Appendix — A Book Named "John Cleland's Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure" v. Attorney General of Massachusetts

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SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

OCTOBER TERM, 1965

No. 368

A BOOK NAMED “JOHN CLELAND’S MEMOIRS OF

A WOMAN OF PLEASURE”, G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS

(INTERVENOR), APPELLANTS,

Vs.

ATTORNEY GENERAL OF THE COMMONWEALTH

OF MASSACHUSETTS.

APPEAL FROM THE SUPREME JUDICIAL COURT OF MASSACHUSETTS

INDEX

Original Print

Record from the Superior Court, within and for the

County of Suffolk, Commonwealth of Massachu-

setts, No. 82126 Eq.

Petition 1 1

Opinion, Hudson, J. that there is reasonable cause

| to believe that a book, ete. 2 2

| Order of notice directed against a book ete., re-

turuable Marek 19, 1964 3 3

Motion of the Attorney General for an inter-

es locutory finding and adjudication and allowed 5 5

| Interlocutory finding and adjudication —___. 6 5

Answer of G. P. Putnam’s Sons, Intervenor 6 6

Request for report of evidence and designation

of stenographer and allowed —.-___________. 8 7

|

ReEcorD PrREss, PRINTERS, NEW York, N. Y., NOVEMBER 12, 1965

INDEX

Original Print

Record from the Superior Court, within and for the

County of Suffolk, Commonwealth of Massachu-

setts, No. 82126 Eq.—Continued

Transcript of testimony, May 27, 1964 10 8

Appearances 10 8

Colloquy between court and counsel re Exhibit

A ll 8

Testimony of John E. Collins—

direct 13 10

cross 19 15

Offer of Proof—Exhibit 1—Photostatic copy

of Page 2, The New York Times Book Re-

view, July 28, 1963, containing column en-

titled, “Speaking of Books,” by J. Donald

Adams __.. 28 24

Offer of Proof—Exhibit 2—Article entitled,

“The MHarlot’s Progress,” by V. S.

Pritcheti, from October 31, 1963 edition ‘

of The New York Review of Books -._. 31 27

Offer of Proof—Exhibit 3—Article entitled,

“Mersey Sound, 1750,” by Brigid Brophy,

from November 15, 1963 issue of “New

Statesman”, page 710 36 33

Offer of Proof—Exhibit 4—Item bearing

sub-heading “Taste” under the heading

“Modern Living’ from August 2, 1963

issue of TIME Magazine 41 38

Petitioner rests 44 40

Testimony of Fred Holly Stocking—

direct 45 41

cross 48 44

redirect 58 52

John M. Bullitt—

direct 59 53

cross 64 57

redirect 69 62

recross

INDEX

Record from the Superior Court, within and for the

County of Suffolk, Commonwealth of Massachu-

setts, No. 82126 Eq.—Continued

Transcript of testimony, May 27, 1964—Continued

Testimony of Robert H. Sproat—

direct

cross

redirect

Norman N. Holland—

direct

cross

redirect

Colloquy between court and counsel re exhibits

Testimony of Walter Minton—

di ‘ect

Ira Konigsberg—

direct

cross

Argument by Mr. Rembar oan

Argument by Mr. Sullivan —

Stenographer’s certificate (omitted in printing)

Findings of fact, ruling of law and order for

final decree

Final decree

Claim of appeal of intervener, ee Putnam’s

Sons

Certificate and order of Trial Judge as to ex-

hibits under Rule 6

Proceedings in the Supreme Judicial Court for the

Commonwealth of Massachusetts #86543

Opinion, Spalding, J.

Opinion, dissenting, Whittemore, J.

Opinion, dissenting, Cutter, J. ss

ee —aeeee .

Docket entries

Original Print

69 63

73 66

76 69

77 70

81 74

84 77

85 78

90 82

92 84

102 93

103 94

107 98

109 100

110 100

124 117

125 118

126. 118

129 120

129 120

141 125

147 127

155 130

159 131

+ ee athe Aa

iv INDEX

Original Print ;

Record from the Superior Court, within and for the

County of Suffolk, Commonwealth of Massachu-

setts, No. 82126 Eq. 161 132

Final decree after rescript 161 132

Docket entries 167 133

Notice of appeal to the Supreme Court of the

United States by G. P. Putnam’s Sons, Inter-

venor 173 137

Judge’s certificate and Clerk’s certificate thereto

(omitted in printing) 185 140

Clerk’s certificate (omitted in printing) 187 140

Order noting probable jurisdiction 188 141

a

(fol. 1]

IN THE SUPERIOR COURT WITHIN AND

FOR THE COUNTY OF SUFFOLK,

COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS

No. 82126 Eq.

Epwarp W. Brooxe, Attorney General,

v.

A Boox Namen, “JoHN CLELAND’s Memorrs oF A WoMAN OF

PieasuRE” (ComMonLy Known as Fanny Huu).

Petition—Filed February 10, 1964

Respectfully represents your petitioner, Edward W.

Brooke, of Newton, in the County of Middlesex, and Com-

monwealth of Massachusetts, that he is the Attorney Gen-

eral of Massachusetts; that there is reasonable cause to

believe that a book named “John Cleland’s Memoirs of a

Woman of Pleasure” (commonly known as Fanny Hill)

is being imported, sold, loaned, or distributed in the Com-

monwealth; and that said book is obscene, indecent and

impure ; that the name of the publisher and copyright holder

of said book is G.P. Putnam’s Sons of the City of New

York, and the author is John Cleland.

Wherefore, your petitioner prays

1. that an order of notice issue directed against said book

named “John Cleland’s Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure”

(commonly known as Fanny Hill) and of all persons in-

terested in the publication, sale, loan, or distribution thereof,

[fol. 2] and to the publisher, copyright holder and author

thereof as required by law to show cause why said book

should not be judicially determined to be obscene, indecent

and impure.

3 &

2. that this Honorable Court make an interlocutory

finding and adjudicate that said book is obscene, indecent

and impure.

s

3. that this Honorable Court enter a final decree ad-

judging said book to be obscene, indecent and impure.

4, for such other and further relief as appears mete and

just in the premises.

Edward W. Brooke, Attorney General, By: Walter

Jay Skinner, Assistant Attorney General.

Oprnion oF Justice oF Superior Court Tuat Tuere Is

REASONABLE CausE TO BeELievE THat a Book Namep

“JoHN CLELAND’s Memoirs oF 4 WoMAN OF PLEASURE”

(Commonty Known as Fanny Hutz), Is Opnsceng, In-

DECENT AND IMPURE AND ORDER FOR ISSUANCE OF ORDER OF

Notice—Entered February 10, 1964

Upon the filing of the Petition of Honorable Edward W.

Brooke, Attorney General of the said Commonwealth ad-

judicating that the book named “John Cleland’s Memoirs

of a Woman of Pleasure” (commonly known as Fanny Hill),

which Petition is incorporated herein by reference, I,

Eugene A. Hudson, a Justice of the Superior Court of said

Commonwealth, in accordance with the provisions of Gen-

eral Laws, Chapter 272, Section 28C as amended, examining

[fol. 3] said book (marked “A”) by reading and studying

its entire contents and I am of the opinion that there is

a reasonable cause to believe that such book is obscene,

indecent and impure, therefore, it is Ordered that an Order

of Notice issue returnable on Thursday, March 19, 1964,

directed against said book named “John Cleland’s Memoirs

of a Woman of Pleasure” (commonly known as Fanny Hill),

and addressed to all persons interested in the publication,

sale, loan or distribution thereof, to show cause why said

book should not be judicially determined to be obscene,

indecent or impure.

7

3

Said Order of Notice should be given by publication once

each week for three (3) successive weeks in a daily news-

paper, published in the City of Boston, and a copy of said

Order of Notice shall be sent by Registered Mail to the

Publisher and copyright holder of said book whose name

appears on said book as G. P. Putnam’s Sons of the City

of New York, fourteen days at least before said return

day of the Order of Notice.

Eugene A. Hudson, Justice of the Superior Court.

Orper or Notice Drrectep Acarinst A Book Namep “JoHN

CLELAND’s Memoirs oF A WoMAN OF PLEASURE” (Com-

MONLY Known as Fanny Hitt)—Entered February 10,

1964

To All Persons Interested in the Publication, Sale, Loan

or Distribution of a Book Named, “JoHn CLELAND’s Mem-

orrs oF A WomaN or PLEAsuRE” (commonly known as Fanny

Hill):

Whereas a Petition in Equity has been begun in our

Superior Court for the County of Suffolk reading as fol-

lows:

[fol. 4j “PETITION

Respectfully represents your petitioner, Edward W.

Brooke, of Newton, in the County of Middlesex, and

Commonwealth of Massachusetts, that he is the At-

torney General of Massachusetts; that there is reason-

able cause to believe that a book named “John Cleland’s

Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure” (commonly known

as Fanny Hill) and marked Ex. A is being imported,

sold, loaned, or distributed in the Commonwealth; and

that said book is obscer.2, indecent and impure; that

the name of the publisher and copyright holder of said

book is G. P. Putnam’s Sons of the City of New York,

and the author is John Cleland.

Wherefore, your petitioner prays

1. that an order of notice issue directed against said

book named “John Cleland’s Memoirs of a Woman of

Pleasure” (commonly known as Fanny Hill) and of all

persons interested in the publication, sale, loan or dis-

tribution thereof, and to the publisher, copyright holder

and author thereof as required by law to show cause

why said book should not be judicially determined to be

obscene, indecent and impure.

2. that this Euiorable Court make an interlocutory

finding and adjudicate that said book is obscene, inde-

cent and impure.

3. that this Honorable Court enter a final decree

adjudging said book to be obscene, indecent and impure.

4. for such other and further relief as appears meet

and just in the premises.

Epwarp W. Brooke

Attorney General

By: Watter Jay SKINNER

Wa ter Jay SKINNER

Assistant Attorney General”

And on February 10, 1964, Hon. Eugene A. Hudson, a

Justice of the Superior Court filed a statement, as appears

[fol. 5] in the files of said case, that he had examined said

book as required by G. L. Chapter 272, s. 28C and was of

opinion that there is reasonable cause to believe that said

book is obscene, indecent or impure: And ordered the issu-

ance of this order of notice.

Now therefore, We Command You that on the nineteenth

day of March, 1964, which day is the return day of this

order of notice, you appear and show cause, if any you have,

why said book should not be judicially determined to be

obscene, indecent or impure.

Hereof fail not, at your peril, as otherwise said petition

may be adjudged and orders and decrees entered in your

absence.

5

And it is ordered that the petitioner shall serve this

notice by the publication thereof once each week for three

successive weeks in a daily newspaper, published in the

City of Boston, and by sending by registered mail a copy

thereof to the Publisher and copyright holder of said book

whose name appears on said book as G. P. Putnam’s Sons

of the City of New York, fourteen days at least before said

return day of the Order of Notice.

By the Court, (Hudson, J.), Francis P. Concannon,

Assistant Clerk.

Motion or ATTORNEY GENERAL FOR AN INTERLOCUTORY

FinpING AND —ADJUDICATION

Now comes Edward W. Brooke, Attorney General of the

Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and moves that this Hon-

orable Court make an interlocutory finding and adjudication

that said book “John Cleland’s Memoirs of a Woman of

Pleasure” (commonly known as Fanny Hill) is obscene,

indecent and impure.

Edward W. Brooke, Attorney General, By: Walter

Jay Skinner, Assistant Attorney General.

February 10, 1964, Filed and allowed. (Hudson, J.)

[fol. 6]

INTERLOCUTORY FINDING aNnD ADJUDICATION—

Entered February 10, 1964

This cause came on to be heard at this sitting upon the

Motion of the Attorney General, and after issuance of an

Order of Notice, in accordance with the provisions of G. L.

Ch. 272, Section 28C as amended by Chap. 278 Section 1 of

Acts of 1945, and after hearing thereon the Court makes an

Interlocutory Finding and Adjudication that the book,

“John Cleland’s Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure” (Com-

monly known as Fanny Hill), (marked Ex. A) is obscene,

indecent and impure.

By the Court, (Hudson, J.), Francis P. Concannon,

Assistant Clerk.

Answer or G. P. Putnam’s Sons, INTERVENER—

Filed March 19, 1964

Now comes G. P. Putnam’s Sons, a New York corpora-

tion, hereinafter referred to as the intervener, and answers

the petition in this case as follows:

1. The intervener admits that Edward W. Brooke is the

Attorney General of Massachusetts, that the book against

which this proceeding is brought was on or about the date

of the filing of this petition imported, sold and distributed

in the Commonwealth, that the intervener is the publisher

and holder of the copyright of said book, and (further an-

swering) that it is interested in the sale, loan or distribution

of said book, and that John Cleland is the author of said

book.

2. The intervener denies that said book is obscene, in-

decent or impure, and further answering says that:

A. The sale and distribution of said book is protected

by the First Amendment to the United States Constitution

as applied to the States by the Fourteenth Amendment;

[fol. 7] and the application of G.L. Chapter 272, Sections

28 C-H, if it results in an adjudication that said book is

obscene, indecent or impure, is unconstitutional under the

First and Fourteenth Amendments to United States Con-

stitution. An adjudication, the effect of which would be to

impede or prevent the sale or distribution of said book,

would be an unconstitutional deprivation of rights guaran-

teed to the intervener by the said First and Fourteenth

Amendments to the United States Constitution.

B. An actual controversy exists between the Attorney

General and the intervener because the Attorney General

intends to suppress the sale and distribution of said book,

and such suppression will result in less and damage to the

intervener and its customers. The adjudication which the

Attorney General seeks will impede and prevent the sale

and distribution of said book, and the interlocutory ad-

judication heretofore made in these proceedings has al-

ready had this effect. Such adjudication and the interlocu-

7

tory adjudication heretofore made will result, and such

interlocutory adjudication has already resulted, in loss and

damage to the intervener and its customers.

Wherefore, the intervener prays that this Court

1. Adjudicate, pursuant to G.L. Chapter 272, Sections 28

C-H, that the book against which this proceeding is brought

is not obscene, indecent or impure.

2. Enter a decree, pursuant to Chapter 231A of the

General Laws, declaring that the sale and distribution of

said book is protected by the First Amendment to the

United States Constitution as applied to the States by the

Fourteenth Amendment; that the application by the Attor-

ney General of G.L. Chapter 272, Sections 28 C-H, if it

results in an adjudication that said book is obscene, inde-

cent or impure, or any other attempt by the Attorney Gen-

eral to suppress the sale or distribution of said book, is

unconstitutional under the First and Fourteenth Amend-

ments to the United States Constitution; and that any ad-

judication, the effect of which would be +o impede or prevent

the sale or distribution of said book, would be an uncon-

stitutional deprivation of rights guaranteed to the inter-

vener by the First and Fourteenth Amendments to the

United States Constitution.

[fol.8] 3. Grant such other and further relief to the in-

tervener as may be appropriate.

G. P. Putnam’s Sons, By its attorneys, Reuben Good-

man, Charles Rembar.

Attest: Francis P. Concannon, Ass’t. Clerk.

Request FOR Report oF EvmimeNcE AND DESIGNATION OF

STENOGRAPHER—May 27, 1964, Filed and Allowed by

the Court. (Macaulay, J.)

Now comes G. P. Putnam’s Sons Intervener and requests

that the evidence in the above-entitled case be reported to

the full court of the Supreme Judicial Court and that a

8

stenographer be designated and sworn by this Honorable

Court for such purpose.

By its attorneys, Reuben Goodman, Charles Rembar.

Attest: Albert F. Henneberry, Ass’t. Clerk.

[fol.9] In the above entitled case, at the hearing of the

same it is ordered by the presiding justice (Macaulay, J.)

that Mary H. Kevill be, and she hereby is, designated to

report the testimony in said case, to the Supreme Judicial

Court.

Attest: Albert F. Henneberry, Asst. Clerk.

May 27, 1964.

[fol. 10]

Transcript of Testimony—May 27, 1964

APPEARANCES:

John E. Sullivan, Esq., Assistant Attorney General, for

the petitioner ;

Charles Rembar, Esq., and Reuben Goodman, Esq., for

the intervener, G. P. Putnam Publishing Company.

[fo]. 11]

CoLLoquy Between Court aNnp CounseEL Re Ejxursit A

The Cour.: At the opening of the case, there was a bench

conferen“e, at which time Mr. Charles Rembar of New York

was given leave to try the case in behalf of the intervener,

and he has filed his appearance.

Mr. Goodman: May the stenographer be appointed com-

missioner to take testimony?

The Court: The request for a commissioner is granted

and the stenographer is authorized to take testimony.

Mr. Goodman: I have drafted an order that she be ap-

pointed to taxe testimony.

The Court: I aon’t think it is necessary.

Mr. Sullivan: Tnere is a stipulation of counsel that this

is the same book tliat was in issue before Judge Hudson.

CT Te ee

- ~

—— gt ee

The Court: Why can’t that book go in as Exhibit A?

Mr. Rembar: No reason why it shouldn’t.

The Court: Do you want to see if it is the right one?

Mr. Goodman: The hard cover and paperback are iden-

tical. They both have the same introduction.

The Court: That couldn’t be because in the foreword of

this book here, it gives some history about New York liti-

gation after the hard cover book came out.

Mr. Rembar: What I meant was that everything that is

in the hard cover is in here, and this has the additional

comment. '

The Court: That may be marked Exhibit A.

[fol.12] (Paperback book entitled, “Fanny Hill, John

Cleland’s Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure,” is marked

Exhibit A.)

Mr. Rembar: Some of my witnesses have been reading

this edition and some have been reading the hard cover.

