ~debate, d the sr~f~jcct: of this secdon, my owl1 position is clearly closer to that of skeprics like Clarke, C;irlin, Lears, Lazere, and f driller, thnn to the degree of agencr); resistance, and appropriation from mass culture perceived l>y de Certeau, t lall, Fislce, Levine, Lipsitz, and others. 1 see a significant difference between reaction or response, which may or may x-rot occxr wl-ren persons watch te(e.rision, for instance, and viahte, mcaninghl interactior~wirbils the manifold aspects of mass culture, wlriclr ilsvolves an ongoing process requil-ing genuine social and civic participation. Tz cite simply one example, and therel~yacknowledge the complesty of our sul~jcct,t regard sports in tile United States, overall, as being more passive at the a d d t ievel (watching r-atl~erthan piayiflg) than it was 11alf a c c n t q ago, but increasil~glyparticipatorq~ (and organized) for youngsters at tlw primay and s e c o n d q school levels. It should also be nested &at duri.;ingthe early decades ofthis centuy Progressive educators discouraged passive ~ect;"tor&ipand insisted upon the isnportal-rceof children+~rtie.ipation in sports activities. '~iwoimpcrrtar~tcaveats are x-reecfed here concerning gender and more women are clearly engaged in arganizecf sports as class. *Ma~-ry well as personal exercise programs than, sayl,three decades ago. W%en
we turn to Cjass, l-rowevea;sociologists have fburrd that persails at the ""mddle occupational levels" spend nearly mice as much c~ftheir leisure time in the role of passive specrators than those in eitlrer the upper or lower vocational levels, where active participation in atlrletics is Inore prevalex-rt. 'l'he diseinctiox~is sig~~illcant; but we must keep in mind that the ~niddleclass is easily the most inclusive in the United Spates arld thereft~retenifs to be t17~basis fbr definil-rg gin~r~xative'? Lebavior patterns."] Finally, in order to achowledge in yet another way that comfortable closure is impossitjle, we must recognize the predictable ab.cence of any conser"rus about the preser-rt state of popular culmre and, more particularly; how hnericans feel about it. (hTotethat even manjr who write about these issues professionally conrinue to use the phrases 'IIIZasSf?and " p ~ p d a ~vtt'lire'? r interclla~lge;1t9ty)h r i l - r gJuly 1995 the AWew&rk Tivfessurveyed I ,209 adults, of:wlrom 41 I were parents with children ages two through seventeen living with them. The quest-ions coxzcerztrated on peopfe*erceptiox~s of the impact on younger Axnericans of telelrrsion, films, tixdeo games and tapes, and popular nus sic. T h e respoi-rses were extremely x-regative, strongly emphasizing the adverse impact c~fmass ~ d t u r ein terms of violex~ce,sexuat activlq, undesirable lifesqles, and so fortlr, 7'he Tij~1e3'sextensive feature story carried the lreadline: '"bericans Ilespair of Popular C~lture."'"~ In coxztrast, other reports of various sorts absolutefy glow about the maIly high-qwality prograxns that: appear on IIKO; the varied and exceller-rt series on nature, science, and history that m11 on f3NS; the astc~nisl-ringlyhigh visitation figures b r museums of art and historqp, historical sites, living history farms; and communiv-generated artsrelated activities at the grassroots level, According to Inany sources, the clwaliy of popular culture in the ti~~iteci States is rernaricabfy good, especially cor-rsidering how inadeqwate the levels of fi~za~-rcial support are,": Perhaps JO~IEI Fiske and others are correct wl-re~~ they assert that "popul:lr culture is ctrntradicmry. It is shot through with conwadictiotls that escape control," So if we cannot conclude with genuine concfusiveaess, we should at least aspire ta historicat judiciousness. Much of what I: have Geer-r aiming at is i-ricely ex-rcapsulated in tile following remarks by Morag Shiachi, a Scots disciple of Raymond Witiams, the perceptive ~vtturaicritic from Wales (are critics who ernerge from the margins less myopic about where the mainstream is headed?):
Ml of these judgements atlout popular culture, as in decline, as leaditlg to addiction, as the last h t i o n of authenticity, are misleading to the extellt that they are aurr~matic,7'he very significant con.riniliries from the eighteenth century to rhe present day9 and from apologist for Mctorian capimtism to theorist of revolutiomary cfirange, reveal the power of these sorts of assessments o f p p " i a r dtrurc. 'I'hey represent a set of an-imdes t-t,.r?rardsCV{mre and societqnr t9ut they do not represellt an analpis of cultural relations at a given historid moment. If we are to be shle to irnagi~~e culturaf pluralirqi; to underst.;lnd the possible relations l~emeerzcultul-at production and social power, and to see the historical dirne~~slox~s of pxticular culmraf developments, then the conccptr; which we t9ring to bear on the analysis of popular culture xireed to ire much more careklty co~-rsiderecS.This can ct111y be done thrctugll sn amtlrion to the history of analyses of popular cdnrre, a critical reappraisal of "ol,vious5~juctgemencs about the Izature ancl pote~~tiaf of "dire populan;" and a constant cluestio~~ing of the power and significance of the dornina~~t cuXmreeh3
Historians and the Pl-ob
in Recent Times
My particular fclcrls in this cllapter is innovation by historiatns (broatily defined) concerning the role of popular culture in tlre United Ststes, accompa~ziedl ~ skepticlsrn y toward and even irritation at certain forms of imovatiox~,especially as presexzted on public tefevisiox~and in diverse rnlfsclrms of history and art. 1 have in view artistic innwation in the preset-rtation of American history to a trroact not-r-academic audience accompanied by resistance from professional historians in defense ol what they regartl as haIance, schlosiveconwoversies, most noably 7'be Wee m A~~zericrr: Reirzte~-prctiipzgImgg6.s oftbc Ft-~zztie'~" (rgg E ) at the Xatiox~al;Museum al.: hericai-r Art (note in the negtected sutxitie that i-rigl-tlycharged word '"Reinterpmting," which pnrvokes nemous ar-rxiev) ar-rd the notori(~usiyakortecf Elzokti G~ijt exhibit (The Lrrst Act) plallned for the National Air and Space Museum in Washingon, also a component of the Smithsoniarn, h immense amour-rt has already been written about these a i d other exhibitior-rs that caused eruplions of ixnpas4oxxed sentiment, pro and con.4' 'rhe point that I wish ~TC) make at~outthe '"essons'? those episodes teach is a lirric different from what has already been written, and it fits well with the foctrs of this clrapter, By 1gg5' and especially owing to the ERoI~G y fracas, the words ""interpretation," """ri~~terpretation,?~ and ""revisiosGs~~-r" h d t~ecometainted in the public mind-mysterious activities that museums and historians undertakce that must surely t ~ e manipdative, pemrse, and highly sut9jcctivc. Rcvisitrnism sounded suspiciuus(y and ucrrcfiahfy Marist rathcr than being a process that l-cright he harnessed to anp mode of pmisanship-or to none, *Ia?the
jay public today, "".rvisior-rism" apparently means mccfdfing with conver-rtiunai wisdom, otherwise knc~wnas absolrrtc trrtth, In 1995 Rtrsh Lirnbaugh loved m fulminate on his popular radio prograln against ""iterpret;ztion5' in history, That concern became botlr pervasive and L-rigL-rlyrepresenm tive, Yet it was not exactly new. Baclc in E 92 2 , taking a position in his influential t~ookPribil. Oip-inkn, 'Watter Lippmann asserted that except fbr historians, social scientists had a rnncl-r tckugl-rer time than naturai scicr~tistsin persuading the generat public of anything because social scientists dealt with human nature, an elusive and impressionistic subject, Lippmann made an exception for those who deal with '"the liistoric past" because they coutd at feast xnarsfral facts to support their 6ndings. 7"ez years tater, Cart Becker expficitiy acknowledged Evevman"s preference for facts but implicitly indicated the perpetual incvitzrt~iiitgraf interpretadon and reisionism. "In every age," Becker wrote, ""lbistory is taken to be a story of actual events frrtm which a significant meaning may be derived; and in every age the illusitos-r is that the presexzt vet-sio~zis vatid because the related !&actsare true, whereas former tiersians are invatid because based upon inaccurate W inadequabe facts.'"' Remeen Lippxnanx~and Recker, two very diffcrer-rtmen, I think we have nearly ellough background t c ullderstalld ~ why tlre h e s c a n pubtic wants m believe that, at a given time, msm-orthy history consists oP true hcts (or else uxlambipous artifac~)accuratefj~orpnized axzd presented, No Inore and no less. N o spin, thank you very much; and please, no revisionism. (It is hardly a secret that history gcts rewritten from time to time; but "reisjot~is~n" "ems to have acquired pejuradve overmnes though guilt by association with "radical" as well as righrwing revisionism, such as Holocatrsr deniers.j4' fi'lx~t, then, is the missing elemerlc or concern needed in order hlty to coxnprefre~zdthe hnericans%enthusiasm for historicat !&actsand their anxiety. about interprepation? (As far back as the 1830s the respect that Amerimns disptayed fbr empirical evidencc impmssed AIexis de Iocquevile,) I believe tlrat it is a curious 01-tsession with perceptions of czlrtkenrtritjr, a desire t b r ciiates back at least- a cerlturq. and a, haK As Jaclaon Lears has writtell with referer-rce to tile later nincteerzth century: "MGthin 1nuc1-rof the dominant discourse of tile educated classes the centrihfal spread of commercial c~hjetsd'art prcrvuked a reassertion of familiar ifualisms-c-leep mearzirlg vs, sl-tperficinl appearances, art vs. advertisi~sg-wlrether in a moralistic, aesthetic, or sdentific P
,
Historians a~zdthc PF-oblemqf Pqp~lnl-Czlitrrr-e in Recent T i ~ ~ e s idiom. T h e contrast bercveert autl-renticiv and artifice has persisted down to the present."% Lawrence W. Levine links the assault upon diverse "i~rauthentic" cultural forms to a prrfcess that he calls the ""scralization of culture" in the United States and that t-re associates especially with the decades from around 1875 to 1915 or so, Miles Clrvefl has devoted an entire book to what he cleverly calls Tbc Retzk Thing: Iv~irgtio,z/dndAgzhe~~ticiq z'n kmel-lctan C'l~Itrw-c., r88o-ry4a ( ~ 9 8 9 ) \3lilliarn . Stottk innovadve study of Documc~ltgryExpi*exsio~~ m;ld Thi~"ti(?-~ Americlz ( I 97 3) demonstrates conclusively that fr~rthe period be closely scrutiinizes, authenticity served as an imperative "ynoswe for photograptrers, filminakers, case worker studies, documei~tavreportrage, and the i n h r ~ ~ ax-rarrant tive, In describing both the research and the expository strateB7 for his prize-winning book, The Greeat War nndiCjlodr"~-z ,Wemtii:y (I ~ 7 5 ) the r li te r a y kstorian Paul Fussell lras revealed his concenl about the authenticity of tlre Inany memoirs and diaries that Ire explored. "pf"c~ wlrat degrec,'"e wandered, ""was acute and compelling memory of traumatic occasions a dividend of a literary educatiox-r?"" then, "m hint at one thing the buok was abuut, I dedicated it to the rnernoay [of a feltw soIdicr killed in World War K], and to give the prc~ccedingsempirical authendciv, m remind readers that I was atIuditlg m a ~ n a nwho was once real and alive, like themselves, nor an idea but an acc~ialperson. . . Does this ongoing concern about authenticity along with puMic wariness about ix-rterpretationconnect with our prixttary cor-rcers-rhere: American responses to histc~ricalconsiderations of p o p ~ ~ ict:lx.fturc, ar as well as doc~tment.;lyand museum presentations of poloular culture? &S, I believe that tl-rej;.both do. Elere is a brief extract from a review written by ail art critic when High d~ L m opei-red in Los h-rgeles: "Varxledoe and C;op~ziksignal an awarer-ress that all is not: well in the trajectory of &e fine arts' alliancc with popular culture by introducing a variation 011 Mam$ aphorism, First time tragcdy, second time, krcc." The art world5 own need for fresh lczlv-cttlmre stclck reflects recent interest in the naive authenticiv coF thrik-slrap artseM In cxptaining the reasoi-rsfor Ken Burns+yopufar success in ~naldng docluxnentary 6txns, Robert: Brent "Gillin offered this obsemation: One hallmark of his work co~tccrr-recfthe rejection of fictional elemellts and concentration on authentic evidence from the
past. In making The Ciz~illEVm, -far e m y t e , Burns did not incorporilte re-enactmcnts by modenl-day fipres dressed as soidicrs or feature actors in period costumes or draw upon dramatic excerpts from EIollywrood movies, Instead, Ire foctrsed on authentic sources froin the war-ptrotagraphs, lithographs, paintings, newspapers, letters, signs, LrandbiXls, and other items. . . . hjusic also carried messages and conrributecf to tl-rc sense of authenticiq. Cker>ff;-eyC , k%%rd,chief script writer for Tbe Ciz~z'IWZr and autlror of the best-selling book that accoxnpai-rled the televised series, had this to say in explaining his own background for collaboradon with Ken Bums: ""I-r~venever taught history. But I did put in five years as editor ctf Arrre,-kg%Hwicl~ge,trqping to make anthentic "nistc.~sy as widely accessible as possible on ~>aper."~' Understanding why tlre public mistrusts tlre concept of interprewti01-r and yearx-rs for authenticlry is a coxnptex and variable mattem: One reasoi-r, X believe, arises from the brevity of the pubf-ichteer-rtiox~span when visiting historic sites and mweums, a variation on tl-rc brief anentiorl span that W'alter Lippmann noticed seventy.-five p a r s ago when Americans read h e i r n e w ~ p a p e ~?'he , ' ~ Natioltal h'fuseuirr of American ITlistory in bVdshi~sgmn,I>,C:,, is vast. Allyone with a genuine interest: in histoy could easily spend the better part OF two days in that huge and diverse paxlorama afthe past. Vet we krzow that the average visitor (there were five and a half million in rg(i7) spends about ninety mirlutes ficeing it selectivciy and very superficially. 'I'hat person does nor wish to know that multiple interpretations of an object, a phcnomencsn, or an event are possiMe, S L E C knowledge ~ would only be perplexing, or even seriously discc>~~ll-ordng, Similarly, in terxns of watching teletrised documentaries about the Amerimn past, that person also wan& a u t e n t c r or illusion--as a means of avoiding ambipities inl-rcrent in biurr-ed lines bewee11 fiction and nonficstirtn, ever more common since mTilliamStyroll's wildly controversial nc~velThe d"sr@ssiorrs $Nat Xtr-rzer ( I 967) and Alex I Ialeyg R0or-s (1976). \Ve even have a ward now, "Eaction," to describe tlris conflation of genres that results in conhsiox~bemeen wl-ratwas real and what is imagined, fact and fictictn* 'The problexn exists for schc~lars,as wet[, t9ccausc we have t~ccome accustomed to acktlodedging the ""social consrruction" 'of what we
Historians a~zdthc PF-oblemqf Pqp~lnl-Czlitrrr-e in Recent T i ~ ~ e s perceive to be ""ra1it~7,"~ Few phenomena in the realms of culture, sociew or politics have an independent, objective reality. They been ""sciafly constructed." Likewise, we read increasingly about "invented" cor'kconstmcted" selves, be drey George k%Kashingrr)nor Sujourner 'f-mti~~ Buffiaio Bill or Klvis Presle)r.""7*hat tendency, in mrrr, raises concerlls about i~mzlrhe;~ittic selves, about biographers interpreting their subjects with psycholcrgical ""shin," and abc~lztinve~~ted interpmmdons of tradition, a i d thereby results in schotars sharing some of the concenls of tlre general public where the presentation of popular ctrlrure is invc~lved." "I'hese reasoils for (and pxteerns ok) &strwt may help to explain the growing appeal of oral histories that presexzt the voices of ordinamy perrple, because they seem to be inifisprtahfy allthentic and devoid of insidious interpretation or "rcvisioi~."f have in mind, For exampie, the work of Studs "fkrkel, such as Hgrlf Tij~1e.r:An Ort!rZffieor71$*the G~aeixt Depr-esxion ( ~ g l o )or, Worki~zg:Peopk 7;alfi.Abovr m n t They DOAll Day x18d How Tbcy Fed About mat They Do ( I 974, or "The Good Wgt-"":B 072l Hi.e~~y of Workcl Wat-11 (I 984, I have in mind the steadiiy widening appreciation for the work of John and Atan Lomax in colle&ng cawt~aybdads, prison sol~gs,and mtrsic of the American folk. And 1 have in mind the apg-realof Raymollcl Williar~shnotiontlrat: "culttrre is ~rdinary."'~ Ilespite the widely shared enthusiasln for Williams's populist belief that the folk create and trax~sinitas well as receive cuft-ure, L~owever,there still remain serious differer~cesamong L~istorians, scholars in c ~ r n m ~ n i ~ a t iaoi di ~ins ~xlturalstuifics, abot~tthe degrees ctf agency or passivity, appropriation or manipularion of poputar culture by ordinaq h e r i c a n s , and vice versa.53
Mec tings
the Mnds.?
