Kate Feldmann
Working with Manuscripts
Karen Sanchez-Eppler
10/5/11
Identification
I was delighted to find a wealth of manuscripts in the Fanny Fern and Ethel Parton Papers
(Sophia Smith Collection) that consist of short children’s stories that cover a wild range
of topics, from “How the Dahlia Entered Good Society” to short vignettes about “Great
Folk As Little Folk”. Ethel Parton wrote these short stories, usually two-pages in length,
in her seventies.
Ethel Parton was born in 1862 to Mortimer Thomson—who had the delightful pen
name of Q. K. Philander Doesticks, under which he wrote numerous satires that used
“double entendres and sly asides” (chnm.gmu.edu)—and Grade Eldredge, daughter of the
famous author Fanny Fern. After her mother died, one James Parton (his relationship to
her of which I am still unclear) and her grandmother Fanny Fern adopted Ethel.
Succeeding high school, Ethel worked for this Mr. Parton as a “secretary, literary
assistant, and occasional collaborator.” (asteria.fivecolleges.edu). When he kicked the
bucket Ethel went on to work for Youth’s Companion, a children’s magazine that ran
from 1827-1929 (youthscompanion.com), where she contributed verses and stories
(asteria.fivecolleges.edu).
Very late into her career Ethel Parton began to write children’s books. She
published many, but her most famous were six titles which became collectively known as
“The Newburyport Chronicles” of which included Melissa Ann (1932), Tabitha Mary
(1933), Penelope Ellen (1936), Vinnie Applegay and Minnie Applegay (1937), Runaway
Prentice (1939), The Lost Locket (1940), and The House Between (1943)
(asteria.fivecolleges.edu).
I was drawn to these documents because they are children’s stories and I want to
work with this genre. What I love about children’s stories is that there is fun and life to
them that you don’t find in diaries, or in adult fiction, and especially not in non-fiction.
Children’s stories are brim-full of imagination and illuminate ideas and revelations with a
fresh voice—whereas adult stories strive to find the light in less explored areas or topics,
to be completely original and not touch upon general truths—originality in children’s
stories comes from the voice, and not from the subject matter, and there is so much more
that attracts me to a good voice than to a weighty topic. Children’s writers do not shy
away from writing about the more clichéd topics, because to a child, everything is new,
and nothing has yet become overused or dramaticized. Ethel Parton’s papers encapsulate
everything I love about children’s literature—there is fun and life to them. There is wit
and wild creativity. The stories are quirky and over quickly (a benefit for those that do
not hold my interest as much as others that do not to be dwelled upon).
The physical papers occupy several folders. Because Ethel Parton writes very
short stories, I would like to work with many of her manuscripts, and these manuscripts
range in material form. The papers that I perused most where those that eventually
became “Great Folk as Little Folk”. The first of these papers was mis-filed under
“Flower, Fruit and Fancy”—where the idea for the work was indicated on brittle yellow
pieces of paper, clearly from a notepad (some of the papers were still attached at the top
by a thin coating of glue). This pad seemed to serve as a place to jot down ideas and
notes, for it is about half-way through the papers that we see at the top: “Historic
Children—” followed by a list of famous names…
1. Napolean
2. Queen Elizabeth
…4. Edward VI
5. Son of Queen Anne
6. Mary Queen of Scots
…the list goes on to include 63 names, among them Louis XIII, Mozart, John Keats,
Dickens, Joan of Arc, and Victor Hugo.
The names listed were clearly added over time, as the first dozen or so are written
in black ink in the same script, later in the list names are added in blue or purple ink—the
same hand, but in various sizes and states of sloppiness and legibility. At the end of the
list reads “Great Fold And Little Folk” OR “Great Fold as Little Folk”. It became clear to
me upon reading this that Parton’s intentions were to write stories about these famous
folk as children. To my great delight, in some of the further files were drafts of a few of
the listed names that Parton had indeed captured in two-page snapshots of Great Folk as
little ones. I forget the people that she wrote about, but recall that included with the
various drafts of these stories were article clippings that mentioned the historical figure in
question. The latest editions of these stories were typed on heavy white paper, in-between
drafts on a thinner, more translucent white, and earliest drafts were scrawled in pencil on
paper of detail that I cannot recall. On every version save the final draft, Parton had
crossed out and revised or commented on lines in a black pen.
Thank god for the typed drafts, because one of the biggest problems that I foresee
with Ethel Parton’s papers is her lack of legibility. Her handwriting can be made out with
lots of patience and heavy sighs, but it is slow, slow going. Nevertheless, there is
something charming and romantic about reading first drafts written out. These days
children’s book manuscripts are typed documents—and those documents are edited by
making changes over the first and second and third draft and this initial document is
essentially the only document and is passed back and forth until the original draft is
obscured and only available through a really irritating tracking tool that essentially strives
to undermine everything that anger-management workshops try to secure. What I am
getting at is that there is a very large attraction for me in being able to hold physical
copies of drafts, rather than sorting through one online document that keeps track of all
the edits.
The majority of the manuscripts that I rifled through consisted of typed drafts of
stories, but these were often paired with earlier drafts typed on cheaper paper, notes and
scrawlings on scrap-bits of paper, and newspaper clippings that were used as research.
There was a longer work included about a princess that may have consisted of around
150-200 pages, but I believe that I will work mainly with Ethel Parton’s shorter stories,
drawing mainly upon her works that can be traced from conception to final draft.
References
"Doesticks Visits the Museum." Roy Rosenzweig Center for History and New Media.
Web. 05 Oct. 2011. <http://chnm.gmu.edu/lostmuseum/lm/32/>.
"Fanny Fern and Ethel Parton Papers, 1805-1982 : Biographical and Historical
Note." Five College Archives & Manuscript Collections. Web. 02 Oct. 2011.
<http://asteria.fivecolleges.edu/findaids/sophiasmith/mnsss19_bioghist.html>.
The Youth's Companion Project. Web. 05 Oct. 2011. <http://youthscompanion.com/>.