Hear Anaïs Nin Read From Her Celebrated Diary: A 60-Minute Vintage Recording (1966)

Image by George Leite, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

At one time, writer Anaïs Nin’s rep­u­ta­tion large­ly rest­ed on her pas­sion­ate, long-term love affair with nov­el­ist Hen­ry Miller, whom she also finan­cial­ly sup­port­ed while he wrote his best-known nov­els and became, writes Sady Doyle, a “dar­ling of the avant-garde.” Nin her­self was a mar­gin­al­ized, “unfash­ion­able” writer, whose “frank por­tray­als of ille­gal abor­tions, extra­mar­i­tal affairs and incest” brought such crit­i­cal oppro­bri­um down on her that “by 1954, Nin believed the entire pub­lish­ing indus­try saw her as a joke.” She had good rea­son to think so.

Miller’s noto­ri­ous­ly cen­sored books won him cult lit­er­ary sta­tus, and inspired the Beats, Nor­man Mail­er, Philip Roth, and many more hedo­nis­tic male writ­ers seek­ing to turn their lives into art. Nin’s equal­ly explic­it work was met, she lament­ed, “with indif­fer­ence, with insults.” Crit­ics either ignored her nov­els, sev­er­al of them self-pub­lished, or dis­missed them as vul­gar, art­less, and worse. One head­line, Doyle notes, called Nin “a mon­ster of self-cen­tered­ness whose artis­tic pre­ten­tions now seem grotesque.”

All of that changed when Nin pub­lished the first vol­ume of her diary in 1966. There­after, she achieved glob­al fame as a fem­i­nist icon, and the next ten years saw the pub­li­ca­tion of an addi­tion­al six vol­umes of her jour­nals, then sev­er­al more excerpts after her death in 1977. Most notably, Hen­ry and June appeared in 1986 (sub­se­quent­ly made into a film by Philip Kauf­man), a book which—in con­junc­tion with the pub­li­ca­tion of her and Miller’s let­ters the fol­low­ing year—fur­ther added to the mythol­o­gy of the two pas­sion­ate­ly erot­ic writ­ers.

Nin had kept her diaries reli­gious­ly since age 11, and has become known as “modernity’s most pro­lif­ic and per­cep­tive diarist,” writes Maria Popo­va, a dis­tinc­tion that has led to a tremen­dous resur­gence in pop cul­ture pop­u­lar­i­ty in our time, when well-craft­ed self-rev­e­la­tion is de rigeur for artists, activists, online per­son­al­i­ties, and aspi­rants of all kinds. Hen­ry Miller is now “a mar­gin­al­ized and large­ly for­got­ten Amer­i­can writer” (or so claims his biog­ra­ph­er Arthur Hoyle), and Nin has become a “patron saint of social media,” writes Doyle, a “pro­to-Lena-Dun­ham.” Pithy quo­ta­tions from her diaries—properly cred­it­ed or not—constantly cir­cu­late on Tum­blr, Face­book, and Twit­ter.

A new gen­er­a­tion just dis­cov­er­ing Anaïs Nin can access her work in any num­ber of ways—from hip, meme-heavy Tum­blr accounts like Fuck Yeah Anais Nin to more for­mal online venues like the Anais Nin Blog, which aggre­gates biogra­phies, pod­casts, schol­ar­ship, bib­li­ogra­phies, con­tro­ver­sies, and any­thing else one might want to know about the author. Anaïs Nin fans can also hear the author her­self read from her famous diary in the audio here. At the top of the post, hear Nin’s read­ing, record­ed in ’66, the year of the first volume’s pub­li­ca­tion. The com­plete record­ing runs about 60 min­utes.

After the acclaim of Nin’s diaries, and the celebri­ty she enjoyed in her last decade, her rep­u­ta­tion once again suf­fered, posthu­mous­ly, as biog­ra­phers and crit­ics sav­aged her life and work in moral­is­tic tor­rents of what would today be called “slut-sham­ing.” But Nin is now once again right­ly revered as a writer ful­ly ded­i­cat­ed to the art, no mat­ter the recep­tion or the audi­ence. The aston­ish­ing stream of words that flowed from her, record­ing every detail of her expe­ri­ences, “seems noth­ing less than phe­nom­e­nal,” wrote Noel Young of Nin’s non­stop let­ter writ­ing. When it came to the detailed, insight­ful, and acute­ly philo­soph­i­cal record­ing of her life, “the act of writ­ing may have even sur­passed the act of liv­ing.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Simone de Beau­voir Explains “Why I’m a Fem­i­nist” in a Rare TV Inter­view (1975)

