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The words Mark Twain, or Samuel Clemens (however one prefers to
refer to him), spoke in memory of his late wife demonstrate the
importance to him of childhood, which can certainly be seen in
so many of his lauded works. He said that she was “both girl and
woman” when he met her; these qualities, partly exhibited in her
“free laugh,” extended to the very last days of her life. The
glory days of childhood would always be important to the great
American humorist. A pathos is added to this observation when
one learns of the tragedies surrounding the children in the
author’s life.
The first child born to Twain and his wife, Olivia, was a
premature son, Langdon. His survival at birth was dubious, yet
he continued on until dying of diphtheria in 1872. Twain blamed
himself for the child’s death, as he had taken him out for a
ride in the cold air. Twain’s action did not cause Langdon’s
death, but the guilt was still unavoidable. Three daughters,
Susy, Jean and Clara, were born to the couple. Susy and Jean
predeceased their father; he was only outlived by Clara.
Twain is easily the creator of literature’s best-loved children.
His mischievous Tom Sawyer and simple, good-hearted Huckleberry
Finn have defined the epitome of boyhood for generations. When
Americans look at boys playing, there must be some part, albeit
at times subtle and subconscious, that compares them with the
adventures of these two marvelous creations. Although Twain
purports that the characters in The
Adventures of Tom Sawyer were based
on his own childhood acquaintances, perhaps there is more to the
story. If the casual reader can feel the nostalgia and innocent
beauty of this novel and its sequel,
Huckleberry Finn,
the writer must have felt its impact even more deeply. It is the
very nature of writing that the creator feels and sees his
characters. On some level, Twain must have thought of his own
son pulling the famous whitewashing trick. Aunt Polly could not
tolerate Tom’s tricks, but Sam Clemens would have given much to
see his own son carry it out.
Belief in the purity of childhood is evident as Twain looks back
at Huck Finn. This bad seed was variously identified as Frank
Finn, the son of Hannibal, Missouri’s town drunk, and as Tom
Blankenship, the boy with whom no decent child was allowed to
associate. Twain identifies both as having the proverbial “heart
of gold” and as having gone on in life to be justices of the
peace. Perhaps he mixed up the name. Either way, the concept was
that there was no truly bad boy. Huck, Frank and Tom were
denigrated by adults who just did not understand them. The adult
Clemens did not fall into this trap.
His devotion to his children was evident in how touched he was
that his pig-tailed daughter Susy took on the task of writing
his biography. This endeavor touched Twain as being the highest
compliment he had ever experienced from any source. Her family
life was happy, and she described Twain with the glowing eye of
an idealizing young daughter. He was funny, intelligent, and
attractive, although she admitted to his temper. This last
condescension to his lack of perfection might well have been due
to the off-color vocabulary to which she and her sisters heard
him give vent when he thought himself safe from prying ears.
Twain describes his wife editing his work while he and the
children argued about her deletions. When Susy’s and Twain’s
accounts are considered together, they lead to a feeling of any
idyllic time.
The size of Twain’s heart for children may be gauged by his 1895
encounter with a fourteen year old Helen Keller. He was so
impressed by her natural talents that he persuaded a friend to
set up a scholarship fund. She had passed the test for Radcliffe
but could not afford the tuition. Some have made it seem that he
did not know how to relate to children who had grown into
adulthood. This is certainly not the case. His friendship with
Helen Keller remained even as this remarkable girl matured.
The happy time of familial joy was not to last. Susy died in
1896 at the age of 23, while Twain, his wife and Clara were
abroad. He was not able to be at his child’s burial. Twain’s
writings after this time take on a decidedly more somber tone.
Olivia died in 1904. Having endured so much, many men would have
wallowed in self-pity and taken to reclusiveness. Twain,
however, enjoyed the company of children and they were
frequently children to be seen at his New York house. Shortly
before Twain left this plane, he endured the death of his
twenty-nine year old daughter Jean, who had long suffered from
epilepsy (although various aspects of her life indicate there
was some deeper problem at work).
Twain seems to have been estranged
from his one surviving child, Clara. She married the Russian
pianist Ossip Gabriolowitch. Her father, the man who seemed to
understand children so well, died before the birth of his only
grandchild.
Clara died in 1962 and Nina Clemens Gabrilowitch, the grandchild
Twain never saw, died with alcohol and pills in her room in
1966. This is part of the tragedy of Twain’s life: that his only
granddaughter did not inherit the purity of her grandfather’s
wit or her grandmother’s grandmother’s eternal girlish
qualities. These traits were of a lost generation and died with
Twain.
"Twain and
Children -- Some Thoughts" by Allan Azouz
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