Will the references be the same?

Mr. Sullivan: I have never seen the hard cover book,

so I can only assume and take your statement that it is,

except for the introduction, the same book.

Mr. Goodman: It is, Mr. Sullivan.

Mr. Sullivan: On that condition, that it is the same book,

saving the introduction, I will not object on that ground.

Mr. Rembar: Saving the introduction which deals with

the New York litigation. The Peter Quennell introduction

is in both books.

Mr. Goodman: Would you like us to submit a copy of

the hard cover?

The Court: I don’t try cases. I would merely like to

observe, however, that I have read fully the brief that was

submitted last night, and I did read a passage in there

wherein the intervener asks that the whole book, including

the foreword and this Mr. Quennell’s comment, be consid-

ered in determining the issues in this case.

Mr. Rembar: Yes, we do ask that, your Honor, and, so

far as that is concerned, the hard cover and the paperback

are identical. This is the book in evidence.

10

The Court: With the exception of this history of the

New York litigation?

Mr. Rembar: Yes, sir.

[fol.13] Jouwn E. Cotiins, Sworn.

a

By Mr. Sullivan:

Would #6u give the Court your full name, please?

. John E. Collins.

Your residential address?

. 157 Stratford Street, West Roxbury.

How are you presently engaged, Dr. Collins?

. Iam Headmaster of the Newman Preparatory School.

How long have you served in that capacity?

. Four months.

. Would you give the Court your educational back-

ground, starting from the secondary school?

A. I graduated from Boston College in 1925 with a B.A.

degree. I have a Master of Arts degree from Boston Uni-

versity, 1926. I have a Doctor of Philosophy degree from

Boston College, 1936. I did graduate work at Harvard and

at Oxford.

Q. How have you been employed since the completion

of your education or during your education?

A. I was a classroom teacher at the Boston Latin School

for twenty-two years. I was head of the English Depart-

ment at the State College at Boston for sixteen years, as

well as dean, academic dean and dean of the graduate

school, until February Ist of this year, when I came to

Newman Preparatory School. My area is English litera-

ture.

Q. In connection with your profession, have you lec-

tured?

A. That has been my life.

Q. Prepared articles?

A. Yes.

OPOpopopo

11

Q. Contributed articles?

A. Yes.

Q. Have you read the book commonly called “Fanny

Hill”?

A. Yes, sir.

{fol.14] Q. In your opinion, is this book obscene, Doctor?

Mr. Rembar: If I may, your Honor, I object to that

question. It calls for a conclusion of law. It deals with

the ultimate determination that this Court must make, and

it is not the subject of testimony.

The Court: You don’t object as to his qualifications?

Mr. Rembar: I don’t know what he has been qualified

for, your Honor. I object to his qualifications insofar as

they may be thought to make him an expert on matters of

law.

The Court: What do you offer him for?

Mr. Sullivan: For his literary expert opinion. I have

no basis of this gentleman knowing the law.

Mr. Rembar: The last question, it seems to me, is not

a question which deals with the literary merits, or lack of

merit, in this book. The word “obscene”, as your Honor

knows, is a legal concept, a constitutional concept. The

opinions of the United States Supreme Court and the opin-

ion of the Supreme Judicial Court of this state in the

Tropic of Cancer case have made that very clear.

The Court: I can recognize that the legal concept of

what obscene means is one thing; however, a concept of

what obscene means in literature has some bearing on de-

termining what the legal concept of obscene means.

I will allow him to answer.

Mr. Rembar: May I have an exception, your Honor?

The Court: Exception noted.

Q. I will repeat the question, Doctor. In your opinion,

is the book commonly known as “Fanny Hill” obscene?

A. Yes.

[fol.15] Q. In your opinion, is the book indecent?

A. Yes.

12

Mr. Rembar: I make the same objection to that question,

your Honor.

The Court: I take it as a motion to strike the answer.

The motion to strike is denied and your exception to it is

noted.

Mr. Rembar: Thank you.

Q. In your opinion, is the book impure, Doctor?

Mr. Rembar: Same objection, your Honor.

The Court: Objection denied.

Mr. Rembar: Exception.

The Court: Exception noted.

Q. You may answer the question.

A. Yes.

Q. Do you have an opinion whether or not this publica-

tion appeals to prurient interest?

Mr. Rembar: Same objection, your Honor.

The Court: Objection denied.

Mr. Rembar: Exception.

The Court: You don’t object to that, does he have an

opinion? -

Mr. Sullivan: I am only asking whether he has an

opinion.

The Court: That would be just Yes or No, whether he

has an opinion.

Mr. Rembar: That’s correct.

{fol.16] The Court: You may answer. Do you have an

opinion?

Q. You may answer if you have an opinion.

A. You are asking me the difference between good and

bad?

Q. I am asking you whether or not this publication would

arouse prurient interest in a person or persons who read

it?

Mr. Rembar: This is not “Have you an opinion?”

The Court: That is a different question than the one

you asked before. The question before was, “Do you have

an opinion whether this book has prurient interest,” pru-

13

rient character, or something like that. That can be an-

swered Yes or No. Has he an opinion?

Q. Do you have an opinion?

A. Yes.

Q. In the light of the fact that you do have an opinion,

would you kindly state to the Court your opinion on

whether or not this publication would arouse prurient in-

terest in a reader or readers of this book?

Mr. Rembar: Objection, your Honor.

The Court: Objection denied.

Mr. Rembar: Exception.

The Court: Exception noted.

A. My subjective opinion, unconditionally, yes.

Q. You have recited that you have been in the literary

field for some twenty-two years, Doctor?

A. More than that.

Q. More than that. Do you have an opinion whether or

not this book has any literary merit?

A. I have an opinion.

Q. Would you give the Court that opinion?

A. It lacks literary merit.

[fol.17] Q. Do you have an opinion whether or not this

| publication has any social importance?

) A. I would have to make a speech to answer that.

Q. Well, first of all, Yes or No?

| A. Yes, I have an opinion.

| Q. What is that opinion, Doctor?

. A. Well, when I read the book, I attempted to judge it

merely from the point of view of a human document, some-

what like “Nana” or “Sister Carrie”, but I couldn’t find

that it had any social significance nor any literary style

| that might lift it up beyond pornography.

Q. You said the word “pornography”?

A. Yes, sir.

Q. Do you have an opinion whether or not this book is

pornographic?

A. Yes.

14

Q. What is that opinion, Doctor?

A. It is pornographic.

Mr. Rembar: I object to that, your Honor.

The Court: Objection denied.

Mr. Rembar: Same reason. Exception.

The Court: Exception noted.

Q. Are you familiar with the phrase, “hard core pornog-

raphy”?

A. To a degree.

Q. To the degree that you are familiar with the phrase,

would you classify this publication within hard core por-

nography?

Mr. Rembar: Same objection, your Honor.

A. In my opinion,—

The Court: Just a moment.

Of course, that term “hard core pornography” you took

out of the decision of the Supreme Judicial Court.

[fol.18] Mr. Rembar: By the same token, your Honor,

the term “a prurient interest” is taken out of the Supreme

Court decision.

The Court: “Prurient” is a word of many years’, hun-

dreds of years’, usage. I will allow him to answer.

Exception noted.

The Witness: May I have the question again?

Q. The question is, in view of your familiarity within

certain bounds of the term “hard core pornography,” is

this book in your opinion within the bounds of your un-

derstanding of that phrase?

A. Yes.

Q. Did you find the book offensive, Doctor?

A. Yes.

Q. Would you go so far as to say you found the book

patently offensive?

Mr. Rembar: I object to that question, your Honor.

Th re again, there is a precise legal formula developed

— — ee

a oe eee

15

by the United States Supreme Court to express a legal

conclusion, in the case of Manual Enterprises.

The Court: I know, but aside from the legal definition

of “patently offensive”, it might be a literary definition

of it, or understanding. In that sense, I think the question

is admissible.

I will allow it.

Mr. Rembar: Exception.

The Court: Exception noted.

Q. You may answer the question.

A. Yes,

Mr. Sullivan: Your witness, gentlemen.

[fol. 19] Cross examination.

By Mr. Rembar:

Q. Is it “Doctor”?

A. Yes.

Q. Dr. Connors?

A. Collins.

Q. Doctor, could you tell me what the Newman school

is? I am a stranger here.

A. It is a preparatory school for boys.

Q. Is it denominational?

A. It is run by Catholic laymen.

Mr. Sullivan: I object and ask the answer be stricken.

The Court: Objection denied.

Q. If I heard you correctly, you said you had been Head-

master for a matter of four months?

A. Correct.

Q. Do you teach at the school?

A. No, sir.

Q. Had you been a teacher before you became Head-

master?

A. Where?

Q. Anywhere.

A. Yes.

16

Q. What courses did you teach?

A. Well, the English novel; comparative study of the

novel; contemporary novel; three courses in Shakespeare;

a course in biography—do you want a list of them all?

I could go on forever if you want. I have been around a

long time.

Q. Are you familiar with the English novels of the 18th

century?

A. Yes, sir.

Q. Which of the 18th century novelists do you rate

highest?

A. I don’t rate any of them highest. I could give you

five or ten names. I refuse to put one as supreme above

twenty others.

Q. Would you name two or three that you regard as

outstanding?

‘A. Richardson, Fielding, Jane Austen, Defoe, if you

[fol. 20] want to call him a novelist—I presume that’s where

you are building, anyway; and Smollett and Sterne, Edge-

worth Fanny Burning. Go ahead.

Q. You testified in answer to a question put over my

objection that you regard the book which is in issue here

as appealing to prurient interest?

A. That’s correct, sir.

Q. What do you understand by the word “prurient”?

A. Do you want to try Webster?

Q. I want to know what you had in mind when you an-

swered the question.

A. Well, I can start with the word “dirty”. I ean go

on with the word “sexual”; I can go on with “esoteric”.

Q. Esoteric?

A. Yes. I can add “erotic”, in other words, for the pur-

pose of stimulating sexual reactions.

Q. So that if a book could be described as erotic, you

would also describe it as prurient?

A. Those words are not synonyms in every case. They

may be and they may not be; you have to have a particular

incident and a particular case.

aa —_

|

17

Q. Well, could you give me an example of a book that

you would regard as predominantly erotic that you would

not regard as predominantly prurient?

A. Why, yes. Zola’s “Nana”.

Q. That book is erotic in the sense that it stimulates a

sexual response in the reader, is that what you mean?

A. To a degree, but it has other literary merit. It lifts

it up above and beyond the word “prurient”.

Q. I see.

A. It is a human document.

Q. Correct me if Iam wrong. As I understand what you

are saying now, it is that there are books that are erotic

in the sense that—

A. Well, now, yes. Certain parts of “The Arabian

Nights”, for example, may be.

[fol. 21] Q. Certain parts of the Bible?

A. Yes, there are many cases where the words—

Q. The answer was Yes to that?

A. I don’t know what the question was.

Q. I said, certain parts of the Bible.

A. Yes. That’s an oldie.

Q. But nevertheless true. Well, let me put my question

to you again because I am just trying—

A. You are trying to distinguish between the two words,

correct?

The Court: Just let him ask the question and you answer

it.

Q. I want to know if I am correct in summarizing what

you have been saying just now as follows: that there are

certain books which you would deem ervtic because they

stimulate a sexual response in the reader, but which you

would not call prurient because they have certain literary

merits or literary values?

A. Well, I wouldn’t condemn the whole book as erotic.

I say there may be passages and parts in it which may be

that.

Q. You know you have to consider the book as a whole,

so let’s say that there is a book that has these passages and

18

parts which stimulate this sexual response in the reader,

but the book also has some literary merit. How do you

designate that book?

A. Masterpiece.

Q. You also answered affirmatively to the question

whether the book in issue is obscene. How do you define

that word?

A. Disgusting.

Q. Obscene equals disgusting?

A. I will go along with that for a while. Go ahead.

Q. You say for a while you will go along with that?

A. Well, if you start refining it, I will have to start re-

fining.

Q. Don’t you think we ought to refine these terms? After

all, the publication of a book is at stake here.

A. Yes, I understand.

[fol.22] Q. There are books, of course, and I think you

would agree with this—at least I want to know whether you

do—that don’t treat of sex at all, but which the reader

might find repellent or, in your word, disgusting?

Mr. Sullivan: Objection, your Honor.

Mr. Rembar: I am asking if he agrees with this.

Mr. Sullivan: Is this a question?

A. I think the question is a little obscure.

Mr. Sullivan: Is this a narrative or is this an interroga-

tion?

The Witness: I don’t understand him.

The Court: I think you better rephrase the question,

please.

Q. Do you know of any books that do not deal with sexual

subject matter that you could call disgusting?

A. Offhand, I wouldn’t say so, no. I don’t think that point

is at issue, but go ahead.

Q. The judge will decide what points are at issue, but as

of now you say that the word disgusting is confined to books

that deal with sexual subject matter?

A. For the time being, yes.

Q. And those books you would call obscene?

A. Yes.

19

Q. Another question to which you answered affirmatively

was whether the book at issue is indecent, and I would ask

you again what you mean by that word?

A. Well, I would say that it was contrary to public mores,

to the customs of the people and the common standards

of a given time and a given place.

Q. Tom Paine’s “Common Sense”, would that fit your

definition ?

A. I don’t think so.

[fol. 23] Q. Another term that was used on direct ex-

amination was the term “patently offensive”, and you said

that this book is patently offensive. Does that have any

different meaning from these other words we have been

discussing?

A. Well, I believe patently means open, doesn’t it?

Q. It means “on the face of it”, I think, yes.

A. Offensive—it is merely another way of picturing the

same thing. You said that is in a Supreme Court phrase.

Q. In your opinion, is Henry Miller’s “Tropic of Cancer”

patently offensive?

. You.

Is it indecent?

Yes.

Does it appeal to prurient interest?

Yes.

Is it obscene?

Yes.

When did you read the book in issue last, Dr. Collins?

. Last night, first and last.

. Could you give me a brief recapitulation of the story

in the book?

A. Well, I don’t see how I could without being patently

offensive.

Q. You are in a court of law, Dr. Collins. I am sure you

will be excused.

A. Well, autobiography of a girl that comes from the

country up to London and gets herself into a brothel and

goes through the various adventures of, first of all, Les-

OPOPOPOPOD

tae

20

bianism, and with detailed descriptions of sexual actions.

That’s about all I could find in the book.

Q. Does she ever get out of the brothel?

A. Well, I should say no, she doesn’t get out of the

problem, no.

Q. Out of the brothel, I said.

A. Oh, yes.

Q. She does. How?

A. Well, originally, she is taken out by one of her cus-

tomers.

[fol. 24] Q. And what happens then?

A. Well, it goes on the same—

Q. It is not the same. She is out of the brothel now.

What does she do? ;

A. Well, she rides in a coach and so forth and she has

various adventures.

Q. Do you recall who it is with whom the heroine has

her first sexual encounter?

A. I believe the lady’s name is Phoebe, in the very first

chapter, as I remember it.

Q. Do you recall at this time that the heroine, correct

me if I am wrong, is a very young girl as you said before?

A. Fifteen.

Q. Fifteen. Does she comment on this experience later?

A. She comments on it. One time later she was very

grateful to that girl for introducing her to this situation.

That’s in the early part of the book.

Q. Can you point that out in the book?

A. I haven’t got it annotated. I would have to go through

the whole book to go after this.

Q. Well, the Court will read the book. It won’t be neces-

sary.

A. All right.

The Court: I read the book. Page 16.

The Witness: I took no notes.

Mr. Rembar: Page 16, your Honor, is the page on which

the incident occurs. I was asking for a reference support-

ing Dr. Collins’ statement that she is very grateful to this

21

woman who has taken advantage of her youth. That was

the question. I will leave it to your Honor’s further ex-

amination.

The Court: I recall something; I can’t give you the page.

Q. Do you recall, Dr. Collins, that the heroine, thinking

back on this incident, refers to it as foolery and resolves to

[fol. 25] have no more such experiences in her life?

A. I remember something like that. I don’t remember—

I couldn’t quote it.

Q. How about her first sexual experience with a man?

With whom does that take place?

A. Well, some old rake. I don’t know whether his name

is even in there.

Q. An old rake, you say?

‘A. An old rake who had—it was not completed, as I re-

member, on her part.

Q. With whom does she first actually have sexual inter-

course?

A. Now, let’s see. It was with this young man who

rescued her, as it were, from the brothel.

Q. Do you remember his name?

A. No, I don’t.

Q. You read the book last night, though?

A. Yes.

Q. Does the book end with Fanny Hill married or un-

married? :

A. She was married.

Q. To whom?

A. Idon’t remember now.

Q. You don’t remember?

A. No, not now. I didn’t take notes on it.

Q. It didn’t impress you, did it, that the man who is her

husband at the end of this book is the same young man

with whom she had her first sexual experience?

A. Wait a minute. You lost me on that. I think you are

right, and that that was supposed to be the moral in it.

Q. The moral in it is considerably more complicated than

that.

* 22

The Court: Just a moment. Is that a statement, or what

is it?

Mr. Rembar: I will withdraw that, your Honor.

The Witness: I tried to find—

[fol. 26] The Court: Just a moment. It was not a ques-

tion.

Q. You are familiar, are you, Dr. Collins, with The New

. York Sunday Times Book Review section?

A. Yes.

Q. Do you recall that on Page 2 there is generally a

column by J. Donald Adams?

js. ae

Q. I would like to ask you whether you agree with this

statement by Mr. Adams.

Mr. Sullivan: Objection, your Honor.

