My great fortune last week was stumbling over a bunch of old issues of Victoria Magazine at the Friends of the Library used book sale. I should write a post on the magazine alone, and what it meant to me over the years. It was discontinued in the early part of this decade, and has recently been published again by a different company and editor, attempting to be faithful to the early format, as a bi-monthly magazine. I have purchased a few issues, but overall, it fails to capture what the original did. In my earlier lament about Victoria’s Secret, I had originally planned to include the magazine as part of the whole “Victoria” stuff of my life that I miss, that is to say, this imaginary ideal of beauty, class, intelligence.
I digress.
Flipping through the April ‘99 issue last evening, I came across a fabulous pictorial entitled “Well Dressed and Set to Sleuth Nancy Drew”. And lo, here are several pages of models representing Nancy and her friends Bess and George. And as I am ogling the cashmere, houndsooth and charcoal grey suits, and lovely ankle strap pumps, and wondering why I don’t dress that way, it occurs to me that I have given little thought to the one person who inspired my addiction to the written page.
Let me take this opportunity to thank you, Mildred Wirt Benson.
Writing under a ghost name Carolyn Keane, Benson was responsible for the first twenty three novels that began the series. Under the direction of Edward Stratemeyer, Wirt crafted the first books which are arguably the best of the series. In doing so, she introduced the world to the 16 year old sleuth, who was remarkably independent for her time, feisty, wealthy, and had the perfect social life with two best friends, and a part time beau.
I was at a slumber party when I first discovered Nancy. Looking through my host’s bookcase, my eyes roamed over the Woulks, Sheldons, Wallaces, until they lit upon four or five hard bound novels with yellow spines. The one I pulled out revealed a young woman in a dark passage making her way up a staircase. The title told me that it wasn’t just any staircase, but that it was hidden. A hidden staircase? I had stumbled upon one such hidden stairway years ago at my parochial school; I had followed it up to what I was sure was going to be little known place of mystery. Alas, it led to the nursery. Now, however, the same tingle of curiosity and excitement flowed through me as I flipped through the pages, studying the illistrations and their captions. Later that day, my godmother allowed me to borrow all of the novels (her own daughter wasn’t a reader) and I was hooked. I argue that reading was one of the things that saved me in my brutal intermediate and middle school environment, and the Keane books were the door of escape. Nancy was clever, beautiful, confident, and offered me secret places to hide from bullies.
I understand the entire series was edited in the fifties, and revised (it is said that this was to remove racist stereotypes), so that if one wishes to read Benson’s original representation of the character (who later editors deemed too outspoken, too young, and not demure enough) one must turn to the originals, at least two of which can be found published by Applewood Books. Of further interest, is the life of the orginal author herself, much of which is documented marvelously at the University of Iowa Digital Library Collection at digital.lib.uiowa.edu (you can even review her college yearbooks!). No demure violet herself, Mildred was the first woman from University of Iowa to earn a master’s degree in journalism, wrote her entire life, traveled the world, and earned a commercial pilot’s license when she was in her fifties. She passed away in 2002, at the age of, and she was still writing.
Mildred, you inspire me today, as your creation inspired me as a child.
I digress.
Flipping through the April ‘99 issue last evening, I came across a fabulous pictorial entitled “Well Dressed and Set to Sleuth Nancy Drew”. And lo, here are several pages of models representing Nancy and her friends Bess and George. And as I am ogling the cashmere, houndsooth and charcoal grey suits, and lovely ankle strap pumps, and wondering why I don’t dress that way, it occurs to me that I have given little thought to the one person who inspired my addiction to the written page.
Let me take this opportunity to thank you, Mildred Wirt Benson.
Writing under a ghost name Carolyn Keane, Benson was responsible for the first twenty three novels that began the series. Under the direction of Edward Stratemeyer, Wirt crafted the first books which are arguably the best of the series. In doing so, she introduced the world to the 16 year old sleuth, who was remarkably independent for her time, feisty, wealthy, and had the perfect social life with two best friends, and a part time beau.
I was at a slumber party when I first discovered Nancy. Looking through my host’s bookcase, my eyes roamed over the Woulks, Sheldons, Wallaces, until they lit upon four or five hard bound novels with yellow spines. The one I pulled out revealed a young woman in a dark passage making her way up a staircase. The title told me that it wasn’t just any staircase, but that it was hidden. A hidden staircase? I had stumbled upon one such hidden stairway years ago at my parochial school; I had followed it up to what I was sure was going to be little known place of mystery. Alas, it led to the nursery. Now, however, the same tingle of curiosity and excitement flowed through me as I flipped through the pages, studying the illistrations and their captions. Later that day, my godmother allowed me to borrow all of the novels (her own daughter wasn’t a reader) and I was hooked. I argue that reading was one of the things that saved me in my brutal intermediate and middle school environment, and the Keane books were the door of escape. Nancy was clever, beautiful, confident, and offered me secret places to hide from bullies.
I understand the entire series was edited in the fifties, and revised (it is said that this was to remove racist stereotypes), so that if one wishes to read Benson’s original representation of the character (who later editors deemed too outspoken, too young, and not demure enough) one must turn to the originals, at least two of which can be found published by Applewood Books. Of further interest, is the life of the orginal author herself, much of which is documented marvelously at the University of Iowa Digital Library Collection at digital.lib.uiowa.edu (you can even review her college yearbooks!). No demure violet herself, Mildred was the first woman from University of Iowa to earn a master’s degree in journalism, wrote her entire life, traveled the world, and earned a commercial pilot’s license when she was in her fifties. She passed away in 2002, at the age of, and she was still writing.
Mildred, you inspire me today, as your creation inspired me as a child.
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