In my mind, Mark Twain's 'The Mysterious Stranger,' a work posthumously published and not without controversy in 1916, stands as a testimony to the long celebrated literary figure's nostalgic motif that has been stuffed in the back of the collective American subconscious. That is, many have heard of the author by name only and so he remains the politically incorrect writer identified as the man standing next to Einstein in a historical line-up. Upon closer examination of 'The Mysterious Stranger' the author's persona begins to move and take form. One hasn't to read much of the story to realize that Twain is not just a gifted writer but a captivating force that draws you into another world that he created, an illustratively magical world that unlocks the mysteriousness of the stranger. Thumbing the pages, one loses himself in a lucid account of familiar characters hewn together in a timeless landscape revealing, quite beautifully, his mastery of the English language, a criticism for which Twain, to his credit, never outgrew.
Continuing, Twain develops in the characters a stunning array of complexity and wonder offering, amidst a balanced and amusing cast, a pair who diametrically compliment one another. Shadowed behind the interaction of these characters we uncover Twain's brilliant cynicism that is so often accused of tainting the condition of mankind. A character whose actions are dictated by uncompromising adherence to a set of ethics or morals, usually determined by an active and superfluous force i.e. popular opinion, religious order or societal prejudice etc., find themselves prey to a series of occurrences which challenge their position. Twain provides this noticeable tension typically in a manner that is palpable and poignant often engaging the reader to shoulder this weight and in some insipid way we end up sympathizing with the villain, or worse. In this work we find evidence of a humble philosopher vying the plight of cause and effect. Twain’s ability to cast light on the apparent struggles inherent in the human condition is questioned through the perspective of the ‘mysterious stranger.’
‘Well, I will tell you and you must understand if you can. You belong to a singular race. Every man is a suffering-machine and a happy-machine. Two functions work together harmoniously, with a fine and delicate precision, on a give-and-take principle. For every happiness turned out in one department the other stands ready to modify it with a sorrow or a pain – maybe a dozen. In most cases the man’s life is about equally divided between happiness and unhappiness. When this is not the case the unhappiness predominates- always; never the other. Sometimes a man’s make and disposition are such that his misery-machine is able to do nearly all the business. Such a man goes through life almost ignorant of what happiness is. Everything he touches, everything he does, brings a misfortune upon him. You have seen such people? To that kind of a person life is not an advantage, is it? It is only a disaster. Sometimes for an hour’s happiness a man’s machinery makes him pay years of misery. Don’t you know that? It happens every now and then.’[1]
Reading further, we understand the mysterious stranger to argue the mechanics of man to be utterly foolish because they are built on the small trivialities of vanity, feelings and ambition. The mysterious stranger argues that man lacks intelligence and provides fair examples to aid his conclusion inevitably ending with their short-sightedness, yet another product of the human condition. Since man cannot see into the future he will never know good fortune from ill. An interesting concept indeed when one stops to consider the gravity of this sort of circumstance, which he did. By now in case you have been wondering, the character of the mysterious stranger is an angel, actually, as some of the preceding thoughts imply. From this vantage, Twain is able to address some of the quandaries that mystifies himself, like the agency of what becomes of a man after he has lived here on this earth, especially when his position is full of misery.
“I have changed Nikilaus’s life; and this has changed Lisa’s. If I had not done this, Nikolaus would save Lisa, then he would catch cold from his drenching; one of your race’s fantastic and desolating scarlet fevers would follow, with pathetic after-effects; for forty-six years he would lie in his bed a paralytic log, deaf, blind, and praying night and day for the blessed relief of death. Shall I change his life back?”[2]
Of course, this condition is off-set rationally by the angel. What is comprehensible and sound is not always apparent to these creatures who possess only Moral Sense. What is gained from pre-mature death in this condition could be understood in this manner, consider the fate of another,
“What you are thinking is strictly human-like, that is to say, foolish. The woman is advantaged. Die when she might, she would go to heaven. By this prompt death she gets twenty-nine years more of heaven than she is entitled to, and escapes twenty-nine years of misery here.”[3]
The meddling only continues as a contrast. Another character, Ficsher, is affected positively from this experience. Instead of being riddled with trouble and die at an early age, Fischer now ‘lives to be ninety, and have a pretty prosperous and comfortable life of it, as a human lives go.’[4] We can’t help but feel relieved for Fischer to some degree. It seems that up until this point the mysterious stranger has an insufferable maniacal streak that should not let up; as famous as Twain’s wit is, we must also account for its endurance. Maybe Twain's wit deserves more credit on account of his religious skepticism where it embraces cause-and-effect because Fischer’s post mortal state left him far from the ‘pearly gates.’
Finally, we are faced squarely with Twain’s nostalgic motif, well, perhaps just a reflection of it; one that is mysterious because it is lucid and unfamiliar and hides in back of the American subconscious. To say that we have broadened our scope of Twain’s intrigues and nuances within his work would be considered a grave misunderstanding. However, it would be incorrect to state that his critical analytical thought is charming. Make no mistake Twain could find some pretty incredible things to say about controversial issues, even through some of the most innocent characters,
‘Mark Twain spoke his mind about slavery and race relations “in the mouth and in the mind of an illiterate 11-year-old boy. Jim is one of the greatest human creations in all of literature. And so is Huck. But Huck is more than that. Huck is the source of the modern American writer, of which Hemingway is an example. Huckleberry Finn … inspired the modern American novel.’ — Herman Wouk[5]
What I find interesting about Twain is the manner in which he approached his own biographical narrative. Evidently, he allowed his memory, the published works, to be sown in the field of American culture for some time. It was allowed room to grow and flourish for decades in the minds and hearts of readers to the extent that it had a legitimate chance to weather the changing climates of social, political and religious struggles.
“My books are water; those of the great geniuses is wine. Everybody drinks water."[6]
And now we are here at the threshold of one man’s utterance from the grave. Celebrating the 100th year of his departure from this life, we stand face-to-face with a man who was patient enough to satisfy the enduring curiosity of others with his own pen.
The ‘Autobiography of Mark Twain’ will be released as a three volume series beginning with the first release in 2010 and the words will be relished by some like a glass of vintage wine, one sip at a time.
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