The Two Faces of Literary Stardom

"The Author as a Brand Name: American Literary Figures and the Time Cover Story" by Joe Moran, in Journal of American Studies (Dec. 1995), Cambridge Univ. Press, Journals Dept., 40 W. 20th St., New York, N.Y. 10011–4211.

In Time magazine’s heyday, to appear on its cover seemed the height of American fame, especially for such obscure folk as novelists, poets, and playwrights. For five decades after its debut issue appeared in 1923, Time made "serious" writers from Sinclair Lewis to John Updike seem as important, in their way, as all the politicians, business executives, and popular entertainers who usually graced the cover. All well and good, perhaps, but the authors themselves, maintains Moran, a doctoral student at the University of Sussex, were often not so happy about it. The sedate painted portraits or sketches on the cover were flattering, as were the stories inside. Time, in those days, was seldom "intrusive" toward its cover subjects. But inclusion in publisher Henry Luce’s steadily expanding gallery of culture heroes had other drawbacks.

The authors often feared—rightly—that the stories would reduce them to stereotypes, Moran says. Time turned Ernest Hemingway into "the man’s man," William Faulkner into "the farmer," John Cheever into "the country gentleman," and J. D. Salinger into "the hermit." Readers unfamiliar with the work of the authors could thus have the illusion of knowing them. But for an author "trying to unpack his heart through the devices of fiction," John Updike explained, it is distressing to learn that "what really counts is the aggrandizement of himself as a figure, a celebrity, a name brand."

In keeping with Luce’s notion of America’s special place in the world, American authors who appeared on Time’s cover "tended to be defined as quintessentially [American] in their personality or subject matter," Moran says. Time lauded Thorton Wilder, for example, for his ability to reproduce "authentic Americana," and approvingly noted that John Dos Passos "attempts to organize [America’s] chaotic, high-pressure life into an understandable artistic pattern." In addition, Moran says, the cover stories showed "an almost obsessive interest in the details of the writer’s popular commercial success," with nary a hint that artistic excellence might sometimes go commercially unrewarded.

Authors sometimes did say no. In 1954, Faulkner’s publisher urged him to agree to a new cover story in order to boost sales of The Fable. Faulkner, who had been "honored" in this way by Time once before, responded by asking for an estimate of "what a refusal would cost Random House," saying he would gladly write his publisher a check to avoid the "distinction."

Time had the "initially admirable" belief that culture was as much "news" as political and social events were, Moran says. But its cover stories "helped to create a kind of literary ‘star system,’ " a forerunner of today’s blockbuster-oriented publishing scene in which a few "celebrity authors" receive vast amounts of money and publicity, while many "serious" authors find it hard even to get their books commercially published.