Джозеф Митчелл: Жизнь и творчество американского журналиста

American journalist (1908–1996)

Joseph Quincy Mitchell (July 27, 1908 – May 24, 1996) was an American writer best known for his works of creative nonfiction he published in The New Yorker. His work primarily consists of character studies, where he used detailed portraits of people and events to highlight the commonplace of the world, especially in and around New York City.

Mitchell was born on July 27, 1908, on his maternal grandfather's farm near Fairmont, North Carolina, and was the son of Averette Nance and Elizabeth Amanda Parker Mitchell. He had five younger siblings: Jack, Elizabeth, Linda, Harry, and Laura. Mitchell's father, a fourth generation cotton and tobacco farmer, was a Southerner steeped in the values of the Baptist church, and he tried to instill these values into his children. As his eldest son, Averette hoped that Mitchell would someday take over the family business and continue the family's legacy. Mitchell's adventurous personality as a child contradicted his father's staunch work ethic and traditional Southern values. From a young age, Mitchell was deeply touched by nature. He loved to climb trees, and it was one of the few activities that allowed an outlet for his young imagination to develop. He also tended to escape to the swamps surrounding his father's property as often as he could, as it allowed him to feel connected to the world around him. Mitchell stated, "the water mesmerized me; everything in it interested me, still or moving, dead or alive."

Mitchell left home and attended college at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill in 1925. As a journalism major, he was "a solid if not superior student," and he was successful in humanities courses such as history, language, music, and literature and explored classes in nearly every subject. Aside from his studies, he began writing for the campus literary magazine and newspaper as a sports reporter. Because he had no aptitude for mathematics, he was unable to successfully finish his degree. He left college and moved to New York City in 1929.

On February 27, 1932, he married Therese Jacobsen, a reporter and photographer. They remained married until her death in 1980, and had two daughters, Nora and Elizabeth.

Joseph Mitchell suffered from depression all of his life. An unsteady relationship with his father and his lack of belonging in his two homes of North Carolina and New York left Mitchell isolated and listless for much of his life. He lived in an era of psychology that focused purely on anxiety, and doctors regarded depression as a severe side effect of existing anxiety. However, symptoms of this condition did not clearly manifest in his life until late in his career. Many of Mitchell's coworkers, as well as his biographer, Thomas Kunkel, tell of the toll the subjects of his works had on him, specifically his greatest subject, Joe Gould. Mitchell once remarked to Washington Post writer David Streitfeld, "You pick someone so close that, in fact, you are writing about yourself. Joe Gould had to leave home because he didn't fit in, the same way I had to leave home because I didn't fit in. Talking to Joe Gould all those years he became me in a way, if you see what I mean." Even with Joe Gould as a way to explore his own reality, Mitchell began to attract characters with similar attributes. In a feature within The New Yorker magazine, Charles McGrath notes that "the critic Stanley Edgar Hyman first pointed out that the people Mitchell wrote about more and more resembled himself: loners, depressives, nostalgists, haunters of the waterfront, cherishers of arcane information. The characters in his pieces began to share a similar voice; they all sounded a little like Mitchell." From 1964 until his death in 1996, Mitchell would go to work at his office on a daily basis, but he never published anything further, Although he struggled to publish, he did write hundreds of pages of manuscripts for several pieces, including his own memoir, which Thomas Kunkel used extensively in writing Mitchell's biography. After he died, his colleague Roger Angell wrote:Each morning, he stepped out of the elevator with a preoccupied air, nodded wordlessly if you were just coming down the hall, and closed himself in his office. He emerged at lunchtime, always wearing his natty brown fedora (in summer, a straw one) and a tan raincoat; an hour and a half later, he reversed the process, again closing the door. Not much typing was heard from within, and people who called on Joe reported that his desktop was empty of everything but paper and pencils. When the end of the day came, he went home. Sometimes, in the evening elevator, I heard him emit a small sigh, but he never complained, never explained. While his battle with mental illness continued in the workplace, he was known by his family as a dependable and caring father and husband at home. Therese Jacobson and their children, Nora and Elizabeth, retained nothing but fond memories of their father, even though they knew he was struggling in his career.