Custortay Categories
*
I he purpose of this final clrapter is literally to complete, compare, and coxzclude, t woufd like to believe that the central tt~emesof this inquirjlr are by xirow fully evident, IJespite a large and rapidly growing l~odyof
t-
writi~~g, schofars ar~dinterested ctbsctvers I-rave not been s-rrfftcier~tly antentive to the genuine diffct-er-rcestremcen mass and p o p ~ ~ icvtmre ar in the United States, One major reason resu2ts from a failure to pay adequate atretlrion to change over tii-ae, and Inore particularly m &Stinctions worthy of note z~ithiip.~ phases that we blithely tend to regard as usintary; such as the generation prior to N70rtd &hr 1, or the intewar years, or the C:oid War era, or contempcbrav culture since the r 970s. I have sought to indicate some major causes and conscqnences of the democratization of culture in t w e n 6 e t h - c e n t h e r i c a . A a n g the way we have noted the significant roles played by consumerism, hnerican nationafism, and the partisa~ir(er,7e11 ideotogical) cornnutmen& of promincrirt observers ranging from right to left, Special notice has been &ven to tile graduaf dcclinc. of cxlmrai authoriv and its dispiacement in recellrt deca&s by sources and stakel~oidcrsof mltural power because authoriv and power lnay occasionally coi~scide,
Meetings ofthe ,Wi~ds?lZlovi~zgBeyond Czrstomufr Categor-ies t9ut n t ~very t ahe~1in the history of popular and mass culture, Special emphasis has beer1 placed upon the imporl-ant patters1 of I9turrc.d boundaries, first bemeen mass and popular culture but eventualy bewee11 high and popular culture as well, and even (inper~plekeclectic preferences) t~emeenhigh and mass culture, h the lines bemeer-r taste levels have l~ecoxneincreasingly difhcrrlt to discern, Inore and more phei~omena,events, fads, ar~ctideas havc to be acknow%cdgcdas being "beyond categov." W5thout stinting on the actual suhstal~ceof all those phenomena, I have sought to use the views of cult~rralcritics as open windows on the confiprations of clrange-recognizilsg full well that 1n-y obsemers L~avepeered ti~ro-tt~gh apertures that varied in size, angle of obsewation, and hence the potentiaf for distortion, Being a historiallr myself, I have given special space in chapter nine t-o sevct-ai kinds of histtrriails and the p r o b k m a t i ~clf popular ct~Itltre, At this point it seems inc~~mbent upon me to revisit just a few of these matters for purposes of clal-lfieationif not, indeed, scarificatiollthe latter in order to leave per~~anex-rt markers that might indicate the particular tribal identiv of this projecthrier-rtatior-r, So let us begin, perhaps, with the relationsl~ipbetween taste preferences and social ctass. Ccrrrelations bemeen the two that were okcn (tbrtgh not inwriably) clear during the period from the 1870s and. 30s until well after %%%>rld k%KarI1 have become much less s s since the later 1950s when most of the full force of mass cuft-ure as we know it t~ecarneevident.' Mter ~nidcer-rt-ur~ slrcir word-cor-rcepemas ""tste" and "refir~eme~~t" began to appear with less frequency in crtltrrrat tlisco~~rsc, being supw11ieh appeared for planted, fbr example, by new words like b"if~st;vie," the first time in Wel?ste~-"Sl)iiGfio~ta'~i in 1gi.51, "I'he term gradually replaced its predecessors, such as ""way of life," and conveyed nuances af indeterminate class characteristics. Needless to s q class distinctions certainly did ~zotdisappear entirely, t ~ u tdirect correlations bemeen sociat class and li fesrqrle became pragrcssi.rely more elusive, As late as 1948, 'K S. Etjot continr~edto assert (just as Atexis de Iocqueville had more than a centuy earlier) that culrure, by which he really meant high culture, and "equalitarianisnz""could nor be reconaf obsemers stilt accepted that dictum; but ever ciled.* A !&air.t~umt>er since tile xyzos, and especially stasdng in the thirties, an increasing
P
,
* It srxrely is a $%rcinderhlirony that: the longest-n~nningRwatlway musical, Cats, is casually based on Eliot's witty book of pems, UlliPo.rs-u~tS Book $ I " T U ~ T I CC~r2.r ~ ~ (1939).
numtjer af voices called for more inciusive defix-ritions of culture and sought ways and mems to achieve mmy referred to as bVemocratic distincdon," h recently as tlre 1970s and "0s the hTational Entlowmetlts for the Arts and cbe Humanities continued to stmggle wit11 ways of achiet4ng that delicate balance, 'f'lzeir programs sought "excellexzce n~zdequiy," "quality n~zdoutreach to the grassroots of A~1eric.a.If an ideal equilibrium still lilas not been ~achied,at teast many skeptics x-rolonger read the phrase ""dmocratic distix-rcdox-r"as ar-r. oxymoron,' Ever silsce the 1960s~as increasing nrrmbers of educated people wit11 i-righbrow taste find that they also derive considerable pleasure from popufar culture as well as some aspects of Inass culture, the word "'hi~xlturai'Vilasacquired specid resonance--the cultural equivalent, redly is not newni, hc~wever,"I'here perhaps, of ""hisemal.'~tlic~~turalism has sirnply been a sbifi: from certain phenomena within tlre sociery being hjcutrurd in their audiences to muclr greater rnnml~ersoP indit.xcluaifs or small groups being Giculmral in our own time, When Clwen ( I 904 a i d W* It. Kurnett's LiflLe Gii.esnr ( I y sc)) \%ster9s T h e K"~"@nifivr first appeared? they sold very wetl ard enjoyed brrra$ appeat, t ~ u not t vcrticatly to the ""lt>wernlevels as measurecf by ir-rcome and ecfucation, Nevertheless, each book becarne widely imitated at all levels of access and attractiveness, Each book became a movie (several tirnes, eventually), and each one became the p r o t o w e for a daxninant American mjqhos and its ateer-rdant genre: the western and the gangster drama. C:ox-rseqrrenttlr, each t~ookevcr-rtuallyhad a profound impact upon popular land mass culture,' lcny given mythos migllt reach the public in diRerent ways at &@erent levels, In more recent decades biculturalism has acquired new meaninp and salience because the same message is likely ta reaeir a more Ezornoge~-reous(yet highly segmented) pul~licthrough the same (rather &an differer-rt) media; yet irulividuats are incrcasingiy tikely to select their entertair-rmcx-rtsfri~meclectic TXICXIIIS. As Seldcs wrote in 1950, which was a pivotal mc~mentfor our purposes, "in a democratic societ-)r there are not only many kinds of people," but each one lras multiple interests, curiosities, and desires. 'f"herefore, the inevitable function of a mass mediuxn is to satis+ as maxly as possible. ""tPi72-tenthis hncdon i s wet[ executed," he c.)bscmed,"cntertainmet~tcuts acrclss the tines of highbrow and lwbrow."' In recent decades that cut seems to occur wlrether the fnnction is wefI executed or not, though it cer-
Meetings ofthe ,Wi~ds?lZlovi~zgBeyond Czrstomufr Categor-ies tainly I~oistersthe process of bicr;lituralisrn if it is wetl ~ c ) I I ~Scldes, , as rntxch as a n p n e , watltccf p o p ~ ~ i acxiturc r to ire troth democratic: and disdnguished. Be that as it may, tlre tension between a ratings-driven desire for maigmized profits ancl a quaitiv-driven concern to expal-rd horizor-rs rernained ek7erpresent during tile 1980s and "OS, As one critic put it, "'if hrctrtdcasters are compelled t r ~give people what they think they want rather than what they will ac:m;~tlyenjcly, if they i~aveto offer what people will c h o s e if asked, rather than what they might have chosen if tl-rey had kncswn about it, then they will have to forget about qualif;vlni So there we have a m major aspect of ambi~ralenceand contestadon in modern American cuitrlrat l ~ i s t oThere ~. are many othcrs, as I have tried to indicate throug110~1t.'I'he k c of Artxicy foflowing World k%KarET-lreavy clrzuds of potential nrrclear destrucdon and social conformism hanging over an aHuent soeiey enjoying ullprecedented leisure+eemed surfeited wit11 anamaties. In 1948, for example, a feature story in Lqe magazine decfared that the hnerican Gamily was atcrrnistic and disintegrating, M y ? Because of the proliferadon of popular culture activities and the social nems that they suppfied' T h e otlmard pull of movies, automnljiies, bridge clubs, a d Elks constalltly threatens what lit& fia~zilyu n i y rernains.'"7"t-r essay actually lslaxned athletic teams and the Girl Scouts for the decline of Gamily life. t lyperbalic, to be sure. A time would come when hnericans would feel nostalgic about sl~chgooct ofd days, But these were syrnptcrrns of arnhivalerzce about ~vttut-altransition ar~dits scrcial consequences. I,@ obviously guessed wrotlg. %%!?thina very few years television would prolnpt a change in attitude. Nevertheless, that is what mally milliczns af hnericans read about thernsefves in 1948.' Vet another arena of ex-rormous ambivatex-rce and contestation appears when we look at attit-udes toward science and t e c h n o f o ~ during the rgdos and 70s. On that subject, public opiniojl polls are extraordinarily useful for two reasons, *Z"heyreveal astonislring ineonsistencies, yet it is not altogetlrer clear whether that is because of am&piry among the respondents a r the variat~leways in which tile questions were asked. I Iere is a sampling af seven from arnallg a great many taken at that time. r due to the wor-rdersthat From 197I : "Modern ijfe is much t r e ~ eoff scicnrific progress has l~rougl.lt,"Xr "Z;; agreed, ro% disagreed, and 9%
were 110t sure, MSOfrom 1971, however: "Sciei~ceis making pec~pleso ifepe~~dent on ptlgets and machines, petrple don't know what n a m e is anymore." "venty-mo % agreed, 2 2 % disagreed, and A% were nor suree7 From 1972: "Do you feel that scie~zceand tecfinolou have char~ged life for the better or for the worse?? 70% said better, 8% said worse, r x % said troth, 2% feIt neithcrlmo effect, and 9% had no opinion. But in 197" 76% agreed with this assertion: "Chr sckntific prtrgllcss /ias gone far b e p n d our progress in Inanaging our huinan proklerns, and it's time we concentrated on the human side." Only I 3% disagreed and x r 63% were not sure," 'l"ul-xling to the end of the ser,re~~ties, we have tile foflowing statemcrlt ct@cred on a poil: '%cierztific disccrver-ies are making our lives stroi~glyagxed, 64% hc.atthier*easic, and more comfortable." v'%, agreed, r 4% disagreed, 2 % str011gIy disagree4 and 3 94 didn" kknw * I he previous year, though, another poll lrad presellted the assertion that ""peopfe would f>ebetter off if they lived a more simple life witfiout so much technolom." "63% agreed, 33% disagreed, and 4% didn9t know what to think."" Perhaps the articxiation of tlic polling instruments themscives does ~ n u c bto affect or even shape the responses, I do believe, however, tlrar undertyitlg ambiguides in Arnericitn culture are just as consequetltial as these palls indicate, But here is one more t i ~ a ts u g g e s ~a gel-ruine yearning for partlcipatoay interactior-r: enough, alreadj: of the couch pcrtato sy~drome,In 1977 Louid)Xafris and Associates put this question to r , 5 0 2 pecrple: "If you had to choose, do yrru think that Iicr-e ir-1 this country we might place more elnphasis on . . ." t-
Improving and speeding up our af~iiiyto commus-ricatewith each other through better technolou Spcrlding more time getting to know each other better as human beings on a person-to-person basis =tTotsure
r 5% 77% 8 10
"E'here does seem to be a certain j~earningreflected in the ovewhetxning response fbr personat interaction. On the other hand, this poil prcccdcti the Internet, chat rooms, ar-rd e-maii, 'l'he prrrportionate responses today would ulldoubtedly be rather diEerent.
Meetings ofthe ,Wi~ds?lZlovi~zgBeyond Czrstomufr Categor-ies I've already said a great &at about the area of a m h i g u i ~and contcstario~~ concerning the passive influence of elccnonic enterr;tinmerzt versus the befief by John Fiske and others that viewers retain agenq, resist domination by broadcmters, and selecdvely appropriate those pieces of programs that can be rer-rdered ~nea~~ingful. to them and used to suit their own attitudiaal or emotiox~al~zeeds.'f'he most jlrciiciotrs comxncx-rt on that divisive issue comes fri~rna team of hnericar-r researchers in journalism and cornmunicatjot~research, ""X is clearl'? they wrote itt 1gg1, "that audiences should be regarded neitlrer as passive dupes nor as active rationalists, but there is cclllsiderable territory in I~emeen.'" One last arerm of contestation that we have not yet touched upon has reccived less attentior-r,though it has not exactly been neglected, T h e issue invcdves the chiaracter and qrrraliy of journaiism, both on television anci in print, In his controversial book El'~-e[zkitfgthe i;Ve~s, pubtisbed in 1996, Jarnes Fallows asked whether contemporary jour~zalists(including powerhl publislrers and I>roadt.asters)merely want to inform and cx-rtertain the public, or wlietber they acruaitly want to engage it.