Mr. Rembar: I think, your Honor, it is proper cross-

examination where a man has given opinion testimony to

ask whether he agrees with a published opinion on the same

subject.

The Court: It is hearsay, isn’t it?

Mr. Rembar: I am merely asking him whether he agrees,

besides which, the Supreme Judicial Court, in the Tropic of

Cancer case, considered such material admissible and highly

relevant.

The Court: I don’t think your statement of what ap-

peared in The New York Times is to be considered as evi-

dence. If you just want to test the knowledge of this wit-

ness, I will let you ask the question.

Mr. Rembar: I will ask Mr. Sullivan to concede, not the

relevance, but the authenticity of this page of The New

York Sunday Times Book Review.

Mr. Sullivan: Counsel has gone over this before, your

Honor, and I have no objection to the authenticity, that this

is a certain page out of The New York Times, but I do

wish to enter my objection on its relevancy and materiality.

The Court: Let me see it.

What statement? It is kind of long.

———

23

[fol.27] Mr. Rembar: I was about to read it to the

witness.

Shall I point it out to your Honor?

The Court: The whole thing?

Mr. Rembar: Yes.

(The Court reads article silently.)

The Court: This is getting in evidence the opinion of

another witness not under oath. I don’t think it is proper.

It is this witness’ opinion of how good Cleland was as a

writer, or how bad he was, his belief.

I will exclude it.

Mr. Rembar: May I have an exception, your Honor?

The Court: Exception noted.

Mr. Rembar: In order to save time, I would like to

make—

The Court: Offer of proof?

Mr. Rembar: Offer of proof of this and three pieces of

documentary evidence as to which I assume the objection

of my brother will be the same and the Court’s ruling will

be the same.

The Court: Of course, what you pointed out was the

opinion of somebody else.

Mr. Rembar: Yes, sir.

The Court: You asked that it get in evidence by asking

the witness if he agrees with the opinion of that gentleman.

I will accept it as an offer of proof, and it may be marked

for identification No. 1, offer of proof.

[fol.28] Mr. Rembar: May I submit a photocopy?

The Court: No objection if it is a photostatic copy?

Mr. Sullivan: No, your Honor.

The Court: The photostatic copy may be received as an

offer of proof.

(Photostatic copy of Page 2, The New York Times Book

Review, dated July 28, 1963, containing column entitled,

“Speaking of Books,” by J. Donald Adams, is marked Ex-

hibit 1 for Identification.)

24

Offer of proof:

Speaking of Books

By J. Donald Adams

-Today’s column derives from two recent charges of liter-

ary obscenity: the first a ruling by the New York State

Court of Appeals, by a vote of four to three, describing

as “flagrantly obscene” Henry Miller’s “Tropic of Cancer”;

the second, a similar charge brought by Corporation Coun-

sel Larkin and the district attorneys of the five counties of

New York City, against John Cleland’s “Memoirs of a

Woman of Pleasure,” better known to many generations of

readers simply as “Fanny Hill.” Miller’s book led an under-

ground life for 30 years after its publication abroad in

1931; it was not published here until 1961. Cleland’s book

first appeared in London in 1748 or 1749, and has led a

similar life for nearly two centuries. It was first published

in this country last spring.

As every reader of current fiction knows, so far as book

publication is concerned, the bars are now completely down

in the matter of a writer’s choice of language. Newspapers

and most magazines still exercise, in varying degree, a

measure of self-censorship. So do some book publishers,

but no four-letter word is banned from publication if the

[fol. 29] publisher, whether of newspapers, magazines or

books, chooses to pass it. Government censorship enters the

picture only when a work is judged to be obscene. In effect,

it is not the words which matter, but the intention with

which they are used. “Tropic of Cancer” is full of four-

letter words, but by a unanimous decision the Supreme

Court of California upheld Miller’s right to use them be-

cause “There is no authority in the court to act as censors

of artistic expression.”

To my mind, a writer should be free to use any word in

the language. Where he uses it, in what circumstances, and

how often, are matters on which the ruling must be made

by his own taste, or if he has none—as too many writers

have not—by his editor, agent, or publisher. The whole

25

responsibility lies among them, and it is their obligation to

exercise it, if official censorship is to be avoided.

So far, the issue seems to be clear-cut. But when we

come to the question of what is obscene, the line cannot

easily be clearly drawn, if, indeed, it can be drawn at all.

There is a strong subjective element here, and what is

obscene to you may not be obscene to me. To some persons,

certain passages in the Bible are obscene; many schools,

wrongly, in my estimation, use expurgated editions of

Shakespeare’s plays. It is time we were quit of all this

Comstockery.

Cleland was not a great writer, but he was a gifted one,

and in my belief as much entitled to call himself an artist

as Henry Miller. The chief difference between them is that

Cleland presented normal sexual relations for what they

are—the intensest pleasure man derives from his senses;

Miller makes them revolting. I would prefer to have a child

of mine read Cleland rather than Miller.

There are, not that it matters, no four-letter words in

Cleland: There is characterization which Miller has never

achieved; there are sound moral pronouncements, which he

has never made. Cleland offers a vivid social picture of his

time—overstated at times, to be sure—but which is basically

as true as the drawings of his contemporary Hogarth. As

Peter Quennel suggests, the book is properly seen as one of

the reactions, in an outspoken age, to the sanctimonious,

[fol. 30] sentimental and slyly prurient novels of Samuel

Richardson, whose “Pamela” provoked Fielding into writing

the same story in reverse, “Joseph Andrews”—in which a

young man protects his chastity as zealously as Richard-

son’s heroine. Furthermore, Cleland emphasizes the fact

that the sex relation, when informed by love, rests on a

higher level than when it is a purely animal reflex—a

distinction which many of today’s novelists decline to make.

So much for Cleland’s merits as a writer. And the de-

merits? He was well aware of the pitfalls waiting for any

novelist who writes in explicit terms of physical love—for

he says “there is no escaping a repetition of near the same

26

images, the same figures, with this further inconvenience .. .

that the words, joys, ardours, transports, extasies and the

rest of those pathetic terms... flatten and lose much of

their due spirift_and energy by the frequency with which

they indispensably recur.” Many of his pages become

wearisome, but one must admit that in stating why they

do, he spoke as an artist.

Many of our current writers including Miller, Jones, and

O’Hara, might ponder that statement with profit. I agree

with Mr. Quennell that Cleland’s book “seems to be far less

subversive and demoralizing than not a few of its 20th

century counterparts,” and that in it “we escape the nau-

seating modern mixture of sexual appetite and criminal

violence.” I do not deny that “Fanny Hill” can shock some

tender sensibilities, but I do not regard it as an evil book.

Mr. Rembar: The three other pieces of documentary evi-

dence to which I refer, your Honor, are the October 31,

1963 issue of The New York Review of Books; Page 710

of the New Statesman of November 15, 1963; and a page

whose number I do not have, of the issue of TIME Maga-

zine of August 2, 1963, headed “Modern Living”’.

Mr. Sullivan: May we just take these down, your Honor,

so we will have a record?

The Court: Do you have objection to their admission?

Mr. Sullivan: I have, your Honor.

Mr. Rembar: Exactly the same offer and objection.

{fol.31] The Court: This one in The New York Review

is an opinion of a writer concerning the book who is not

present in court. It is hearsay. I will exclude it, and to

that you take an exception?

Mr. Rembar: Yes, sir.

The Court: That may be marked for identification as part

of an offer of proof, No. 2.

(Article entitled, “The Harlot’s Progress”, by V. S.

Pritchett, contained in the October 31, 1963 edition of The

New York Review of Books is marked Exhibit 2 for Iden-

tification.)

27

Offer of proof:

The Harlot’s Progress

V. S. Pritchett

Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure by John Cleland.

Putnam, 319 pp. $6.00; paperback $.95

Every age gets the pornography it deserves. The people

who are now making a fuss about Fanny Hill, John Clel-

and’s Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure, do nothing about

the real pornography of today—the incitement to violence,

torture, maiming, and killing, often topped up with sexual

perversity, which are presented with a sickening kind of

pleasurelessness, on the screen of television and cinema and

in pulp fiction. It can be suggested (as Havelock Ellis once

did) that some kinds of pornography are socially useful;

they may allay evil desires by acting as a sort of imaginative

distraction. They may lead us away from action into harm-

less fantasy. Whether this is so or not, the real test is not

what the average man thinks; it is the test of artistic merit,

and if he is called upon to judge, it is the average of man’s

duty to find out what artistic merit is. He will find himself

considering man’s often brilliant exploration of his own

imagination. Nothing could be more horrifying and inciting

to sadistic action than those terrible pictures of Goya’s

called “The Fantasies” and “The Disasters of War”; how-

ever, one sees, at once that Goya’s art transmutes them and

places them in that area of our minds where the difficult but

indispensable moral and civilizing process can operate. The

[fol. 32] same transmuting process can be seen in the treat-

ment of the classical but surely sordid encounter of Leda

with the Swan; in the brothel paintings of Toulouse-Lautrec,

in the pathos and laughter of Maupassant’s “Maison Tel-

lier.” I believe one can see it also in that minor amatory

exercise, “Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure’. No one is

asked to say how meritorious an artist is in these matters,

but it is essential for the transmutting element to be recog-

nized.

28

Since 1749 when it was first published in London, many

sensible people have thought that “Memoirs of a Woman of

Pleasure,” usually known as Fanny Hill, had this element.

It has its place in the history of literature, not in the history

of smut. Smut never lasts. The story is obviously inflaming,

but even “Jane Eyre” or “Lorna Doone” inflames. Fanny,

a country girl abandoned in London, describes how she

enters a select brothel—note the word “select”—and goes

into prolonged, detailed descriptions of several kinds of

sexual adventure and intercourse. In doing so, however, she

never utters an obscene word, rarely descends even to col-

loquialism, never to the clinical; she indeed writes an

elaborate literary language that would do credit to any

master of baroque and poetic utterance—shall we say Henry

James?—spoken in a drawing room. And it is not shabby

baroque. The disconcerting thing about the book—as a

piece of “pornography”—is that it has charm. Many have

thought the intercourse of the sexes brutal even when

blessed by the Church; more refined and indeed naturally

sensitive or passionate people have found the very opposite.

Fanny belongs to the latter category. She is healthy, warm-

blooded, delights in her senses, is unashamed in curiosity,

and is distinctly self-aware. She is unrepentant in pleasure

or lust; but she truthfully perceives—and this, I believe,

without the sort of hyprocrisy that greater writers like

Defoe or Richardson insinuated—that she had physical

pleasure in lust but physical spiritual pleasure in love.

Having made a lot of money in her enforced profession

about which, in the true practical spirit of the eighteenth

century, she is complacent, she marries her first lover: a

success story that can be said to be a smack in the face for

Clarissa or Pamela.

No one pretends that John Cleland approaches the range

or power of Defoe or Richardson as a novelist. His book is,

[fol. 33] on the other hand, the nearest thing we have to

an English “Manon Lescaut”. But he must be seriously

discussed with these writers by the literary critic, for he

brings to life an important element in eighteenth-century

29

morality and feeling. Two influences clearly bear on his

mind. The first is accidental. Residence in Smyrna as

British Counsel and later in Bombay appears to have

removed from Cleland the morally ruthless, brutal, or comic-

brutal attitude to sexual life which is so strong in the

aggressive Anglo-American traditions. (Charm, tender-

ness, a concern for manners in love are pronounced in

Oriental works like “The Arabian Nights” and, despite the

clinical dog-Latin of timid translators, in “The Golden

Lotus”.) But the strongest influence on Cleland is that

concern for the reform of manners which is the most power-

ful force in the English novel during the eighteenth century.

Part of this spirit of reform was the expression of Pur-

itan ambition or—more accurately—of the beginnings of

middle-class respectability ; it began under William III who,

like most Dutchmen of that time, was appalled by the bar-

barity of English social life. The other part was directed

to polish, elegance, the refinement of sensibility, and making

men and women physically clean and conversible. In the

end, the former hardened into hypocrisy and the latter into

arid artifice and eventually false sentiment. Especially does

the spirit of reform, and the social revolution accompany-

ing it, affect the status of women who begin to emerge as

the custodians of society and, at last, of their own persons.

Defoe’s Roxanna becomes a greedy kept mistress, because

she is determined to be as free as any merchant and to be

as much master of her person and property as any man.

Defoe’s Moll Flanders, thief and doxy and calculating for-

nicator, sins for one motive only: to attain respectability.

She ends as the first Mrs. Grundy of Virginia. Her morality

and remorse—like Mrs. Grundy’s—are amiable but suspect.

Though frank about their sexual experiences, these ladies

take it as it comes and are incapable of describing their

inner life.

It was more profitable, as Mr. Peter Quennell says in his

excellent introduction, to compare Fanny Hill with Richard-

son’ heroines Pamela or Clarissa; and also to compare

Cleland’s moral attitude with the Hogarth of “The Harlot’s

Progress”. The moral of Pamela is that lovely woman must

30

not stoop to folly; if she does, she will miss both respect-

(fol. 34] ability and property. The moral of Clarissa is

“Better death”; and of Hogarth’s pictorial chronicle, that

a life of libertinage leads to self-destruction. To these vio-

lent and general views, Fielding was the aristocratic objec-

tor. It was notorious (a large body of non-Puritan opinion

agreed) that a life of pleasure did not automatically lead

to disaster; that the virtuous Pamela was a sham; and even

that Clarissa was one of those peculiar psychological aber-

rants who are contented with nothing short of rape. Like

Fielding (in this way at least), John Cleland holds to the -

view that manners can be reformed only if one-is truthful

about private experience and cultivates one’s perceptions

and good sense. His story may be shallow, but its content,

within its limits, is not.

To this attitude Cleland adds his own eccentricity as a

writer. He was a bookish Scot with a Celtic bee in his

bonnet. He is eccentric to the point of ridicule. It is true

he was a down-at-heel Bohemian who wrote his sensational

and daring Fanny Hill to make a quick twenty guineas,

when he was bankrupt; yet his real interests were esoteric

and solemn. His hobby-horse was not sex but philology.

He sought to found a universal language and wrote a

“Specimen of an Etymological Vocabulary or Essay by

means of the Analytic Method, to retrieve the Ancient

Celtic.”

Mr. Quennell quotes a long passage from this obscure

essay, which is dotty but reveals an obsession with the meta-

physics of the art of description. Here is a sample of

Cleland’s groping mind:

“If then, I repeat it, if I am not mistaken in this

method of analysing words by an individuation of ideas,

syllable by syllable, and through every particle that

constitutes those ideas . . by means of which the exis-

tence of things may be found in their natural records

and repositories, words satisfactorily explained so as

to convey undeniable truths by implication .. .”

31

If that particular passage suggests anything it is a fervid

preoccupation with metaphor and the associations of words

poetic or otherwise—which is not, when one comes to think

of it, extraordinary in an eloquent Celt—that inspired the

florid and indeed the best passages of sexual description in

the book. The evocation of what sexual pleasure is in its

[fol. 35] particularity and in the imagination, was his

strong point. There he succeeded where better and higher-

minded writers—D. H. Lawrence among them-—have gro-

tesquely failed. Cleland is good about sex because he is

good about words. Elegance, energy and kindness, he con-

veyed.

The absurdity of Fanny Hill lies here also; where “por-

nography” does not brutalize, it idealizes. The book is, in

this sense, an erotic fantasy—and a male fantasy, at that,

put into the mind of a woman. The male organ is phenom-

enal to the point of absurdity. Cleland is carried away by

his sexual daydream. So was Casanova, most of the time,

for eroticism is a kind of intoxication. But we must remem-

ber that Fanny Hill was a sensational book, written as a

sensational counterblast from the point of view of privacy

to those who were formulating the new public bourgeois

attitude to sex. In one sense Cleland is engagingly feminine;

the continual reference to clothes, to furniture, to manners

is that. But Cleland has the naive male double view that

old whores are hardened and corrupt but that young ones,

though on the make, are also rescuable—not by pious inter-

ference, but through the experience of love. On the whole,

one would guess that Hogarth’s view of the bagnio was the

correct one; for we notice Cleland is a snob; his brothel is

that fantasy, the select brothel with no risk of the eigh-

teenth-century nightmare, the pox; but is odd that Cleland,

who was either wrong, exalted, or cynical, should have had

a finer and far less gross sexual sensibility than Hogarth—

except possibly in one or two gory sadistic metaphors and

in the disagreeable flagellation scene. If that disgusts, it

at any rate shrewdly exposes the psychological distress of

the neurotic.

32

Fanny Hill may bore one—she admits that an ecstatic

story like hers may become tedious because there is nothing

so tiring as repeated ecstasy—but she leaves no bad taste.

If we don’t believe her fairy tale, we believe her feelings.

Indeed she conveys the sense of pleasure without guilt.

(There, alas, she is no realist.) After the eighteenth cen-

tury, a book like this could not be written in England.

Romantic morality reasserted itself and sexual happiness

retired from print into privacy and, indeed, one does not

want this private mystery to be exploited or described too

often, even by the gifted.

(fol. 36] After publication, the real pornographers got

to work on Fanny Hill. The book was pirated. The pirates

supplied obscene illustrations. (One set of these by Cruik-

shank must have been good, but it has been lost.) They

dirtied the text, added episodes. The illustrations led to

prosecutions. But as a minor fantasy, deluding as a guide

to conduct, but respectful of our delight in the body, this

half-sly, half-ingenuous manual is an interesting footnote

in the history of the English novel. It reminds one of those

improper carvings one sometimes finds under the arms of

medieval choir stalls. Immodestly the fiesh happily per-

sists.