Hen­ry Miller Makes a List of “The 100 Books That Influ­enced Me Most”

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

The British Library Digitizes 300 Literary Treasures from 20th Century Authors: Virginia Woolf, T.S. Eliot, James Joyce & More

First Edition Ulysses

As a young col­lege stu­dent, I spent hours wan­der­ing through my university’s library, look­ing in a state of awe at the num­ber of books con­tained there­in by writ­ers whose names I knew or who seemed vague­ly famil­iar, and by hun­dreds, thou­sands, more I’d nev­er heard of. Always con­tent to immerse myself in seclud­ed cor­ners for days on end with a good book, I could­n’t have felt more at home.

The inter­net was in its infan­cy, and my online life at the time con­sist­ed of awk­ward, plain-text emails sent once or twice a week and the occa­sion­al clunky, slow-load­ing web­site, promis­ing much but deliv­er­ing lit­tle. Excitable futur­ists made extrav­a­gant pre­dic­tions about how hyper­text and inter­ac­tiv­i­ty would rev­o­lu­tion­ize the book. These seemed like intrigu­ing but unnec­es­sary solu­tions in search of a prob­lem.

To the book­ish, the book is a per­fect­ed tech­nol­o­gy that can­not be improved upon except by the pub­lish­ing of more books. While inter­ac­tive texts—with linked anno­ta­tions, biogra­phies, his­tor­i­cal pre­cis, crit­i­cal essays, and the like—have much enhanced life for stu­dents, they have not in any way improved upon the sim­ple act of read­ing for plea­sure and edification—an activ­i­ty, wrote Vir­ginia Woolf, requir­ing noth­ing more than “the rarest qual­i­ties of imag­i­na­tion, insight, and judg­ment.”

Though Woolf would like­ly have been unim­pressed with all that talk of hyper­tex­tu­al inno­va­tion, I imag­ine she would have mar­veled at the online world for offer­ing some­thing to the read­er we have nev­er had until the past cou­ple decades: free and instant access to thou­sands of books, from lit­er­ary clas­sics to biogra­phies to his­to­ries to poetry—all gen­res upon which Woolf offered advice about how to read on their own terms. With­out the anx­ious admis­sions process and cost­ly tuition, any­one with a com­put­er now has access to a sig­nif­i­cant por­tion of the aver­age col­lege library.

And now any­one with a com­put­er has access to a sig­nif­i­cant por­tion of the British Library’s rare col­lec­tions as well, thanks to the ven­er­a­ble institution’s new online col­lec­tion: “Dis­cov­er­ing Lit­er­a­ture: 20th Cen­tu­ry.”

orwell rejection

Read­ers of our site will know of Open Culture’s affin­i­ty for 20th cen­tu­ry mod­ernist lit­er­a­ture, like that of Vir­ginia Woolf, and for the dystopi­an fic­tion of George Orwell. These authors and greats of more recent vin­tage are all well-rep­re­sent­ed in the British Library col­lec­tion. You’ll find such trea­sures as a scanned first edi­tion of James Joyce’s Ulysses, first Amer­i­can edi­tion of Antho­ny Burgess’ A Clock­work Orange, and first edi­tion of Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own. These are just a few of the clas­sic nov­els avail­able in the “over 300 trea­sures” of the col­lec­tion, writes the British Library.

woolf cover

The online library offers a par­adise for read­ers, cer­tain­ly. And also a heav­en for schol­ars. Includ­ed among the rare first edi­tions and crit­i­cal essays and inter­views on the site’s main page are “online for the first time… lit­er­ary drafts… note­books, let­ters, diaries, news­pa­pers and pho­tographs from Vir­ginia Woolf, Ted Hugh­es, Angela Carter and Hanif Kureishi among oth­ers.”

Some incred­i­ble high­lights include:

And as if all this—and so many more 20th cen­tu­ry lit­er­ary treasures—weren’t enough, the col­lec­tion also tucks in some won­der­ful arti­facts from pre­vi­ous eras, such as a col­lec­tion of man­u­script poems by John Keats, includ­ing the Odes and Robert Burton’s ency­clo­pe­dic 1628 study of depres­sion, The Anato­my of Melan­choly.

