[Congressional Record Volume 143, Number 60 (Friday, May 9, 1997)]
[Senate]
[Pages S4277-S4278]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
IN MEMORY OF ANN PETRY
Mr. DODD. Ironically, in the same town of Old Saybrook, CT, we have a
sadder piece of news about a wonderful constituent of my State. Ann
Petry, an African-American writer whose life is described in an article
by David Streitfeld last Saturday in the Washington Post, has died. She
was well into her nineties at the time of her death and was truly a
remarkable person.
Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent to have that article printed
in the Record.
There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in
the Record, as follows:
[From the Washington Post, May 3, 1997]
Ann Petry's Storied Life--Author Left Indelible Mark
(By David Streitfeld)
Ann Petry lived in Connecticut in a 200-year-old sea
captain's house that smelled of old wood and homemade bread.
Her husband, the taciturn but adoring George, was her
constant companion; their one child, Liz, had ended a
promising law career because she wanted to live near her
parents, because she liked them.
It seemed a pretty idyllic way to finish a life. Petry, who
died Monday in a convalescent home at the age of 88, was well
known enough to need an unlisted phone number but not so
famous that people were constantly on her doorstep. She knew
her books would be remembered, and that--along with her
family and friends and the warm spring mornings out in her
garden--provided pleasure. I think she died without regrets,
which has to be unusual.
Petry's family was firmly rooted in Old Saybrook; her
father had opened a pharmacy there in 1902, and Ann was
trained to follow him. As much as possible for a black woman
in the first half of this century, she escaped the effects of
racism.
It was a life in sharp contrast to that of her most famous
heroine, Lutie Johnson in ``The Street.'' Lutie is a single
mother in Harlem in the 1940s who has the misfortune to be
good-looking. White or black, the men
[[Page S4278]]
want only one thing. Lutie tries to protect her 8-year-old
son and her virtue, an impossible task:
``Streets like the one she lived on were no accident. They
were the North's lynch mobs, she thought bitterly; the method
the big cities used to keep Negroes in their place. And she
began thinking of Pop unable to get a job; of Jim slowly
disintegrating because he, too, couldn't get a job, and of
the subsequent wreck of their marriage; of Bub left to his
own devices after school. From the time she was born, she had
been hemmed into an ever-narrowing space, until now she was
very nearly walled in and the wall had been built up brick by
brick by eager white hands.''
``The Street'' was based on the nine years Petry spent in
Harlem, working primarily as a journalist. ``I can only guess
at what she went through when she moved to New York and saw
all those disenfranchised people, totally lacking power in a
way that she and our family never did,'' her daughter once
told me. ``Her way of dealing with the problem was to write
this book.''
``The Street'' was well reviewed when it appeared in 1946,
enough to become a bestseller, and it went on to become a
classic. It will always have a place in literary history
because it was the first book by a black woman to sell more
than 1 million copies, but the real reason it will survive is
because it's good, a triumph of realism.
Sadly, the book is also a measure of how far we have
fallen.
In 1992, when the original publisher, Houghton Mifflin,
bought back the rights and reissued ``The Street,'' it got a
front-page review in the Los Angeles Times Book Review.
Petry's Harlem, Michael Dorris wrote, ``hard as it was, now
seems in some respects almost nostalgically benign. The
streets of New York, as she describes them in the mid-1940's
were indisputably mean to the downtrodden, but in those days
it was still possible for a Lutie Johnson to walk 12 blocks
safely, at midnight, or to ride the last subway alone. It was
a place where the worst thing a child might bring to public
school was a penknife, a place where neighbors tried to watch
out for one another, where violent death was a rare and awful
occurrence.''
After ``The Street,'' Petry wrote in quick succession two
other novels for adults, ``Country Place,'' a story about a
Connecticut town that featured no black characters, and ``The
Narrows'' about a doomed interracial love affair. During the
'50s, she wrote several fiction and nonfiction books for
young people. While ``The Narrows,'' particularly, has its
supporters, her fame primarily rests on ``The Street.''
One of the problems with interviewers is that they ask
pesky questions like ``When are you going to publish a new
book?'' Five years ago, Petry answered that she was working
on things, but I didn't really believe it and I don't think
she expected me to believe it. She had said what she had to
say, and saw no need to obscure it with inferior work. It's a
lesson many other novelists could learn.
Petry had little tolerance for fools or academics, two
categories she regarded as essentially synonymous. From a
1989 interview with a scholar who wrote ``the first post-
structuralist study to reveal a hidden text'' in Petry's
novels:
Q. Richard Wright mentions in ``How Bigger Was Born'' that
he experienced ``mental censorship'' when writing ``Native
Son,'' that he worries about what blacks and whites would say
about Bigger and whether Bigger would perpetuate stereotypes.
How much mental censorship did you experience when you were
writing ``The Street''?
A. None.
Q. Were there ever concerns on your part or on the part of
your editor about ``The Street'' being overshadowed by or
having to measure up to ``Native Son''?
A. No.
When I interviewed Petry in 1992, she said that I should
stop by the next time I was in the area. This is the sort of
thing interview subjects often say; what they really mean is
that they hope you're not going to write something nasty.
They don't actually expect or want you to come visit.
Petry, though, did. So a few times when I was in that
corner of Connecticut I called her up and dropped in for a
couple of minutes. I last saw her about two years ago. She
was a little more stooped but seemed as if she would live
forever. George, who survives her, puttered around and didn't
say much as usual. I walked down the block to the old family
drugstore, where I looked out the window that Petry's father
would look out Sunday mornings to catch a glimpse of his wife
coming back from church.
``Come here,'' he would tell Ann. ``Look at your mother.
Isn't she beautiful?''
Tuesday, I noticed a teenage girl on the Metro reading a
beat-up paperback of Petry's biography of Harriet Tubman.
Although I didn't know it, Petry had died the day before.
Like any good writer, her work survives.
Mr. DODD. Ann Petry's father was a pharmacist who opened up a
pharmacy in 1902 in Old Saybrook, CT. Although she learned the pharmacy
trade from her father, her contribution, of course, was in literature.
Her famous novel, ``The Street,'' written in the 1940's, was a
remarkable piece of journalism that is still read today by younger
generations. She followed that novel with two others that received wide
recognition, ``The Narrows,'' and ``A Country Place,'' about a
Connecticut town that many thought could be Old Saybrook. She wrote a
number of short stories and articles. Ann Petry was truly a very
remarkable person.
She did not have much use for fools and academicians, she once said,
and she said she was usually speaking about one and the same person
when talking of fools and academicians. I do not know that I agree, but
she was a person of curt opinion, straightforward talk, and was well
admired and loved in the town of Old Saybrook. Her contributions to
literature have brightened the lives of many, many people.
We express our sorrow for the loss of Ann Petry.
Mr. DORGAN. Mr. President, my colleague from Ohio has indicated I
should proceed to seek 10 minutes of time, at which point he intends to
resume his discussion. I appreciate his courtesy.
I ask unanimous consent to proceed for 10 minutes.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
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