The Court: I exclude this opinion of this book found in

the “New Statesman” as purely hearsay, opinion testimony,

the author not in the court. Do you except?

Mr. Rembar: Yes, your Honor.

The Court: Exception noted. Do you offer that as an

offer of proof?

Mr. Rembar: Yes, your Honor.

The Court: It may be marked Identification No. 3.

(Article entitled “Mersey Sound, 1750”, by Brigid

Brophy, from the November 15, 1963 issue of “New States-

man”, page 710, is marked Exhibit 3 for Identification.)

Offer of Proof:

Mersey Sound, 1750

Brigid Brophy

To my mind, the two most fascinating subjects in the

universe are sex and the 18th century. Anyone who so

much as partly shares that persuasion would expect “Fanny

Hill”, as a cardinal source-book for both subjects, to be

an interesting document. An interesting novel, however,

[fol. 37] you would not expect, if you judged by the run

of minor 18th-century fictions or, still less, by the run

of famous naughty books. As a rule, if there’s anything

drearier than smut, it’s old smut. When “Fanny Hill” turns

out to possess, over and above the interest of its material,

literary charm, that seems almost too bonus to be true.

It is in fact a highly engaging little erotic tale—perhaps

the most engaging emerge from the entire 17 centuries of

European literature that lie between “Daphnis and Chloe”

and “Claudine a |’Ecole”.

Not that there could be an instant’s doubt which of the

17 “Fanny Hill” belongs to. Tone, tenor and preoccupa-

tions, to say nothing of the heroine’s first name, are all so

dead-central to the period that it is by an accident of po-

etical precision that the book was published slap in the

centre of the century, in 1750 itself. No more can one

doubt that John Cleland’s (quite legitimate) purpose was

to entertain and get paid for doing so. He neither aims

at nor achieves a masterpiece. When he touches art, which

is quite often, it is of a truly artless kind; he is not even

trying, in the fashion established, soon afterwards by

Greuze and towards the end of the century transplanted

into literature by Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, to be artless.

That, given the period’s wrongheadedness about art and

artlessness alike, is to Cleland’s advantage. The literary

masterpieces of the 18th century were produced against

the grain of a philosophy convinced that imagining was

less useful than moralising, and often against the grain

of the author himself. The century’s greatest poet could

actually, locking back in admiration to the primitive Golden

34

Age, count among its glories that it had no arts. Laclos

east “Les Liaisons Dangereuses” in the flippant convention

of an erotic novel with a perfunctory punishment of vice

appended. The result is that we have only just noticed

that it is a great novel, and have still not wholly taken

in that it is one which turns its convention upside down—

not an erotic but a thanatic novel, whose ending, so far

from being an appendage, is the tragic doom towards which

the characters unconsciously drive themselves all along.

Cleland’s talent, quite lacking the stamina of Pope’s or

Laclos’, could never have stood out against the exception-

ally marked and uniform grain of his age. Had he at-

[fol. 38] tempted high art, he would have got trapped in

the marmoreal toga-folds of the 18th century elevated

manner. He is saved because, unlike Laclos, he is writiug

an erotic novel. He can skip the elevation and get on with

the erections. ‘I skip over, Fanny frankly writes, ‘the nat-

ural grief and affliction which I felt on this melancholy

occasion’—that is, ‘the loss of my tender fond parents’.

Likewise she will ‘skip over all that happened to me on

the road’—the road, that is, conducting her to London and

prostitution: from her poor but respectable birthplace near

Liverpool.

Cleland’s immediate model is “Clarissa”, whose final vol-

umes had appeared the year before. He adopts the stand-

ard epistolary form, but with no attempt at verisimilitude,

let alone at providing a textbook of epistolary etiquette.

He simply splits his novel into two ‘letters’: each is framed

in a couple of merely formal, though pretty, colophons in

the shape of an introductory ‘Madam’ and a concluding

“T am, Madam, yours, eic.” which are addressed to an

anonymous friend to whom Fanny has promised an account

of ‘the loose part of my life, wrote with the same liberty

that I led it.’ Having tidied away the paraphernalia, Cle-

land is able to get on with a remarkably uncluttered nar-

rative line; indeed, he gets Fanny to London, and places

her, penniless and friendless, at the mercy of a brothel-

keeper, in about as many pages as it takes Richardson

volumes to get Clarissa into the same fix.

|

35

In outline, Fanny’s story apes Clarissa’s; but where

Richardson, a proto-Sade but less frank, presides sancti-

moniously over his heroine’s long-drawn degradation,

Cleland and Fanny are cheerful. The opening discloses

the end will be happy, and in fact everything between is

arranged in a manner thoroughly agreeable to Fanny.

Quickly escaping the nasty procuress, she takes up with—

indeed, falls more than a touch in love with—one who is

kind, deals fair financially and tenderly suffers her girls

to have none but gentle and sexually attractive clients.

The most remarkable thing about these ‘memoirs of a

woman of pleasure’ is that the pleasure concerned is

Fanny’s. She may be bought, but she is no inert bit of

goods. Her ‘downfall’ is really one long delightful swoon

into the depths of pleasurable sensation—which Cleland

has her describe in vigorous and often beautiful meta-

phorical language; by her own account, her subject is ‘prop-

erly the province of poetry, nay, is poetry itself’. The

emergence of the 18th-century heroine, explaining herself

[fol. 39] in the novel through letters and in the opera

through arias, reflects that women had emerged into social

articulateness. No longer mere objects of men’s pleasures,

they can themselves be pleased and say so. A whole pub-

lic—including the women themselves—was demanding to

be told what did please women. Cleland’s was perhaps

the most explicit answer.

True, the century had ‘defloration mania’, and Cleland

eaters for it. The parlour game of Fanny’s fellow-pros-

titutes is to swop accounts of how they lost their virginities ;

and Fanny’s own history is a prolonged defloration. It

begins at the hands of a prostitute, and proceeds to the

loss of her visual innocence when she spies on sexual en-

counters ; even after her first lover deflowers her, it remains

for a lover more ithyphallic to enlarge the result; even

then, with the help of stage-property blood, Fanny fakes

up a maidenhead to have it destroyed all over again by

a client whose particularity that is. She undergoes yet

another ‘initiation’—into a society of four couples who

take turns at coupling in front of the others. There fol-

36

lows Fanny’s systematically progressive initiation into

variations and perversities; and at the last Cleland still

has an ironic conceit up his sleeve whereby Fanny, re-

united and about to be married to her first love, comes to

bed as blushingly as a virgin, though her blushes are now

for her non-virginity.

Yet all these pangs of defloration are in the service of

erotic pleasure—Fanny’s and the reader’s. Postponing the

culmination of Fanny’s deflowering is equivalent to post-

poning the point where the reader has a mental orgasm.

By fulfilling the requirements of the erotic novel, Cleland

produced an article rare in the 18th century, a full-length

(which Voltair’s are not) prose narrative where the cli-

maxes are cumulative instead of cancelling out. Fanny

herself propounds the literary problems: to avoid at once

gross language and ‘mincing . . . affected circumlocutions’ ;

and to introduce variety into subject-matter ‘eternally one

and the same’. Surmounting these problems, Cleland ar-

rived at the craft of the well-made novel. It is all the

same craft, whether the novel is erotic or non-erotic; and

to a large extent it is the same craft as that of the well-

{fol.40] made erotic daydream. Cleland’s narrative, in

which all iiconveniencies—including the very possibility

of pregnancy——are simply swept out of consideration, is

purest daydream. Its content could not possibly shock

anycne who has ever led a fantasy life.

EKighteenth-century philosophy had, like Fanny herself,

recognized pleasure as nature’s ‘principal end’. Cleland is

simply practising what Edward Young preached, that

‘Pleasure is nought but virtue’s gayer name’. Fanny finally

opts for virtue in the form of true and singleminded love,

but without, as she rightly claims, hypocrisy: she simply

finds love ultimately more pleasurable, and wastes no re-

gret on a past which has only the better equipped her, in

experience and money, for love.

Her progress is sprigged with the pleasure-motifs of the

age. Fanny is Johnsonian in devotion to London, and

Evelin-like in contempt for provincials. The story’s one

37

excursion out of town echoes “The Rape of the Lock” in

being ‘a party of pleasure ... up the river Thames’. Cleland

imports no realistic exoticism from his life in Bombay or

as consul in Smyrna. He uses only the fashionably exotic

slang of calling a brothel a seraglio. That and the ‘cere-

monial of initiation’ which Fanny undergoes fore-echo

Mozart’s themes—and even his serious social intent. Like

“Die Zauberflote” itself. “Fanny Hill” sketches an ideally

benevolent society, albeit in a brothel. Jealousy is drowned

in a diffused bi-sexuality; even the constant voyeurism,

practised through an implausible quantity of cracked pan-

elling, symptomises an attempt to render sex sociable.

Opera is, as a matter of fact, one of the motifs which

Cleland’s mind, running so true to the age, leaps at for

a metaphor of sexual ‘harmony and concert’. The female

body he maps according to the great minor art of the age,

landscaping. It is to Watteau’s landscapes that he casts

back when Fanny calls sexual intercourse ‘our trip to

Cythera’. Indeed, Cleland’s couples share with Watteau’s

a grave elegance and a courteous concern for each other.

Even when the four pairs take turns on the couch, ‘good

manners and politeness were inviolably observ’d’. Cleland

himself is as decent. Mercifully not ‘robust’, or Row-

[fol. 41] landsonian, he is decorous not merely in vocabu-

lary but down to the last cadence of his fine, plain prose.

Cleland does not achieve the imaginative world of a Wat-

teau or a Tiepolo; his is the fantasy world of a decorative

painter. The entire novel might be taking place, like his

pleasure-party in a pavilion whose ‘marquise’ is ‘figur’d

with fluted pilasters . . . the whole having a gay effect

upon the eye, wherever you turn’d it.’

The Court: I will exclude the Time Magazine article. I

read that before; you have it in the back of your brief,

haven’t you?

Mr. Rembar: Yes.

The Court: I .will exclude that as the opinion of some-

one else not in court, and exception noted.

Exception taken, and exception noted.

38

That may be accepted as Identification 4 in an offer of

proof.

(Item bearing sub-heading “Taste” under the heading

“Modern Living” from the August 2, 1963 issue of Time

Magazine is marked Exhibit No. 4 for Identification.)

Modern Living

Taste

Ye Olde Sex

Just when it was becoming fashionably sick, someone

had to come along and remind everybody that sex can be

fun. The contemporary five-foot shelf abounds in incest,

lewd vagrancy, homosexual hankypanky, reckless driving,

and other suburban indelicacies. Such misdemeanors seem

thoroughly neurotic compared to the plain if repetitive

dalliance of Fanny Hill, heroine of John Cleland’s

[fol. 42] “Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure,” originally

published circa 1749 and widely accredited as the first

deliberately dirty novel in English.

Last week in Manhattan, after hearing arguments on

two injunctions to ban sale and distribution of the book

(in a new edition by G. P. Putnam’s Sons), Justice Charles

Marks of the New York State Supreme Court ruled that

Fanny is indeed obscene.

The United States Supreme Court has held that the test

for obscenity is “whether to the average person, applying

contemporary community standards, the dominant theme

of the material taken as a whole appeals to the prurient

interest.” Said Justice Marks: “The opinions of authors

and critics cannot be substituted for those of the average

person in the contemporary community. Neither the qual-

ity of the writing nor the so-called literary worth of the

book prevents the book from being adjudged obscene.”

A Patchwork Past. The rough handling in court was

not Fanny’s first setback. In 1821 a racily illustrated edi-

tion won fame up Massachusetts way, in what is generally

regarded as the first recorded case in the U.S. of sup-

pression of a literary work on grounds of obscenity. Her

39

second-class status thus established, poor Fanny found that

the boys just wouldn’t leave her alone. Like her sister-in-

arms, “Lady Chatterley,” she has been dog-eared, passed

around, pirated, smuggled, disguised in “Franny and

Zooey” jackets, and buried under musky sweatshirts in

prepschool locker rooms the world over.

Author Cleland, the never-do-well bohemian who first

put “Fanny” between covers, wrote the book because he

needed money, but sold it for a mere 20 guineas. He there-

after pursued his passion for philology and died a scholar.

His publisher, made rich by reprints, died a proper gen-

tleman.

As her story begins, Fanny is a 15-year-old Lancashire

lass who arrives in London and promptly falls into the

clutches of a sportinghouse madam. Her subsequent ad-

ventures are detailed in prose that misses nary an 18th

century curlicue. Of one memorable orgy for eight, she

[fol. 43] relates: ‘It is to be noted that, though all modesty

and reserve were banished from the transaction of those

pleasures, good manners and politeness were inviolably

observed; here was no gross ribaldry, no offensive or rude

behavior, ungenerous reproaches to the girls.’ After enjoy-

ing many another ‘well-breath’d youth, hot-mettled, and

flush with genial juices,’ Fanny finds true love and kisses

the oldest profession goodbye.

Enjoying It Less. Perhaps the most damaging case

against pornography is stated by Fanny herself: its great-

est offense is tedium. She begins her second letter saying:

‘I imagined, indeed, that you would have been cloy’d and

tired with the uniformity of adventures and expressions,

inseparable from a subject of this sort, whose bottom, or

groundwork being, in the nature of things, eternally one

and the same.’ ,

True enough. But in an age when even serious authors

treat the sexual act in terms of a case history or social

protest (and the Olympia Press’s professional pornogra-

phers are driven to exploit De Sadean whips, chains and

intricate multiple interlacings to keep ahead of the uncen-

40

sored press), Fanny Hill’s straightforward heterosexu-

ality must come as a shock. None of her escapades, for

instance, are as unsavory as the AC-DC boy-meets-boy

encounters of James Baldwin’s “Another Country,” nor

are they as grubbily explicit as the climactic sexual passage

in Updike’s “Rabbit Run.”

Certainly Fanny was no common harlot. Her “Memoirs”

combine literary grace with a disarming enthusiasm for

an activity which is, after all, only human. What is more,

she never uses a dirty word.

Mr. Rembar: There is an exception to each of those

rulings, I take it?

The Court: One of them you didn’t make, but I made it

for you. I saved your exceptions; you are protected all

around.

Mr. Rembar: I have no further questions of this witness.

The Court: Any further questions of this witness?

[fol.44] Mr. Sullivan: I have nothing further, your

Honor.

That is the petitioner’s case, your Honor.

The Court: Petitioner rests.

Mr. Rembar: If the Court please, before I call my wit-

nesses, I would like to make a brief statement.

I objected to the eliciting of testimony on the part of

Dr. Collins because, as I contend, the questions asked were

all questions that required a legal conclusion in order to

be answered. I will not argue that point further. Your

Honor has ruled and my brief deals with these matters.

I did not object to the question addressed to Dr. Collins

as to whether in his opinion the book has or lacks literary

merit. That kind of question—

Mr. Sullivan: May I interrupt, your Honor?

The Court: What is this, an opening?

Mr. Sullivan: Are you opening your own case or—

Mr. Rembar: Yes.

Mr. Sullivan: —or pulling mine apart at this stage?

Mr. Rembar: IJ beg your pardon?

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PE Lie oh CeO Cha ls SOR AE alse

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PTE ORES

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41

Mr. Sullivan: I don’t quite understand what the point

of this is.

Mr. Rembar: I want to distinguish between the type of

testimony to which I object and the type to which I do

not object.

Mr. Sullivan: Your Honor, please, I believe this is a mat-

ter for argument.

[fol.45] The Court: Yes. This is an opening statement

at the conclusion of the petitioner’s evidence.

Our practice here is, if you make an opening statement

before you present your evidence, it is usually a statement

of what you intend to prove and what you intend to show.

Mr. Rembar: I would have arrived at that in the very

next sentence, your Honor.

The Court: All right.

Mr. Rembar: The witnesses whom the publisher, as inter-

vener, will call will testify in the main to the issue last de-

scribed, that is to say, whether the book in issue has or has -

not literary merit or other social values.

I would point out that in the case of Attorney General vs.

A Book Named Tropic of Cancer, the Supreme Judicial

Court of this state held that the presence of such merit or

other values excludes the possibility that a book can be held

obscene.

I call Professor Stocking.

Frep Hotty Strocxine, Sworn

Direct examination.

By Mr. Rembar:

Q. Would you give your full name, please, sir?

A. Fred Holly Stocking.

Q. What is your occupation, Mr. Stocking?

A. I am Professor of English and Chairman of the Eng-

lish Department, Williams College, Williamstown, Mass.

42

Q. How long have you been teaching English?

A. Since 1937.

[fol. 46] Q. Have you covered a wide range of English

literature?

A. Yes, sir, from—generally, I have taught courses from

Chaucer to the 1930’s.

Q. Are you familiar with the book in issue in this case?

A. Yes.

Q. Would you please state your opinion about merit or

lack of merit in this book?

Mr. Sullivan: Objection, your Honor, to the form of the

question. What manner of merit?

Mr. Rembar: I didn’t say manner.

The Court: Are you objecting on his qualifications?

Mr. Sullivan: No, to the form of the question.

The Court: All right; qualifications are admitted. First,

determine whether he has an opinion on whether this book

has any literary merit.

Q. Do you have an opinion, Mr. Stocking, as to whether

the book in issue has literary merit or other value?

A. Yes. .

Q. Would you state that opinion, please?

A. I think this book has literary merit because, first of all,

I think it is a work of art. That is to say, I think it asks

for and receives a literary response as distinct from a non-

literary response.

I think it is, like all pieces of literature, essentially an act

of contemplation, and an act of contemplation presented

through a story that is presented in an orderly and

organized fashion, with a fictional central character, and

with a literary style that is definable and commendable.