“Until now,” says Anna Lobben­berg, the Library’s Dig­i­tal Pro­grammes Man­ag­er, “these trea­sures could only be viewed in the British Library Read­ing Rooms or on dis­play in exhibitions—now Dis­cov­ery Lit­er­a­ture: 20th Cen­tu­ry will bring these items to any­one in the world with an inter­net con­nec­tion.” It tru­ly is, for the lover of books, a brave new world (a book whose 1932 orig­i­nal dust jack­et you can see here).

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The British Library Puts Over 1,000,000 Images in the Pub­lic Domain: A Deep­er Dive Into the Col­lec­tion

The British Library’s “Sounds” Archive Presents 80,000 Free Audio Record­ings: World & Clas­si­cal Music, Inter­views, Nature Sounds & More

Vir­ginia Woolf Offers Gen­tle Advice on “How One Should Read a Book”

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Hunter S. Thompson Writes a Blistering, Over-the-Top Letter to Anthony Burgess (1973)

Thompson Burgess Letter

We know Antho­ny Burgess for hav­ing writ­ten A Clock­work Orange, but in total, accord­ing to Shaun Ush­er’s More Let­ters of Note: Cor­re­spon­dence Deserv­ing of a Wider Audi­ence (a book based on the well-known blog), he “pub­lished 33 nov­els, 25 non­fic­tion titles, pro­duced poet­ry, short sto­ries and screen­plays, com­posed three sym­phonies, wrote hun­dreds of musi­cal pieces, and spoke nine lan­guages flu­ent­ly.” Yet even such a “pro­lif­ic, ver­sa­tile, and high­ly intel­li­gent” man of let­ters faces writer’s block now and again.

Take the Rolling Stone think­piece Burgess could­n’t man­age to write in 1973. Con­ced­ing defeat — “things are hell here,” he wrote of his life in Rome at the time — he offered the mag­a­zine “a 50,000-word novel­la I’ve just fin­ished, all about the con­di­tion humaine, etc.” in its place. Sure­ly his edi­tor would under­stand? Alas, unluck­i­ly for Burgess, his edi­tor turned out to be one Hunter S. Thomp­son, who fired back the char­ac­ter­is­ti­cal­ly blunt but elo­quent­ly vit­ri­olic reply you see here:

Dear Mr. Burgess,

Herr Wen­ner has for­ward­ed your use­less let­ter from Rome to the Nation­al Affairs Desk for my exam­i­na­tion and/or reply.

Unfor­tu­nate­ly, we have no Inter­na­tion­al Gib­ber­ish Desk, or it would have end­ed up there.

What kind of lame, half-mad bull­shit are you try­ing to sneak over on us? When Rolling Stone asks for “a think­piece”, god­damnit, we want a fuck­ing Think­piece… and don’t try to weasel out with any of your limey bull­shit about a “50,000 word novel­la about the con­di­tion humaine, etc…”

Do you take us for a gang of brain­less lizards? Rich hood­lums? Dilet­tante thugs?

You lazy cock­suck­er. I want that Think­piece on my desk by Labor Day. And I want it ready for press. The time has come & gone when cheap­jack scum like you can get away with the kind of scams you got rich from in the past.

Get your worth­less ass out of the piaz­za and back to the type­writer. Your type is a dime a dozen around here, Burgess, and I’m fucked if I’m going to stand for it any longer.

Sin­cere­ly,

Hunter S Thomp­son

“The desired think­piece nev­er appeared in the pages of Rolling Stone,” writes the Inter­na­tion­al Antho­ny Burgess Foun­da­tion’s Gra­ham Fos­ter, “but the essay referred to in these let­ters, ‘The Clock­work Con­di­tion’, was even­tu­al­ly pub­lished in the New York­er in 2012.” In it, Burgess recalls the ori­gins of his best-known nov­el and con­sid­ers the caus­es of the soci­etal con­for­mi­ty he took as one of his themes, arriv­ing at the Orwellian notion that “the bur­den of mak­ing one’s own choic­es is, for many peo­ple, intol­er­a­ble. To be tied to the neces­si­ty of decid­ing for one­self is to be a slave to one’s will.”