In 1995, Mitchell was diagnosed with lung cancer after he began experiencing back pain. The cancer eventually spread and metastasized in his brain. On May 24, 1996, Mitchell died at Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center in Manhattan at the age of 87. He was laid to rest in Floyd Memorial Cemetery in his hometown of Fairmont, North Carolina next to his wife. On his gravestone his daughters inscribed a quote from Shakespeare's seventy third sonnet, one of his favorite lines in literature: "Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang."

Seen throughout Joseph Mitchell's oeuvre is his distinct focus on the underdog characters, or the laymen of NYC, and the focus on unexpected characters. For example, Mazie is a central focus for a New Yorker article bearing her name. “Mazie” first appears in the print edition of the December 21, 1940, issue of The New Yorker. The piece, later published in Mitchell's collection of essays in Up in the Old Hotel, creates and canonizes Mazie, a woman who worked in the ticket booth of The Venice theater. Mitchell's meticulous reporting skills result in an account of Mazie complete with factual details, close observation, and direct quotations. Critics believe Mazie resembles Mitchell himself: they share an affinity for remembering small facts and giving attention to the overlooked members of society. Mazie P. Gordon is tough and blunt. Detective Kain of the Oak Street Police Station declares that Mazie “has the roughest tongue and the softest heart in the Third Precinct. In Mitchell's profile, her life is confined to the ticket booth of the movie theater where she socializes with “bums” that come and go from the surrounding flophouses. Direct conversations detail her interactions with her community. Mitchell was open to taking on the challenge of profiling the female central character of Mazie. The writing process was challenging until his central character would give him “the revealing remark.” The 1938 World Telegram description of Mazie P. Gordon reveals she was known as “Miss Mazie” to the men she interacted with around the Venice Theatre. She is blonde, kind, and has exaggerated hair and makeup. Two years later, when Mitchell profiled Mazie in The New Yorker, some critics called Mitchell an anthropologist in his description. Mazie becomes more than just a blonde and kind woman, and instead is shown to be complex and strong willed. Mitchell's close observation of Mazie set a new standard for writers and reporters. Mitchell's curiosity without judgement inspired writers to continue Mazie's legacy. The character of Mazie is popularized by the novel Saint Mazie by Jami Attenberg. She encountered “Mazie” through Mitchell's collection of his magazine pieces, and used Mitchell's profile to fashion Mazie into a fictional character. Ultimately, Mazie archetypes Mitchell's distinct characteristics that intrigue readers. Mitchell's distinctive voice can be seen in many, if not all, of his works. The most notable example of "Mitchell time" is seen in the story Mr. Hunter's Grave where the narrative tells of the overlapping of many eras occurring in one small location.