I think the central character is presented as a person who,

at the time of writing these words, is essentially what I call

(fol. 47] an intellectual. By an intellectual, I mean someone

who is extremely curious about life and who seeks with

objectivity and detachment to record with accuracy the de-

tails of the external world, physical sensations, psycho-

45

logical responses, who makes an attempt to generalize on

experience for patterns in experience and to articulate and

formulate those patterns, and who likes to, endeavors to,

arrive at certain conclusions about experience.

This character is essentially, in my opinion, an empiricist

who does arrive at certain conclusions, certain conclusions

about moral values, certain conclusions about the nature

and high value of temperance, certain conclusions about the

value of the life of the mind, who arrives at a clear intel-

lectual distinction between the nature of love and the nature

of lust.

The intellectuality of this character is made clear to me

from the opening page by the prose style, which is cere-

monious, formal, consciously formed, and in a way that I

find pleasureable and highly artificial. This establishes the

air of detachment from the beginning.

I think furthermore that it is a remarkable piece of im-

aginative projection. It is extraordinary that a man could

project himself into the mind of a woman in as precise and

vivid a way as Shakespeare has projected himself into the

minds of women and kings and bums and all sorts of per-

sonalities which must have been in many ways different

from Shakespeare’s own.

I find this a structured novel which follows a definitely

progressive pattern. I find it a novel which offers that kind

of vicarious experience and the conclusions one can derive

from vicarious experience which one cannot derive from

one’s own experience.

Furthermore, with the authority of Mr. Quennell, who is

an authority on the 18th century, I find that this tells me

things not only about human nature but about the 18th cen-

tury that I might not otherwise know.

Q. Who is Mr. Quennell?

A. As I understand it, Mr. Quennell is a scholar who has

written considerably about the 18th century. I would say

[fol.48] he is a semi-popular writer whose writings are

based on very sound scholarship which he wears very

lightly.

44

Q. This is the Mr. Quennell who is the author of the in-

troduction?

A. Yes.

Mr. Rembar: That’s all.

Cross examination.

By Mr. Sullivan:

Q. Where were you educated, Doctor?

A. I graduated from Southeastern High School in De-

troit. I got my B.A. from Williams College, my M.A. and my

Ph. D. in English from the University of Michigan.

Q. How long have you been at Williams as a professor?

A. Since 1940. That is, 1 was a member of the faculty.

Professor isn’t the word for that entire time.

Q. Member of the faculty?

A. Yes.

Q. That’s what I mean. I am very pleased to meet you.

I am sure you are a distinguished scholar.

A. Thank you.

Q. Now, you said “on the very first page of this book.” I

assume you are not talking about Mr. Quennell’s introduc-

tion, you are talking about the substance of Cleland’s pub-

lication?

A. That’s true.

Q. You say that the prose style connotes a certain type of

character, do you not?

A. That isn’t exactly what I said. I said it denotes a

character who has achieved a certain capacity for organizing

experience, a certain detachment.

Q. That’s the character of the author?

A. No, the character of Fanny Hill, who is the speaker

as distinct from the author.

Q. The heroine, as Mr. Rembar has described her?

A. Heroine was his pronunciation.

[fol.49] Q. I am very sorry. What kind of a character

did Fanny Hill have, Doctor?

te

—=

45

A. At the time she is writing these words, she had a char-

acter of a person who has had a great deal of experience,

who has lived life with great gusto and with a great interest

in it, and is now trying to formulate her experiences in the

past.

Q. As portrayed by Mr. Cleland, as he wishes to portray

them, is that so?

A. He has her portray herself, yes.

Q. Through the book itself, would you describe Fanny’s

character for me?

A. I have described it. I will repeat this description, if

you like. She is a person who lives with great zest, who is

interested in experiences, who is not offered an opportunity

to have a very wide range of experiences, but, within the

narrow range of experiences that life offers her, she tries

to arrive at certain conclusions about life and to make cer-

tain generalizations.

Q. She doesn’t have the opportunity to have a wide range

of experience?

A. Her economic and family circumstances determine

this, to a large extent.

Q. What family, Doctor?

A. Family that she didn’t have.

Q. Does she have a family?

A. That she didn’t have. Her lack of family would be a

better phrase.

Q. You have recited that she has had certain experiences

and has a zest for life. These experiences, do they include

Lesbianism in the book?

A. Yes, an experience with Phoebe. She is an extremely

innocent girl at that tinie. She certainly wouldn’t be able to

identify it as Lesbian, but we in later age can use this word

for that experience.

Q. Do these experiences include sexual intercourse?

A. Indeed they do.

Q. And endless experiences of sexual intercourse?

A. No.

[fol.50] Q. Within the bounds of the book?

46

A. There are many points in the book in which she is not

engaged in sexual intercourse, but reflecting on her ex-

periences, talking with other girls.

Q. But in reflecting on the experiences, and the explana-

tion of the experiences as they take place, they all involve at

that point sexual relationships?

A. No, they do not involve sexual relationships.

Q. When you take out those that do not involve sexual

relationships, how many pages of this book do you think

you would have left?

A. I would have to go through it and do this.

Mr. Rembar: The book speaks for itself, your Honor, on

this. I don’t think the witness can be expected to count

pages.

Mr. Sullivan: He has said they do not all—

Mr. Rembar: That is his answer.

The Court: I will permit the examination.

A. Do you want me to cite an example of a page that

is not about sexual experiences?

Q. No, I will ask the questions.

A. All right.

Q. Is there any depravity in this book, Doctor?

A. Yes, I think there are one or two experiences which,

if they occurred in real life, would be regarded by a normal

person as depraved, and she learns from both normal, if

that’s the appropriate contrasting term, experiences and

from depraved ones. I think the flagellant episode is the

clearest example.

Q. The whipping?

A. The whipping episode.

Q. Is there any homosexuality?

A. There is a reference to a homosexual episode and, in

this edition, it is not described in detail.

[fol.51] Q. It is not? Have you read the paperback or

just the hard cover?

A. I understand they are the same. This is the book that I

have read (indicating).

Mr. Rembar: They are the same in that regard.

Mr. Sullivan: I have a specific page in mind.

A. I understand that there is a passage that the editors

believed a later publisher inserted and therefore was not

written by Cleland, but does occur in some 18th century

editions of this book.

The Court: We are only interested in this particular

book that is in litigation here.

The Witness: The particular episode I have in mind is

the one in which Fanny is disgusted by what she sees.

Mr. Sullivan: That is what I have in mind.

The Court: I didn’t hear you.

The Witness: I said, the passage I have in mind is the one

in which Fanny expressed disgust at what she had seen.

The actual episode itself, I said, is not presented in the de-

tail that the other episodes are presented.

Mr. Sullivan: I had for reference, your Honor, a book that

Dr. Collins read and it was somewhat different from this.

The Witness: I have only this Putnam edition which you

have before you.

Mr. Rembar: 256 and 257 in that book; 181, 182 in that

book.

The Court: What is this, a homosexual incident?

The Witness: Would you like to have me read this?

[fol.52] Q. I would be pleased to have you read it, be-

ginning here.

A. The passage I have in mind:

“The criminal scene they acted, I had the patience to

see to an end, purely that I might gather more facts

and certainly against them in my design to do their

deserts instance justice; and accordingly, when they

had readjusted themselves, and were preparing to go

out, burning as I was with rage and indignation, I

jumped down from the chair, in order to raise the house

upon them, but with such an unlucky impetuosity, that

some nail or ruggedness in the floor caught my foot,

and flung me on my face with such violence that I fell

senseless on the ground, and must have lain there some

time e’er anyone came to my relief; so that they,

alarmed, I suppose, by the noise of my fall, had more

than the necessary time to make a safe retreat. This

they effected, as I learn with a precipitation nobody

could account for, till, when come to myself, and com-

pos’d enough to speak, I acquainted those of the house

with the whole transaction I had been evidence to.”

That was the paragraph I had in mind.

Q. I had in mind this particular one (indicating).

A. “For now the elder began to embrace, to press and

kiss the younger, to put his hands into his bosom and give

him”—

The Court: Do we need to have this read in? The whole

book is in evidence.

Mr. Sullivan: No, we don’t, your Honor.

The Court: You just put in the record what particular

page you want the Court’s attention called to.

Mr. Sullivan: In Exhibit A, it would be at pages 181 and

182, your Honor.

The Court: That is the homosexual incident.

[fol.53] Q. You earlier stated, Dr. Stocking, that this

was a portrayal of an act of contemplation?

A. Yes.

Q. What did you mean by an act of contemplation?

A. Any literary work is an act of contemplation in that a

literary person contemplates in terms of character, story,

episode, as distinct from a philosopher who contemplates in

terms of abstract proposition, the mathematician in terms of

mathematical symbol, and so forth.

Q. Is it not true that there are repeated and vivid descrip-

tions of sexual intercourse in this book?

A. That is true.

Q. Would you call those descriptions normal sexual inter-

course descriptions?

A. The descriptions are normal descriptions—I want to

make sure what you are asking me about—except that this

49

recorder is more accurate, precise, and orderly than most

of us are able to be in our reports.

Q. He is accurate, Doctor?

A. He gives the illusion of accuracy. I don’t know how

it feels to be a murderer, but when I read what a fellow

says about how it feels, I get the illusion of accuracy.

Q. Then it is an illusion of accuracy?

A. Every piece of literature creates an illusion.

Q. There is also in this book depravity, you have stated?

A. There are descriptions of one or two episodes which a

person, if he encountered them in real life, would describe

as depraved.

Q. And homosexuality?

A. There is a description of an episode, a brief description

of an episode of homosexuality.

Q. And Lesbianism?

A. There is a description of something that you and I

could recognize as Lesbianism.

Q. Are such descriptions obscene, Doctor, by your defini-

tion?

A. By my definition, they are not obscene because they are

subordinate to an interest which is primarily literary,

(fol. 54] whereas an obscene piece of literature has an in-

terest which is primarily to arouse sexual passion in the

reader.

Q. Does not this book give rise to sexual passions in the

reader?

A. Individual passages of the Bible, of Shakespeare’s

plays, and—

Q. I wish you would answer my question.

The Court: Answer the question.

A. Individual passages do, of course.

Q. Percentagewise, in the book itself, what proportion of

this book is devoted to depicting sexual relations of one

kind or another?

A. Iam sorry; I am unable to make a statistical answer.

Q. In your opinion, a rough estimate, Doctor?

A. In my opinion,—

can

50

Mr. Rembar: Your Honor, here again, the book is in

evidence. I don’t see what this witness’ estimate of the

proportion will add to the facts.

The Court: I will allow the question.

The Witness: Will you state the question again?

The Court: How much of it relates to these incidents and

how much does not?

Mr. Rember: I would like‘an exception, your Honor.

The Court: It is admissible.

Repeat the question to the witness, please.

(Question read by the stenographer.)

[fol.55] Mr. Rembar: Your Honor, I would like to make

an objection on further ground. It is now very well settled

that a book must be considered as a whole. It is not per-

missible to take parts of it, or fractions of it, or individual

passages. The question is irrelevant under the present state

of the law.

The Court: I deny your objection.

Mr. Rembar: Exception.

The Court: It adds up, and the test is for me to consider

the whole, not the witness.

The Witness: Judge, if I may say so, my definition of

obscenity is with reference to the whole.

Mr. Sullivan: May the witness answer my question, your

Honor?

A. I do not know what proportion.

Q. Could you make an estimate, Doctor? More than half?

A. This is a question «[—

Q. Depicting—

A. The subject matter, not the way in which the subject

matter is presented; I am just trying to get clear about the

question.

Mr. Rembar: Is it understood I have a continuing ob-

jection?

The Court: No.

Mr. Rembar: I object to this question.

51

The Court: The last question, “Is it more than half?”

Object to that question?

Mr. Rembar: Same objection.

[fol.56] The Court: Objection denied.

Mr. Pembar: Exception.

A. My guess would be less than half.

The Court: Less than half?

The Witness: Yes.

Q. Does the depicting of these sexual relations, be they

intercourse, homosexuality, Lesbianism, or depravity, in

this fashion, in your opinion, arouse prurient interest in the

reader?

Mr. Rembar: Objection, your Honor, on the same ground

to which I objected to these questions in the plaintiff’s case

in chief.

The Court: You object, that the witness has to have in

mind what the legal definition is of prurient interest.

Prurient is a word of many years’ usage.

This witness can answer the question.

Mr. Rembar: Your Honor, it was a word of many years’

usage prior to 1957. In that year, the Supreme Court made

it part of a rule of law.

The Court: Just a moment. If you want to take an

exception, you may have an exception.

Mr. Rembar: I would like to state a further ground of

objection, if your Honor will allow me.

The Court: All right. State it.

Mr. Rembar: This cross-examination goes far beyond

the direct examination which was confined to the issue of

literary merit.

[fol.57] The Court: That doesn’t go in Massachusetts.

He can examine on any issue that may arise in the case.

Objection denied.

Mr. Rembar: Exception.

The Court: Exception noted.

A. Your question was, “Do these episodes presented in

this way arouse prurient interest?” By “in this way” you

mean in the prose style in which they are presented?

52

Q. No, just as presented in the book, Doctor.

A. As presented in the book?

Q. The form as presented in the book.

A. As presented in the book. The answer is No. That

is not the chief—

Mr. Sullivan: May I ask that be stricken?

The Witness: I will ask for a clarification.

The Court: Whatever it is, it is out.

Q. The depicting of the sexual episodes in this book as

presented in the form as set forth in this book, do they

arouse a prurient interest in the reader?

Mr. Rembar: Objection, your Honor, on grounds pre-

viously stated.

The Court: Objection denied.

Mr. Rembar: Exception.

The Court: Exception noted.

[fol.58] Q. A Yes or No, Doctor.

The Witness: Judge, I cannot give a Yes or No because

it arouses many interests, of which a prurient is—

Q. Would you kindly state that you cannot give a Yes

or No answer?

A. I cannot give a Yes or No answer.

The Court: All right. We will take the morning recess.

(Short recess. )

Mr. Sullivan: I have no further questions of this witness,

your Honor.

Redirect examination.

By Mr. Rembar:

Q. You were asked on cross-examination about the pas-

sage in the book in which Fanny Hill observes a homo-

sexual encounter. What is her attitude toward this? What

is her reaction to having seen what she says she saw?

Mr. Sullivan: Objection, your Honor.

a

53

The Court: Of course, I have read the whole book, but

I will allow the question.

A. Anger and disgust.

Q. There were questions directed to you about certain

parts and certain passages of this book, and your opinion of

them was asked. What is your impression of the book as a

whole?

A. My impression of the book as a whole is that it is

essentially trying to be, and is successful in being, a literary

work, that is to say, a piece of writing that intends to and

succeeds in evoking a literary response.

Mr. Rembar: That’s all.

[fol.59] Jouw M. Buuuirt, Sworn.

Direct examination.

By Mr. Rembar:

Q. Would you state your name, please?

A. John M. Bullitt.

Q. What is your position, Mr. Bullitt?

A. Iam Professor of English at Harvard and Master of

Quincy House.

Q. Do you have any particular specialty within the field

of English?

A. Yes, the 18th century is my special field.

Q. Have you read the book in issue?

A. I have.

Q. Do you have an opinion as to its literary merit or

other value?

A. Yes.

Q. Would you state it for the Court, please?

A. As clearly as I can, I should say that the book has

detectable literary merit and considerable historical value.

Mr. Sullivan: May the last portion be stricken, your

Honor? I object to that last.

litte

54

The Court: It wasn’t responsive to the question. It may

go out, but you may ask the witness the same question.

Mr. Rembar: I asked whether or not it had literary merit

or other value, your Honor. The witness is saying it has

historical value as well as literary merit.

Mr. Sullivan: I don’t believe he has been qualified as an

historian, your Honor.

The Court: Read the last question. I only understood it

inquired about literary value.

(Question read by the stenographer.)

{fol. 60] The Court: I will allow the answer to stand.

Q. Will you go on, please?

Mr. Sullivan: Would your Honor note my exception?

The Court: Exception noted. You are excepting to the

portion where he says it has historical value?

Mr. Sullivan: Historical value.

A. I don’t quite know how far you want me to go. It seems

to me that much has already been said with which I would

whole-heartedly agree, namely that we have here a book

which is—

The Court: Just a moment. We can’t take that as evi-

dence.

Mr. Sullivan: May the witness be asked on how far he

is to go, your Honor?

The Court: No. By saying he agreed with others cannot

be accepted as evidence. That part may go out.

Q. That part is stricken out, but you may state what that

opinion is.

A. Yes, all right. This, it seems to me, is a novel which

is a deliberate work of art, not, I must say, in my judgment,

a great work of art by any means, but recognizable as an

effort to interpret a rather complex character living in a

world peopled by highly diversified characters, going

through a number of very different adventures.

There is evidence, it seems to me, here of a rather skillful,

not greatly skillful, but rather skillful effort to construct a

recognizable plot with a purpose behind it.

re i EP

AERA mie 8m 2

55

There is, in my view, clear evidence that this book has a

good deal of interest as it relates to a number of other

books in the 18th century which are concerned with some

of the same themes, some of the same points of view.

[fol.61] As I understand Cleland, he is presenting here

a moral situation in which he is affirming certain moral

values, certain attitudes. The structure of this affirmation

is to set somewhat in opposition the idea of sensual delight

on the one hand in opposition to, what shall we call it,

prudence, or rationality, on the other.

This is a theme which was common in the 18th century.