If they want to entertails, they will keep doing wlrat tlrey lrave done far the last generation, C-:oncentratittg on conflict and spectacte, building up celebrities and tearing them down, presenting a crisis or issue with the mfume tur~-reCIall the way up, only to drop that issue and turn to the next emergex-rcy. 'I'hey will make themselves &c center of attention, as they exchange one-litters as if ptll~lielife were a parlor game and make fun of rhe gaHes and imperfections of a y o n e in public life. Fallows is most impressed I I a~small-scale trend that l-re calls ""pbtic journalis~n,"because it car1 best serve what he sees as the most
km-
damentai purpose of jonrnalism, "'making democratic self-goverr2mex1t possible." He ackrrowledges tlrat his mandate has been rejected by such large enterprises as the major networks, the iVm$Erk Times, the Wzs~5~ P I ~ QPmt; T ~ and the St. Loftis ;F"o&-11iG'cpatck9 but is advocated and practieed by newspapers in smaller and ~nid-sizecommunities like Xorfslk; C:haritotte; &~OII;hjaclison, Wisconsjn; and Wichi~a.In those places, Faflc~wscor-rtex-rds,reporters and ecfitars enjoy a '%naturaf bond to their c o m n z u s ~ ithat ~ will slever e i s t between, say; Ted Kopg-rel and his
viewers around the world." Faltows is not sax-rpix-re,but he is clear about the options and their implications. H e calts attention to the way the C15a.rliil~eOhsewet- decided to cover North C:arofissak elections in 1992, T h e editors did nor wgmt their reporrissg to be driven by tlrose issues that each calldidate believed would be tractically useh"uln the elections. ""l~stead,they Gegaiir ail elaborate effort to determine what issues the state's people ketiwcd were mtst important, and what other issues might have the greatest impact on the state's k t t ~ r welfare e even t h u g h the public was not yet fuHy aware of them." wlrar Fallows means liy piltblic jour~lalismever achieves a broader scale, its impact upon m r apahedc (i,e,, passive) elecmrrtte could be cortsiderable.l"
If. nrrd Rc.sc.rlhxt~~~f A Grotirrj "E'he impact al.: satellite t e c h ~ z a t has o ~ altered the ~neariringand ixnptications of mass culture to a degree unimagincd as recerztly as the r 970s. l'he speed and geographic spread of instantaneous tl-ansmission transfc~rm the irnplimtions of what is implied hiJi "'glot~alwcnts" l~ecausethe events are snot merely happetling globally, they are k i n g observed globally and simutmneously. T h e transfr,rmation of Eastern Europe (1989-911, the tragic evellcs in Beijing ( I 989), and the Persian C;uXE Vlrar (s 991) come to mind immediately as examptes. Sports, scientific achietrements (and disasters) in space, along with an array of human ix-rtcrest stories, also come to mind immecfiately. As &)liehacl Churevitch has poissted out, however, global public opinir>nresponds in diverse ways to wlrat is reported and shown; yet the fundas~ent.;llfact rernains that wortdtvide public o$nior~ is profoundly siraped by media pracrjces.lZ Nevertheless, unlike public opinion polls in the United States, corrtradictcrrq~and confilsing as they can be at times, there are no glc~balpofls, So putlltc opir-rion on an international scale is even Inme elusive and diEcult to de$pher with any degree of assurance. To survey the differes~cesand sirnifal-ltiesover time between popular culture in the United States and the rest of the world would require a volume co~zsiclcl-ablylarger than this one and Gar more knowIedge a d inft~rmationthan X possess. Sueh a project would bc esceectir-rgly complicated, moretrver, because thase wha investigate and write atlout popular culture in prernodern Europe, for example, use different criteP .
Meetings ofthe ,Wi~ds?lZlovi~zgBeyond Czrstomufr Categor-ies ria and have some very &Rerent emphases than their American ctmnterparts, It seems difficult if not virtcrally impossihie to vnchtonizc. and properly compare what we Irave learsled about popular and consumer culture in Europe prior to the mid-nineteenth centuy with what we lcxzow about the prerevolutiox~arycolorGes and the United States. 'rhe Xsistc~rianEtizabeth I5sex-rsteix-r, for examplet has cast doubt 011 the vaiidity of sharp distinctions between oral and titerate cultures t9y showing that the t~oundariesl~em-eentlre two were extremely pc->rous, and that what tlre illiterate peasant heard in oral culture had long since been transfor~~ed by the adrrei~tof print in the fifteenth cenmq. Scholars who work on the I3rotestant Rcfor~~aGox~ in Ciermanjr or upon the genesis of mass culture in France tend t r ~insjst that mass culture, as they understand rhe term, began with the cir~xlationof printed books, tracts, and treatises.I4 Evert. more isnloortant, those wlro study popular culture in premodern Europe invariably incorporate political emphases and implica tians y hnerican that we less frequexztly find developed in work dai-rc l ~ their counterparts. "When I'mmanuel Le FZty Lacfuric studied ~ars-rivaiin the sixteenth-eenmay French c o m m t l n i ~of tlomans, I-re found cttltllre and popular politics inextricably intertwined, perhaps because he chose to focus on a time of bitter conflict in Romans for whiclr tlre documentation is uriusuaiXly riicfi. 'f'lze same is true of Charles "E'iily"sorlc a n The t"uzztezitthz4~French, even thougir his t~ookis broad in scope rather than a case study in depth like Le Roy Lacfut-iek. So 'l'itly louked at battles in Burpndy; Statemaking, CapicaXism, and Gox-rtcx-rt5or-r;Festivals and 1;igbts in the Ite-de-France; and so forth. \%%en David Sabean exal-crinetl popular culture and village discourse in early modhe emphasized a series of oppositioi-ral refatior-rshipsin ern C;erxna~~y, the process of looking at tex-rsiox~sl1etwee1-rlocal power and state ideolan:dilagct-sversus regional officials, power versus conscience, and SO o11," W'e have little work of that r-ramre for the United Sates. By the last third of tlre niiseteenth cenr-uq, hr>wever,popular culture along with a-ities"perceprions ofit in Europe began to share considerably Inare in comznan with their counterparts in the United States. t Xighly significant differences persisted, to be sure, but they were increasingly balarzced by similarities. Writing about t'rancc during this pericxl, for eeuample, Kobert J. Bcxucha uses an astute phrase, "tlre moralization of soeicry;" to describe the bourgeois and elitist
responx to the efisivr: growth of popular culture, a phrase that is eyrralXy apt as a mccinct characterimtim af responses in Victorian America. Throughout &Testem Europe the ss-called Reform &lovelnellt t~ecarnepervasive: ""a closer regulation of popular tjelravior; an [attempted] improvement in tire cosnmon people's tastes and morals, a reform of tireir habirual vices, tire instilling in them of discipfinc and orderliness. . . ." W'e cat1 the American parallel to that the 13uriy Crusade, h-rd as Rczr~chasr~mmarizcsthe situatjot-rin Europe, the Reform Llilovernent coisscided with the tlreakup of t-raditional sociey: it was one of the agencies by which "the variey of local, tradi.ricmal, popular cuItures inherited from the past gave way before an official . . . ~zationalculmre," ""I'hat, too, has resonariree in the hericaxz scene, thcnzgh not to t l ~ csame degree because ethnic, religious, and regional popular cultures were less ver3erablc, less wclJ established, and more lnalleat~le.'~ When we move into the m-entietlr centLtry? key differences and paints of contrast still remain, 'f"he study of mass co cuIture among social scie~ztistsin the United States became heavily exnpirjcal and tough-minded. It foilowed Harofd Lasswet15 mandate to ask: "Who says what in which char-met, to whom, with what egeets?'? European critics objected that the profusion of studies along sucl-rlines lacked "my real insight into tlre tratnsfnjssictn of colmral values or concern with the growth and namre of a culture industryI seen as part of a coxxsumer s o d e v " "'I'lzat phase of difference and contrast was dominax-rt during the rgjos, "OS, and 30s. As English schufar has c.)bsewcd,h e r i c a n research tended to col-rcet-rtratcheavily on Lasswell3 "wlro,'"%ro wlrom," and "witlr wlrat eEeet,'bWi)reas Euroloean research stressed the ""what" a11d "in what channel," "tlrereb~r,perbalos, discovering a ~niddle-groundbetrweerir the work of tire sodotogist and the cultural critic.?"7 By the r 950s and "dos, ct:lxlturaXcritics in and from E u n ~ p eundcr-riably deveioped more tl-reclretical orier-rtations, first amorlg French and Engtish writers, anci subsequently amotlg Germat1 at1d Italiatl ones. Eventually, of course, the European cri-lties inAuellced llulnerous observers and critics in the United States, though stau~xchanti-hfarx;rst sentimerirts in America placed limits upasir the extent of that influence, T h e Ioducts"drat degrade us ttt the level of philistines.'"
High ~ ~ t mmay r e or may not he in decline, and mass culture may or may not be a disposafjle categov; hut I feel fairly sarzpine that ~vtmral cri-lcicism as an essential pracece and contributiiort. to our discourse is not cfihausted. It filnccjrlns in mnsr 01; the c u s t o m q places, ranging from essajrs in little mapzines to 6lxns to television talk sl-rowsto GCti011, Ilcre, for example, is a prowcaGve extract from Jay C;a11tor9s Kp-gzy hr, a 1987 nr~vetthat rises as its point of deparmre Gewge f i r riman"sf)rrit~tessentisttcomic strip from the l-rcydayof p o p l a r cdtrure. Ignatzl?iambitions go beyond the Inere flat comic strip: the intrica te plot of f i g z y k'kt encasnpasses Ignatzg dcticlbolica t ly car-rtrived efforts to transcend the fa~axniliartwo dime~-rsio~~s, the lowly Aatland of popular culture, and antain to rhe rour~cfnessctf to CJ%sa Pup: "Mm high art. l p a t z explains his intentio~~s other itnmigranrs and their childre11 . . .I" ready to give Anerica a big Chanukab present back-a new image of the self* But this time why lock oursefves up in the pop-culmre ghetto? Nrhy not strut uptown ta the ma~zsionof high art, of roundness, and say &at our gift to America ccsuld rank with Eugcnc OWcil13s or Henry james$? hxcrica ~ttlelisa tmly lier~torl~tic high art. Anerica needs tlre round coirlic strip!""' 'l"ke principal lesson to be learned, 1 believe, from reading such texts, aXorirg with Bmsteink and flenninghal~dthose of their respondents, is that we have ccsme a very long way in our pcrccpdox-rs sincc and Lcs~rfirow"in in~gxg. Some Van Wyck Brooks wrote "if%tghf>n3w time ago, perlraps in the generariot1 that took me from adolescence to senescence, hericart. leisure and paste most assuredly moved. "beyond ca tegoy." '1"his lmok has attempted to answer three rnajor questiox~sthat are intimntcly refated yet separable in terms of when they were mast prrnninent l-ristorically, and also in order to explain the confipr-ation of variables (or factors) needed far understanding each <me. " l i l t e f i t - ~guefy could he put tlris way: Why did a vexing concern about cufmral stratilicaGon and differentiat taste levels in the United States arise around rylS and persist for nearly half a cei-rmyMt tcast four major factors ct~me~TC) mind. * Because tlre i~stelligentsia,modest in nrrmber yet highly selfaware, especially tlre aspiring literad, wanted an hericart.
Meetings ofthe ,Wi~ds?lZlovi~zgBeyond Czrstomufr Categor-ies response to a legacy of problems raised by a bevy of llace in C;eneral Cufture," held on April 19, 1940, a t uhe Anerican Phifosophicaf Socieq and putllished in tl-te Socieq's Proceedi~zgs,83 (Sept. zs,1940)~ 5 x 5-88. 4. "The State of Arrlerican IYridl~g,I 948: Seven CJtzestio~~s," "~3~drti.stzrz R c z . ~ X~j >( A u ~ Ixyq8), s ~ 8~5--9+ 5 . ""Cur Cr~ul~cr~s anct (>ur Culmre," P a r t t ~ nR e v i ~ x9 ~ , (May, July, and September x y 5 2). 6, Norri~allJacobs, ed., Ii1~~I#~~-ef;iir the XilZ'IIr'otr~?~~.ILz.F.c Xiledrr'l~in i9,1r~det~r ,(io~-icrq (Boston, ry6x), the proceedings of a spposirim held in June ryjg, jointfy sponsored by the 'Timmirnent 1nst-itul-eand the r4merican ~2cademj~ of Arts and Sciences. 7. '"~"hX e g o in kherisan Cbfture," C~-o.r-rCliaz~e~zts,x x (Spring x y61), 205-24. 8. C. !V E, Bigst))i ed,, iipprotdche~to PopttIar Cz~ltuwfBt>wlingGree1.1, Ohio, xg76), d ~ proceedings e of a cr3nfertrence held a t the Cniversiq of East Anglia in the srsrnrner of r $173. 'Vm Cril.erioa, 4 y, Roger Mirnbalf, "Debatirrg the 1Irrmanities at Yife," (June 1986)~2y-332 in m ~ o n s eto a aone-day fij~rrlpasiutnon ""'fie 13rrmanidesarid the i'ubblis int.ercst.." I a. Kirk TL'amedoe and Adan] C;rtpnik, eds., i9,1r~~fe:fern Arf aa~llf12aj?tt.llur(,aztl~tr.e: Ker;rdinCqsin l-fi'qh artd 1,ow fP;ew York, I ~ Q O a) ,cclllectiun of originat
essays by contemporay critics in co~~j~nction with a major ehibicion iniGated by the 3"lusetlm of ,Modern Art, lfigb & L m : ~ V ~ O LArt ~ B -mz~l' B
Pogztlfi~jrrGLJI~~P-~, hfichacl Derrniag et al., """X'"tEeEnd of LZlass Culnrrc," 1li.trernnrkrznl r",o/ror. &nd W~s-kGr2~1f-C/~s.c l-fi.rto?y, 37 (Spring I Y ~ O ) , 4-3 X , and atidit-iux~al rcspanses in ibid., 38 (Fall x yyo), 63-671 and 39 (Spring x yy I), 33-34, I z. John Dean and Jean-Paul Galiiltiet, eds., E~tr'ope~z~~ Re1~111:~rgc $'Amcri~-(z~~ IJopal&s-G1~1r24rc(\Vestport, Cmn., X 9961, the proceedings (of a conferellce held at Chandlljr?near I%aris,in 1993. q. E d i d ~Ktlrzweil anti I\~?lliarr~ Phillips, eds,, Qr4.r Coztnt~y,0 r ~Caitiltt~~~: Tbe I3oliticr fPolitical Co~^~'el*zfl~r (n.p., I yglli). I I.