Joseph Mitchell was born in North Carolina, yet throughout the majority of his writing career he centered his writing around New York City and its subjects. He brought a distinct and unique style of reporting to NYC that stemmed from his Southern upbringing. Mitchell was said to have brought the ultimate Southern courtesy of accepting “people on their own terms”. Mitchell managed to discover these quaint everyday places as he would often set off to work in his New Yorker office, but instead, he would carry on walking, taking in NYC and its landscape. Indeed, much of Mitchell's work was conceived due to his enchanted meandering of NYC where he “walked the city incessantly . little escaped his notice” "Mr. Hunter's Grave" was republished in one of Mitchell's collections, Up In The Old Hotel, which was released in 1992. The article is based on an encounter Joseph Mitchell had with an African American man named George Hunter, who lived in Sandy Ground, a black community in Staten Island, one that is credited with being the oldest, established, free black community in the United States. This article in particular begins with what one could consider a “typical Mitchell day” and allows for the reader to get closer to Mitchell, in a sense. One day, Mitchell wakes up, admittedly feeling stressed from his surroundings, packs a couple sandwiches, and decides to go down to Staten Island to explore the cemeteries. Mitchell walks the reader through a number of cemeteries he enjoys walking in on days like that day, which include places such as “Woodrow Methodist Church on Woodrow Road in the Woodrow community, or to the cemetery of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church on the Arthur Kill Road in the Rossville community, or to one on the Arthur Kill Road on the outskirts of Rossville” before leading the reader to The South Shore, a more rural part of Staten Island, where trees tend to dominate, and a place where some of the oldest graveyards can be found, (Mitchell). Mitchell continues his exploration of several graveyards, stopping at gravestones, studying them, reading the names off them, and moving vines and dirt from certain ones he ponders upon. Mitchell begins to grow weary, preparing to leave the graveyard off of Rossville until he notices a wildflower that catches his attention, drawn to the grave of a Rachel Dissoway, which is when Mitchell is noticed by the rector of the graveyard, Mr. Brock. The two men discuss Mitchell's interest in wild flowers, particularly peppergrass, which leads to Mr. Brock telling Mitchell about a cemetery in a black community off of Bloomingdale Road. Mr. Brock gives Mitchell the contact of a Mr. G. Hunter, who is the chairman of trustees of the Methodist Church in the community, Sandy Ground, where Mitchell would like to go look for peppergrass. Mitchell, using the information given to him by Mr. Brock, contacts Mr. Hunter, and sets up a time to meet the man at his house that coming Saturday morning, for him to explore Sandy Ground. On Saturday morning, Mitchell arrives at Mr. Hunter's home, where he is greeted by Mr. Hunter, who at the time of his arrival is icing a cake. In the time while Mitchell is at Mr. Hunter's home, Mitchell learns a great deal about the history of Sandy Ground. While in the kitchen, the two men discuss various things, such as the wildflower pokeweed. The older women of Sandy Ground, including Mr. Hunter's mother, believed that its roots had healing properties, even though others generally regard them as poisonous. Following this, there's commentary about what kind of wood Mr. Hunter's house is built of, and talk about how much he despises flies while the two men are sitting on the porch (as well as a discussion about the history of Sandy Ground, which started due to the wanting of oysters). Following the incident with the flies, Mr. Hunter and Mitchell begin their trip to the graveyard. On the way to the graveyard, Mitchell discusses more discussion regarding Mr. Hunter's family and himself, including the fact that Mr. Hunter wasn't born in the South, but his mother was; more so, his mother was a slave from Virginia, and her mother before her. After Mr. Hunter's mother's slavery days, she moved to Brooklyn, where she met and married his father, although after his father served a sentence, the family moved to Sandy Ground, hoping to get work by harvesting oysters. After his father's death, Mr. Hunter's mother married a man from Sandy Ground, who Mr. Hunter did not much care for, but goes into the history of his step family nonetheless. Mr. Hunter then goes on to discuss how he too became a drunk, and several jobs he had such as a bricklayer and a business owner, before marrying his first wife. Mr. Hunter reveals that he was married twice, and lost both his wives. He also reveals that he had a son who died. After this revelation, the two men enter the cemetery. They discuss different roots, some of which Mitchell is familiar with, and one he is not, until they come across a grave that Mr. Hunter says is his Uncle's. Mr. Hunter, while Mitchell explores a little more, works on getting the vines off the gravestone, so the two men can better observe it. Following this, the two men stop at a number of different graves, with Mr. Hunter narrating short life stories of each individual they tend to stop at. The routine of stopping, narrating, and continuing comes to a cease upon the two men reaching Mr. Hunter's plot, where he will actually not be buried due to a mishap, which Mr. Hunter explains clearly and emotionally, admitting it outraged him. Taking two steps further, Mr. Hunter shows Mitchell where he will be buried in all actuality, stating, “'Ah, well, ( ), it won’t make any difference'” ending the article, (Mitchell). The article, like many others acquired a level of scrutiny following the publication of a Mitchell biography written by Thomas Kunkel in 2015. Kunkel's biography brought to light several fascinating facts about Joseph Mitchell's life, however, some of the information opened a wormhole, specifically the revelation that certain pieces of Mitchell's articles were fabricated and the period of time of which the events took place shortened. Many critics, it appears, were distraught, including Michael Rosenwald, a writer for the Columbia Journalism Review. Following the publication of the book, Rosenwald wrote an article entitled, “‘I Wish This Guy Hadn’t Written This Book’”. In this article, Rosenwald explores his own relationship with Mitchell, stating how the man influenced both himself and other generations of writers and how his favorite article by him is "Mr. Hunter's Grave", then goes into his disappointment about what was put in the Kunkel biography, stating, “For me, learning these things was like a kid discovering his favorite baseball player whacked long home runs while juicing on steroids,” showing the betrayal he felt. Rosenwald's article includes the opinion of another well respected journalist, Gay Talese, who Rosenwald is friends with. Upon reading the biography, and hearing about it himself, Rosenwald records that Talese said something along the lines of, “'To hear that one of the guys I grew up admiring did things I don’t think I’d want to be accused of doing, it’s troubling and sad'”. But Ellery is also a kind and thoughtful man. For example, unlike other draggers, he keeps the best lobster he catches for himself and his crew. When the oceanographers from Yale University sail with him on the Eleanor one day a month he flies an “old Yale pennant”. The article closes with Frank, one of Ellery's two crew mates, telling an interesting folk tale. The story is about Old Chrissy, “an old rascal of a woman that was the head of a gang of Block Island wreckers”. The gig was that Chrissy and her crew would lure ships in “with false lights, & they killed the sailors & the passengers, so there wouldn't be any tales told”. On one occasion she unknowingly lures in her own son's ship. But, she chooses to “clout him on the head. ‘A son’s a son,’ she said, ‘but a wreck’s a wreck”.