It underlies “Joseph Andrews” of Henry Fielding; it is a

theme which‘is part of the moral structure of Richardson’s

“Clarissa” and “Pamela”, and so on, very commonly. Cle-

land resolves it in a way which is customary among his

contemporaries in the 1740’s, namely, although she asserts

very strongly throughout the novel the value, the impor-

tance, of sensual pleasure, she at the same time learns, and

the sense of the novel can be construed as the education

of a young woman in a moral life, the value of love.

Actually, this learning process begins at the very begin-

ning of the novel until at the end she concludes, first of all,

the education with the last of her lovers, the old man who

dies, who educates her in a kind of intellectual responsi-

bility, and, finally, she finds her true love in the figure of

Charles. Here she asserts during those last pages at some

length the whole idea that a sensual passion is only truly

experienced when it is associated with the emotion of love.

There is an element of the novel that has not been touched

on frequently, which I would like just briefly to mention.

In fact, there are two elements. We have not discussed the

novel in terms of its comic possibilities.

There is a good deal of comedy in this novel, deliberate,

calculated comedy. For example, the metaphoric structure

which Fanny uses when she describes her seduction, if I

may use that word, by the sailor, is nautical. She falls into

purely nautical phraseology. I have forgotten the terms—

I have at my desk a list of them, at my seat over there,

but if there is any question about it, I can find the passage.

56

Q. You are referring to the—

A. To the sailor who picks her up.

[fol. 62] Q. —encounter with the sailor?

A. Right. At one point in the novel, she has an affair

with a businessman. The metaphor in that case is filled with

references to business terms, and so on. This is deliberate,

calculated, and is amusing.

The second aspect of the book, it seems to me, that might

bear emphasis is the way in which Cleland follows a tradi-

tion of descriptive characterization. It may not be an acci-

dent that she takes the name “Fanny”. It may be that

Cleland clearly had the adventures of Joseph Andrews, by

Henry Fielding, in mind.

In “Fanny Hill,” Fanny is described in great and really

quite delightful physical detail. If anyone wishes me to

read the passages, I can do so, but the detail of this deserip-

tion very closely parallels the description of Fanny in

“Joseph Andrews”. So, it is perfectly evident that he is

here bringing to his piece of fiction an experience, a literary

artistry, which he has learned from one of the great and

acknowledged masterpieces in the 18th century.

Another element that I might mention as perhaps an

interesting insight into the significance of this book for the

period is that the famous French poet, Guillaume Apol-

linaire, brought out an edition of “Fanny Hill” in the 19th

century, a translation of it into French, to which he added

a very long introduction, most of which, not in his words,

most of which consisting of a transcript of parts of the

memoirs of Casanova, and a transcript of a book written

in the 18th century which gave an historical account of the

seraglios, the bagnios, the brothels, and the famous women

who ran them in the 18th century.

This clearly is a piece of rather remarkable social history

of interest to anyone who is interested in fiction as a way

of understanding society in the past. It is interesting that

one of the ladies who is mentioned in this historical account

is named Mrs. Cole, who is one of the two rather sharply

distinguished madams in the story, and this sharp distine-

tion is a further instance that he is not simply mechanically

57

grinding out characters, and this Mrs. Cole, of the two, is

[fol. 63] the more sympathetic, and she is presented rather

sympathetically here in Apollinaire.

Q. You just mentioned, Mr. Bullitt, two characters who

are quite distinct in the book. Is there in general the treat-

ment of character and the development of character in this

book that is typical of the novel as a literary form?

A. Very much so. Perhaps the proper way to start an-

swering your question is to refer to a critical remark made

by Henry Fielding in “Tom Jones.”

The Court: No, You can’t bring hearsay in there.

The Witness: Sorry.

A. In answer to your question, yes, there are a number

of characters. There is Esther Davis, the woman who brings

her to London. There are very careful, exuberantly done

characterizations. I am trying to find the one of Mrs. Jones,

for example, who is described as being about 46 years old,

tall, meager, red-haired, with one of those trivial, ordinary

faces you meet with everywhere and go about unheeded,

unmentioned.

The Court: What page is that?

The Witness: Page 61.

A. There is a rather careful effort here to delineate this

person. The early Phoebe, who is “red-faced, fat and in her

early 50’s, who waddles into a room.” She doesn’t walk in,

she waddles in.

This kind of writing is very skillfully done. It is a mark

of an artist.

Mr. Rembar: Thank you; that’s all.

[fol. 64] Cross examination.

By Mr. Sullivan:

Q. Earlier, Professor, you used the word “seduction” and

then said, “Pardon me for using that term.” Why did you

say, “Pardon me”?

58

A. I was trying to recall vividly exactly what went on

between Fanny and the sailor.

Q. You didn’t know if it was an accurate word to apply

to—

A. To apply to that particular scene. I wasn’t quite cer-

tain. I would have to look again at the opening passage

to be sure.

Q. You say there is considerable sensual delight in the

book?

A. Yes.

Q. Would you say that those passages that relate to

sensual depravity are delightful as well?

A. I don’t understand, sir, your question.

Q. First of all, are there depictions of depraved sexual

relations in “Fanny Hill”?

A. Depictions?

Q. Depicted.

A. A homosexual scene is depicted.

Q. Would you answer my question Yes or No, are there

phrases—

Yes.

. There are?

Yes.

Would you also say they are sensual delight?

No. To whom, the reader or to Fanny?

. To the reader.

. To the reader, no.

. You also say that Fanny operated in a world of di-

versified characters?

A. Yes.

Q. Of the characters in the book, how many of the char-

acters are depicted in relation to non-sexual happenings?

A rough estimate.

A. May IJ ask a question?

[fol. 65] Q. Certainly.

A. To clarify your question, do you mean in their total

life span given to us, because some of the characters who

are involved in sexual exploits have a good deal of other

things—

OPOoPopep

-

59

Q. Any time they appear in the book.

A. Any time. Very few, if any.

Q. Very few, if any.

Mr. Rembar: I’m sorry—would you repeat the question,

please? —_-

The Court: How many characters in the book were con-

cerned with non-sexual activities.

Mr. Rembar: At any time, was that it, or wholly?

The Witness: At some time.

Q. At some time in the book concerned with non-sexual

activities. What was your answer?

A. My answer to that would be No.

Mr. Rembar: I thought he misunderstood.

A. (Continuing) I thought your question—let me give a

straight-forward answer. So far as I can recall, every

character in the book has, at some time or other, some rela-

' tion to sexual activity.

Q. That’s what I understand you to say. Then you say

this book has a plot and a purpose, do you not?

A. A plot, certainly. A purpose, I am not sure I under-

stand you, sir.

Q. I believe you said in direct examination that there is

a definite purpose set forth in the book as the author—

A. If I said that, I would revise what I mean. I think

that, yes, one purpose here is to write a novel that is going

to be of interest to his readers. That is perfectly clear.

Beyond that, he does have an idea to present—a purpose

in that sense. He is communicating.

[fol.66] Q. He shows this through characters, does he

not?

A. Yes, indeed, through what the characters say.

Q. You have said all these characters at some time or

another in the book have some relationship to a depicting

of sexual relationships?

A. Yes.

Q. You also said that Fanny was an intellectual person?

60

A. That, I believe, was not my phrase. It was used by,

I believe, a previous witness, but I think that a very good

ease could be made for that. I wouldn’t put her LQ. at

any great height, but intellectual in the sense that this book

is written, as it were, at the moment, reflecting back upon

a life span of action, and she reflects upon incidents that

took place.

Q. It is really only part of a life span, isn’t it?

A. Well, it depends—I am not quite sure how old she is

right now as she writes it. The book takes her, as I recall,

from 15 to 19.

Q. That’s right; then she marries Charles?

A. Then she marries, that’s right. She has children by

him, so she must be an older woman now.

Q. You gather at least some, well, ten or more years after

she married Charles?

A. Yes.

Q. I gathered the same.

A. The story then goes up to the conventional termina-

tion of most novels, at least in the 18th century, namely,

action before marriage, matrimony, and that is the con-

clusion. .

Q. This is only a four-year span of her life?

A. As I recall, yes.

Q. And you testified this was how she depicted her edu-

cation?

A. Yes. Now, as I recall, she came to London with very

little education, her parents having died when she was

young.

Q. Smallpox?

A. Smallpox, exactly, and she was innocent, and she at-

tributes falling into vice to ignorance and innocence. This,

[fol. 67] again, is a very familiar theme in the 18th century.

Hogarth has a whole series of prints on the subject.

Q. I wish you would answer my question.

A. Yes, sorry.

Q. We don’t have to get into other books. Incidentally,

Doctor, are you here under summons?

A. Under summons?

61

Q. Yes, were you summoned or asked to be here?

A. I was asked, yes.

Q. And you voluntarily came in?

A. Voluntarily, yes.

Q. Do you believe that the reader of this book would have

aroused in him or her prurient interest?

A. What reader?

Q. The average reader in the community to whom this

book becomes available.

Mr. Rembar: Your Honor,—

A. Do I have to answer this Yes or No?

Mr. Rembar: —I know your Honor has ruled on this, but

I make the same objection.

The Court: Objection denied.

Mr. Rembar: Exception.

The Court: Exception saved.

The Witness: Your Honor, do I have to answer that

Yes or No when I find it very difficult? I am no sociologist,

your Honor; I ama professor of English.

Q. Let me rephrase it.

A. I am not a sexologist; I am not a professional in this

matter.

[fol.68] Q. Are you familiar with the dictionary term of

prurient interest?

A. Based on the Latin term meaning itch.

Q. Would you, upon reading this book, and being a

literary expert, which I am sure you are, I am quite im-

pressed with your credentials, feel that the average reader

in this community would have aroused in he or she a

prurient exercise or interest?

Mr. Rembar: I am sorry—prurient what?

Mr. Sullivan: Well, prurient interest.

A. An interest in prurience, did you mean by that phrase?

Q. Yes.

The Court: I will save your objection and exception.

Again, it is the same question.

62

A. I think it is possible, but I find it incapable, honestly,

to be certain.

Q. Well, there is homosexuality in this book, isn’t there?

A. Oh, yes. Surely no homosexual would be aroused by

this.

Q. There is Lesbianism in this book?

A. Yes, and I can’t imagine a girl being stimulated to

Lesbianism.

Q. And there are depictions of depravity in this book?

A. These are two depictions of two kinds of depravity,

yes.

Q. And a good deal of sexual intercourse?

A. Yes.

Q. Is the book obscene in your opinion?

A. Ihave no opinion on obscenity.

Q. You have no opinion on obscenity. Do you have an

opinion on offensiveness?

A. Yes.

Q. Do you feel it is offensive?

A. No.

Mr. Sullivan: I have no further questions.

[fol. 69] Redirect examination.

By Mr. Rembar:

Q. Mr. Bullitt, you were asked whether in this book there

is delight in the two scenes of depravity to which reference

was made, and you asked whether my brother meant delight

on Fanny’s part or on the reader’s part. What is your an-

swer to each, that is, considering the reader and Fanny?

A. I think in this case we are somewhat influenced by

Fanny’s own response. Fanny’s response is disgust, horror, |

indignation. She explains very carefully that the only

reason she sees the scene to its conclusion is not for any

pleasure that she receives in voyeurism, but rather so that |

she can document the facts so that she can go and get help |

and to have the people arrested. This is the reason why

—

63

she hurries so rapidly, catches her foot on a nail, falls, is

knocked unconscious; they hear her and they escape.

Mr. Rembar: No further questions.

Recross examination.

By Mr. Sullivan:

Q. I would like to ask one question. Are you married?

A. I am indeed.

Q. The language used in this book—is this the type of

language you would use over the breakfast table with your

wife?

A. There isn’t a single dirty word in this book.

Q. Would youanswe ay question?

A. Yes, indeed; indeed.

Mr. Sullivan: No further questions.

Robert H. Sproat, Svorn.

Direct examination.

By Mr. Rembar:

Q. Would you state your name, please?

A. Robert H. Sproat.

Q. What is your position, Mr. Sproat?

A. I am Associate Professor of English Literature, Bos-

ton University.

[fol. 70] Q. How long have you been on the faculty at

Boston University?

A. Approximately 17 years.

Q. Have you read the book before the Court?

A. Yes, I have.

Q. Do you have an opinion as to whether it has literary

merit or other value?

A. Yes, I do.

Q. Would you please state that opinion for the Court?

A. I think “Fanny Hill” has very definitely literary

merit and, as such, I believe it has social value. Having

literary merit, I believe it belongs to the history of English

literature rather than the history of smut.

It is a novel that, esthetically or artistically, is a unified

work of art, having a very interesting structure, even

though the division of that structure seems to be in two

parts—it is fundamentally in three parts. It bears upon

the development of the character of the heroine.

Q. What are those three parts?

A. The first part, up to her meeting with Charles; the

second with her experience with, I think it is, Mr. H.; and

then, finally, her salvation in love with Charles.

I think each of these sections is intricately or organically

related to the character of Fanny, to help develop the

heroine’s final moral and philosophical values. Now, they

aren’t very great, I will admit that—they are not profound,

but they are legitimate values, and they are positive values.

Q. What are those values?

A. I think that, at the risk of oversimplification, she finds

that love, that sex without love, with love, is a good thing.

Q. Would you repeat that sentence?

A. That sex with love is a good thing, that is, a morally

good thing, that she is dealing with the opposition, or that

Cleland is dealing with the opposition in the novel between

sex without love and sex with love.

Now, he agrees, Cleland’s point is clear, it seems to me,

that sexual, natural sexual expressions or joys, are funda-

[fol. 71] mentally good. Unlike Kinsey, I would say that

Cleland’s attitude is that sex is good qualitatively rather

than quantitatively.

Fanny realizes this. I think that the character herself—

though Cleland doesn’t have the skill that a Fielding has

—yet she is a minor, she belongs, it seems to me, to the

minor classic heroines, falling someplace, I would say, per-

haps between James Joyce’s Molly and Moll Flanders.

Q. She forms the link between Moll and Molly?

A. Possibly. I am trying not to repeat what has been

said before, but the one aspect, I think, I found interesting

65

about the work, is the way the language functions in his

novel to create a distance, even when the sexual experi-

ences are portrayed, and, I will admit, they are portrayed

in detail. That one’s response to those scenes is a literary

response has been brought out by a previous witness.

One is not unaware of the formal values of the work.

I think that one’s response is, in part, or, as it is in any

work of art, both to what is being said and how it is said

at the same time. Very often, I think that this is a saving

grace, for many of the scenes, translated into language of

the present, realistic, naturalistic, in the language of the

realistic, naturalistic novel, could be quite offensive. But I

find it not offensive.

Q. So far as these realistic, naturalistic novels of the

present are concerned, do you find that they treat sex in as

explicit detail as this book does?

Mr. Sullivan: Objection, your Honor.

The Court: I will allow it.

A. I think that in many novels, and John Updike’s “Rab-

bit Run” come to mind, in one particular passage, it is just

as explicit, if not even more explicit, a treatment of sex—

passages in James Baldwin. Now, I am not saying that

they are particularly offensive. Mary McCarthy approaches

[fol. 72] it in a more clinical way—lI find it more enjoyable,

myself, to read John Cleland, though I hate to say this

about Mary McCarthy.

The Court: Have you found books with as many repeti-

tive sexual experiences as this book?

The Witness: Well, the episodic nature of this 18th cen-

tury novel, which often belongs to the genre, makes it almost

inevitable that one will have a repetition of the same sort

of thing over again. On the other hand, I think that in the

ease of Baldwin, that the total import of the book rests,

at least as I see it, upon all values, all themselves resolved

in terms of fundamental sexual relations. In that sense,

I would say it has more sex in it, but to answer your ques-

tion, in a quantitative count, I would say no, probably.

66

Q. I want to make sure I understand you on what you

said about the style as it affects the response of the reader.

Would you mind going into that a little bit more?

A. I think one can say that, in the response to a work of

art, as perhaps you all know, one cannot separate the form

from the content, but, very often, there is a slight emphasis

on one over the other. Teachers often teach from the stand-

point of content—I find people in comparative literature

tend to do this—rather than paying attention to the total

work of art, the formal value.

What I found amazing in this book is the style itself,

the words, the language, the metaphor—and we do have

evidence that Cleland himself was aware of this—and we

have a rather eccentric theory of language—I believe Mr.

Quennell points this out in the introduction—concerned

with language, with metaphorical expression, and one re-

sponds to that when one is reading about the sexual, when

one is reading the novel, and particularly the sexual epi-

sodes, It rescues—put it this way, the language transmutes

what might have been, what could be a brutal or raw and

directly expressed vulgar situation into something literary.

I don’t know if that answers it.

Q. It does.

Mr. Rembar: I have no further questions.

[fol. 73] Cross examination.

By Mr. Sullivan:

Q. A vulgar situation; do you find “Fanny Hill” vulgar

at points?

A. I do not find it vulgar, if I know what you mean by

vulgar.

Q. Offensive?

A. Offensive, no. I do not find it at all offensive.

Q. You say that this book has some literary merit. I be-

lieve you used the phrase “not great” and “not profound.”

A. Right.

Q. But some value?

A. Some value.

67

Q. That value is that sex with love is a good thing.

A. Well, put that way, that is a rather amateur, crude

way of putting it, but fundamentally—

Q. I think I wrote down your words.

A. Yes, I know. I am criticizing myself, sir, not you.

Q. Does Fanny love all the characters she has—

A. She doesn’t love, but you will notice, I think, if you

read it carefully, that she, in every instance except the

flagellation episode, has to feel, or wants to feei, some kind

of tender feeling, if you will, or have some tender feeling.

