As I began reading The Refinement of America by Richard Bushman, I was curious, but slightly concerned. As much as I enjoy spending time in front of museum display cases filled with cups, saucers, pitchers, silverware, flatware and cutlery, the idea of reading an entire book that may well have turned out to be nothing more than a catalog of household items seemed dull in the extreme. Had I taken the time to read the chapter titles before diving into the text, I would have discovered earlier that I was very much mistaken.
Bushman does indeed spend much time discussing household items that seem mundane in their ubiquity and function in our very middle class world. However, he does so in prose that is easy to read, even in its details. He breaks down his chapters into short sections, rarely longer than five or six pages, which make it very easy to get through without feeling intimidated by the statistics. I found myself being pleasantly surprised at how much of what he had to say resonated with me as I thought of my own childhood and the importance of my parents’ wedding china and silverware, the ritual of Sunday dinners and the manners we were expected to learn. It was not infrequent that something in any one of the chapters inspired me to nod in remembrance or agreement.
The book is explicitly organized chronologically, beginning in 1700 and moving forward to 1850. Geographically, it moves from the coastal towns of the Colonies inward to the first cities of the new United States. Thematically, Bushman moves from discussions that focus almost entirely on furniture or some specific household item (like forks) to larger themes of power and culture and the spread of gentrification.
It is rather like taking a course in calculus, where what you learn at the beginning of the course will come back again and again throughout, and you must take care to pay attention because the little things do matter, even though at the time they seem simple and unimportant. Ultimately, forks matter very much. Aside from the handy cocktail party trivia about the appearance and spread of such silverware; the placement, use and ease of use has become very telling in a person’s character and upbringing. The importance of upbringing and ease in gentility and gentrified life is a theme that Bushman introduces very early on which continues, even to the last. And with good reason, as the culture he is describing from its infancy and on is very concerned with such things.
I found the discussion of urban planning especially interesting. The idea that it was a hobby of the unemployed upper classes to design and plan urban areas is ludicrous to me in this day and age, but sadly appropriate for the time. I say ‘sadly’ because there doesn’t seem to be much emphasis on the actual living space of the ordinary people who live in cities. The problem of designing both civic and commercial space is one that brings up another (potentially) peculiarly American urban attitude. Our cities seem to grow the most when the areas devoted to commerce are emphasized. There is very little importance placed on the civic buildings and needs – they become a side thought in the larger cities or take the place of commerce in the smaller ones. Most of our states’ capitols are not the largest cities. Bushman gives the example of London as a European city struggling to meet both needs, and how it functioned as an example to the designers of urban areas in New England.
"The subordination of civic to commercial seems inevitable in middle-class
American, with its homegrown elite based on trade and agriculture and its lack
of titled lords. Commercial London would be re-created in the colonies, it would
seem, not Westminster. And yet the idea of a balanced city with ceremonial civic
space to match its wharves and warehouses would not die. (154)"
As I write this, it occurs to me that Bushman is following a certain bias that we in the States seem to have. He never moves West of Philadelphia. It is telling that this book about refinement, with all of its breadth and intensity, is just as mired in the old ways as the old ways themselves. It is also telling that at no point does he explicitly acknowledge this, perhaps with good reason. We began on the East Coast. Those cities and museums and battlefields hold the monuments of our history. We have moved the manners of the East across the Plains and the Rockies and down to the Pacific. Now, we move the painted facades and quaint looking street signs into long neglected urban areas and dying small towns, without thinking of the larger ramifications or longer term results.
Bushman, Richard. The Refinement of America: Persons, Houses, Cities. Vintage Books. New York. 1992. 504 pgs.
Also - the bibliography is heaven and the index is wonderful. I wish that fiction writers would do this sometimes.
