I noticed this title on the James Fenimore Cooper author page at Project Gutenberg and thought the same thing anyone reading this is probably thinking now: WHAT?!
I have a fondness for unusual old books, so I added it to my someday lists. When it came time to read the book (originally serialized in four issues of Graham's Magazine of 1843) I was expecting a tongue-in-cheek bit of fluff. But according to the very interesting forward notes by the secretary of the JFC Society, who transcribed this work for Gutenberg, this was Cooper's first serious attempt at magazine writing. The editors at Graham's must have liked the novelette, since they published other Cooper works over the years as well, including a novel that stretched out for two years!
I appreciate the work Secretary MacDougall put into the transcribing of this book. He left the text as originally printed, but added footnotes to explain the French words and phrases Cooper used throughout, and also some of the now dated events that were commented on in the course of the piece. It would have been quite confusing without these notes, so thank you, Mr. Secretary!
But what about the book itself? Is it interesting? Is it readable? After all, this is an old-fashioned author writing close to 175 years ago. What could he possibly have to say that would entertain anyone these days?
Well, I admit the first paragraph was hard to get through. The pocket handkerchief was talking about ancestors and how even a prince has the blood of a beggar in his veins if he traces his family tree back far enough. Of course the PH said it much more flowery than that. I read that paragraph a few times and am still not entirely certain I 'got it' all. But after that the PH sounded less snooty and began to tell about its life: it came from Yankee flax seed that was grown in Connecticut and shipped in a barrel to Europe. But on the way it was stolen by a French privateer and then sold, so the Yankee flax seed was planted in France, which is how our friend the PH came to be French.
I was tickled by Cooper's imagination: the handkerchief remembers being so happy in the field with its family, even listening to an astronomer who used to sit out near the field at night to watch the stars and lecture students. Oh, but then comes the trauma: It is scarcely necessary to dwell on the scenes which occurred between the time I first sprang from the earth and that in which I was "pulled." The latter was a melancholy day for me, however, arriving prematurely as regarded my vegetable state, since it was early determined that I was to be spun into threads of unusual fineness. I will only say, here, that my youth was a period of innocent pleasures, during which my chief delight was to exhibit my simple but beautiful flowers, in honor of the hand that gave them birth. At the proper season, the whole field was laid low, when a scene of hurry and confusion succeeded, to which I find it exceedingly painful to turn in memory.
The real beginnings of the handkerchief are here, where it goes through the process of being turned into linen of the finest quality. And it is in the bleaching grounds that PH learns about politics. Again, I thought Cooper was clever with the way he wove together the same revolution that Victor Hugo wrote about in Les Miserables and the life of our pocket handkerchief. He has the piece of linen absorbing the opposing political views of the men who tend the bleaching grounds, which accounts for the fact that one side of the length of material held certain views, while the other felt just the opposite, which led to some hefty arguments in the threads, according to PH.
Eventually the material is sold and the finest pieces are bundled into a packet of a dozen handkerchiefs. Now is a good time to explain that at that time, a handkerchief of such quality was not meant for use but for show, or to flirt with, or to wave to a friend. Certainly not for anything so crude as blowing your nose!
Our PH was to be to sold to a special customer of a little shop, but the July Revolution occurred before any sale could be made and PH and its friends spent the time hidden away in a trunk. Finally one day months later the lovely Adrienne comes and buys PH, taking it home to embroider in hopes of earning enough from the sale of the finished piece to keep her elderly Grandmother and herself alive for a few more months. Adrienne and her Grandma had lived near the fields during the bleaching process so PH knew her, and was very proud to be embellished by such an old friend.
Twists and turns follow, political commentaries are made by Cooper in the voice of PH, and she (yes, it turns out that PH is a female handkerchief!) eventually arrives in America to have a fun conversation with a Yankee shirt while hanging on the line after a laundering, and to witness American Society of the day, which was already well on the way to becoming the acquisitive, materialistic, I Paid X Amount For This Item Aren't I Wonderful type of place it is now.
PH explains a few times how she knows everything that she does: there is a 'mesmeristic talent' that all handkerchiefs and other items made of natural fibers possess which allows them to sense the feelings of the people nearest them. Maybe this is why we all have our favorite shirts or pairs of jeans? We are not choosing them on our own, they just want to get out of the house as often as possible?!
Anyway, I thought the whole story was clever, and I enjoyed it very much. I find myself looking around to imagine what kind of tale various objects in this room would tell if they could. The bookcase, the old clay marble I found in the yard, the curtains. I could have a lot of fun with this idea!