That goes for “where to eat, whom to vote for, what to wear” — and, of course, for what to write a think­piece about as well as how to write it. “It is eas­i­er to be told,” Burgess writes. “Smoke Hale — nine­ty per cent less tar; read this nov­el, sev­en­ty-five weeks on the best-sell­er list; don’t see that movie, it’s art­sy-shmart­sy.” He even remem­bers, with a cer­tain fond­ness, his time in the army: “At first I resent­ed the dis­ci­pline, the removal of even min­i­mal lib­er­ty,” but “soon my reduc­tion to a piece of clock­work began to please me, soothe me.” Fair to say, though, that no mat­ter how demand­ing the offi­cers above him, the expe­ri­ence did­n’t pre­pare Burgess for a supe­ri­or like Thomp­son.

via More Let­ters of Note and Esquire

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Read 10 Free Arti­cles by Hunter S. Thomp­son That Span His Gonzo Jour­nal­ist Career (1965–2005)

Read 18 Lost Sto­ries From Hunter S. Thompson’s For­got­ten Stint As a For­eign Cor­re­spon­dent

Hunter S. Thomp­son, Exis­ten­tial­ist Life Coach, Gives Tips for Find­ing Mean­ing in Life

Hunter S. Thompson’s Ball­sy & Hilar­i­ous Job Appli­ca­tion Let­ter (1958)

John­ny Depp Reads Let­ters from Hunter S. Thomp­son

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

A Complete Archive of Vincent van Gogh’s Letters: Beautifully Illustrated and Fully Annotated

van gogh to gauguin

 

First pub­lished in three vol­umes in 1914, only 24 years after his death, the let­ters of Vin­cent Van Gogh have cap­ti­vat­ed lovers of his paint­ing for over a cen­tu­ry for the insights they offer into his cre­ative bliss and anguish. They have also long been accord­ed the sta­tus of lit­er­a­ture. “There is scarce­ly one let­ter by Van Gogh,” wrote W.H. Auden, “which I do not find fas­ci­nat­ing.”

That first pub­lished col­lec­tion con­sist­ed only of the painter’s 651 let­ters to his younger broth­er, Theo, who died six months after Vin­cent. Com­piled and pub­lished by Theo’s wife, Johan­na, Van Gogh’s cor­re­spon­dence became instru­men­tal in spread­ing his fame as both an artist and as a chron­i­cler of deep emo­tion­al expe­ri­ences and reli­gious and philo­soph­i­cal con­vic­tions.

http://art-vangogh.com/

Now avail­able in a six-vol­ume schol­ar­ly col­lec­tion of 819 let­ters Vin­cent wrote to Theo and var­i­ous fam­i­ly mem­bers and friends—as well as 83 let­ters he received—the full cor­re­spon­dence shows us a man who “could write very expres­sive­ly and had a pow­er­ful abil­i­ty to evoke a scene or land­scape with well-cho­sen words.” So write the Van Gogh Muse­um, who also host all of those let­ters online, with thor­ough­ly anno­tat­ed Eng­lish trans­la­tions, man­u­script fac­sim­i­les, and more. The col­lec­tion dates from 1872—with a few mun­dane notes writ­ten to Theo—to Van Gogh’s last let­ter to his broth­er in July of 1890. “I’d real­ly like to write to you about many things,” Vin­cent begins in that final com­mu­ni­ca­tion, “but sense the point­less­ness of it.” He ends the let­ter with an equal­ly omi­nous sen­ti­ment: “Ah well, I risk my life for my own work and my rea­son has half foundered in it.”

http://art-vangogh.com/

In-between these very per­son­al win­dows onto Van Gogh’s state of mind, we see the pro­gres­sion of his career. Ear­ly let­ters con­tain much dis­cus­sion between him and Theo about the busi­ness of art (Vin­cent worked as an art deal­er between 1869 and 1876). End­less mon­ey wor­ries pre­oc­cu­py the bulk of Vin­cen­t’s let­ters to his fam­i­ly. And there are lat­er let­ters between Vin­cent and Paul Gau­g­in and painter Emile Bernard, almost exclu­sive­ly about tech­nique. Since he was “not in a depen­dent posi­tion” with artist friends as he was with fam­i­ly, in the few let­ters he exchanged with his peers, points out the Van Gogh Muse­um, “the sole focus was on art.”

http://art-vangogh.com/

And as you can see here, Van Gogh would not only “evoke a scene or land­scape” with words, but also with many dozens of illus­tra­tions. Many are sketch­es for paint­ings in progress, some quick obser­va­tions and rapid por­traits, and some ful­ly-com­posed scenes. Van Gogh’s sketch­es “basi­cal­ly served one pur­pose, which was to give the recip­i­ent an idea of some­thing that he was work­ing on or had fin­ished.” (See the sketch of his room in an 1888 let­ter to Gau­guin at the top of the post.) In ear­ly let­ters to Theo, the sketches—which Vin­cent called “scratches”—also served to con­vince his younger broth­er and patron of his com­mit­ment and to demon­strate his progress. You can peruse all of the let­ters at your leisure here. Click on “With Sketch­es” to see the let­ters fea­tur­ing illus­tra­tions.

