The Selected Letters of Tennessee Williams: Volume 1, 1920-1945.  Edited by Albert J. Devlin and Nancy M. Tischler. New York: New Directions, 2000. 581 pages. $37.00.

On July 16, 1939, in one of his first letters to his literary agent, Audrey Wood, Tennessee Williams announced that he didn’t like novels because “they seem purely esthetic, not living as plays are” (179). A month later, from Frieda Lawrence’s ranch in New Mexico, Williams entitled a letter to Wood “American Blues,” identified the setting “(In Taos),” and imagined a comic dialogue between “Tennessee” and “Brett” (Dorothy Brett, friend of D. H. Lawrence and his widow). The scenario poked fun at Brett’s deafness and her boring reminiscences on the great “Lorenzo,” but Williams also satirized “Tennessee’s” poverty and his ambition to write a play about Lawrence.

 For many Williams fans and scholars, this first volume of a two-volume edition of Selected Letters will be of greatest value for the scores of insights that letters like these to Wood provide on the playwright’s developing sense of his craft. Editors Albert J. Devlin and Nancy M. Tischler were careful “to document both the literary foreground and the early production history of the two major plays of the period: Battle of Angels, which closed ingloriously in Boston in 1941, and The Glass Menagerie, whose long and uncertain gestation came to brilliant issue in Chicago and New York” (xi). The triumphant emergence of Glass Menagerie from the midst of Williams’s several concurrent projects (including fiction and poetry, as well as one-act and full-length plays) is the culmination of years of physical and artistic journeying.

The first volume of Selected Letters is thus a perfect companion to Lyle Leverich’s authorized biography, Tom: The Unknown Tennessee Williams (1995), which likewise builds up to Glass Menagerie’s climactic and (to Tennessee Williams) unsettling role in the plot of his life. Belying the anxieties surrounding this achievement, the last of the 25 or so illustrations in the edition of correspondence is a cheerful photograph of a bowtied Williams receiving the New York Drama Critics’ Circle Award for the best American drama of 1944-45.

The Wingfields’ family tensions in the world of the play are anticipated throughout Selected Letters, starting with the very first missive, greetings from eight-year-old Tom on a happy visit at his grandparents’ familiar house in Clarksdale, Mississippi, to his fragile mother

Edwina in dreary St. Louis. In a typically substantial annotation, Devlin and Tischler cite an interview in which Williams referred to that Missouri metropolis as “the City of St. Pollution” (3), and they summarize the events that led the travelling salesman Cornelius Coffin Williams to uproot his young family so disastrously from their Delta home. In this earliest letter, Tom also sends love to his sister Rose, who became the model for Laura Wingfield of Glass Menagerie, Blanche DuBois of Streetcar Named Desire, and many other vulnerable women in the Williams canon.


“It was with Rose Williams that the family chronicle gave the most profound evidence of its literary potential,” Devlin and Tischler observe (xiii)--which makes it surprising that Rose’s permanent hospitalization after the 1943 lobotomy “is not close to the surface of the letters” (xiv). Nor does Williams’s correspondence often speak of his own “blue devils,” the struggles against madness that appear vividly in the journal he began to keep in 1936. The journal (recently edited by Margaret Thornton, to be published by Yale University Press) is a crucial resource for Devlin and Tischler’s task of editing the 330 letters, notes, and telegrams they chose from the 900 such pieces that remain from the years 1920 to 1945. So are Leverich’s weighty biography, the letters that are not printed here, countless interviews with those who knew Tennessee Williams (including Jim Parrott, who drove to California with the young Tom), Williams’s literary works, obscure newspaper articles, a range of drama reviewers and literary critics--a huge bibliography marshaled to make this edition as complete as the two longtime Williams scholars could make it.

Because most of the early correspondence had never been published, Selected Letters will become an essential tool for all future research on Tennessee Williams. The University of Texas at Austin, Harvard University, and Columbia University are the major holders of the letters printed in volume 1, but Devlin and Tischler also thank many other institutions and private collectors for sharing additional correspondence. Brought together in one book, these letters convey a large spectrum of tones as Williams adjusts his voice to his audience: tender with his beloved Dakin grandparents, “colloquial and sexually vivid” with “tieless young casuals” (xi), and with his mother “curiously flat and devoid of emotion but informed by a deep regard for the binding effect of family relations” (xiii). Whether the signature is “Tom,” “Tennessee Williams,” or “10,” the correspondence charts “a literary life that nearly failed to beat the heavy odds arrayed against it” (xv). Devlin and Tischler repeatedly remind us, in their introduction and annotations, not only of Williams’s difficult family life but also of his historic context: the Great Depression, World War II, and the “demise”--just as he arrived in New York in 1939--of the Group Theatre, “whose playreader, Molly Day Thacher, admired his work, and of the Federal Theatre Project, which might have produced his early topical plays had its funding not been cut by a partisan congress" (xv).

Volume 1 of Selected Letters reflects many such hardships and disappointments, but it simultaneously reveals the “lyrical core of memory that sustained Williams during his prolonged apprenticeship and maturity as a writer” (xiv). Sensitive to the author’s lyricism, Devlin and Tischler respond with a poetic spirit of their own. The letters selected from the years 1939-45, they say, “are intended to catch the alternating rhythms of life on the road, at the Williams’s unhappy home in St. Louis, and upon the Broadway stage” (xi). Another rhythm is generated by the pattern of letter and annotation, unbroken by distracting footnote numbers.  The outstanding editorial performance in this collection will create an audience clamoring for the curtain to rise on the epistolary dramas of Selected Letters, Volume 2.

Joan Wylie Hall