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x, See Klslmonrt IWilfialns, "OR1fig.h and Popular Coiture," NK, I 7 (So\-2 3. x974.1, x3-1d; Michael I4Freszln, A Xlebel zn Dejitz.ce qfYkaei~ttorr:'I3e ~12d P0Itttt:q of h z g b r JPncdonaid &e\v %xk, 1994). 14.0, 287-89, 299. See atso C&.mlcZ Par-
shall, ""fie I~ro~thets of Pop Cutture," KS: A\re~s & Wot-ld Repovl, Jtrne r , r 998, pp. 5660, follc~\s-edI,y.Todd Gitlin, ""Pop Goes rhe Culture" (an ess'zy}, 70- j r . &4'ilthsugh t>otllpieces are alxnost entirety ~011cernei2with 121ass c ~ ~ l t uby r e anyone's definiriox~,the term '"pular culmre" i s used throtlghout,
Smcdre.r (Sew York, r ggS), 32 7-2 8; Ken 2. 3IartinJay (ILIR~CCIin 1,awrence i"G: Idwine, Fftgl~bl-oa./laowbroz!*: Tl7e Emer- Ringle, ""Five Stars at the Center of "t'heir Po.rt, Dec. 8, r 997, gen:'~~-t> of C;'Ult~~rgl I"rzer-urt-bj~rz rlrn~~lw e'niverse," Was-I~t.~fprz (Cambridge, Mass,, 19R8), "4; Peter pp. Bx , 136; Susan Sontag, Agat~1-\T l~zterBrrrkc, Poi~ular-&Itillre EH Ei~rIy~dlodcr~iprmtza~zupid Oflfm Ji\:rlutirtnaly in the histo1-y of entertainrnelit industly 17e , I~tti.ledz(lte mass cukure and its impact on ~'Lr~~erican 0. Rofiert I l i i r s h c ~ ~T~ socicry." A cycle 4' Outr~gc:A~2tencin:r Erj~ej-fence:,"110ztllrs, (:om~u,i'%ent,u and Keg.4man to tl?e ,Tzkvenrle Del~3tqzkeatzn the (Itj~erAsfiects oj' Populur Cidlm~e(New York, 1ybr), 2 9 , I 28, I 52, the quotation r g5o.r m e w York, 1986),4, 4. Harold 1,. N?lensk, "Mass Society at 34. See also f3om Def ,iXjoS novel I;CiT?lte and &[ass Culture: Iizrcrdc~tcndcncc or "Vorsc.(hTewYork, x g85), r o,
ro. C , TV E,Bigsbg; "The Politics of to the f3resent," in iVarren 1,eori and Popular C:ixlture," in t3igsl>y, ed., Ray Rosenmeig, eds,, F f t . t t o ~JItrzlrns Appadt-be.s to Poj~ubr Giltaru (Bc~kvling rrr. the Ut7trerl Sr47te.s (Urhann, r 989), 3-9; 17. Kulik, exhibition review in J h f l, 78 @me Cireen, Ohio, 1976)~ I r. Scc J. Al. C;oll>y and A. LV. PurI 991)~ 2 56; I,evinc, 12'z~hfwo'it"/Lo~~tr~ow, ofthe Grozd: Poyfil~tr ch. r. due, 1Be Gz~rlt-irno~ 2 I. L,evine, 12'zgb~rrm/I,oz~l~rm~ chs. C g k ~ ~ w EttIg/n~zd, 1770-1900 (New York, 19841, ch. I, esp. I 7-1 8 and 2-3; Pal11J. DLflaggio, 'Culmral Enrrrex 94-iyj; hnclrea Stulrnan Dennett, I.f+frd p ~ n e u r s h i p in Kineteenth-Czentury & l4/5~1derfifl: T5e L)zr?;re,\Iusez&?7?E?ZAmer- Boston: The Creation of an Organizational Rase of Filigh C:ixlture in :4~11erica~" rr43 (Xew York, I y 97). I 2 . Cctnstancc b u r k e * A~tiera-zrx~r in ChanciEra Mukerji and ,lificIiacl SchudXlun~rrr:A Study clif the a\kna?tal (I17gr-nczer son, eds., Rerlvmk.zl?g Popzdnr dinlture: y rrr C"u/rurd (Xew %irk, rgjx); Constance Kojt~rke, G n r ~ ~ ~ p o r u qI2er..rpetnzlcr,c Tbe R0ot.s ofi*1rnrr~i-i7rr Czdltilrr (Kew h r k , Szz4dle.r (Berketey9r gp), 3 74-97. 194");Art'nt~rK. A4oore, 7i"le FYOP~~"IPT*2 2. T~anielI'd'alker T30we, ""C'ict-orian Culture in rl~~lcrica," hlmd (I,exin@c>n,Ky., I 957). in inI.fowc, ed., CZctor 3. Sirrman J. Bn,nner, Gr~irsplrrg rlt7n R ~ ~ f e r f(X)hiladelphia, r 9j6), r 3. ca 2 3. J t h "knsich, A Cl'entrd Tl~rrrgs:filk ,%
[email protected]"ulrux.e urzd ,Vfa+ss Swler3, m R~~ferrcn (Lexiagton, Ky., I 986); ~i:lzde;zzor: Ameurr4111Culture dcrtrzd F"o1zt1r.slt.2 Rcrbert Czanwell, Wbr~zI.$% Were Good: the Gtlded Age (Smnfojrd, 1971);Kent "Ife I;& Kez?~zrdt/(Ca~zxbririge, Mass., L,atld Stcchiicsscr, 771e We,@e871Ifera ~n Fflsto~y urzd I,cge?ml (Xornnan, Okla,, r9gG). I 4. L,aurrcnce !V. I,evinc, ""'l'lie Folk1965), 44-45; Seil llarris, C;"uftu?-al lore of IndustriaX Society: fbpular Cul- f i ~ r c ~ l r s ~~l.Iarkef~rzg ~ ~ ? . ~ : A/lpperlre.r1717d did!l n1 ;Zlode~~t i"lmer-lct~(13hieago3, n1re and Its Audiences," N f K , 97 t ~ r g Y2~e.r (Dece~nbcr I 992), esp. I 3 70; Gene 1 9g4,109. Bluestein, IZopla~-e: Folk a d Pop t ~ ilmep-lz 24. F ilarris, &/rural Ext*u~:rz,czorzs,x 24; Mass., r g g ~ ) . Kobert: TK RyclelI, All the World%ir Fatr: crnn CziItiire (l%~r"lrr.Lbcrsr, IZ?? 15.Gans, Popzll,rr Ci41tut-e nnd Fltgl? E.rto~r.ref'Entpls.our ~ " ~ T E ~ Y I C J??fen~arto~z~11 r 87619 I 6 (Chicagc), I y 841, C"lllru8-e,Gi; Mic'nael Kernan, ""Smitl-rson- Erj~o-rztcztlo?~.~, ian Secretav Rnbert McCorxnick Marns 13-14, 33-35, 56452, 64-68; Jarnes i,oolis to S e w 1~orizons,'"~;ztrl;/?.c@~lrr~kr?Cirossman, ed., The Ehmntzer m 44men~zrz C~~ltu?-ca hl~gazznc(Septcnxber 19g4), I 5. ((Bcrkejey, I 994, I z--47. x 6. 7': S,Eliot, 3Iiore.r Trn~>&#-dr a DcJinr2 5, Earl S. Poi~lerc~y, ,%eart-?7of rife ~ Z O M~f'Cuftgx.c (Idondon, 1948), I 20. fioillircn I44.w: Tbc~"rirzc7-mzi.2 B/?~-tern Amerr j. Kayn~or-rcIkVilIiams, """TheIdea of rr43 (New York, I y j7), I X . a C:ommon Culture" "9682, in I%rllliarm, 26. C:harles f3udley 1bTarnel; "W%at Resnurce:r of Hip: Czrlt~re, Demtucr.giy, Is Your CuImre tn .Trn~lnier?r 4 (r 8721, reps. in Alan "ti-achtenS o ~ ~ l r l r(E,ondocr, n 1989)~35; italics in ;2lnmrh(~* herg, cd., Drnotr-at~c&.rt~z~-, I X do--I 880 original. r8. E, E cl'fio~npson,C E J T Oln~ ~CSm - (Xew York, rg?o), 3 38, 346; Russell Jacolly, ""Ik ?ROM (Xew York, rygj), 72,243. 1I)eclinc of Amcrictln Intelr 9. David 13. Hall, FVo~-/nirof' Wondei(eu; lecti~ats," in Tan Angus and Sut Jhally, I>izy.t. rrfJ~cigmenr:PopgIar RC>~Z,~IOPAS Beitef ects., d'ulturul Po/gr~.r m Cmre~ttporu;.y zn Edrrfi E~~gia~rd (New York, I 9891, A~tiera-ICI~ (Kew York, I 9891, 2 71-8r; x 73, ,,177;Grimsted, "Rooks and Cul- Tkomas Bender, I8ztelIet.t (rnd Pul~izcI,$;: ture, 298-301,&c quotatior-rat 301. Er-sqs nrr the SocruI ~ I ~ J T OofP Rrltde"nitc IS( 20. f;ary 'ifujik, '"1~)esig1iing the Past: I~ztrllenuulsm tI~e k'r~ttedSztrres (KaltiFilist(jly-A"l1seut11 Exhibitions from Peale more, x 903).
Kroes et al., ects., Cultarui 7i-n~?.wt~xstans Re~*ept~o?t.\-: r 4 7 1 1 ~ ~ t ~dMri",~~ 22 ~:U~IUF*C i'1t Xi:z-c~*ope (Aknsterdam,r ggj), esp. X, 26-27. Much of what k o e s and his cc~lleap~es idcntik as rzlass cnlture in that early phase T prefer to designate as popular ctdtrrre-prilnasily because heir exarnltles York, rygzf, 7, y, 2 5 , 3 2 , Eliatk pro- of xrrass ctzlrtire c4rild TTiest shows, silent notlncensents cotrld be quite variable and films, salojons, and Sullday yapels) are so notably inconsistent over tirrie. radically digcrcnt in nature from what we 28. Leslie Fiedler, ""The kliddle consider mass culture in the last: four ikgainsr Both Ends," E~zl-ourrtei;5 ( h n p s t decades of the twentick cc~~tuty. r g5S), r 6-2 3; klichael Ue~lr~ing,Me35. Susaa h1. Ryan, 'Xcq~~iring L*/?(I?z~c446+t*erz~: lhme ,Yo-i~e~r urzd bfit~kznz~g- Minds: Czommodifiett %ic~\vEedgeand the GItr7.ssI;"ultu?-cam rlmwzw (L,trx~c+on,1987), Positioning of the Reader in l'I-/pcCZ%~-e% 207. ;2lng11zlr?e, X 8~3-19o3," IjAACzS, 2 2 29. i2TarrenI, Susman, Gilturu L Z . ~r,rlI?.s- (1gg7), 211-38; John "Pel~beIand M a r y t o y iriw Z~t~z$im?atloi.~ $+Amencm SDGZ- Ellen Z~rckennan,The ,'I-4agttzl~re IH ~Ilrrere q tn the E~et~flctb C e n r u ~(Xew York, zr-u, rldr.--rjyo (Kew M~rk,~ g y r ) ,clis. 7-9; Joanne Bleyerowitz, "Beyoild the '98+)s 254. 3s. See Janice A. Ractway, Reudl~2gthe Fensinine Mj7sticlue: 4: Reassess~zlentof Kov~.ii~~zce: FVo~fl~re~?, Pizrr-lur.~-hj,and Pqafltr Postwar Mass Cultzlrc, rg~6-1g~8,' )~ Ltrergfure (CXidpeI I G11, I yg 1); John C. JBFI, 79 (?"larch~ 9 9 31475. Caweki, rldzle~zture,i % ~ j ~ . f t eiznd ~ , Rornn~26~: 36. CJfuzlann, Sellzrtg Czlt~rc,2 3, 79. 37. Kacby Peiss, t;be~~.j~ F m u J ~ rStories iks APTm d PopuJur Culrzrre Ri.7;1u.reermr.r: War-kavzg Ffintelr urzd I;el.i~~rr: m Tar%-$1 (Czhicaga, 1976). York ((Philadelf~hia, 31. h n Uaugtas, ""Hgh Is L,o\v9" the-dlenruq A\rex hT7' A f s g ~ ~ z t ~Sept. e, 29, 1996, pp. 19861, XO, I 75 -80; Alicfiiko hkutaxli, "Comrzlon 38. L,ary hiltay, Screeazllg Out the Pui,rt: ofla?ln.:r Clilmre irttzd the nl/l~r~mz cl'hreads,'"hid., Feb, I 6, r 997, p. r 8; Joxz The Br~~l7 IWiener, 'YDec:jnstl~~ctionGoes Pop," Paci-u~*ef?fdus? (Xew York, I 983), xiv-xv, /itre ,%ktznn, April 7, 1997, pp. 43-44; r 6 4 2 33, ancl ch. 6 passim. Kahrtixni, ""Fc>wajrtfStern and the T Jigh39. Jmice Rad~Taj5""The Scandal of hrct-osvs,".?;fl'Jfng~izn~, Jan. 2 8, I 996, p. die Middlebro\v: 'l'hc Book-;--of-the22. Month Cfub, Czfass Fracmre, and Cut32. Josfin Bergcr, """l"kc Cultural Snob: trlral Authoriq," SAQ, 89 (Fall rggs), "Iiighbmw i?CTt,' TI7e 714, 721,726, 73 r; Rubin, 7i"w ,
[email protected] cl'fiere Is *lf~lltllebr-oa* fd'z~Jt~~-e. ch. 3, 5, X 9 5 5 pp. 380-82. -Vattort,SOV. 33. E, E Jacbon to Frederick 1,ewis 40. 'IVarrm James Belasco, Amertcn'~zs A U ~ O L YtoI ~;fifnteI, Z~ A'illen, Feb, 28, 1949, Atlen papers, box 4, orz rhe Rood: FTOPII L,CL!vfU; Davit+ S, Rcynntds, W< Irl/hrt19rcb1945 (Carnbritlge, &lass,, 1979)~ m m S ~"lmcrrci~.: ~KulturitIBzor/~pljy ew r ro; kXeyerc~witz,""Bpnd the Fer~zinine A%)istique,"14.76, 1479. .g;,rk, 199i), 589. qr. See Jeffsey X. Ilyson, ""7fie 34. Richarcf Ohmaan, '?%%ere Did Mass Culture Carsle From? The C:ase of Crban Jungle: Ixms and r4lrrerican SociAlagazines," Bep-kshtr-eRatfew, 16 ( I y81), ety" Unjtub. Ph.D. cliss., Corrlell Cni85-101, the qucttations at go, 91. For a versity, 1999, ch. 2,545-57; nsy italics. 42. J a n ~ c ~ a r e r n o r anti c Batrick sirrrilar cr~lphasisup011 the ltrcsencc of 'Six Artistic Ctlltt~ses," in mass crrlrrrre in dse Pknited States by the BrantIi~~ger, end of the nineteenth century, see Rob Saremore and Krantlinger, eds., ,Jlncler27. Eliot quoted in Stanley Edgar