http://art-vangogh.com/

And for much more con­text on the his­to­ry of Van Gogh’s cor­re­spon­dence, see the Van Gogh Museum’s site for bio­graph­i­cal infor­ma­tion, essays on Van Gogh’s many themes, his rhetor­i­cal style, and the state and appear­ance of the man­u­scripts.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Down­load Hun­dreds of Van Gogh Paint­ings, Sketch­es & Let­ters in High Res­o­lu­tion

13 Van Gogh’s Paint­ings Painstak­ing­ly Brought to Life with 3D Ani­ma­tion & Visu­al Map­ping

The Unex­pect­ed Math Behind Van Gogh’s “Star­ry Night”

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Download Beautiful Free Vintage Easter Cards from the New York Public Library

NYPL Easter 3

‘Tis the sea­son when bun­nies tem­porar­i­ly upend cats as rulers of the Inter­net.

There are scores of vin­tage snap­shots in which inno­cent chil­dren are pas­sive­ly men­aced by hideous, full body bun­ny cos­tumes—hope­ful­ly an inac­cu­rate reflec­tion of the adults encased there­in…

“Medieval rab­bits that hate East­er and want to kill you”

Some edi­ble DIY fails

And mer­ci­ful­ly, a bit of sweet nos­tal­gia from the New York Pub­lic Library, who is mak­ing its robust col­lec­tion of East­er greet­ings avail­able for free down­load.

NYPL Easter 2
NYPL Easter 1

Each card comes with pub­li­ca­tion infor­ma­tion. Images of the flip sides reveal that the sender often con­sid­ered the pub­lish­ers’ preprint­ed sen­ti­ments cor­re­spon­dence enough. (It’s some­thing of a relief to real­ize that social media did not invent this kind of short­hand.)

NYPL Easter 4

Bun­nies are not the only fruit here… sea­son­al flo­ra and fau­na abound, in addi­tion to more explic­it­ly reli­gious iconog­ra­phy.

NYPL Easter 5
NYPL Easter 6
NYPL Easter 7
NYPL Easter 8

View the entire col­lec­tion here. Down­load as many as you’d like and do with them as you will.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The New York Pub­lic Library Lets You Down­load 180,000 Images in High Res­o­lu­tion: His­toric Pho­tographs, Maps, Let­ters & More

New York Pub­lic Library Puts 20,000 Hi-Res Maps Online & Makes Them Free to Down­load and Use

Down­load 2,000 Mag­nif­i­cent Turn-of-the-Cen­tu­ry Art Posters, Cour­tesy of the New York Pub­lic Library

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

New Rosa Parks Archive is Now Online: Features 7,500 Manuscripts & 2,500 Photographs, Courtesy of the Library of Congress

It’s telling that the Library of Con­gress, in dig­i­tiz­ing its vast Rosa Parks Col­lec­tion in close to its entire­ty, had to resort to a “rep­re­sen­ta­tive sam­ple” of chil­dren’s greet­ing cards. The lady had no short­age of admir­ers at the ele­men­tary school lev­el.

Parks Kids Card

It’s not sur­pris­ing that Parks’ refusal to yield her bus seat to a white pas­sen­ger in Mont­gomery, Alaba­ma in 1955 res­onates with chil­dren. The sto­ry has the sim­plic­i­ty of a fable, and Parks’ pluck is irre­sistible. It’s as if she took a sling­shot and aimed it right between the eyes of the seg­re­gat­ed South.

It’s easy to con­vey how impor­tant her spon­ta­neous act of resis­tance was to the Civ­il Rights Move­ment. How­ev­er, those few min­utes on Bus 2857 can­not be all there is to a woman whose life spanned nine decades (1913–2005). They are just the his­tor­i­cal equiv­a­lent of a role that an actor can­not escape—great, but ulti­mate­ly lim­it­ing.

The online archive helps to flesh out this icon­ic fig­ure beyond the con­fines of a child’s cray­oned por­trait.

Among the trea­sures are:

Scanned book cov­ers from her per­son­al library

Parks Gandhi
A busi­ness card from her stint as a staffer for Con­gress­man John Cony­ers of Michi­gan… (Parks moved to Detroit short­ly after the Mont­gomery Bus Boy­cott, after both she and her hus­band were dis­missed from their jobs.)

