Searching for my groove

I’m an author without a subject, a writer without a project. And it makes me antsy. For days I’ve had this slightly dissatisfied, uncomfortable feeling. I don’t even have a book to read that rivets me—one that interests me, yes, but not one that draws me at odd hours of the day and keeps me up too late. One result? I’ve been spending way too much time on Facebook, following the drama in D.C. and the U.K. both. Beyond that, I’m irritated with myself for idling away time. I think what I’ve done every day is what many retirees do all day every day, but my old Protestant work ethic is slapping me in the face.

But today, I’ve done something about it. I’ve begun some background reading, and already I’m narrowing my interests. The history of women in the nineteenth century has long been my major interest, particularly the women of the American West. In the 1990s I wrote four books about strong women married to husbands or attached to men who were flawed in one way or another—Elizabeth Bacon (Libby) Custer, Jessie Benton Frémont, Lucille Mulhall (Cherokee Rose), and Etta place with her ties to both Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.

My more recent title, The Gilded Cage, sprang from my Chicago background, but it also drew me to a woman married to a robber baron. Bertha Honoré (Cissy) Palmer, married to Potter Palmer, builder of the Palmer House in Chicago and one of the handful of men who directed that city’s fortune in the last half of the nineteenth century.

Today I started reading The Gilded Age, a critical study of several individuals written by Milton Rugoff. I read about some women of the period, principally abolitionists and suffragists, and while both those causes interest me, I decided those weren’t the women I want to write about. I’m turning my attention to the wives of the Gilded Age—women married to robber barons. Were they weak, submissive—or was there some steel in their backbones? The last half of that century fascinates me in many ways—the world was still reeling from the transition from agrarian to urban society, and the roles of women were changing dramatically. It was a time of terrific social upheaval.

So, I’m back to being a student of the Victorian era, and I love it. Who knows if something will come of it or not? At least for a few days I feel a purpose driving my days again, and I’m a happy camper.

Lovely dinner tonight celebrating my friend Betty’s birthday—shh, I’m not saying which one. She and her husband own the Star Café in the Fort Worth Stockyards and entertained fourteen of us for supper. As is our custom, Betty and I split chicken-fried steak—so good. And good to see people I really enjoy.

Today is Bastille Day—an easy way to remember Betty’s birthday. But it is also a day when we celebrate the French Revolution and, in simple terms, the rise of the people and the fall of the monarchy. What I most remember about that event is being forced to read A Tale of Two Cities in high school and hating how bloody it was. And then hating how long the book was. But today, in this time of political turmoil, I think it’s instructive to consider radical, sudden change in government in contrast to the way it’s supposed to work here when the people make their will known. It’s a cautionary tale that would urge all of us to vote this fall.

Chicago's Gilded Age

I'm living in Chicago's nineteenth-century Gilded Age right now as I rewrite my historical novel. Once titled Potter's Wife, I think it will now be titled "The Gilded Cage." The story of Potter Palmer, who created the Palmer House hotel, and his society-born wife, Bertha (Cissy) Honore, is set against the background of Chicago's fascinating history. The Great Fire, the Haymarket Riot, and, finally, the 1893 Columbian Exposition. It was an era of tremendous wealth on the part of a few and abject poverty on the part of too many. Potter Palmer was a capitalist who believed that any man could achieve the wealth he had--he didn't realize how extreme poverty holds a man down. His wife, Cissy, was one of the first to recognize the social obligations of great wealth, and she worked at Hull House, had poor young woman into her house for cooking lessons, took food and clothing to those less fortunate than she, and ultimately was the president of the Exposition's Board of Lady Managers.
I'm fascinated by all this. I grew up on Chicago's South Side, not too far from the Midway created for the Exposition --it's where I learned to ice skate--and I attended the University of Chicago, which sits on the edge of the Midway. The history of Chicaago is part of my life story.
I'm noticing great parallels between that age and ours: the wealthy got wealthier, and the poor suffered incredible hardship--working ten or twelve-hour days for a pittance. Cries for shorter work hours and pay raises went unheeded by capitalists like Palmer, Marshall Field, Gustavus Swift, Philip Armour, George Pullman--all names famous in industrial history. So far, our situation today is less desperate but I can see how despair leads to civic uprising...and it makes me pause for thought.
Propriety was a big thing in those days--women of fashion did not bob their hair or wear bloomers nor protest for women's rights. Potter Palmer was always afraid his wife would become a suffragette. And Cissy, social-minded though she was, enjoyed the luxuries of wealth--I'm amazed at the ease with which these people traveled to New York City and to Europe. Chicago was also trying to prove itself to the East, where the Gilded Age flourished and people thought Chicago was still a rough outpost on the plains.
Fascinating stuff. If you can't wait for "The Gilded Cage," read Renee Rosen's What the Lady Wants, a novel about Marshall Field. And then read "The Gilded Cage" when it's published--sorry, no pub date yet. But I am really enthusiastic about this work. Thanks for letting me share.