You will notice that throughout there is much concern with

manners; she may find that the man was very mannerly

and she admires his manners.

Q. She had no tender feeling when she was trapped, as

we are wont to have said earlier, into observing the homo-

sexuality scene.

A. She was outraged by that.

Q. She was angered and disgusted?

A. She was angered. I am trying to say that even in her

profession she is constantly reflecting, and this has been

brought out before, she is constantly reflecting, she is re-

flecting upon the manners of people.

Q. If the literary merit that grows out of this novel is

that sex with love is a good thing, what purpose can be

[fol. 74] served by depicting the homosexual scene? If that

is a literary merit that comes out of this book, could not

that purpose have been served otherwise?

A. I suppose it could, except that that scene does help to

define the character of Fanny. She is a—if I may quote a

phrase used with admiration about Mr. H., “He is a rational

pleasurist,” and she same something of this herself. In

other words, I think perhaps one can justify that scene on

the grounds that it further develops the character of Fanny.

Q. But it has no particular relationship to the literary

merit you draw out of the book, the literary merit that you

suggest would be there without the homosexual scene?

A. No, I see what you mean, but I feel a work of art is

an organic whole, and if you lop off any part, you destroy

the whole.

68

Q. You feel this is a work of art?

A. Yes, a minor work of art.

Q. Do you also think it is obscene?

Mr. Rembar: Same objection, your Honor.

The Court: Objection denied.

Mr. Rembar: Exception.

The Court: Exception noted.

A. If I should answer that—may I ask a question? If

I say No, I don’t want to be forced to define “obscene” be-

cause I am not sure what you are getting at, but I do not

think that—

Q. Supposing—

A. I do not find the book offensive. I do not find the book

offensive. I find it erotic.

Q. Would you accept the definition of “obscene” as dis-

gusting to the senses?

A. As disgusting to whom, sir?

[fol. 75] Q. The sense, senses, our senses?

A. Our senses—if that is the definition, I would say it is

not obscene.

Q. Do you feel that the book arouses prurient interest in

the reader?

A. Well, once again, I do feel that I cannot judge. I am

not qualified to judge this matter. This is a matter for a

sociologist.

Q. I think that’s a very accurate answer. Do you also

feel, with regard to the characters in this book, at any given

time during the book, that they all have some relationship

to the depicting of a sexual relationship of some sort?

A. AsI recall, I think yes; yes.

Q. And if we were to remove all the sexual relations out

of this book, how much of the book will we have left, pro-

portionately?

Mr. Rembar: Same objection, your Honor. It is the same

question.

The Court: Same ruling.

Mr. Rembar: Exception.

The Court: Exception noted.

69

A. Well, once again, you see, we are involved in this

question of the relationship between form and content. The

work of art is achieved content. By just taking and extract-

ing something and saying what is left, you have an entirely

different work of art.

Q. I know it is difficult, perhaps, because I am sure you

are an accomplished literary person, and I respect you for

that, but let’s try to look at this coldly and factually. On

the great number of sexual relationships that are recited in

this book—and they are recited quite explicitly, are they

not?

A. Are you talking about just the acts that are described

or the reflections about the acts, the thoughts?

[fol. 76] Q. Both.

A. Both. If you went through and took all these out—

that is what you are saying—presuming we could all agree

on what was sexual, whether it was offensively sexual or

not—

Q. Just your opinion, not what I would agree on; just

what you feel.

A. May I answer that this way, by saying that I would

disagree with the former witness who said it was less than

fifty percent of the book that deals with sexual matters.

Q. Do you feel it would go as high as seventy-five per-

cent?

A. Well, I am not—

Q. You don’t want to beggar the issue?

Mr. Rembar: I repeat the objection.

The Court: He didn’t make any answer.

Mr. Sullivan: Thank you very much, Mr. Sproat.

Redirect examination.

By Mr. Rembar:

Q. When you said that the principal value dealt with in

the book is sex with love is a good thing, you were speaking

in terms of a moral value, were you not, sir?

A. Yes.

Q. There is another sense in which the word value has

been used here, and that is literary value, which, I assume,

70

can consist of many things. So far as literary values go,

did you mean to say that that particular moral concept was

the only value in the book?

A. Oh, no. ‘I meant that this was value in the sense of

a theme in the book—one of the themes, the development

of the character, the structure of the plot, the setting, the

style, and so forth and so on. There are other themes, in

other words, in the novel. This is one of them.

Mr. Rembar: That’s all; thank you.

{fol.77] Norman N. Holland, Sworn.

Direct examination.

By Mr. Rembar:

Q. Would you please state your name and residence ad-

dress?

A. Norman N. Holland, 196 Appleton Street, Cambridge

38.

Q. What is your position, Mr. Holland?

A. My position?

Q. Yes, your occupation?

A. Iam an Associate Professor of English at M.LT.

Q. Have you read the book in issue?

A. Yes, I have.

Q. Do you have an opinion as to its literary merit or

other values?

A. Yes, I do.

Mr. Sullivan: I would like to know more about his quali-

fications, your Honor.

Mr. Rembar: Certainly.

Q. How long have you been teaching, Mr. Holland?

A. I have been teaching eleven years.

Q. Have you taught English literature during that time?

A. Yes, all that time.

Q. During all of it, and you are now an assistant pro-

fessor?

—— 9

71

A. Associate professor.

Q. Pardon me, associate professor, at the Massachusetts

Institute of Technology?

A. Yes.

Mr. Rembar: Is there an objection to the qualifications

of the witness?

[fol.78] Mr. Sullivan: No. He doesn’t look like he has

been teaching eleven years.

The Witness: I better make this clear—I have been

counting two years as a teaching fellow. You asked when

did I begin teaching; I have been full-time teaching nine

years.

Q. I asked you whether you had an opinion. Now I ask

you to state that opinion.

A. It seems to me that the book has literary merit and

it has other values, Let me start with other values. I find

it extremely interesiing from the point of view of a lit-

erary historian, essentially as a record of the historical,

psychological, social evenis of the period.

This is a novel of 1748, which was the great decade of

the growth of the English novel, and it seems to me that

Cleland occupies an interesting place in it, in the transi-

tion from what we.could call the epistolary form, that’s

the use of letters to tell a story, teward a more straight-

forward narrative teclmique.

I find a lot of descriptions of clothes and prices and

customs which are of greatinterest to me, perhaps because

I am a collector of minutiae, I don’t know. I note, for

example, that the servant is, given a silver watch, and

this strikes me as an odd and, interesting custom that I

would like to know more about.

I notice also another 18th cehtury theme, this sense of

inherited as against earned wealth, which is an important

distinction they made.

Also there is the sense of a ruling passion which I think

is a very important part of the theme of the book as a

whole. This is the 18th century’s vefsion of what we would

think of, I suppose, as modern psyehology. I think there

72

is a great deal of insight into the awakening of a woman,

into the sexual act, both its normal and its perverted forms.

It seems to me, too, that we learn something quite im-

portant here about the sexual tastes of the 18th century.

These things, needless to say, are hard to come by, this

kind of information. Here I notice in this book a tendency

(fol. 79] away from nakedness during the sexual act which

I find an interesting sort of sociological observation.

Let me talk for a moment about it simply as a novel.

It seems to me, if I were asked to rank it in terms of its

literary merit, I would put it some place below the works

of Fielding, “Joseph Andrews,” “Tom Jones,” and some

place above Defoe’s “Moll Flanders” which makes it, I

would say, not a great novel but certainly a rather good

one.

In terms of the values of a novel, I think we ask that

it come together in a meaningful artistic whole, and it

seems to me that this novel does. We would ask that the

style and the content work together to create a meaningful

experience, and we would ask that the form of the novel

and its theme come together to create, again, a meaningful

experience.

A number of the other witnesses have commented on

the style of the novel which seems to me to be very im-

portant. The technical term that an English teacher uses

is periphrasis, which is the Greek form of the Latin cir-

cumlocution, and I suppose English teachers use it because

it makes us sound more learned. But, essentially, all we

mean is it is not calling a spade a spade. It is masking

over the events described by different kinds of metaphors

and figures of speech, as, for example, when she is in her

encounter with the sailor, she slips into nautical figures

of speech. She refers constantly to the male sexual organ

as an engine, this kind of thing, which is pulling you away

from the way these events would be described in the 19th

or 20th century.

It seems to me that this style of the whole pervades and

affects our response and makes an important contribution

——————

—

73

to it, specifically, a sense of masking over the events de-

scribed, and this is why I think the tendency to play down

nakedness in the actual events of the novel is quite inter-

esting because the style itself is trying to cover over.

Curiously, Fanny says she is going to give us a naked

truth; on the other points, she says she will draw the

curtains, and so on. There is a great deal of interest here

in what is going to be revealed, made plain, and what is

going to be held back.

[fol. 80] Another way in which the form or structure of

the novel worl together with the theme, it seems to me,

is in the sexual acts themselves, that Cleland is using the

various sexual acts in the novel to trace the moral progress

of his heroine, That is, she starts out with sexual epi-

sodes which are not the sexual relations between an adult

man and an adult woman, and it is only with her encounter

with Charles that she achieves sex with a man, and also

with love, as it turns out.

Then she goes farther and farther away from this ideal

through the next third, roughly, of the novel. The various

episodes that have been mentioned here, the watching of

the homosexuals, the masochists, the encounter with the

sailor and so on, all of these fall farther and farther away

from her ideal relationship with Charles. Then, at the end

of the novel, she encounters the rational pleasurist and

becomes his heiress, both in money and in wisdom, and

shifts over to Charles, discovers Charles again, and comes

back to sex with love.

It seems to me that the sexual content of the novel is

part and parcel of the theme of the novel. I would agree

with the statement that the theme of the novel, in a sim-

pliefid form, is that sex with love is a good thing, morally,

psychologically.

This, it seems to me, is all tied up with the style, with

the sense of covering things over; that, simply, the raw

passion, the ruling passion as Fanny calls it, is not enough,

that it has to be with love, with marriage, with, if you like,

18th century poetic diction.

a “8h RRS

74

In short, it seems to me this is a novel that comes to-

gether beautifully and, well, I was quite pleased to dis-

cover it when the publisher brought it out.

Q. Mr. Holland, do you find any observations about

people, human behavior, in this book that you deem to be

of interest?

A. Yes. I find that there are two that interest me. The |

first was the awakening of Fanny as a woman to a woman’s |

mature sexuality. It seems to me that Cleland has con-

siderable insight into this process, and that he makes—

[fol. 81] well, one is always grateful when a poet or a nov-

elist can bring his insights out in the open in a way that

they can contribute to the learning of the rest of us.

And this is true, I think, of his treatment of the maso-

chist. That is, he makes it quite clear in the discussion

of the masochist that the pleasure is not in the pain that

the man receives, but rather that the pain serves as a

prepayment, as it were, of his own guilt, that he can then

have the pleasure of the sexual relationship. This, it seems

to me, is a very striking insight. It has only been within

the last twenty years, I think, that modern psychologists

have come around to this view of masochism. It is extraor-

dinary to find it in Cleland in 1748.

Mr. Rembar: That’s all.

Cross examination.

By Mr. Sullivan:

Fanny used the words “ruling passion”, did she?

. Yes, she did.

What is that ruling passion?

. Sexuality, the sexual drive.

Find much of it in this book?

. Yes, a good deal.

How much of the book is devoted to sexual relatious?

. Mr. Sullivan, are you speaking of numbers of pages

or of the book as an artistic whole?

a: RPE MORI TRAE SANE = Seta emf _—

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he. wih A eee

75

Mr. Rembar: Your Honor, may I repeat the objection

and save the exception?

The Court: All right.

Q. Percentific wise.

A. Mr. Sullivan, I don’t understand how you can talk

about a book in percentages.

Q. Would you answer my question?

A. A book is an artistic whole. You can’t divide it into

percentiles.

[fol.82] Mr. Sullivan: May the Court instruct the wit-

ness to answer the question?

The Court: How much of the book was devoted to sexual

episodes? Is that your question?

Mr. Sullivan: Yes.

Mr. Rembar: I think the answer was that he can’t an-

swer it.

Mr. Sullivan: Why doesn’t he say he can’t answer it?

Mr. Rembar: He said so and explained.

The Court: He didn’t say that. He said you had to con-

sider it as a whole.

The question is permissible.

A. May I expand on this?

Q. No. You said that oftentimes Cleland refers to the

male sex organ as an engine.

A. I said, I think, Fanny refers to it as an engine.

Q. Fanny does; Cleland through Fanny?

A. Well, there is a difference. I like to keep the dif-

ference.

Q. Well, the term “engine” is used for the male sex

organ?

A. Yes.

Q. Often in the book?

A. Yes.

Q. And the term “machine”?

A. Yes.

Q. You also say that a theme of the book is to play down

nakedness?

be... MED) LR NEL RAR ARTI ORE De IIR SY RR REA

76

A. No, not a theme. Just as these various sexual acts

happen, you notice that nakedness does not occur as often

as I suspect it would among modern Americans in similar

situations.

[fol. 83] Q. Well, in these references to the engine ard

the machine, is the machine naked at this point?

A. Well, it could hardly not be.

Q. Would you say this was a vivid description?

A. No, it is not vivid at all. It is just the opposite.

Q. Played down?

A. No, it is distance. You are given this peculiar comic

perspective. My goodness, the word engine or machine

conjures up to me notions of watchworks and the like. This

is an odd, an interesting kind of description.

Q. Maybe a paper mill?

A. Well, not—

The Court: In the foreword, Mr. Quennell calls it “bodily

equipment”.

Q. Isn’t the machine and/or engine quite minutely de-

scribed on a number of occasions in the book?

A. Yes, provided that you recognize it; it is a peculiar

kind of 18th century language.

Q. Will you answer Yes or No, Doctor?

A. Mr. Sullivan, all I am trying to say—

Q. Can you give me a Yes or No answer?

A. Not exactly.

Q. I don’t care what you are trying to say. I want you

to answer my question.

A. It is not described the way a 20th century writer

would describe it if you were minutely describing some-

thing.

The Court: The question was, in the book, was not this

machine or engine quite specifically described?

The Witness: Well, all right, although I still insist that

it is in this funny, 18th century language, special 18th cen-

tury language.

Q. The answer is Yes?

A. The answer is Yes, but—

Sere eo

we

£1 eA APNE ARE a APES ARE RRO PT

77

[fol. 84] The Court: You don’t need to ask that question

again. I read the book. There is a lot of description in the

book about these various episodes. I think I understand

a description whether given in the 18th century or not.

Q. Are you married, Dr. Holland?

A. Yes, I am, Mr. Sullivan. .

Q. Would you use the type of language that is used in

this book over the breakfast table with your wife?

A. I would, were I so skilled to speak it.

Q. Would you use this language with a group of eight or

ten couples that might come into your home for tea?

A. Yes.

Q. You would?

A. As I say, if I could.

Mr. Sullivan: That’s all.

Redirect examination.

By Mr. Rembar:

Q. Mr. Holland, are you familiar with the Horatio Horn-

blower novels of Mr. Forester?

A. Dimly. I used to read them when I was a kid.

The Court: You say dimly?

The Witness: Dimly.

The Court: It reminds me of the use of the words “dim

beacon” in the “Tropic of Cancer” case.

Mr. Rembar: In the minority opinion, your Honor.

Q. Would you say that those novels dealt in large part

with the activity of sailing?

A. Yes.

{fol. 85} Q. Would you also say that there is almost no

character in that book who is not involved in some way

or another in sailing ships?

A. Right; I think that’s correct.

Q. As a student of the novel, can you tell me whether it

has ever heen thought to be a literary requirement that a

novel deal with all aspects of life?

78

A. No, not particularly. A novel necessarily has to limit

itself to the scene somewhat and that sort of thing.

Q. Does it deprive a novel of its quality of a work of art

if it deals with one aspect of life as, for example, sailing

ships?

A. No, not at all.

Mr. Rembar: That’s all; thank you.

The Court: Two o’clock.

(Noon recess.)

Afternoon Session

at 2:00 o’clock P.M.

CoLLoqguy BeTwEEN CourT AND COUNSEL RE EXHIBITS

Mr. Rembar: If the Court please, before proceeding with

my next witness, I would like to offer in evidence copies of

certain newspapers, photocopies, and an original copy of

LIFE Magazine.

The Attorney General does not question their authentic-

ity, but takes the position that they are not relevant.

They have to do with the treatment of Profumo-Ward

scandals last summer in newspapers and magazines of gen-

eral circulation. I submit that under the cases cited in

my brief, these materials are admissible and relevant.

[fol. 86] The Court: To what cases are you referring?

Mr. Rembar: I am referring to the case of United States

vs. Roth; the case of Smith vs. California, and the case in

this state of Attorney General vs. Tropic of Cancer. These

bear on the issue, I say, of contemporary community stand-

ards.

The Court: The ones we had this morning are concerning

the opinions of certain persons holding themselves out as

critics. Each one of those concerned was some opinion

testimony of a witness who is not here, and purely trying

to get in opinion evidence in violation of the hearsay rules.

79

Mr. Rembar: In that connection, I know your Honor

has ruled, but I should like to offer those book reviews

which came up this morning in evidence, and your Honor

has ruled, I think, that they will not be accepted, but I

wish to make the formal offer.

The Court: I have acted on those this morning and I

have protected your rights. I don’t see any need to go over

it again.

Mr. Rembar: Yes, sir. Well, now, on this material, how-

ever, it goes to a different issue. Those were offered on

the matter of literary merit. What I have here is offered

for quite a different purpose and it has to do with a dif-

ferent test of obscenity. It has to do with the criterion of

whether a particular work transgresses contemporary com-

munity standards and what the Court has called customary

limits of candor.