F Tynsan, 7be i l r ~ f e dV~.ston:A Sictt4y nr rbc Rfetbods ~j*~?i;loder~z Llternty Cr~ttct.~?.~ (rev. ect,: Sew J?jsk, r 9551, 73--7.4.. See also John Garey? 73e I~?te/ie~~ugls und tJ7e df~i.zse~z: I'r-t~ie crtnd Prgudzce ~Ilrrrr~rg the Lrter-&?? IrtttlE~gcrztrz~,r 880-1 yjy (Xew
a12d
1717d ,I/In.cz d'lrltup-e (Ulmmington, because it i s b,lsecl cm a cmcept of ""nzass'" while also being part of hotlrgeclis cfemsxggr), 2 , 43. Scc Pat 'lVeavcr, "Ife Best Stwt EPZ cratie crrlture, XIe is comforrable using a the F--Iotd,cc~:;The GolrIc*~?Eau of. &dlo urzd phrase like '"mass-producecl pc.~pularcul"IIcq*tszoti (Xew h r k , I 994; LEltiarn ture," Sec Swingcwocre4, "I?c .![yth uf&%lir~r Bodcly, tr,$iie.r EImr.cion: /ilre I~zdzd.)~~ crtnd G1Ellrt~r-e(iqtielantic I Iigi~laacis,NJ., I ~777)~ 107-1 3. li;s C~-zrics (t'rbana, x 990). 50. Cleinent Cireenberg, "AvdntM . f ieorge Rirzer; The ,M-Ctotzuldtzsl.ttwz of* ,%o~.zely:An f~zz~~stzgiattoa nzto the Ciarcle and Kitsch," Punz.ra~zRevll-o (Fall C/ta~jgzf~g Cjrar~t-terof'l;"ont~mpor~v &TQL-~[Z/ I 9391, reprinted in C;reentjerg9Art and X;@ (Xewtll~y 13ilrk,CaliS:, rgg3);John I< C"lllru;.e(Bri.ston, rgbr), xa; 13wight AfacL,rrvc, J/I~*I3~nrt/t24: Behtnd the A?-t-!?t:s (New dor-rald, '"Wasscult S: A4itlcult," PU~TWPI York, r 986); AM~rshallFishwick, ecI., Revzm?(Spring 1960)~reprinted in MacRunaId RAte.r B~i~rnz?l~y; Ls the Clnb 72??g:Spom zn Amer- to Dedfth: Pttb/ti- Dr-\*i-ogltse ~rz the Age of* rr43 Sr~ce1945 (Baltimore, I 9891, ch. j, Sbro R2c.czr~e.~::(Kew Yo~rk,r 985); Do~t~glas ""'l"ckvision, Sports, al-rd Alass ridge, Mass,, ;C"li.ztEezfrillieAe.nIletrc (Kew Wxk, x gc)a), ch. r 988), ch. I . 2. 8, Russell Lynes, The T2s~c~rtctke~:f x 8. Ma y End of A~~~ier-t~v?? l~lnoc~~~zt-t~, 336-3 7; Rnndniph Bournc, ""'l& Heart (Sew 'iork, 19$4), 70-7 1,75. g, Stephen EXard~r," "(ilupted by All of the People,'\Vro Repziltlrt; 3 (tujy 3, die f,cading Clubs? Sporting Goods and I grg), 233; ~lincPrewUr-tlzcr, """TheCutthe Sba ping of Leisure, r 860-1 goo,'Yin mral Cricicisn of Randolph Bnurne: %,
e'sabiie Past for hIultictzltztraX Atzzeric*~,'" 2 7. iVaXter Lippmann, Xlrq-i srrzd il4izs-Cc~rzacltgrrRt~qtez* ~j'~il~~~er~c-ni.? Srcldte.~~ tery (New York, 1 9 ~ 4r42. 2 7, )~ no, 2 (1gy7), I--22, 28. Mbee is q~~orecI in Kasaw, Gomg xg, Van IVyck RrootisS "Highbrow Our, 2 3; Barsett Wendell, A Llferccry Flf,rand I,owrhrc)\v" is dic first sectior-r of his to?! Q ~ A T F ~ "(Xew # z c ~ yi>&, ~ I ~ O I )530; , ~1r~evrcu S C~~lt?zg-$Lifl;e (1g J 51, 313y E ~ t dofA11tevri-r7?~ Irznoreizi-e,59, 64. 29. Cook is quntcd in Susa1-rC:IaspeII, reprinted in t3roo>ks, Zbree E+:rnyr an ~1rtfertcu(ISew York, r g34), 15-35. See Rond ru the Ep~pIe(Xew York, I g+), z zj; also Casey xelso~n Blake, Bejoved Ciran~ftillu- P e r q FIolmes Bc~p-tton,"IIemcxrac.)r ritzy: 7 k e Cliclruz-G/Crtttcz.~r~.i" qf aizr1d04~h and Isul>lic"T"asteW in Bny~ito~-r, ,Wore Con/t~i"lerzd:~??*s (Chicago, x g2 71, ch. B O U V ~Van Z ~ I;t"~ick , Bmok.r, I4idldlo Fy-i~slil, tenIPOP"@?~ irnd Lmw -&lr~r"y.fi~-ti (C2hapcl 1 lilt, I gyo). IS, csp. 2 I 8-28. 20. -Michaei Ka~mnen, 73e I,lvcZ;y 30. 'CV C. BrowneliI, ""Ppular CuIilrrs: Cr'rlbcn SeIlics mrd the Tr~rz.fo~~tfcx~mn nlre," LTt*t*tbr~er5. *%lagnzlne,82 (C)ct(her of' I/ult~~riz/ Ct-fttcj~~?? zn tl?e C~ltterdStr3tc.s r 927), 468. (Sew lbrk, x 9g6), 6. 31. Ibid., 468-75, the qucttations at 2 I. Sec Lynes, Ykste~~.raker:r, I 7, 35, 38. 468 and "1.75. Scc also LViIfiarn C, 48, r 17,16j,r7& 177-78; fennifer Scan- BromrneII, Dn~tocrilncD~aznt- on !a~ImerIon, ft~ar~t~-~~lope f,o~?,gtrzgf:Tl~eI4dle.r" zr-u ( S e w York, I 92 7). XIomc .Touuznl, Gerzile~;cmd r/9e A-mfucs of 32. Fred IIobsor-r, ,r/le?li.ken: A L@ C"c,~~.etnrer CgItgw (Xcw JiOrk, xg95); (Xew k r k , 19941, 26446 and passim; Salrr~elfaricl Stcint>csg,K~fiip-n~rxs ~ r zthe Daniel J . Bc)orstin, "Iw Lost World of -7fffi~c~~1 (Btatc~n,X 94131, T 80--8X, ~Wdrkel-phre:Edwnrd H( Bok md tlw Lad8e.r T/~ot%&"c Ilo~?le Jolilrnul (Baton Rouge, I 979). 211, 2 2. Cl'eorge M. Fredrickson, 7%ie 33. Adams is quoted in Jacq~~es f t ~ ~Cd'~vil e r Fer: ,"\ior-rhef.rzJt~teIIetetualk. ccrzd Rarmn, 01' Hg~nsn Freellom (rc)31): the C$-t.n.rqf t/3e L'tttorr ( X e w Xxk, 1965). Philadelphia, rydq), 65, 7" 77; .?l_lc-ora ch. 7, the quotaticin at r r 2 . quctted in hnne Rrop1iy " "That of%)uth 2 3. Ro'tjert: C, Tdl, B / u L - ~ E Cp: ? z 277e ~ "Ibday?': Social Pcrtitics, Cutnrral I2trrafJMIJ~JTI~/ .Yh~u: ?Jz~zetee~zril?-C:etzruq ism, and the Construction of Second Amer-tru (New Ybrl;, x974), 28, 44-45; Gcneraticm Ethniciy in Iletroit, Gcrre Bluestein, Paplo~ee:Folk und Pop 1r.1 r 914-1 943,'' ch. z (unpub, Ph.13. disserAmer-trvrz C"lllrurr:(Amherw, 1994, ch, 4; tation, Czornell t'nib~ersiq~ x 900; Robert "red C;ioia, 2"h lliz~toryofJazz (hTew M~rfi, and Ifcjcn Lynd, M~$riIerown:A ,Citugy 11.1 xgg7), chs. 2-4; f,ewis A, Erenherg, Gnrn~fporu~yAmerzd-ltn Cultgrr: (Xew Prt*z~tg~~' the f2r-eg~g:Bzg Bg~2dJuzzand the York, I y2 g), 2 96, CZLI~UPT (Chicago, 14. See Janice Radwaq; '""The Scandal Rebl~li?q' A~~ierictz./*~? x 998). of ;he Midtilebro\+r: The t3ook-of-the&loath Club, Glass Fractz1re, and Cul2.4- Robert 13arntoa, ""Peasants 7kll Tales: Tl-te Xleaning of Notlzer Goose," n11.al Authoritqs" SAQ, 89 (Fall xgga), in Darnton, The Cx'reb~tCtzt I~.~LI.C.S~CT-~and 704; Stevcn Srzzith, ""IersonaIitics in the Cldbrzr-ot I$i,clo~ Crowd: The Idea of the 3iIassesVin Ilrbev I:p~sodes 171 FT-~I.~cI? i"unericaii Popular Culture," PM:S, ry (Sew h&,1984),62-63. 25, Nasa~-; C I ; O I H ~Out, 2, I 53,236-38. (1994, 2 5 2 . 26. Rcrbert C:, :%Hen, Flnn-lbIe Prem35. Jacob Txitlin and Filomer I\Tooctn c x Barkrsycce and Anrerw~r Gu!tgre hriclge, L@ irnd 1,e~rxcof-*YtuizrtI? ,%er(Czhapel 1-fill, xgc)r), 246; IAaly Map nrm? (Xew %&, 19291, ch. 2.4, "Apostle Srr-eeazr~gOut the P ~ T 2Fe : BE IT/^ OJ'I'VInn~~ of Dcrr~ocrac):'"~c cluotations at 5 2 I, GIEIlt~rnein2X 1l1c A5fanonPt~1uv.e X?ldlds~v 549; Kicfiarcf Rulal-rrf, The Red~sctrz~ery of ilrne~-~c~rz I,,rer-gtur-e: 13renrz.res of C~-zrtcirl (Czhicago, 19831, 1 6 4 2 33,2 36.
T h e , r y oo-r yqo (Cambridge, &lass,, Stephell J, I\2ritfield, The G ~ ~ l t z roj'tbe e G l f W M(zd~ ect.: Kattimose, x 9961, 192. x 967), 68-70. 43. Gilberc Seldes, "keginnings of 36. Jean SheIlq~Krtl>in, "Ife ,"1111kt?zg of ,%hddI~brow CgIt16p-e (eopIefor Sonx~anJaeobs, ed., Czilfurefbr the Mzl? 7ZP[Y ~ natir~najistic ends under~nines derrroc- ~OTIJJ? alg.0' ,Vel/f@ 171 d % l ~ d ~$OL' (Boston, I ygg), 7 r -84. racy. 48. Stanton quoted in Gilbert SeXdes, 38. Gilbert Seildes, ~MafrrltzndFern' ,%Iei!lrir: CI~~Itc?z,qe $0 a Free 'tx'cwk x936), 34-35; S a n R. Havig, Frecl The .Vri *%jaf~Alien Is Rlttfzo (;"owe4(Philadetj>hia,I ygs), Socler), ( r 957: TvZ%s.sbington,D.C., I 9681, 61; J. Fretl ;t2acI2[)onald,Raz't Ezrci~TIwt 63. For asitique of radio far panderiixg Dzal! &dto Progru?~n~rzt~g zn A~ti?rr.tcn$r L@, to die ""losvest r;lstesWanti ignoring its 19"-1990 (Chicago, I y?9),47-48. potential to IeveI trp, see the remark of ~nediacritic John Crosby in L,$, Kov- 6, 39. See "&Marchof hifad Pads," "If;, Dec. 26, r 960, p. I I r ; RolE J4eyersohn 1950% PP' 147-5'7. 49. Gilbert Seldes, ""Notes f i - 6 ~ 1 ~a and Idihu Katz, "Kotes o n a Sanwal Ffistory of Fads," in Eric 1,arrabce and Mey- "fiavcler," SE, 37 (lklarch zo,1gi4), p. 224; ~(Glencoe, Ill. SeMes, 7 X e PubItc i l r t r (New York, xc)~li), essohn, eds,, 3 1 ~ sI,els~re 300. 19581%305-1 540. Ceorge Gallup and SauI Forbes 50. clbffler; The GIEIlt~rne Cdi~-uni"eus, Rae, The 13tblse of IJcnto~*~-~1~y: 7be Public 6a-61; T,pn Spigel, 3 k k c R o m fir TT4 Ilprrjtarz PO//cmd !'TOE It tF.5rk.r fiCherv York, Elpz'zs~annad the Fgrn~lyIdeal m Po~?&?(zr x 940); I,y-res, %-eenrakezi-+x 2 3; Kohert Amer-&-@(Chicago>, 1992)~JW; Jc~hnA, Canmcil, B7he?j 1% Were Good: ?%iefilk Ifranker, A n nz the Age of ~V211.ccsA\fedzn Revzz~~ntl (C:amttridge, hlass., I 9961, 32. (Borrlder; r 68, 5 I. L,eo Bogart, Gcrr~t~er-z~tf CzdJtkl?-c: 41. IVilliarn G. ,jlcLoughtin, BP/{Y .5~~7d&*~ 14%~131s Real Xn-te (Chicago, Tb(1 ~Medtd$yrtc.lnt~~ ? ?t/?e d I^)IJ/?~IC I~tere.17 x95~),2 6 ; Smith, "Personalities in the (Xew York, x 9 ~ ; r ~9.) , 5 2. Ricbard B7estSeilars, "Graceland Crowd," 2 56. 42. Joe Uein, Gurhrzc: A l,# Ri&s 1-Tistoric SL~rirlesin P o p t l i ~ r i ~ , " (Sew York, 1980), 184, 194; Sally Bedell Smith, 1~ ~111f f ~ cGIor?!: The L$? of WiII~nntS. Pu/cy (h-ew k r k , xgr;la), 91;