Parks Business Card

Hand­writ­ten rem­i­nis­cences about her rur­al Alaba­ma child­hood…

Parks Childhood

Doc­u­men­ta­tion of speak­ing engage­ments and oth­er pub­lic appear­ances…

Parks Baltimore

A hand­writ­ten pan­cake recipe…

Parks Pancakes

Cor­re­spon­dence from a bevy of high­ly rec­og­niz­able names

And of course, many, many reflec­tions hav­ing to do with the most pub­licly mem­o­rable day in an extreme­ly long life.

Most of the col­lec­tion can be viewed online and the Library has a teach­ing aid with sug­ges­tions on using these pri­ma­ry sources in the class­room. The video below con­tains some high­lights of the col­lec­tion, as well as tech­ni­cal infor­ma­tion on how its con­tents have been pre­served for future gen­er­a­tions.

                        

Relat­ed Con­tent:

‘Tired of Giv­ing In’: The Arrest Report, Mug Shot and Fin­ger­prints of Rosa Parks (Decem­ber 1, 1955)

Mar­tin Luther King, Jr. Writes a List of 16 Sug­ges­tions for African-Amer­i­cans Rid­ing New­ly-Inte­grat­ed Bus­es (1956)

Read Mar­tin Luther King and The Mont­gomery Sto­ry: The Influ­en­tial 1957 Civ­il Rights Com­ic Book

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Gandhi Writes Letters to Hitler: “We Have Found in Non-Violence a Force Which Can Match the Most Violent Forces in the World” (1939/40)

Gandhi Hitler

It must come up in every sin­gle argu­ment, from sophis­ti­cat­ed to sopho­moric, about the prac­ti­ca­bil­i­ty of non-vio­lent paci­fism. “Look what Gand­hi and Mar­tin Luther King, Jr. were able to achieve!” “Yes, but what about Hitler? What do you do about the Nazis?” The rebut­tal implies future Nazi-like enti­ties loom­ing on the hori­zon, and though this reduc­tio ad Hitlerum gen­er­al­ly has the effect of nul­li­fy­ing any con­tin­ued ratio­nal dis­cus­sion, it’s dif­fi­cult to imag­ine a sat­is­fy­ing paci­fist answer to the prob­lem of naked, implaca­ble hatred and aggres­sion on such a scale as that of the Third Reich. Even Gand­hi’s own pro­pos­al sounds like a joke: in 1940, Adolph Hitler aban­dons his plans to claim Leben­sraum for the Ger­man peo­ple and to dis­place, enslave, or erad­i­cate Ger­many’s neigh­bors and unde­sir­able cit­i­zens. He adopts a pos­ture of non-vio­lence and “uni­ver­sal friend­ship,” and Ger­man forces with­draw from Czecho­slo­va­kia, Poland, Den­mark, France, agree­ing to resolve dif­fer­ences through inter­na­tion­al con­fer­ence and com­mit­tee.

Hitler may have been a veg­e­tar­i­an, but that’s like­ly where any sym­pa­thy between him and Gand­hi began and end­ed.  And yet, the above is pre­cise­ly what Mahat­ma Gand­hi asked of the Fuhrer, in a let­ter dat­ed Decem­ber 24, 1940. Engaged ful­ly in the strug­gle for Indi­an inde­pen­dence, Gand­hi found him­self torn by the entry of Britain into the war against Ger­many. On the one hand, Gand­hi ini­tial­ly pledged “non­vi­o­lent moral sup­port” for the war, sens­ing an enemy–Germany–even more threat­en­ing to world peace and sta­bil­i­ty. (That stance would change in short order as the Indi­an Nation­al Con­gress revolt­ed and resigned en masse rather than par­tic­i­pate in the war). On the oth­er hand, Gand­hi did not see the British Empire as cat­e­gor­i­cal­ly dif­fer­ent from the Nazis. As he put it in his let­ter to Hitler, whom he address­es as “Friend” (this is “no for­mal­i­ty,” he writes, “I own no foes”): “If there is a dif­fer­ence, it is in degree. One-fifth of the human race has been brought under the British heel by means that will not bear scruti­ny.”