I wish to show through this evidence that the public was

quite inured to the very type of happening that is portrayed

in the novel, was inured to it through seeing it in news-

papers and in magazines.

The Court: I will hear you.

Mr. Sullivan: I wish to object, your Honor.

Again, we agreed with my brother that the authenticity

of these articles is not contested. However, we are dealing

[fol. 87] here with what the public thinks, and I do not feel

that that is a proper method of approaching what the con-

temporary mores or the candor of a given member of the

public is.

As your Honor has most correctly pointed out, my objec-

tion also relates to the inadmissibility on hearsay grounds.

But specifically on the ground of what the public mores

may have been while this book is published, I do not believe

that these publications are relevant or material to that ques-

tion.

Mr. Rembar: I wish to point out only one further thing,

that, so far as the hearsay rule is concerned, these are

not being offered in order to establish the truth of their

contents. They are being offered only to show what the

80

general public was reading at about the time this book was

published.

The Court: When was it published?

Mr. Rembar: June, 1963.

The Court: Is that agreed to? You mean this paperback

edition?

Mr. Sullivan: I have November of 1963.

Mr. Rembar: It was in the fall, September, October.

The Court: Can you agree that it was either imported,

sold, loaned, or distributed in the Commonwealth?

Mr. Rembar: We agree.

Mr. Sullivan: That’s an admission in the answer, your

Honor.

The Court: Of course, one issue in a case like this is

what are the community standards in relation to decency.

Let me see the papers.

This particular book was banned in this Commonwealth

as early as—

{fol.88] Mr. Sullivan: 1821, your Honor.

Mr. Rembar: It was an illustration, your Honor, that

caused the trouble. I think the report of the case so indi-

ca‘ es.

'The Court: I think in one of the forewords I read it said

that this was the first case in America that a book was sup-

pressed for obscenity.

Mr. Rembar: Yes, sir.

The Court: This involves the same book.

Mr. Sullivan: 17 Mass.

The Court: I will take a recess and look them over.

(Short recess.)

The Court: Gentlemen, in reality, these are reports con-

cerning the morality standards, or lack of morality stand-

ards, of England. Of course, we have to go by our particu-

lar community in the Comomnwealth of Massachusetts.

However, these were printed in LIFE and I probably should

take judicial notice that LIFE has a large circulation in

Massachusetts.

a

81

I think I will admit them. Then you will have to argue,

gentlemen, if they are helpful or not in deciding the issue

before me. Just a cursory reading of them indicates that

these late events are quite different than those detailed in

the book.

Mr. Sullivan: Will the Court save my rights?

The Court: Yes.

I will mark the LIFE ro Exhibit B.

(June 21, 1963 issue of LIFE Magazine marked Exhibit

B.)

{fol.89] The Court: Boston Record-American, July Ist,

1963, Exhibit C.

(Photocopy of Page 5, Boston Record-American for July

1, 1963, marked Exhibit C.)

The Court: Boston Record-American for July 23, 1963,

two pages, Exhibit D.

(Photocopies of Pages 3 and 25, Boston Record-American

for July 23, 1963, marked Exhibit D.)

The Court: Boston Record-American, July 25, 1963, two

pages, Exhibit E.

(Photocopies of pages 3 and 33, Boston Record-American

for July 25, 1963, marked Exhibit E.)

The Court: Boston Record-American for June 29, 1963,

two pages, Exhibit F.

(Photocopies of pages 3 and 4, Boston Record-American

for June 29, 1963, marked Exhibit F.)

The Court: Boston Globe for July 25, 1963, Exhibit G.

(Photocopy of page 10, Boston Globe, July 25, 1963,

marked Exhibit G.)

The Court: Boston Traveler for July 23, 1963, Exhibit H.

(Photocopy of page 13, Boston Traveler, July 23, 1963,

marked Exhibit H.)

82

The Court: Boston Traveler, July 23, 1963, Exhibit I.

(Photocopy of page 12, Boston Traveler, July 23, 1963,

marked Exhibit I.)

[fol. 90] The Court: It will be noted that all those photo-

static copies of the newspaper articles and the article in

LIFE Magazine are admitted over the objection of the Com-

monwealth, and the Commonwealth has excepted to the ad-

mission of each. This action is not being brought by the

Commonweath—it is brought by the Attorney General of the

Commonwealth.

Mr. Sullivan: The Attorney General’s exception.

The Court: All right.

Water Minton, Sworn

Direct examination:

By Mr. Rembar:

Q. Would you please state your name and place of resi-

dence? .

A. Walter Minton; I live in Saddle River, New Jersey.

Q. Are you an officer of the corporation which is the inter-

vener here?

. Ian the president of G. P. Putnam’s and Sons.

What is G. P. Putnam’s and Sons?

. We are publishers of books.

. How long has Putnam’s been publishing books?

. Since 1838.

. How long have you been president of Putnam’s?

. I have been president of Putnam’s for nine years.

. Would you name some of the authors that Putnam’s

has ‘published over the century and a quarter?

OPOPOopop

Mr. Rembar: Objection, your Honor.

The Court: I will allow it.

{fol.91] A. Putnam’s has always operated in New York

and, as a Middle Atlantic publisher, in our early history, we

83

have published some of the writers of the New York school,

including Washington Irving, James Fennimore Cooper;

not from New York, but Edgar Allan Poe; Herman Melville;

in more recent years, Sholem Asch; Vladimir Nabokov. We

distribute books of Pearl Buck.

Q. Prior to the publication of “Memoirs of a Woman of

Pleasure,” had Putnam’s ever been involved in an obscene

case?

The Court: What is the purpose, please?

Mr. Rembar: I want to show the standing and reputation

of the firm that published this book, your Honor.

The Court: This action is against the book itself, not

against the publisher.

Mr. Rembar: Very well.

Q. After you published this book, did you receive any

orders for it from colleges or libraries?

A. A considerable number.

Q. Can you name a few of the colleges?

A. Off the top of my head, I would be hard pressed,

other than that I know in the Boston area we had almost

immediate orders from the Widener Library at Harvard,

from the library at M.I.T., and from a great many other,

although, specifically, there is a list. We have compiled

these, but I can’t remember exactly.

~ Q. Your answer is sufficient. After the publication of this

book, did you receive a communication from the Library of

Congress?

A. As I remember, we had two communications: one,

that we had not filed a copy of the book in the Library of

Congress, which we would ordinarily do for copyright pur-

poses, and they wanted one for the Library; then, of course,

later on, there was a request to translate the book into

Braille, which the Library of Congress does with a number

of books it deems of general interest.

[fol. 92] Q. Was this book distributed through the ordi-

nary channels of distribution that Putnam’s employs for its

list generally?

84

A. Yes, sir, through our normal bookstore accounts and

through wholesalers who service many smaller bookstores as

well as supplying public and college libraries.

Mr. Rembar: That’s all.

Mr. Sullivan: I have no questions.

Tra Konicsserc, Sworn

Direct examination.

By Mr. Rembar:

Q. Mr. Konigsberg, will you please give us your full

name and place of residence?

A. My name is Ira Konigsberg, and I live in Concord,

Mass.

Q. What is your occupation, Mr. Konigsberg?

A. Iam an Assistant Professor of English and American

literature at Brandeis University, Waltham.

Q. How long have you been teaching literature?

A. Nine years.

Q. Do you have any specialties within the field?

A. Yes, 18th century literature, particularly the 18th

century novel.

Q. Are you at work on a book concerning the 18th cen-

tury novel?

A. I am finishing at present a book that deals with the

early 18th century novel—that is, the years from 1700 up

through 1740’s; to be more specific, 1753 is where I stop.

Q. The book in issue here, then, comes at the very end

of that period?

A. Yes, that’s right.

Q. You have read the book, I assume?

A. Yes.

[fol.93] Q. Do you have an opinion as to its literary merit

or other values?

A. Yes, I do.

85

Q. Would you please state that opinion?

A. My opinion is that it is an extremely significant liter-

ary work, and I base that opinion upon three standards.

One is that it is significant as a literary document for a

modern day reader; two is that it is significant as a liter-

ary document in the history of English literature; and

three, that it is an extremely important literary work in

terms of the moral values that a literary work can advocate.

I can explain those three a little more specifically if you

want.

Q. I wish you would.

A. In terms of its literary value for the contemporary

reader, the work is one of those rare things, it is a novel

that succeeds. When I say that it is a novel that succeeds,

I mean it fulfills all the requirements of serious literature

and serious novel writing.

It primarily attempts to create an illusion of reality for

the reader through the creation of realistic characters,

realistically portrayed in a semi-credible or realistic situa-

tion.

Secondly, it is an organized, shaped, patterned work of

art. It has all the elements in it—the various episodes, the

chapters, are all unified together for one specific end, and

that is the writing of a complete work of art itself.

On these standards, I think it succeeds, and it succeeds

extremely well.

In terms of its historical importance, I think it is ex-

tremely significant that this particular novel was published

in 1749; that is the year that Fielding’s “Tom Jones” was

published. With Fielding’s work “Tom Jones,” Cleland’s

“Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure” is a very specific re-

action to a kind of literature that was published at the time,

that is, the novels, in particular, of Samuel Richardson.

[{fol. 94] Cleland is part of what I should call this cultural

battle that is going on in the 18th century, a battle between

a restricted Puritan, moralistic ethic that attempts to sup-

press freedom of the spirit, freedom of the flesh, and this

element is competing with a freer attitude towards life, a

ie

more generous attitude towards life’ a more wholesome

attitude towards life, and this very attitude that is mani-

fested in Fielding’s great novel “Tom Jones” is also evident

in Cleland’s novel.

This work is of extreme importance in this aspect. In |

fact, Cleland himself echoes parts of Richardson’s works.

As you know, Richardson wrote two novels. His first

novel, “Pamela,” is the first English novel, first modern

English novel, and this was published in 1740. The second

work Richardson wrote was “Clarissa” which was published

1747 to 1748, Cleland’s work, with “Tom Jones,” comes in

1749.

Q. Excuse me—you say Cleland’s work with; you mean

Cleland’s work and “Tom Jones”?

A. Both published in 1749. I will mak@ this brief.

“Pamela” is the story of a young country girl; “Clarissa”

is the story of a woman trapped in a house of prostitution.

Obviously, then, Cleland takes both these themes, the coun-

try girl, her initiation into life and into experience, and the

story of a woman in a house of prostitution, and what he

simply does is to take the situation and reverse the moral

standards.-

Richardson believed that chastity was the most important

thing in the world; Cleland and Fielding obviously did not

and thought there were more important significant moral

values.

So, just to sum up this point, the work is of historical im-

portance, one, because it tells us about a cultural conflict in

the 18th century; two, because it tells us something about

the literary plots and character types that were being used.

[fol. 95] To add a footnote to that, there is a long tradi-

tion of the young girl coming from the country and being

brought to a brothel and being experienced into life. These

works are readily available in libraries, and Cleland’s work

is part of this tradition. It begins in 1677 with the play by

John Leonard, “Country Innocents;” it goes right up until

Lillo’s play, in 1738, “Marina.” All of these deal with simi-

86

_—

87

lar situations. Cleland then is taking a very typical literary

plot and very typical literary characters that are prevalent

in the literature of this period and he is using them in the

situation that the common reader of the period would be

used to, only he is infusing his own particular moral ethic.

And thirdly it is important historieally because it tells

us something about the development of the English novel

as a literary form.

This cannot be emphasized enough. Before 1740, there

is simply no modern English novel. The works of Daniel

Defoe that are published throughout the first few decades

come closest, but they lack what Cleland’s novel possesses,

and for this reason Cleland is one of the first three English

novelists, or the first three writers of English fiction to

write what we today call a modern novel.

Q. Mr. Konigsberg, when you say Defoe’s works lack

what Cleland’s work possesses, what do you have in mind?

A. Well, very simply, DeFoe’s works are the culmination

of a tradition in English fiction, a culmination of a tradition

which I think we best call the fictitious history. He is

working along these lines; he brings a few further elements

to it.

What Richardson introduces to the novel is an extensive

amount of psychological realism, a specific creation of emo-

tional qualities. In other words, he is emphasizing the

| humanistic qualities of his characters, the realistic quali-

ties of them as real people.

Q. You find this in Cleland’s work as well as Richard-

son’s?

A. Cleland’s work as well as Richardson and Fielding.

So, in the presentation, then, of realistic characters and

realistic situations with emphasis upon emotional reac-

[fol. 96] tion and emphasis upon psychology, Cleland is

right there at the beginning, and his work is extremely

significant in this way.

Secondly, stylistically—I should say fourthly at this point

—the work is important in telling us something about the

literary history of the novel. The prose style which has

88

been referred to by the previous witnesses has been called

typical of the 18th century and highly artificial. What has

not been specifically stated is the way in which Cleland

uses this prose style and which makes him such a remark-

able, I think, literary figure, at least literary stylist of the

novel. That is, within the framework of the traditional 18th

century prose style which is sort of a free, loose, yet at the

same time balanced kind of sentence, he is on the one hand

creating for us remarkably realistic sense, particular sense

in a novel extremely realistically portrayed, and on the

other hand creates for us a kind of impressionistic writing.

That is, many of the scenes, I go so far as to say most of

the scenes, are portrayed to us as Fanny sees them, and

what is generally called common metaphor becomes in her

hands, or rather in her language, a means of expressing

exactly how she feels to the experience. This also is simply

not done in this period.

So, in all of these bases, I claim that this is an important

novel. Cleland is not one of the six major novelists of the

period, but he is significantly better than the rest of the

minor figures. He somehow falls short of Richardson,

Fielding, and Defoe, but if you have read novels of the

minors, Mrs. Haywood, Sterne, he is supremely superior

to them.

The third and last point I want to make is that I think

it is an important literary book because, if vou consider

that serious literature must itself make some kind of serious

statement about life and experience, I think this book

does, and I think it is extremely important to us as a liter-

ary document in this period.

In our own culture, which is advocating, through films

and through TV plays, an unhealthy attitude towards the

human body—

[fol.97] The Court: Just a moment. He is arguing now.

Q. Mr. Konigsberg, iet me go back for a moment. In

describing the early development of the novel, you said

that there were two rather antithetical ideas, a sort of a

me

contest between these early novelists. I want to make sure

I understand who is on which side.

A. I wouldn’t call it a contest. May I just specifically

give you the context of this sort of cultural battle concern-

ing life? We can begin with the Commonwealth. The Com-

monwealth is the period of extreme suppression of, you

know, freedom of life.

Q. You are referring to the Commonwealth in 17th cen-

tury England?

A. 17th century. It is followed, of course, by the Restcra-

tion, which is a reaction to that, which is an excessive kind

of libertine life and excessive sexual freedom. This is fol-

lowed by a very significant middle class reaction, the be-

ginning of the 18th century of which Richardson, you know,

is part. That is, it has its Puritanical emphasis upon chas-

tity as a reaction to the kind of Restoration, or cavalier,

attitude towards life. In reaction to the kind of thing Rich-

ardson is doing, you have Fielding and Cleland who are

irying to advocate again a more wholesome view of life

itself and the relationship between the sexes.

If I could just make this last point, in relation to that,

in relation to the point I was going to make, and that is

that the book—

The Court: Just a moment. Keep the witness under con-

trol, please.

Mr. Rembar: The witness has said he would like to make

one last point in relation to that.

The Court: I know it. You are the gentleman who has

to argue the ease.

Mr. Rembar: I think, your Honor, that he is helping me

with my argument by putting this book in its proper his-

torical context.

[fol.98] The Court: Let’s abide by the rules of evidence,

the rules of law in the presentation of cases in court.

Mr. Rembar: I submit, your Honor, that under the

law, as presently established, the place of any work in its

historical context is of the utmost importance.

89

90

The Court: You just proceed and ask questions of the

witness.

‘. Mr. Konigsberg, you referred to the attitude toward

st.. ‘ich you find manifested in John Cleland’s book. It

may be helpful to us if you would compare that with the

attitude towards sex manifested in the contemporary novel,

or in a good many contemporary novels.

Mr. Sullivan: I object, your Honor.

The Court: That’s just a statement, that :t might be

helpful if you compare it?

Mr. Rembar: I would like him to compare it. I would

like his opinion. He has been qualified as an expert on it,

in this field. I would like his opinion of the literary treat-

ment of the subject matter of this book as compared with

the literary treatment of the subject matter of various con-

temporary novels.

The Court: Well, your various contemporary novels—

Mr. Rembar: I mean contemporary novels that deal with

the subject of sex, which this book does.

Mr. Sullivan: We don’t have any of those before the

Court, your Honor.

Mr. Rembar: They are part of our culture, your Honor,

and if any book is to be evaluated, it must be evaluated in

relation to other things that constitute part of that same

culture.

[fol. 99] The Court: Yes, but you are asking about other

contemporary novels. I have to have some idea what books

you are referring to.

Mr. Rembar: All right. I will refer to “Giovanni’s Room”

by James Baldwin, to “Run, Rabbit, Run” by Jchn Updike,

to “The Group” by Mary McCarthy, to “The Naked and

the Dead” by Norman Mailer, to “From Here to Eternity”

by James Jones.

The Court: What is your question?

Mr. Rembar: My question is this: how in the opinion

of this witness does the treatment of sex in these modern

novels compare with the treatment of sex in the novel be-

fore the Court?

——

—

Mr Sullivan: I object, your Honor.

The Court: I will allow it.

A. Yes. The treatment in Cleland’s novel is obviously

more healthy, and this can be simply subs

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