L~L)CL'~,TL~-~,.~: 1Be lnunjph oj'~1dveflg,strzg m ilrne-~turzCzlkuw (Sew VOsk, ~091j), 73; Gcorgc I I. Douglas, W e ,?:rl~~"t*&fogaztne.r: Fzfi Ears- of I,zterclty RnfeIry urzd Iltgb J f n b xt Ehz-ragFin/; 73e .Vrz %peke,; L fe, Erqu~m,1717d the S~ffar7 .Yet (l iamden, x, See "Em 1-Jarris, ed., Popatfir &lC:onn,, x c ) r ~), x 7; Susan Strassel; ,917rt.?j/b1' ture trz E~?&r?d, c. I ~ C J O - P 850 (New k r k , l;for?(;z~~r~r?freed: The Jf~tkrrtgq'rbe Amenx 905)~esp. ch. x ,""lt~l~tematisix~g Poptl- LW? d%lat:r ,"larker C/Vashingcjn, T?.C., 1ar C:irIturew'; Patricia ~'Lnrferson, 'Ibe 1989),146-"5o. Pr~niredIr71cl.ge crnd rbe 'ru.rs?~$omranon $* 8. Seepben Ilardy, " 'Adopred by All Popul~zr- C~~lturc,I 790-I 860 (Oxford, die L,cai^lingClubs? Sporting Goods and the Shaping of L,eistrre, r 880-1 yo~,'Yin r99r)* Richard Rutsch, ed,, For f i t 1 find P1-oJ;t: 2, Alan S~ringexrood, ;The ;Zl;i(tb of hfg.c\- Czt/tkl?-c(12.tlantic HigIi1ands, S J . , "Ife 7i.arz;Ji,rviutznr of 1,eaurc nzto COI?x 977), C:ollins quoted at: ro4, szimprzon (Philadeiphia, rt)ga), 82-43, 89; 3. Elizabeh and Stuart: Ewen, C;%lun- I.Iarvey Lever-rstein, k'e;*oIutton irt the $'tlte *CLr?rerlc~?2 ~?els$*Destt-ee:,'t(lr;rr:r17~lager:r cnzd the .Yhaplrzg 72r.1!e: TFe TW.lr??$om?ar:~o11 of Arner.1cxl.z COI~JZZO~IJ~~.CC (Kew %sk, l l ~ c(New t York, 19881,ch. 7 . g, See Daniel IIon,.Mlicz, I4znce r!281), 57. 4. See "Firnothy 13. Spears, roo Emf Pr.lcrk.arti urzd iilrr1erz~xrr Sotstul CTI~ZL,~S~I~ nrr the RDLI~: Y%e 7Paz~elarigSgle-t~~~tsn Jn (Chapel E-fill, I 994); Douglas Rusbkaff; L ~ T E ~ Y I MCzdlt~r-e ~I X laven, I 995); 1VIcd~/n'P5rg.f: I-XtdXen Agerzd/~.r182 X""spz~Lr Gerafd Carson, 'lFe Otd fi~122try St~ire CLI/F&?-C~ (Xew h r k , I 9941, 2 7 - q , g , 98. (New York, r 954); 1,aurence A. f ohnson, ""Big Time, ro. Rtoberc \V S~~ycler, (Iz-erthe 5"e"1'~unter and on the Sl1e4:(;irulzr~y Small %me, All ,'iround the "Town: New Storekeep~??g In A~tiera-zcti,I 62 a--r g 2 n (Rut- York Vaudeville in the Early "li%entieth C:entu~," in in~~lxtsch, eft., fir h a urzd land, Vt., r 96 I). 5 . Daniel I.Iorotc.rrz, YPe h f a r ~ l ~ otf 1 ~ 130-31. .5pejrdtrfg: Atriru&~-Ti~~fgrd rhe Co~t.r~pfer I I , Jacks011 Ilearst "A &$~MCPof Sot-lep1 ~ 7~~blfe?-zi~l(~~, 1873-1940 (Bat tirnore, Taste: C:orporate Cultural Filegemony in r 985), esp. I 29-3 L ; Sus" k m r Benson, a J4ass-Cnsurxiptio11Societj5'"n L a r y ""Living on the &Margin:lW(,rk-ing-(:lass Ma y ed., Re~u.ntqgAmer-w: Ctiirlr-llw urzd Ararriages and Family Suurvival Srrategics Polftzcs zn tire rlge qf C01d M I (Chicago, ~ in the C~iiredSpares, 1919-1941~"bin Vie- x 9891, 38-57? esp. 52. See also T3icli Flehtoria cfe C;razia, cd., TI?e Sex of YY~nrgt-: ciige, Szdb~*zi/tltrt':"Ie hfet~riz~t~g nf .Ygie (2endel. and Cov?.\-uetpno~1% lft.@oncnlPer- (London, I 979). x z. Gilbert SeIdes, The Gr-er~rAucItJpe~~tzt~ { B e r h l e ~r 996), 2 r 2 , 6, See Daniel J. Boo~lsrin,'%T;liizIcome ellre (New York, I 950); Charles A. Siepto the Consun~ption Cortxzluniy," mann, RQdzo, E/a*zszor?und .(io~-ze[y(New reprinted Eronl I;"n~~une in Uocrrstin, 73e York, 1950); r-lrchur ,W, Schlcsinger, jr,, Declzne $Rfidt~~~Iz.wr: K$JcLT~~s on Arner-lrfi '%ntcrcainment vs. the f3eopiie,'Yqo?~ev, %delt ( ~ C W b r k , 1969), 20-39; E r k Fcb, G, I 95 I , pp. 36-39. r 3. CEaucie S. Fischer, '"Changes in nrnecfoe ancI Adam Ciopnik, eds., At.fo~Ierw iile crnd Popular C"uikg7-c: Reut1tt~~q.c m 1,eisrrre t%ctirities,x 890-1 940," JSJSl Z, 27 Ilrgh u ~ Lmr d (XmYcjrZ;, I 9701, "5. (Spring 1994, 455-759 $l" 4.tS-59; 7 . EIlen C h b e r Ciamey* The Aclmr~rz Micfidel T,asser, "The C;lorleier: Florenz ~ i the ~ i Ciender-f~~g ~~~ Ziegfeld and the Greatior-r of &c ~'Lrrierizn the Parlor: A % $ t ~ gmnd of Cor~.\-llmer Czilture, r 880s ru I 9 L CJ.~(New can Shc>wgirlanAS, 63 (Summer: 199.$), 'tx"c~rk, x 906); Jaarres R. liriritchell, 4.41-4.8,
14. See IIarowirz, "IBe A1/l~rt.llzly$* Mass Idols," in II,owentfnal, Lrr.e~iltnd?-e, Spelzdtrl5; x 3 2; Janice Radway, ""The Populilr GZrltflw,a d , F " Q ( - E ~ ~(E1igtcxvc1ctd Scandal rltf the Micldlebrosv: "l'1re Book- Ciiffs, X.J., 1961)~r 0 ~ 3 6iVendy ; Wick of-the-5lonth Club, Class Fracture, and Reaves, CeIeh-ig Li;"rzb*~tl~~$ fir Amentz Cultural ~ ' L u t b o r SAQ, i ~ ~ 89 ( Y a l rygs), (Sew IIaven, rggr(). 7 2 9; Stuart Ewen, mr@t~ 4'r.GIOIWI~ZI.Sc 2 5, I,owenrtlal, "Tritr mph of J4ass I?~.cJ-: ildre/~tst31guad r b Sot*tt~l ~ Rooa of the Idols," 116, I r 8, I 2 1-1 2 2 , the quotation G"o?t~-ldmer Guitar-e (Xew York, 1976)~28, at r r j . 26. John Morton f31um, V w~sfOt-KC54; Joan Shelley Rultin, The il/Iak~rllgof cam!Amertcg~iCgltgre Dlar~flg hI~~I11le(I~-rn~ Cgltzrre (Chapel HiII, rygz), to?!: PO/GLLLT World Wnr-I1 (Xew X ~ r k I, g76),()5--5)7. I 00,106,108. 27. lbiif., 98, IO+OI, 107-08; I 5. Ewen, C:llj~tl~~?z.s of* COI~.SL-~OZI.C~~~SJ; 32-33, 37, 41; Tboma"ral&, Tlve Con- Richard PoXenberg, War ap7d Sot-re~:?%re qrdest $'Go/: Rrlsane.cr C~dItul-e,fiatrlzter-c-idl- I/illrc.d Srrrtc:~?rg4x-1947 (Philadelphia, tttrc, mnd the &?I% ?if 118~ ~?l.fM?P~e~~.~~Fi r 972), chs. r, 5, 8; Ihvicf Brinkley, Mli7.sh(Chicago, x 907); Join Jaco1)s Br.uml.?erg, fir'qmt Goes 80 War (Sew kirk, X 988). The Body Prqm: rlrjl Inrzr~atc.Llt-eo~~.' of 2 M. IVarren Susman, "Did Success L~TE~YICLZ?? GIP-ls Ij\;lew Work, r 997). Spoil the Vnitcci Stares? Dual Represellx 6. Horace Kallen, Czaltgre urzd tations in Postwar ikncrica,'Yn ,May, ed., Ctemtucru~171 rbe Lr~tfedSrtzfcs(Sew York, Rec~z.@zrzgA~tericl4.lr:d'lrlt~r-eand Polztrcs m xga& Adanzic, """l'hi~qhfitlisn S e w the 4 q e of G M I.&?; 32-33, See also i"u~zel-icans,~ Ilur-j~ertc; I 69 (Xcltvcr~lbel; "harnify Utopia," L$;,Sr~sl,25, 1git6, 1319. 1934, 684-94 I,ouis Xdaezic, From 58-60, R%rp Lundr (Sew 'iork, rgito), 29. Victoria dc Grazia, " " f i e i t s s of r 7. David E. Xye, Ir710ge lilryorldr: Gor- Purchase: IXnw hnerican Ptrblidty Subporute Ide~zf;~;tle,s :C(II Ge~ter.@/Elecwlt-+ verted the European Poste~;x 920-1 940," in Bashnra Knlger and Phi1 ;tf:lriax~i,eds,, I Kgo-rjjo (C:arnbriclge, hiass., I 9851, Rmokrrzg Fff.@0;.5r (Seattle, rg8g), a 50, 133. 252. I 8, Ew e11, C:llj~tl~z?z.s of* Co~?.s~-zoz~.r?zes~; I 90-92, 206, 208; Paul Ruthedord, The 30. I,izaberh Gohen, "Fr(>~n7bwn ?Jeu*kulu." The A n ofE/ez-fsrct;rz ildz~erpz.czrrg Ccntcr to Shoi?f>ing, IItgiter- Edzwtto~i,Xov. 6, I 985, p. I. 2 7 2. 39. f'rustav X i e b n h "The Minister 47. John M? &urnander,' 7 s C.ur ib~~erican?" T/?eC e ~ i t ~87 ~q, as Marketer: 1,earning from R ~ $ i ~ i e s s ~Uistmctirely " XYf, April 18, 1995, pp. XI, XZQ.See R. (April ryrj), 826-28; '"The Point of 1,alxrenc-e Mosre, S C / ~ ;God: E B ~ilfeer-ttz~t Vie-" Sc*g-th?er"sVIag@zme, 53 ('June KeI~gto~ zn the hfgrketp/i~~-e ofC;irltu?-cr(Sew I g1 3), 788. 'l'tze subtitle of &is piece was "F,xpressing Sational Characteristics.'" York, I ygj), chs. 8-9. 4s. Schiller, Cf~rlt.~~-e, JTZC, 104-05, It 48. ""'1"hcPoint of View," "9, w t been noted h ~ inany has ~ meo~mnonly 49. Ibid. of the pioneers in advertising or puhfic 50, """l'lre Point of Uesv," Scrrt&~zer"s relatior-rs carne from intensely religious, ~Maglztrte,4 (hWoweanberrgs8), 634. See mzd rhe often evangelical, fi~rr-iilybackgreuncis, John C:nrey, 7"h T1~p~teI/eb~lrltl\Brvcc Barton, fix exat~iple,was the scm of Itfo.r~-e.r:PI-/&and Prqudlce Amoftg the Ltta dynallzic Baptist minister. A ctjnsicfer- e u l q I~zreI/~gent.rta,r 880-1 y j g Cl\;'ew able nutt7iiier of "true belies-ers'brere York, I 993). 5 r , David Nasavv, 601779 O U ~T/w : &.re prornine~italnoxrg the new adverdsing Amusz~rtetzfij?lew Tiork, men, They hact simply transferred the ai.2F#/!ofml,/~/tifocus of dieir corlul~icnlencto l~iaterial I gy 3), I g I; "l'hon~asJ. ktocsk, " '1"I-lstory wit11 Idightzlling? " f i e Fr>rgi,tten Film proctue~. M7i(son," in Leila P~ndertand,ctf., Re~y41. See Juhr-r Fiskc, C.'l~de~:rt.~??dt~zg Pop~dgrd'taltur-e ((LoncIon, r 9891, esp. I g3 G E Z T F ~ the PRJZ:Popuinr k5ex of* ~I~$teurrg71 2 4 , x $3; Robert Crtjsman, ""DoReaders (Philadelphia, rt)78),95--1 15. FI~sto~y Make Ateaning?,'?in Ssrsan R. Srrlei~nan 5 2. 1,eslie 1:i~hbeir.r~ Rebels nrz Buhnr;~in: and f nge Crosman, eds,, 'Fbe Reuder m rhe T/?e K&dfcuif of the ,$/ffi$se.%--r y r 1- r y r 7 Ext: E.c.c~y.sM n Azidteni-e aaQ Interprttattorr (Chapcl HiI1, 1g8r), 172-73; Edwarci C;. (Princeton, rylfo), 163-64; Ceorge Lip- I lartmann, The A%i"oaer7;.enr ro .o*1~e~.~c&1nrze ~ ~ ~ t Vork, I 948), csp. chs. sitz, Tbze Pt~.rsxge.r:Co/Ie~-tzre ,"IIe/?io~ynfrd the I e r r f i i g r ~(New ~ I m e r r ~ zPapu/m n Gult~re(h$inneapolis, 6-7; Carof. S. Gmber, ALli~rs g'~7d~Mli.zerva: Wor-la W2r I a12d the L5e.r of the FItagher x ggs), chs, ()-TO. 42. Uavid S. Keynotds, MMt M%zt- Lensriz~tgzn rlrfrerzru(Baton Kotlgc, I 970, nrm?Ir Amef-rr-rj-:A C"u/rurltlRtog~-apbj(Kew x 38-5 r ; George "I". Blakey,
[email protected] OTT the Ilomqfiarrt: A r ~ ~ t ~ rP?-op8'gdndf~t.r ca~? fhr York, 1 ~ 9 53)19, ~ 43. Kent Ladd Stechnesser, 7%ie the 12reitr 544r ( L e x i n g t ~Ky., ~ ~ , I 970). Weecte~-r2 Hero m Fft.no~urzd T,ege?zd {Xor53. Brander ?tilatthe\vs, ""American~ a ~ ~ / r )' D t ze:
ism," Hid~pev:cRound 7;bh/e,I 8 (CIuIy 118971, Bodnar, ect., Botzdr g'Affimorz: d/l~tep-t~nrzs IIIjne 'Fl?elr-fit-p-to~r~crpz (Princetom, 19961, 87 3--74. $4. Stuart Ewcn, ""Adwrtising a11d chs. 8-10; IIaas Borchers, "LCXytl~s 2-sed of Cojnsa~urrSociety," for Propnganda: 'l'he Small 'I~WTIin the"t)cte~t,~~uerzt in Ian rbgus and SutJhatly; ects,, C:,'u/tu?-al Clffice of I-Var Infonx~aliot~E"itrns, Pollrm 171 Corfreerportz'~y~ilmevrcu(Kern. rg&-rg~~j," in 1,ewis 11, Garlson alirf Kevin B, I"ichcnles, eds., rlrfterzr.rlnivrj~a'tx'ctrk, 1989)~89-90. 55. KLlral ,&anAlarling, Geo~xebfi"u,c/r- Era?- d'ultr4v.e lar l h f e ~rzdnl??.oan!(%lamaln'qon Slept Here: Culnrzz~/R ~ * Z Z ~urzd L I / S zoo, Mich,, x996), 161-75, A~tierlc~frGla'ltttw, rX?S--rg86 (Cain00. L,ippmann, Y%e Stnke.r of Dz$nbridge, Mass,, I 9881, r g z 9 3 , 220-2 I, nru1:y (Kew E r k , rgx S), 7x2--75, 77-578; Kobert K, ,jlcrton, hh~.r~* 244 281; Charles B, I..losmer, Jr., """l"kc Pe9wuszon: 2be Early Restoratianists of Colorrial .Eoci@lP!ycbolo$r Hhr Boird Dnve vern. IWitliamsburg," in Sharon "Emmons, ect,, 'tx'ctrk,1946). Pre.ce~v~aon irnd Co~~fer-uutzolt: Proeeedtrzg;s 61, Raporrd Fielding, The L M L ~ $* I-~~ of the .Vor~/?i4mcl"rczt? Jtrrrrjrtlr~onriI Ttme, r g ~ j - r y j r (Sew rliork, 1978); Kegtang1 Coq@re?zce. . . i'iejfte??~b~~ 1972 Afichael Kailunen, IC$y.@zc Cl7arals o f - t k @ ~ p17as!zingon, Dec., r 9761, j 17-1 8; Ron ory: The T I ~ ' E ~ . ~ ~ ~of~ ~Trg~fztto~7 I I L I U Y111I Cu/tgrc (Xew Yc~rl;,I gg r ), ch. Robin, E~fc/&ue?r gfl.f~8e~-z~v: T l ~ Rberor~t. e I$ A~tierrc~fr ~1~~evrcun Po/lt~cfr/Ambarectldre Ajizpond, r 8. 62. Idears,""Ahhatter of'l'aste: Czrjrpor you--r 965 (Princeton, 191)"~ch. 4. in rate Cultural 1Iegc1nor-ry in a Afass5 A. Freitcrick l? Iclepj~et,""'fie Social I,ife,'?n Re~~enr SOCERI Trends $71 rbe C:onsmsrption Societlr," 42; Kotand L'~zttc.$ ,C;t1tte.s (New York I 933), 11, ch. I 9, Afarchand, "V"iims of GlassIess~~css, Pop~illar the q~~atatir~ns at 976-77, 979. 7'fie sup- Quesc for Dominion: X~nerica~i porters of .Sei.x~.c~~znn, a new literary maga- C:rxlture, r 945--1960," in Rcrbert f 1. zine created in 1922, sought a Brenmer and Gary k1;, ReicharcI, ecis., tiistinctively ,'imerican mode of culmral Re.rl~rrptnf: Arner-t~v:Suirep urzd J~7.rzztutznrr~c, and literary cridcisr~l.Sec ,jlichaet h r n - 1g45-1g6o (Coiunibus, C>bitt, I y82), men, 7Fe L~z'eZyAm: Gz/I~eflSeltfesrr~drhe 16390; f3avid Putter; lJeopIe rti/* PEenq: E:~*onm~tl~* Abzin&trrr-e u~2d the A~~rerzrx~j Tr~l~?$6rnfdt1on $C,-w/tclrrrl C,'~-zric.~.~-m ER the Cbllrun-ter(Chicago, 1954, chs, 5 , 6,8,9; kYplrl+en Siccaze.~(n'ew York, X 996),45)-j I. 57. J. H, Ptumh, T17e I>etltP~~ ' t l l%.@ ~ e C:arl L, Becker, Freed0771rtnd Rc.porrsrbt/~<j~ zn the Arnc~tcn12I.t"t["p' of- L$ ( ~ c wlil~rk, (Boston, I 970)~3 I. 5R, John Bocina S, Rer-itgknrg iilme~-zizr: x94~),ch. 5. "Private Econo~nieEnterPftbjic !VIc*rjjo~y. Co~rrr?re??~oruttnrf, and prise," Pn~rvaor~.mt,rrr tbc Yii~etztaetb C e i ~ t z r ~ (Princeton, 191)"~ esp. pt. 3; Freclerick 1,ewis A1len to 1 Gldegarde Alien, Jan. 26, x, See St-rtartFfall, ""Notes on 13econ1936, Alien papers, twx 2, I,C;G4Il; Fr-ances FitzCierald,Arrrerm Kevr.red: II2.r- strutting the Poi-puhr," in inailhacl to9 SL-horrlboobr77 the 7kennerb d'en~zcry Selmnes, ed ,,X"eop/ek If1.n"ury crnd Sociuljst (Boston, I979). TZ1eopy (I,omdon, r98r), 2 27-39; ]?avid 59, Peter C. Rnllins, '"rank Gaprak D, I lall, fVor/& 4I;ti;irtder; Day6 oj'JudgW/&FE Ftgbt Film Series and Our Amer- nretn: Iflqulur Reltgtalrs Relzcftn Etlrh AYczr ica11 I3rear11," "C, 19 (tlrinter rygd), E:r~@d (Xcw h r k * 1989); Ken Emer8r --85; C1ajqc)n R, Koppes anti C;regory son, ho-dghl Stephen Fo.rter cnzd the Rise of U. Black, IlolEy9ood Goe.s to Wkr: Ilozq PO/- A~tiertcdfrPqulgr C;:la'ltz(l~(Xcw York, rrrcs, Projits+~ n lJ1.opltgtr?zdfi d Sbraped F.t*ore/d 997). U.%rr(I .I/Iowe~-((New k r k , 198.;); John 2, John Fiske, C'rz~/c*r:etl1?dz~tg P~p~lgr
GIEII~NT-~: {I,oxrdon, r 989), 27-28, See also r o. E Iasse, Bq11oi;rd Curegor;y, I 33; 1,awrence W I,evine, "The Folklore of C:arctl Krighmzan, W+~ri~zgf)un,ger-oti.c&: Industrial Socicq: 8opular Culture a~id 1trrar71 ;VlcCizrtl~i~(md Her World (San Its tbdiertces," M-JTZ, 97 (December 13ieg0, r992), 149; X3a\x-em- 1989); Robert C. "lid),Bilzckz~zgL$: 277e ~ ~ / !'P? A\rt~7t:tee~?tb-Ce~~t~q ber I yr S), dp-.+r; Brooks, '? Xigbbrow L M I T Z J TS/?m vs. I,clwkrow," ER;1,ipptnann is yuctted in ilrner-t~.~ (Xew York, 1974); Robert C:. Sicholas Jaost, Efip:r qf Edln~ltzon:23e i"tlcn, IIoi"rtb/t* Premrtess: B11r;lescfue and I h l , rgxz-ry 2 0 (Rarre, Mass,, 7967), ilrner-t~~~rz f,'ulttdre (Chapel Tlil l, X g9 E); Robert \K Snyder, 73e hzce -s(ftl7~ Gq: 247. g, See $(>to-essap in X;$;, Dec. 7, Eadevzl/e u~tdPopaklr Cuitzre 1f2 LVeatErk (Xew 'Vrjrk, 1989). , 1936, pp. 50--56; ilkl., 13ec. 14, ~ 9 3 5pp. 24-47; ibid., 34arch. r, 1937, pp. 28-29; r 5. Jchn F. Kasson, ~1~71~4.ct71g t I ~ e11/1~1ibid., ,JIpsif X I , 1949, pp, 99--roz (esp. hon: d'ortq~lb / ~ n dr d tbc Xtrn oft/~e(=r~z~lfttty IVinthrtlp Sargcanthssay ""llI>efenseof ( S e w York, I 978); Nasaw, GO IT^^ Ogt, ch. the f ifigh-Brow," p. 102); ibid., Oct. 10, 7. I 6. Aratleton Powers, ""Uccay from 1949, p. 16; 1,ioncI 'fiifling in "Our Counrlgr and Clur Culture" (a sympo- iViehin: The I~~exritableDoom of the ,'imerican Saloon," kn sium), Pazt1~117rRa*teu*,19 (il4ay X C J z), ~ i Susanna Rasrc~ws 314; Boirnd to Ilou~zd6 llonit, March, I , and Robin Bmuiii, eds., D P - ~ P PBehtv~~I?~: x930, irr Mitzi Berger 1-Tamrit,utzd i%cC~cI~/I~~-6"/~Mt 1folrduy.r (I'rincetron, r g g ~ )88. , De.stre (Chapel l- Iitl, I 997). 2 5. Susan Srrasser; ,Cztz.$i~lii"~o~? I;r~ar=. 3I. Jmice Radway, '""'I"e Scandal of
the 3Ii.ricIdIebmw: Book-of-he-&Ion& egy* ch. 9; iVit1iarn Bndciy? Fdb1e.r 7iEpz~zC:luh, Class Fracn~re, and Gultul.al szon: 7 b e I~zlI~my a d Irf C'r-rrics (t'rbana, ihrr&orir)i9' %\Q, 89 (Fa11 rggo), 713, r ggo), cfi, r r . 7 19, 7"; E,j%cfs, ;2lidt//emw~z,2 71; %-in 40. Pat l&ka.crer, ;The Be.tt S e a m the "Ejfaer, 'ilhC11ttzdrrv Cuns~irtle~r: A St.gdy of Ilot~sc:Ybe fiolticri En,r oJ-Rrtriro u~2dEle~19-2~ n ~YPurnce d tn Amencn (Kern; Jbrk, rt.rtoi-1 (liew York, 1994); Michael Kammen, 777e Ltre&Arts: Gtlbe??,$elde+r the x9n41t>, 47. 7i"n'~?.fbntt11~1a1.t oj*Cidkitr-alG ~ E ~ " ~mC ~rhe .WI 32. L;@, April 26, I 937, p. 52; Jan. 2, x 936, pp. 36-47; Best, ?Jic.ke/ arzd U118tcd ,J"itirli?lrs. (Xew %rk, 1996)~chs, 3 Dlr~reDe~il~te* I 9-2 I ; Ijassc, Bqjlol;ld Cdteand g; Marshall &I.cl,uhan, li'l~dw~~al2dt~zg gory, r gg, 283, 284; l$%rren Susrlzan, din/- ;21et!ta: Tbe Exte~zs-zonqfidfnrr (I 964; Camturc irs Irlr-~or~t:The Ili.cr~z.IjfI-,mtiatzmof hriclgc, Afass., I 9y4), 24.8-49. ~IsnencunSoczer-3,rrr. rbe 7&~e?zt1erJ1 d'mrztrl, qr. Ellen REarteIla alirf Sharon Maz(Xew Yc~rk,19841, x 72, italics in the orig- zarella, ""4ist(>rical Czomparison of ~nal, Children" L2-seof 1,eisure 'Fi~ne,'?n 33. T,jq~ds,,1/f1ddlctro~?m Tra~?*ctt~o;~~, Richard Ruach, ed,, For Ezllz urzd IJrojz: 248, 28s--86, 263. h r the trel~lcnclous "Ife 7k~~~~@~viatzor2 of J,e~.rurc tnto C011ongoing popular appeal of worlzea5 suErprzon (Pkiladelptzia, I ygo), r 86; Iynn Spigef, ,Wake KoorfiJbr llT4 E~Ievlszorrmad clubs, see L$, June 3, 1946, pp. 137-M. For the passi~~iy of radio listenrag, Gross, the P@T~~E& XXenl rn Po.t~cdrr A r ~ ~ e r f ~ ~ t t Erne andA%lmrqy,58, r 08, x 7 3. (C:hicago, rg9"), x r 2, x 34; Eduardcr 34. L,eo~~ard Zllattin, 7be (I;?-entA~tierrr-- Cialeano, "LULthe iVc~rld'sa Ball," 'Be "Vgttmz,:4ug. rolr7, 1998, p. qr; Kichard :r rr1111 Br-ottdca~t:~1 Glflebrarzo~fof R~rt~fzo Sennett, Ybe ];;al of I)lrb/~clt%n (Kcw fioi&n Age (New X~rk,I gy71, I 5, 27-28, cl'fie m,lri quoted was Robert E. Lee, the York, x 9771, 283-84; Robert I lughes, Erk partner of Jerome Lawrence for more "JF%y WTatch It, tILnjway?" &an Gfty years of writing Eor raciio a11d Revzeu?q'Book.r, Feb. r 6, r 995, p. 37. Rroactway, For the contrasting perspec42. idwine, fftgl?bvu/l,owbr~u,x 8y; ~ d ?tlZer~-/~gats, tive, however, sec iri.: 'l"errencc C;~rdo~r, IVilfiarn L,eacIi, f ~ ofDe.str-e: ;Var:rhtzlt ,l.fttl,~lhi~r~: X;:.ct~dpetrrto Lridet--- Pm~ev,n'~?d the Klse of l3 N e z ~~Irne~~cur? Lit/t@rC Ybrk, 19931, 199-200; C;ilhert (Sew J7or.k, I 9 9 ~ 184, ) ~ r 87. ~~ltnltlrzg 35. &rajtin, (;re& iil~r~erncttn Br-otrka~~, Sefdes, Ibe Elm 4' the LGUJT (kfntep-ltx, 292-93. ry2y-ry32) (Boston, rt)33),2~7-98. 36. I.Iilrrics, KRdto Yoaccs: A~tiera-zrx~r 43. iMdous I.Iaulcy, '"fie Outtook for Rrocjrd~'~d.n~~?,g, 1925 - ~ 9 ~ 2chs, , 2,6, 7; L@, ,'imerican C:uhre: Some Reflections in a Alachinc ilge," I l ~ z r p t ~ l r I, g5 (h~igust Afarcfi 7 , I 938, pp. 33-36. 37. ,hctrew Bergr~z~la,bfi5're tn rbe r 927), 268. ;21orlry: DL;()~-~.~.I-EO~~ 13112~$"1~6t Irf Fjlt-7;1.r M . Spigel, ,$/fake Roanr Jir rW (h'ew k r k , r qf I); 1,aurence Bergreen, r 14-15; Gilkert Seildes, "The Gershwin Ydmesi4get:A l,$ (Xew E&, r 984},xo6, C:ase," Krqrdrre, 2 (October 19341%108; 284-85, italics in the original. Seldes, "Mtrsician, Sparc "%at "Ii~nc," 38. Alan 1 favig, f i e d A1ic~zS Ra~fzlo Xi:.~;q~z~-e~ 26 Vebruay 1y46), 83; Eren~orjrer(;; (Philadelphia, I ygo), 2 r 3; Irrthur herg, ,$wzl;zgrn9the Dretz??r, 91, 239. For 31. SchXesinger, Jr., ""fnunainnzent vs. Erenbergk sscong eznphasis trpon the the People," Repo~^re~.; Feb. 6,195 x, p. 36. participatory nature of swir-tg band dudi39. hfclvin Paeick E15 73, Atlztm- enccs during the fnrcr 1930s~see pp. 36, t~res-ofilngos '~"iilrrdy: lotsz[~l fft.@o'~y of 4647. irn Amertcgl2 I""henametzon (Sew Xtrk, 45. L$, May 16, 1949, pp. 97-106; rggr), ch. ro; IIavig, Alien's ktdlo Cm- AliIea Tate, 'T11e Man (25 1,ecrers in the
