CHAPTER I. The Writing of the Book
It is fitting that Miss Keller’s
“Story of My Life” should appear at this
time. What is remarkable in her career is already
accomplished, and whatever she may do in the future
will be but a relatively slight addition to the success
which distinguishes her now. That success has
just been assured, for it is her work at Radcliffe
during the last two years which has shown that she
can carry her education as far as if she were studying
under normal conditions. Whatever doubts Miss
Keller herself may have had are now at rest.
Several passages of her autobiography,
as it appeared in serial form, have been made the
subject of a grave editorial in a Boston newspaper,
in which the writer regretted Miss Keller’s apparent
disillusionment in regard to the value of her college
life. He quoted the passages in which she explains
that college is not the “universal Athens”
she had hoped to find, and cited the cases of other
remarkable persons whose college life had proved disappointing.
But it is to be remembered that Miss Keller has written
many things in her autobiography for the fun of writing
them, and the disillusion, which the writer of the
editorial took seriously, is in great part humorous.
Miss Keller does not suppose her views to be of great
importance, and when she utters her opinions on important
matters she takes it for granted that her reader will
receive them as the opinions of a junior in college,
not of one who writes with the wisdom of maturity.
For instance, it surprised her that some people were
annoyed at what she said about the Bible, and she
was amused that they did not see, what was plain enough,
that she had been obliged to read the whole Bible
in a course in English literature, not as a religious
duty put upon her by her teacher or her parents.
I ought to apologize to the reader
and to Miss Keller for presuming to say what her subject
matter is worth, but one more explanation is necessary.
In her account of her early education Miss Keller
is not giving a scientifically accurate record of her
life, nor even of the important events. She cannot
know in detail how she was taught, and her memory
of her childhood is in some cases an idealized memory
of what she has learned later from her teacher and
others. She is less able to recall events of fifteen
years ago than most of us are to recollect our childhood.
That is why her teacher’s records may be found
to differ in some particulars from Miss Keller’s
account.
The way in which Miss Keller wrote
her story shows, as nothing else can show, the difficulties
she had to overcome. When we write, we can go
back over our work, shuffle the pages, interline,
rearrange, see how the paragraphs look in proof, and
so construct the whole work before the eye, as an architect
constructs his plans. When Miss Keller puts her
work in typewritten form, she cannot refer to it again
unless some one reads it to her by means of the manual
alphabet.
This difficulty is in part obviated
by the use of her braille machine, which makes a manuscript
that she can read; but as her work must be put ultimately
in typewritten form, and as a braille machine is somewhat
cumbersome, she has got into the habit of writing
directly on her typewriter. She depends so little
on her braille manuscript, that, when she began to
write her story more than a year ago and had put in
braille a hundred pages of material and notes, she
made the mistake of destroying these notes before
she had finished her manuscript. Thus she composed
much of her story on the typewriter, and in constructing
it as a whole depended on her memory to guide her
in putting together the detached episodes, which Miss
Sullivan read over to her.
Last July, when she had finished under
great pressure of work her final chapter, she set
to work to rewrite the whole story. Her good
friend, Mr. William Wade, had a complete braille copy
made for her from the magazine proofs. Then for
the first time she had her whole manuscript under
her finger at once. She saw imperfections in
the arrangement of paragraphs and the repetition of
phrases. She saw, too, that her story properly
fell into short chapters and redivided it.
Partly from temperament, partly from
the conditions of her work, she has written rather
a series of brilliant passages than a unified narrative;
in point of fact, several paragraphs of her story
are short themes written in her English courses, and
the small unit sometimes shows its original limits.
In rewriting the story, Miss Keller
made corrections on separate pages on her braille
machine. Long corrections she wrote out on her
typewriter, with catch-words to indicate where they
belonged. Then she read from her braille copy
the entire story, making corrections as she read,
which were taken down on the manuscript that went
to the printer. During this revision she discussed
questions of subject matter and phrasing. She
sat running her finger over the braille manuscript,
stopping now and then to refer to the braille notes
on which she had indicated her corrections, all the
time reading aloud to verify the manuscript.
She listened to criticism just as
any author listens to his friends or his editor.
Miss Sullivan, who is an excellent critic, made suggestions
at many points in the course of composition and revision.
One newspaper suggested that Miss Keller had been led
into writing the book and had been influenced to put
certain things into it by zealous friends. As
a matter of fact, most of the advice she has received
and heeded has led to excisions rather than to additions.
The book is Miss Keller’s and is final proof
of her independent power.