Good morning! I’ve been digging into Louisa May Alcott’s history with @TheAtlantic and this story is too good not to share. (1/15)
@TheAtlantic In 1861, Alcott submitted a manuscript to The Atlantic called “How I Went Out to Service,” a fictionalized account of her own (weird, short-lived) experience as a servant. (2/15)
@TheAtlantic The editor at the time, James T. Fields, rejected it.
The Atlantic had previously published her work under the magazine’s founding editor James Russell Lowell. Here’s a modern Cinderella story she wrote for the October 1860 issue, for example: theatlantic.com/magazine/archi… (3/15)
Fields was less interested in Alcott’s work. He wrote to her: “Stick to your teaching, Miss Alcott. You can’t write,” and gave her an unsolicited (!) loan of $40 so she could set up a schoolhouse. (4/15)
Naturally, she was furious. Months later she was still thinking about the remark. “I won’t teach. I can write, and I’ll prove it,” she wrote in her journal. To friends she complained about The Atlantic being a “slow coach magazine.” (5/15)
Meanwhile, other magazines took notice. Alcott was publishing pulp fiction—tales of “blood and thunder” as she put it—in other popular monthlies and weeklies. Her career took off. (6/15)
In 1863, another abolitionist magazine published Alcott’s “Hospital Sketches,” inspired by her service as a nurse in the Army caring for Union soldiers in Washington, D.C. It was a sensation. Fields then sent word that he’d love to publish her after all. (7/15)
That fall, The Atlantic paid Alcott $10 to publish “Thoreau’s flute,” a poem she’d written after Henry David Thoreau’s death. “Of course I didn’t say no,” Alcott wrote of Fields’s newfound interest in her work. (8/15)
The poem was published anonymously (customary for poetry in The Atlantic at the time) and people assumed it was written by Ralph Waldo Emerson. (9/15)
(Sidenote: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow even stopped by the Alcott house with a copy of The Atlantic, raving about Emerson’s latest. As Longfellow began to read the poem aloud to Alcott’s father, he interrupted to say Louisa was in fact the author.) theatlantic.com/magazine/archi… (10/15)
Five years later, in 1868, Alcott’s “Little Women” was published. It became one of the most successful books of all time, and has never been out of print. (11/15)
In 1871, a decade after Fields rejected her, Alcott wrote him a brief note and enclosed $40. (12/15)
“Dear Mr. Fields,
Once upon a time you lent me forty dollars, kindly saying that I might return them when I made a ‘pot of gold.’ As the miracle has been unexpectedly wrought I wish to fulfill my part of the bargain, I herewith repay my debt with many thanks.
L.M. Alcott”
Alcott later told Fields: “I found writing paid so much better than teaching that I thought I’d stick to my pen.” (14/15)
The internet is a miracle. But the social web is so badly broken. My latest feature is about the core problem at the center of that brokenness. (1/7)
I’ve been thinking for years about what it would take to mitigate the harm caused by platforms like Facebook, YouTube, Google, and Twitter. (2/7)
I realized only recently that I’ve been thinking far too narrowly about the problem. I used to argue that Facebook should admit that it is a media company, and take responsibility for its product same way that the editor of a magazine would. (3/7)
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the people who choose to serve in the military and to run for public office. [1/12]
Senator Daniel Inouye comes to mind. He was the first Japanese American in Congress. He died in 2012, when he was 88 years old. [2/12]
He was only 21 years old when he was very nearly killed leading his platoon against a heavily defended Nazi fortification on the Gothic Line, in Italy, in 1945. Inouye was shot in the stomach and in the leg. His arm was shattered, and later amputated, without anesthesia. [3/12]
Her story about mask-wearing in April was so far ahead of so much else out there. “Think of the coronavirus pandemic as a fire... spread by infected people breathing out invisible embers every time they speak, cough, or sneeze.” (2/6) theatlantic.com/health/archive…
This piece on authoritarian blindness and how it is exacerbated in a pandemic is chilling (3/6) theatlantic.com/technology/arc…
I’ve been writing about conspiracy theories and misinformation for more than a decade. But QAnon, which first emerged in 2017, always seemed different. (1/10) theatlantic.com/magazine/archi…
I set out to report this story because I wanted to understand who really believed in Q, and why. What I learned surprised me. (2/10)
For the uninitiated, the basic premise: Q is a military insider with proof that world leaders are secretly torturing children; the malefactors are embedded in the “deep state”; Trump is working to thwart them. Q posts internet clues called “Q drops” to advance these ideas. (3/10)
Today @TheAtlantic launched a new series about this weird limbo we’re all in. We're taking stock of what we've lost in the world left behind, and imagining the world already being remade in its place. I’ll keep updating this thread.
Here's @JamesFallows on what flying will be like for the next many years. Turns out the last two decades of air travel, which so often seemed undignified and awful, actually represented the golden age of flying: theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/…
Want to read something spectacular that has nothing to do with what's going on today? I'll keep updating this thread...
Someday the illusion that diamonds are valuable will disintegrate, remembered only as a historical curiosity. It's weird that tiny crystals of carbon are universally recognized tokens of wealth, power, and romance—but it's not an accident. theatlantic.com/magazine/archi…
This is the kind of story that's better to start reading without knowing anything going in. Trust me on this. Masterful on many levels, by @MatthewTeague: theatlantic.com/magazine/archi…