3lodern iVorld,'?n Xte, Iicrqs oj' hzrr Spam nrr. A.pr,ep.lcn Sznre 1945 (BaXeitnore, I>ecz/ie.f(C:hicago, x 968), 3; fhright Ahc- x gRg); EX, F: M(~rhuuse, " "z~erican dor-rald, "Masscult & ,Midcult,* Agnnlst Atrr-ombilesand 14G,rkers9 D r e a ~ ~ ~ s , " the ilrne~-tc~zn Gr~ktn(Kew York, r 962), 6 I. So~*~olog~mL R ~ z ~ r n3 :r ( i l ~ g r ~98~3)>t 41 I , 46. "Ibffl'ner, "I%?e CLI~F&?-~~ Cot?szt?iier:s, $3. Sonxian Cot~sins,Presewt 7hrz~e: r o; llerbert J. Cans, Populnr and FXzgI? An Arpfertciz??IId~ror?Ogy.crjpondencet ~ o x4, IMIFSL-. 2. L$, April, 11, 1949, pp. 99-102. Jtllaiu,~ou~~zul, July 18, I 998, p. I. 50. Ru bin, The L14~ak~7zg of AP~ddIeI~rou' For IqnesS response to the charge that C~~ltut-c>, 269; Laurcncc Bergrc.cn, .;7rar,rt.s he stoic '5niddlehro\v" &cm \?irginia Agee: R L# (New York, 1984, 284-85; iVoolf, see his letter to 3lt.s. Rennsen Riehard M7ightnianF~IX and "1: J. Jackson Johnson, May xr, 1949, T,pes papels, L,ears, cds., Tile ~ I C / ~ E I ? - Lff " COR.CZ~~"I~~~JOE: hax 4*BZSL. C~-tttrtili E.rs~leS Schickcl, The Dlslrey J4~r.rzorr:Tl?e L@, oj" I;l.~/lrDrsjzqy ~Masi~&e\v York, I 958); 35arshall Ernu, Art a d Cmt~~ttn-ce A%cl,dian, U~?rkr:mndtr~g Jfedzu: 23e (rev, ed.: Xcw York, I 985'); Sccvcn 'lliattrs, fiirreltstarzs $* AMir??(x 964: Cambridge, 7'he itdagzc k"~~zgdiot7i": I&*u/r l)tnreczllc.s-: Amer-trv m WP-crnd Pem, Sadonal Cttaracter, x 815-1 860," $411, 1941---."$360(Xew Yc~rk, I 988); P@?TWPI 53 (Ytarcfi 1967). 701. 27. Clavid S, Rept>lds, bfi"ult bfi717zrRevfmr, 19 (&;lay to October I pjz), pas:rd~~fer-~c~b: rl Gult~r-al B z o ~ ~ p h(Xcw -y sir-tl; Hilton Kral-tler, "Cy~tliia Ozick's Farewell to 7'. S. Eliot-and f Iigh Cul- York, 1995)~186, 193; Cart Bnrfe, ii""Fe ture," .%%U* Cr~rer-ton,8 (Febnraty xc)go), Amer-trvrz Igctzrm: il6.ii.p~ d%leerrrrgof' rhe 5-9; K'->anwr,"The Vamedoe Debacle: hfmd (NCUYc~rk,I 956); Nick Sal\-acorc, %OMAS Xe-47 'X,owr5'" ii>id., 9 (Deceln- We All Got Eft.eo~y:7%e,%lrntoryRooks 4 her ~ggo),5-8. A~tio.s WebI~cr(New York, I 996), 38-39; 21. See l,eslie Fiecller, 1Be &turn $* Ken Exnerson, Dao-lrdb! Szephr~tFo~-tcr?the E~zzsbt~~g ilmerzt+rirrzF e w )ic)rk, x 9681, a12d the Rt~eofAme~-zc(tnPopulnr C"ulrl4re 15; I.Iayden ?'t%ite9 '5tmcturaiism and (Xew Ybrk, 1997). 2 8, R ~ " ) ~ R ot.t"itlt ~ c ~ sFM~lemarz , lc AmerPopular C:rxltt~re,"JPC:, 7 (Spring 1974, zrx, 106, 162, S I I ~313, 345. It seerrls 77 521. Robert f>arnton, The 6mr Cnr symptomaic that. Charles Sanders Peircc, the highly cerebral "fc>~~~~dcr" of ;21/f.r5xkt~e mzd 01/7cprF&i.ro(Ies+171 F;'~'~erz~*h <url~!f f i . @ u ~(New York, r g&$), 3-4, r 7; Prag~natism,would publis11 "The FixaRcrbert Darn ton, The For-l~fdclicrr Re.@- tion of Belief""in Popular Sclenc.e d%lmrtb&, Sei'Iet:~of Prtu-Rn%olgtzo?~a,y I;1-@12&~(Xew I 2 (hTc~venll-ter I 8n), I- I 5, 2 9 , Paul DiLMaggirr,"Cultural ErttreYork, rgg& 203; Donna "T. &hdrewr5 ""Popular C:ufture and I~uI>licIlcbace: ~weneurshi~~in Nineteenth-Centuty Idondon, 1780," H~i"z.rforlJotlt~znl, jg B o s m , ' V n Cha~idra Mukerji and (ftrne r 996), 405-2 3. Michdet Sehtxdson, eds,, Retiltznkrrzg Popu2 3. Peter C'. lIoIzcndafil, B z I ~ / ~irz P 'lrar I ~ Czrltttre: d ' o n z m f p o r - ~X"e~rpemz.e~~ ~a "VazrkdIJre~-ltrgre:'IBc Ca.re of C;e~eju12pi, Cglm~nIS r ~ d ~(Berketey, es x gc)r), 379. 18io-1870 (Ithaca, 1g8y), csp. ch. 9; Ex~-l~r;rzorrs: 30. Neil I'iarris, manccin tkrrifeI 9XLt)rebs. g, 1025. See George Seilernent, ""7'fie vifle," :'&$CS, 2 2 (1997)~203, 705; Susan Arccting of Elite xxd l3rti-pu1ar,Minds at A%. Rj~an,"Acquiring -Minds: Commr~octihed Knowledge and the lfosicioning of Cambridge, Xew E~rgIand,I 63 3-164 5," IWiZlf), q r @nwary 1984)~3 2-48; Jarnes the Reader in d%fb.Clt~re 3- s%lwgac:tnrz, I~xvestigation of the I 893-1 903," ibid., 2 2 3;Charles 'lV Stein, I.I. I-lurson, L4ibl Inarticulate: Philadelpl~ia'stfqiite Oaks9" ed,, .4mer-tc@~z Eu~It~vstle us Sees ky It-FCOWte??~~>artJrre.s i$T-M(;I,28 ganuary 1y71), 3-2 5. (Kew Ycxk, I 9841, 68--77, 26. James T. Flemer, 134~ivevrrk:c 37*75.
33. Karal ,hnJ4arling, Geo~xeFfikcIr- I Iirschfcld, See iVencIy MGck Reaves, ln'qon Slept Here: Colo~zr&lR~*ZZ~LI/S urzd CeIebril-y Cc18-zt.ri.irllw nr ilrne~-tc~z(New A~aierlc~frGla'ltttw, I 876-1986 (Cain- IIaven, r 9981, 165, r 70. 40. Reaves, CeleIr19 Cc~rt~z~ture m tlritlge, Mass., 19881, 2x5; Richard E Bach, "?liItuscurr~sand d i e Factory: Ailak- A~aierrcu,I 08, I z 0 - 2 I, I*. ing the CFaleries ll'orli far the Art qr. Janzes I,incoln Collier, Bemcv Ic>puIar JPonald, l h n k E~ki-h' r h r Dtul!, (IgRt;), 30. 04. Jiln Coffins, L'r(tt-orjtr?iorrCufrzdrrn: I r ; Spigell ""Iig11 C:ulture in I,ow Popzd;~~ Cltitlire 1t171d Pa~t-iI4o~fe1111mz we147 Places," 3 14, 3B,Michaef Kiznmelitnan, 'tx'ctrk, xg89); Sick Ifeffcrnan, ""Clulture at: '"oy Lichtcnsteirr, Pop htkastcl; Dics at &irrdernif~.S Enct: Daniel BeIX ancI Fredric 7 3 , " h T 9 S e t x ' . 30,1.997,pp.Ar,B7. Jameson," in T3arid hfnrray, ed., ilmep-l69, I3wighd?t"lacdonaid, "%Itasscult & crnn C;"u/tu?-aiCratz1.s (Exeter, U.K,, I ygi), A%idculr," in Mactfor-raic4, Agdztrzst the Grml (New Ybrk, r gbz), 59. 287; Stcven IIenry J4adoff, ect., Pop /ill?: ilmer-t~-(~rz 7s. Grecni[rerg- '"""lc Plight of Orrr A Ca'nt~crllflft.~ory(BcrLIey, 1yg7), pt. 2; G a y G a e l s , ed., Ibe M"o-k of ~ i l ~ t ( y Cultrrre: Ii~dusuiafismand Class J40l3iXWgp-l~d(Seanle, x 989); Carter Ratcliff7 ity," in Podhoretz, ed., 7 % C"c,nrmetzro~y Ant& EVarhol (Xcw York, I 983); Kynastctn Retzdeu; 43 7 . Mtfifiine, ed., Andy U/&rl~ol: A Retrospec71. ? i d Friend, """I"heCase for Midzod (-%larch 2, rygz), tzzr (Sew b r k ? 19891, 25-37; Lynnc cilehrowtw 'R, Cnoke, "T'fie Indepencient Croup: 24-2 7, the chart on 26. 7 2 . '19d Friend, Joan Shellq~Krtl>in, British and Alrrerican Pop Art," kin Kirk 'L"arnec1oe ancjf Adam Ciopnik, ecis., L%IuLI- and I,awrmce W I,evine, ""IPraise of erw crnd Popular- Czllture: Reutft~tg*ri'rz Middlet>rojw," Ume Reutim 53 (Septentllrgh iznd L r i (New licrrk, rygs), her 1992)~77-83, the cliarr on 83. r gz-z r d. 73. Friend, ""Case for MidCff~brow~" 05. John Frosv, Cult~ririStudle.r :.salrd 2492574. Ilsict., 24. For letters to the editor G1Elit!4rnd fd~ifde (Oxford, I ygg), 23; G. A'ilbert Ruesga, ""Singing and T3alicing in in response to Friend5 engaging essay, die Baser M m c r : L'L I4ea far die Derzloc- see NR, 206 (1CiXarch 30, 1.992))p. 4. ratixation of 'fiste," JPC, 2 9 (Sprirrg 75. Friend, ""Case fcx hfiddlebro~~" 19961, 117-35; i%riIfred ;L!. ~t%cClay, 24-2 5, 1% new British ~nagazinc,the ,%$odd "'Plskirzg CZur Questions," h~refie~*~dtri 191.r- e m Keiirnc foundeci in 1991, pro~noted itself as ""LWculture for higlibrosvs." tory .%k~.c/c~e~;; x 8 (Xp$), x 3. 66. 'The Senior IVrangler, ""Iigh76. 'iilaiiixnir Xat,oko~- bad cmXy BSOW:4nxieties," T11e Cefltu~y,87 (April seathing coniments about the coarse and 1914, 970; IVilIiarn Prichard Eaton, ~hor-ry,wIiich he disrnisscd as po-cblosr; a T h e Flighbrom-Hunte~s: :$R hn-rusiing Rr~ssian word c(~nipnl.able to ktcs~*b, Phase of Social Life in S e w Mtrl*," 114ctn- Incaning pIiiilstine vulgariy. k t hc liked sey5 i14ngnz2zne, M Uanuaq 191I), ,.tmerican p p culn~re,especially comic 527-3" esp. 527-28, See afso Matttiew strips and films. Sehneiro%; TFe Dp-etrtn~4' cr Arm .Ym,&f 77. Wn.chlttgtoicl Star ""Conlnzent" secorclef": Popg/ar *l~t8guz~r~esl?{ d4~ttcrlca tion, Oct. 24, 1976, sec, Fi, pp. X ,4; repritzted in IViIcorr Quirt-trr-ly,I (Clccr>bel(Sew k r k , I g g ~ ) . r g76), I 58-60, 67. 'WUoII fbrtraies of Peoltle I\%o Ucse1z.e Better," bntty I;atr; 33 Uanuary r gjo), p. 45; Reaves, Celebnp Cgrirarzcre m Amencl!, x58; Alan T-big, Frerl Ailer74 I. Kobelr LViebe, ,Yey'-Rule: A Czd&dto Ca'ome(y (Philadelphia, 19901, r 91, 68, Robert \X Sriydet; "'Big 'I'in-re, turl~! fXj.n"or).~ oj' /lefencun D~rtut.r~cj Srrzall 'l'irrie, M1Around the 'Ibwrn: New (Chicago, I ygs), H. York ?";JludeviIle in the EarIy 7ie1iriet.b 2. Davict S. Kept>lds, Wafr Mtn~lrn S
~1~~evrcu: R d'ir?ltu~T( Brograp)!~(X-ew York, atricdi 34annger Syf\rester f301i, Ifis ,411diences, ancl the !~aude~~illeIndustry, 1905)~350,35142. 3. Jchn 'Iisr~sich,A Ciclttcrc4 l$?zdefiwl:. r 890-1 920," fiditcirl H1.ct09 I;Zevre?ti, 66 Amer-t~-@n Calridw uad Polztit~ln tbe Gtllied (Fall 199l;), 4 0 - - ~ , 4 8 - ~ 92-5 , 5 3,64* m Age (Stanford, I 971). / 3. 4, Katl~ieen D. ;tkCar&y, 14inmen"s r 0. Gabler, An Er71plr-e of* Thew Calmre: ilngef-tfz.(lrrI)r!~rlunrbro@crnd '4-t, Oc~r:Noz? the j!n~vI~zael~tcrdlla/{~~mand r 830-1930 (Chicago, xgyr); ilil~nDoug- CXe\v York, 1988); Steven Smith, ""Prlas, 771e FCF!?EII~Z"N(~~CO?? ofAmerzt-crn C@/ruw sonalitics in the Crowd: 'The Idea of the (Xew York, 1gy7); David J. Pivar, ivurtq "MasswYitl r'lmerican Pr,pular C:utt~re,~ GT-USX~C: Se;tlrm~nI;2lorg/jty trnd Socl@/Cm- F"AA(J.S,It) (Igg~),), 2 54. m l , 1868-1900 @Vestpt)rt,Conn., I 973). I I . Waiter Lippnlann, Pztif/z~-Oi~mrorr 5 . ,!dfen R I>arris, Ar;rzerzrg~zIler-erne: (Xew York, I 92 z), 3I , I 2 j;see atso 362. Tl,; I.$i inzd I.ege!nzd offtar Addar~ir(New x 2. James Gill~ert,*.il cycle ofllzrt.p-a,qe: York, 1973)~chs. 6, I I; E-iclcn Lefiowitz ~1~~evrcu'r Rennzon to d7e Jz~ce~zlleDeltszF ilorowitz, Tbe Pozrer a d l3[l.r~-tonof >l, qrde~~tm t/7e r g f o s (Xew York, 1.986)~ C ; " n q 777o~~1ns (Sew York I g94); Susan I 14-1 5; Stuat-~ Ewer-r, PR! A b?o~-t~lJ$r.ctary Eliza beck I,yri~an,La
