Louis Untermeyer—

Newtown’s Leading Literary Man Was Key In Establishing The Historical Society

By Jan Howard

One of the key figures in the creation of Newtown Historical Society in 1962 was the late poet and anthologist Louis Untermeyer, believed by many to have been one of the world’s most outstanding literary figures of the 20th Century.

A charter member of Newtown Historical Society in 1962, Mr Untermeyer expressed himself as being “proud to be one of the founders of the society.”

He was one of several residents who met that year to explore the possibility and advisability of starting a historical society in Newtown. Paul Smith, editor and publisher of The Newtown Bee at the time, was elected temporary chairman and Frank Johnson, grandson of the first town historian, Ezra Johnson, was temporary secretary.

As the speaker of the first official meeting of the society on June 14 in The Alexandria Room of Edmond Town Hall, Mr Untermeyer said he was pleased a historical society was being formed and was much interested in it.

He read a prepared statement in which he outlined the purpose, value, and some goals he thought a historical society should accomplish.

Then, in what The Newtown Bee described as his “usual entertaining humorous vent,” Mr Untermeyer read several passages from The General History of Connecticut by Rev Samuel Peters. He took delight in giving the author’s descriptions of several animals of an earlier era, such as the whoppernocker and the cuba.

In 1967 Mr Untermeyer was the master of ceremonies at a gala performance at Edmond Town Hall, “Stars in Daytime,” to benefit the historical society.

In addition to his role in the creation of the historical society, Mr Untermeyer also gave particular support to Cyrenius H. Booth Library and Newtown Arts Festival.

He and his fourth wife, Bryna Ivans, who he married in 1947, lived in an 18th Century farmhouse on Great Hill Road. The house was first used as a weekend residence, and eventually became his permanent home. He was married five times, twice to the same woman.

Though he was a poet, Mr Untermeyer was best known for his anthologies. In his introduction to the anthology Modern British Poetry, he wrote, “All art is a twofold revivifying — a recreation of subject and a reanimating of form. And poetry becomes perennially ‘new’ by returning to the old — with a different consciousness, a greater awareness.”

Mr Untermeyer first spotted the poems of an unknown Robert Frost in a London quarterly in 1913 and began a longtime friendship with the poet that continued for half a century. In 1963 he directed a recording session in Decca Studio of Robert Frost Reads Robert Frost. A collection of their letters, which included holographs and typed copies of Frost’s poems from 1915 to 1958, was presented to the Library of Congress.

Mr Frost wrote of Mr Untermeyer in 1947, “No friend has ever released me to such letter writing.”

Mr Untermeyer read his friend’s poetry “Frostiana,” a series of seven country songs set to music by Randall Thompson, in Newtown Choral Society’s spring concert in May 1970.

One number in the concert was Mr Untermeyer’s poem, “Prayer For This House, which included the lines “—and though these sheltering walls are thin, May they be strong to keep hate out and hold love in,” and which The Newtown Bee noted could “well be a prayer for our times.”

Mr Untermeyer, who was born in New York City on October 1, 1885, never graduated from high school. At age 17, he went into his family’s jewelry manufacturing business for a career that lasted more than 20 years.

In 1919 he issued the pioneering Modern American Verse, which enjoyed immediate success. It was the first major attempt to present to readers the important works of the modernist movement in America.

Mr Untermeyer published his first book of poetry in 1911. By 1922 he had published several volumes of poetry and parody. In 1922 he also had published his two-volume anthology, Modern American and British Poetry.

Mr Untermeyer held left-wing political views and helped run the Marxist journal The Masses. Like most people involved with the journal, he believed that World War I had been caused by the imperialist competitive system. He and journalists such as John Reed, who reported the conflict for The Masses, argued that the United States should remain neutral.

After the United States entered the war, the team working on The Masses came under government pressure to change its policy. When it refused to do so, the journal lost its mailing privileges.

In July 1917, authorities claimed that articles in the journal had violated the Espionage Act, under which it was an offence to publish material that undermined the war effort. Legal action that followed caused The Masses to cease publication. Mr Untermeyer and others went on to publish a similar journal, The Liberator.

In 1923 he left as vice president of the family business to pursue his career in literature. He was most influential as a selector of the best works of others, such as those of Mr Frost. Over the next 50 years, he wrote, edited or translated more than 100 books, including several volumes of his own poetry. Approximately 150 of his publications were cataloged at the Library of Congress from 1947 until his death in 1977.