Gand­hi acknowl­edges the absur­di­ty of his request: “I am aware,” he writes, “that your view of life regards such spo­li­a­tions as vir­tu­ous acts.” And yet, he mar­shals a for­mi­da­ble argu­ment for non­vi­o­lence as a force of pow­er, not weak­ness, show­ing how it had weak­ened British rule: “The move­ment of inde­pen­dence has been nev­er so strong as now,” he writes, through “the right means to com­bat the most orga­nized vio­lence in the world which the British pow­er rep­re­sents”:

It remains to be seen which is the bet­ter orga­nized, the Ger­man or the British. We know what the British heel means for us and the non-Euro­pean races of the world. But we would nev­er wish to end the British rule with Ger­man aid. We have found in non-vio­lence a force which, if orga­nized, can with­out doubt match itself against a com­bi­na­tion of all the most vio­lent forces in the world. In non-vio­lent tech­nique, as I have said, there is no such thing as defeat. It is all ‘do or die’ with­out killing or hurt­ing. It can be used prac­ti­cal­ly with­out mon­ey and obvi­ous­ly with­out the aid of sci­ence of destruc­tion which you have brought to such per­fec­tion. It is a mar­vel to me that you do not see that it is nobody’s monop­oly. If not the British, some oth­er pow­er will cer­tain­ly improve upon your method and beat you with your own weapon. You are leav­ing no lega­cy to your peo­ple of which they would feel proud. They can­not take pride in a recital of cru­el deed, how­ev­er skill­ful­ly planned. I, there­fore, appeal to you in the name of human­i­ty to stop the war.

As an alter­na­tive to war, Gand­hi pro­pos­es an “inter­na­tion­al tri­bunal of your joint choice” to deter­mine “which par­ty was in the right.” His let­ter, Gand­hi writes, should be tak­en as “a joint appeal to you and Sign­or Mus­soli­ni…. I hope that he will take this as addressed to him also with the nec­es­sary changes.”

Gand­hi also ref­er­ences an appeal he made “to every Briton to accept my method of non-vio­lent resis­tance.” That appeal took the form of an open let­ter he pub­lished that July, “To Every Briton,” in which he wrote:

You will invite Herr Hitler and Sign­or Mus­soli­ni to take what they want of the coun­tries you call your pos­ses­sions. Let them take pos­ses­sion of your beau­ti­ful island, with your many beau­ti­ful build­ings. You will give all these, but nei­ther your souls, nor your minds. If these gen­tle­men choose to occu­py your homes, you will vacate them. If they do not give you free pas­sage out, you will allow your­self, man, woman and child, to be slaugh­tered, but you will refuse to owe alle­giance to them.

When Gand­hi vis­it­ed Eng­land that year, he found the viceroy of colo­nial India “dumb­struck” by these requests, writes Stan­ley Wolpert in his biog­ra­phy of the Indi­an leader, “unable to utter a word in response, refus­ing even to call for his car to take the now more deeply despon­dent Gand­hi home.”

Gand­hi’s 1940 let­ter to Hitler was actu­al­ly his sec­ond addressed to the Nazi leader. The first, a very short mis­sive writ­ten in 1939, one month before the ill-fat­ed Sovi­et Non-Aggres­sion Pact, strikes a con­cil­ia­to­ry tone. Gand­hi writes that he resist­ed requests from friends to pen the let­ter “because of the feel­ing that any let­ter from me would be an imper­ti­nence,” and though he calls on Hitler to “pre­vent a war which may reduce human­i­ty to a sav­age state,” he ends with, “I antic­i­pate your for­give­ness, If I have erred in writ­ing to you.” But again, in this very brief let­ter, Gand­hi appeals to the “con­sid­er­able suc­cess” of his non­vi­o­lent meth­ods. “There is no evi­dence,” The Chris­t­ian Sci­ence Mon­i­tor remarks, “to sug­gest Hitler ever respond­ed to either of Gand­hi’s let­ters.”

As the war unavoid­ably raged, Gand­hi redou­bled his efforts at Indi­an inde­pen­dence, launch­ing the  “Quit India” move­ment in 1942, which—writes Open Uni­ver­si­ty—“more than any­thing, unit­ed the Indi­an peo­ple against British rule” and has­tened its even­tu­al end in 1947. Non-vio­lence suc­ceed­ed, improb­a­bly, against the British Empire, though cer­tain oth­er for­mer colonies won inde­pen­dence through more tra­di­tion­al­ly war­like meth­ods. And yet, though Gand­hi believed non-vio­lent resis­tance could avert the hor­rors of World War II, those of us with­out his lev­el of total com­mit­ment to the prin­ci­ple may find it dif­fi­cult to imag­ine how it might have suc­ceed­ed against the Nazis, or how it could have appealed to their total­iz­ing ide­ol­o­gy of dom­i­na­tion.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Tol­stoy and Gand­hi Exchange Let­ters: Two Thinkers’ Quest for Gen­tle­ness, Humil­i­ty & Love (1909)

