Gertrude Stein is Gertrude Stein’s best critic. Throughout her writing, she displays a thoughtful comprehension of her reputation as more of a literary celebrity than a literary figure. In Everybody’s Autobiography, she states: “It always did bother me that the American public were more interested in me than in my work. And after all there is no sense in it because if it were not for my work they would not be interested in me so why should they not be more interested in my work than in me [?]” Stein’s observations still hold true today. Stein’s fame derives less from her literary achievement and more from her residence at 27 rue de Fleurus with her lover Alice B Toklas, where she collected fine modernist paintings by her friends Matisse, Picasso, Gris, Picabia, and Cézanne, and entertained well-known writers such as Ernest Hemingway, Sherwood Anderson, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Virgil Thomson and Thorton Wilder.
When considering Stein as a literary celebrity, critics tend to consider Stein’s influence on some of the most important artists in the twentieth-century as being far more important than her own writings. Volumes of criticism attest that Stein’s literary persona maintains an enduring placement in the study of literature, but her writing holds only a tenuous connection to literary history. As a result of her contradictory reputation, Stein’s works are both absent and present canonically. Her writings frequently appear in anthologies and in the classroom but usually only the works that are most reader friendly such as Three Lives, The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas or famous lines such as “Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose” or “Pigeons on the grass alas.”
When considering Stein as a literary celebrity, critics tend to consider Stein’s influence on some of the most important artists in the twentieth-century as being far more important than her own writings. Volumes of criticism attest that Stein’s literary persona maintains an enduring placement in the study of literature, but her writing holds only a tenuous connection to literary history. As a result of her contradictory reputation, Stein’s works are both absent and present canonically. Her writings frequently appear in anthologies and in the classroom but usually only the works that are most reader friendly such as Three Lives, The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas or famous lines such as “Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose” or “Pigeons on the grass alas.”
The inclusion of her accessible works provides a sampling of the writing that receives concurrent praise and condemnation. For instance, Stein’s contemporary Edmund Wilson, a literary critic, insists: “Most of us balk at her soporific rigmaroles, her echolaliac incantations, her half-witted-sounding catalogues of numbers…[But] whenever we pick up her writings, however unintelligible we may find them, we are aware of a literary personality of unmistakable originality and distinction.” Agreeing with her predecessor, critic Randa Dubnick states in her book, The Structure of Obscurity: Gertrude Stein, Language and Cubism: “The pleasures of reading Stein are not easy ones, but they are there. She should be read, at least in small doses, by anyone seriously interested in twentieth-century literature….” Wilson and Dubnick encourage reading Stein the literary eccentric to gain additional insight about her contemporaries and the landscape of twentieth century literature but discourage spending too much time with Stein’s writings.
In the other extreme, some critics prefer to focus on Stein’s expressions of difference and forms of experimentation as a means to make her the literary matriarch for women and gays. Although these readings foster close analysis and expand exposure for Stein’s more complex and significant writings, many of these agenda-laden approaches promote one-dimensional molar readings of Stein that further fragment and isolate Stein’s already fragmented experiments by taking them out of context from the developments and movements in Stein’s work. Agenda-oriented readings under the rubrics of feminism, queer theory, and ethnic studies tend to emphasis Stein as a marginalized writer instead of a “minor writer” (a term that Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari explicate in their theory of minor literature).
I have experienced both these approaches to Stein first hand. The extent of my undergraduate study of Stein occurred during a lecture on Hemingway when the professor told the class that Stein’s “Rose is Rose is Rose is Rose” influenced Hemingway ‘s writing (this was the same professor who only mentioned Sylvia Plath as a student of Robert Lowell’s). Although Stein was not studied in the literature department, her picture appeared on the pamphlets for the student gay, lesbian, bisexual, and trans-gendered organization. Looking back on this rejection of Stein in the literature department and at the acceptance of Stein on the sociopolitical front made me question if Stein is a major and minor writer. Arguments can be made for both sides but regardless of which approach is used Stein’s critics return her to the status of literary celebrity or political activist.
My frustration with the classifications and divisions within Stein criticism led me to look for another way to read Stein. After approaching Stein in many formulaic ways that criticism supports, I found that Deleuze and Guattari’s theory of minor literature circumvents the criticism that limits the discussion of Stein to a series of binaries such as major/minor, canonical/marginalized, and literary celebrity/literary figure. Deleuze and Guattari’s theory of minor literature frees Stein’s criticism from previous one-dimensional readings and provides a new framework for reading Stein.
Although from a critical perspective, I prefer reading Stein within Deleuze and Guattari’s framework, no critical school of thought is necessary to enjoy the writings of Gertrude Stein. The important thing is just to give Stein, probably one the most unique, innovative and underrated authors in literary history, a try. If you are unsure which of Stein’s work to start with take a look at the sensual and unconventional Tender Buttons: Objects, Food and Rooms. Here is a link for the full-text: Tender Buttons
In the other extreme, some critics prefer to focus on Stein’s expressions of difference and forms of experimentation as a means to make her the literary matriarch for women and gays. Although these readings foster close analysis and expand exposure for Stein’s more complex and significant writings, many of these agenda-laden approaches promote one-dimensional molar readings of Stein that further fragment and isolate Stein’s already fragmented experiments by taking them out of context from the developments and movements in Stein’s work. Agenda-oriented readings under the rubrics of feminism, queer theory, and ethnic studies tend to emphasis Stein as a marginalized writer instead of a “minor writer” (a term that Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari explicate in their theory of minor literature).
I have experienced both these approaches to Stein first hand. The extent of my undergraduate study of Stein occurred during a lecture on Hemingway when the professor told the class that Stein’s “Rose is Rose is Rose is Rose” influenced Hemingway ‘s writing (this was the same professor who only mentioned Sylvia Plath as a student of Robert Lowell’s). Although Stein was not studied in the literature department, her picture appeared on the pamphlets for the student gay, lesbian, bisexual, and trans-gendered organization. Looking back on this rejection of Stein in the literature department and at the acceptance of Stein on the sociopolitical front made me question if Stein is a major and minor writer. Arguments can be made for both sides but regardless of which approach is used Stein’s critics return her to the status of literary celebrity or political activist.
My frustration with the classifications and divisions within Stein criticism led me to look for another way to read Stein. After approaching Stein in many formulaic ways that criticism supports, I found that Deleuze and Guattari’s theory of minor literature circumvents the criticism that limits the discussion of Stein to a series of binaries such as major/minor, canonical/marginalized, and literary celebrity/literary figure. Deleuze and Guattari’s theory of minor literature frees Stein’s criticism from previous one-dimensional readings and provides a new framework for reading Stein.
Although from a critical perspective, I prefer reading Stein within Deleuze and Guattari’s framework, no critical school of thought is necessary to enjoy the writings of Gertrude Stein. The important thing is just to give Stein, probably one the most unique, innovative and underrated authors in literary history, a try. If you are unsure which of Stein’s work to start with take a look at the sensual and unconventional Tender Buttons: Objects, Food and Rooms. Here is a link for the full-text: Tender Buttons