Despite his lack of a high school education, Mr Untermeyer was Phi Beta Kappa poet at Harvard College and lectured on poetry, drama and music in this and other countries. In 1939, he was appointed Poet in Residence at the University of Michigan and held the same post at the University of Kansas City and Iowa State College.

For 20 years he was the chairman of the group that reviewed poetry for the Pulitzer Prize in Poetry, and from 1961 to 1963 he was poetry consultant to the Library of Congress, and editor of Heritage American Poets series. In 1954 he was awarded the Gold Medal for services to poetry by the Poetry Society of America.

In March 1962 the Washington issue of Holiday magazine published a half-page photo of him at the time of his appointment at the Library of Congress.

Among his best-known books are eight volumes of original poetry and books for young readers, such as The Kitten Who Barked. His autobiography, From Another World, was published in 1939.

During World War II, Mr Untermeyer served as senior editor in the Office of War Information and editor of the Armed Services editions.

In addition to his other talents, he was an entertaining speaker and in 1950 became a panelist on the television show What’s My Line, which also featured columnist Dorothy Kilgallen, publisher Bennett Cerf, and Arlene Francis. The panelists would try to guess the occupation of a studio guest by asking the fewest possible questions in a brief time, punctuated by wisecracks and banter.

Of Mr Untermeyer’s skill at playing the game Arthur Miller once said, “Louis was a lovable master.”

Mr Untermeyer continued to be active in campaigning for left-wing causes and as a result the FBI had been collecting a file of his activities. His name was also mentioned during the House Un-American Activities Committee investigation into communist subversion. This was brought to the attention of the television industry, and in 1951 he was fired from What’s My Line and blacklisted.

Like many left-wing artists during this period, Mr Untermeyer became a victim of McCarthyism. According to Mr Miller, Mr Untermeyer was so shocked by this that he did not leave his home in New York for more than a year.

Mr Untermeyer was described by Mr Miller in Timebends — A Life as a “distinguished-looking old New York type with a large aristocratic nose and a passion for conversation.”

In May 1954 Mr Untermeyer delighted Newtown Rotary Club with an after-dinner speech on the subject “Do Americans Speak English?” His lecture addressed speech, customs and manners, and the difference between Americans and the British.

Mr Untermeyer answered his own question by saying, “They do not, and thank God,” adding that “Americans speak American,” because all nations find their own tongue.

During his speech, he poked good-natured fun at the British, describing that when he ordered crackers and cheese in England, he was told that crackers were out of season, but the waiter would try to obtain them. He got the crackers and cheese, but the crackers turned out to be American party snappers.

In September 1963, The New York Times headlines reported, “Fanny Hill Book Defended As Art. Louis Untermeyer Denies It Is Pornographic As Trial Banning It Opens.” The story quoted Mr Untermeyer on the merits of the 18th Century novel Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure.

“I don’t approve of all of Fanny’s act,” he said of the book’s heroine, “but I don’t approve of the acts of all my friends either.”

At the start of his testimony, he was asked whether he was a poet or a critic.

“A critic — yes,” he replied, “A poet? That’s questionable.”

Asked later about the outcome of the trial, which lifted a monthlong ban on the book, Mr Untermeyer said it was rather unexpected but that he was pleased the decision went the way it did.

In 1963, he and his wife Bryna went to Japan on an official State Department sponsored visit for a series of lectures, seminars and conferences in various cities. He took part in a two-week seminar in Kyoto at the Center for American Studies, presenting lectures on the poetry of Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost, and others.

On October 1, 1970, he celebrated his 85th birthday at a gala “Anthologists’ Repast” at Tavern on the Green, sponsored by several publishers including Harcourt Brace and Simon & Shuster. Ms Francis and Mr Miller were among the speakers.

In remarks that day, Mr Untermeyer said, “I wish that I could grow old — older — believing that the best is yet to be … But age, not withstanding, I cannot resign myself to the crippling divisiveness, the widespread injustices, and accumulating cruelties rampant in my country…”

In closing, he said, “What saves me from the slough of despond and keeps me going is a delight in the senses, all five of them, and first and most compelling of all, an undying [so far] curiosity. I dread to hear of man’s latest inhumanity to man; but I cannot curb myself from looking forward, with a mixture of apprehension and hope, to the headlines in tomorrow’s Times.”

Mr Untermeyer died on December 18, 1977, at his home in Newtown at the age of 92.