In Joe Gould's Secret (1965), Mitchell expanded upon two earlier New Yorker profiles, “Professor Sea Gull” (1942) and “Joe Gould’s Secret” (1964), concerning Joe Gould, an eccentric bohemian living in New York City. Following Gould's death, Mitchell embarks on a search for the massive book Gould had long claimed to be writing, An Oral History of Our Time. Mitchell soon learns that the purportedly nine million word work of oral history does not exist. However, he finds that Gould is a popular and central figure within a number of New York circles. Extending Mitchell's abiding concerns with the anti hero and the New York landscape, Joe Gould's Secret also captures the essence of Gould's non existent oral history by preserving the life and voice of Joe Gould. Gould's writing is digressive and self referential; however, Mitchell's writing in Joe Gould’s Secret diverges from his previous works. Mitchell often speaks in first person while offering personal accounts and memories revolving around the plot. Furthermore, Gould's nonexistent “Oral History” is an attempt to capture the voices of the plebeian class, or the anti heroes. Mitchell's entire work, especially Joe Gould’s Secret, captures the selfsame essence. His work often revolves around character study, in which he captures Joe Gould's profile. Gould struggles with writing and rewriting the first few chapters of his “Oral History” because of writer's block. Ironically, Mitchell, himself, is struggling with a degree of writer's block in which he was unable, later in life, to continue his previous writing output.

Critical reviews of Mitchell's works are almost overwhelmingly positive. Many critics have labeled Mitchell "the best reporter in the country" and marked him as the writer with whom "any writer with aspirations in literary journalism has to reckon with," and the writer that "transform[ed] the craft of reporting into art". Critics credit Mitchell's strength as a writer to his "skills as an interviewer, photographic representation of his characters and their speech, deadpan humor, and graceful, unadorned prose style".