Hear Gandhi’s Famous Speech on the Exis­tence of God (1931)

Watch Gand­hi Talk in His First Filmed Inter­view (1947)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

The New York Public Library Lets You Download 180,000 Images in High Resolution: Historic Photographs, Maps, Letters & More

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Most of us Open Cul­ture writ­ers and read­ers sure­ly grew up think­ing of the local pub­lic library as an end­less source of fas­ci­nat­ing things. But the New York Pub­lic Library’s col­lec­tions take that to a whole oth­er lev­el, and, so far, they’ve spent the age of the inter­net tak­ing it to a lev­el beyond that, dig­i­tiz­ing ever more of their fas­ci­nat­ing things and mak­ing them freely avail­able for all of our perusal (and even for use in our own work). Just in the past cou­ple of years, we’ve fea­tured their release of 20,000 high-res­o­lu­tion maps, 17,000 restau­rant menus, and lots of the­ater ephemera.

This week, The New York Pub­lic Library (NYPL) announced not only that their dig­i­tal col­lec­tion now con­tains over 180,000 items, but that they’ve made it pos­si­ble, “no per­mis­sion required, no hoops to jump through,” to down­load and use high-res­o­lu­tion images of all of them.

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You’ll find on their site “more promi­nent down­load links and fil­ters high­light­ing restric­tion-free con­tent,” and, if you have techi­er inter­ests, “updates to the Dig­i­tal Col­lec­tions API enabling bulk use and analy­sis, as well as data exports and util­i­ties post­ed to NYPL’s GitHub account.” You might also con­sid­er apply­ing for the NYPL’s Remix Res­i­den­cy pro­gram, designed to fos­ter “trans­for­ma­tive and cre­ative uses of dig­i­tal col­lec­tions and data, and the pub­lic domain assets in par­tic­u­lar.”

NYPL 3

And what do those assets include? Endur­ing pieces of Amer­i­can doc­u­men­tary art like the Farm Secu­ri­ty Admin­is­tra­tion pho­tographs tak­en dur­ing the Great Depres­sion by Dorothea Lange, Walk­er Evans, and Gor­don Parks. Lange’s shot of the Mid­way Dairy Coop­er­a­tive near San­ta Ana, Cal­i­for­nia appears at the top of the post. Arti­facts from the cre­ative process­es of such icons of Amer­i­can lit­er­a­ture as Hen­ry David Thore­auNathaniel Hawthorne, and Walt Whit­man, whose hand­writ­ten pref­ace to Spec­i­men Days you’ll find sec­ond from the top. The let­ters and oth­er papers of the Found­ing Fathers, includ­ing Thomas Jef­fer­son­’s list of books for a pri­vate library just above. And, of course, all those maps, like the 1868 Plan of New York and Brook­lyn just below.

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These selec­tions make the NYPL’s dig­i­tal col­lec­tion seem strong­ly Amer­i­ca-focused, and to an extent it is, but apart from host­ing a rich repos­i­to­ry of the his­to­ry, art, and let­ters of the Unit­ed States, it also con­tains such fas­ci­nat­ing inter­na­tion­al mate­ri­als as medieval Euro­pean illu­mi­nat­ed man­u­scripts16th-cen­tu­ry hand­scrolls illus­trat­ing The Tale of Gen­ji, the first nov­el; and 19th-cen­tu­ry cyan­otypes of British algae by botanist and pho­tog­ra­ph­er Anna Atkins, the first per­son to pub­lish a book illus­trat­ed with pho­tos. You can start your own brows­ing on the NYPL Dig­i­tal Col­lec­tions front page, and if you do, you’ll soon find that some­thing else we knew about the library grow­ing up — what good places they make in which to get lost — holds even truer on the inter­net.

nypl.digitalcollections.510d47da-ec3d-a3d9-e040-e00a18064a99.001.w

Relat­ed Con­tent:

100,000+ Won­der­ful Pieces of The­ater Ephemera Dig­i­tized by The New York Pub­lic Library

Food­ie Alert: New York Pub­lic Library Presents an Archive of 17,000 Restau­rant Menus (1851–2008)

New York Pub­lic Library Puts 20,000 Hi-Res Maps Online & Makes Them Free to Down­load and Use

The British Library Puts 1,000,000 Images into the Pub­lic Domain, Mak­ing Them Free to Reuse & Remix

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

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