Before Nathanael West's Miss Lonelyhearts was published in April, 1933, early versions of five chapters had appeared separately in periodicals.¹ A comparison of these early chapters with the versions in the book shows that West made revisions of varying significance on all levels, some throwing light on the basic conception and meaning of the book, and some revealing no more than West's personal preferences in diction and phrasing. An analysis of the revisions is highly rewarding because it helps to clarify the author's aims, some features of his thought, and the technical means by which he solved certain problems of style and structure.

     The first of the early chapters (February, 1932) gave "Miss Lonelyhearts" a real name too -- Thomas Matlock -- but this was an idea which, for good reasons, West soon discarded. The use of a real name eliminates the omnipresent irony of such sentences as "While they held the lamb, Miss Lonelyhearts crouched over it and began to chant" (p. 23),² "Miss Lonelyhearts stood at the bar, swaying slightly to the remembered music" (p. 37), or "Miss Lonelyhearts lay on his bed fully dressed, just as he had been dumped the night before" (p. 43). The jolting incongruity in

February, 1932

Thomas Matlock, the Miss Lonelyhearts of the New York Evening Hawk (Are you in trouble? Do you need advice? Write to Miss Lonelyhearts and she will help you), decided to walk from the Hawk Building across the park to Delehanty's speakeasy. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," p. 80)

April, 1933

The Miss Lonelyhearts of The New York Post-Dispatch (Are-you-in-trouble? -- Do-you-need-advice? -- Write-to-Miss-Lonely hearts-and-she-will-help-you) sat at his desk and stared at a piece of white cardboard. (p. 1)

     Apparently dissatisfied with the weaknesses incurred by giving Miss Lonelyhearts a name, West tried in May, 1932, another idea, a first person narration. With this technique he could easily maintain his columnist's anonymity and eliminate the disadvantages of the former method. But now further problems arose from the absence of an external voice which could tell Miss Lonelyhearts' adventures with the appearance of objectivity. The sardonically matter-of-fact, seemingly objective narration is a valuable stylistic asset, since to maintain the continual element of surprise there must be only limited insight into Miss Lonelyhearts' thoughts. When, for example, as early as the fourth chapter, Miss Lonelyhearts suddenly plunges his hand into Betty's dress and feels the nipple of her breast, the reader is sure to be shocked, or at least surprised; but if Miss Lonelyhearts had been telling his own story up to this point, West would unavoidably have revealed so much of the man's character that the episode would even have seemed quite natural. Moreover, this point of view would have precluded the ending which West used, wherein Miss Lonelyhearts is shot to death. But even apart from the ending, first person narration would be largely unsuitable in a novel which derives most of its impact from the author's implied ironical judgments of the main character. To use a first person narration and yet preserve the irony, West would have had to portray Miss Lonelyhearts as consciously self-critical, which he clearly is not: though reader and author can plainly see his confusion and incompetence, Miss Lonelyhearts takes himself very seriously, and any change in this view of himself would have affected the whole general meaning of the book. Finally, the early chapter constantly strains one's credulity simply because a cooly detached first-person account of so crucial and emotional an experience as Miss Lonelyhearts' seems implausible dramatically:

May, 1932

Backing away from the bar, I collided with a man holding a glass of whiskey. I turned to beg his pardon and received a blow in the mouth. Later I found myself at a table in the backroom, playing with a loose tooth. I wondered why my hat didn't fit, and discovered a lump on the back of my head. I must have fallen. The hurdle was higher than I had thought.

My anger swung in large drunken circles. . . . ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," p. 24)

April, 1933

He stepped away from the bar and accidentally collided with a man holding a glass of beer. When he turned to beg the man's pardon, he received a punch in the mouth. Later he found himself at a table in the back room, playing with a loose tooth. He wondered why his hat did not fit and discovered a lump on the back of his head. He must have fallen. The hurdle was higher than he had thought.

His anger swung in large drunken circles. . . . (pp. 37-38)

     After May, 1932, there were no major revisions in the conception of Miss Lonelyhearts, but there were still many changes made on a lesser scale. In the chapter published in July, 1932, for example, West experimented with a sort of interior monologue. Instead of having the feature editor Shrike as antagonist in "Miss Lonelyhearts in the Dismal Swamp," a voice in Miss Lonelyhearts' own mind assumes the role. The technique is inconsistent with that of the rest of the book, of course, and it seems very doubtful that Miss Lonelyhearts himself would have had these thoughts. Furthermore, by reapportioning this role to Shrike, West has made him the spokesman for the antagonistic point of view throughout the entire book.³

     There are also many other revisions which give the work unity and continuity. Each chapter in the novel is a single unit which deals with one incident, whereas some of the previously published chapters were more diffuse. In the earlier version of "Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb" the first eight paragraphs told of his preparing to go to Delehanty's, but in the ninth paragraph "He decided against Delehanty's and started home"; in the revision the whole first section was transferred to "Miss Lonelyhearts and the Dead Pan," in which he actually did go to the speakeasy, and thus the dramatic irrelevancy was eliminated. In the original "Miss Lonelyhearts and the Dead Pan" ten of the first twelve paragraphs were devoted to the long letter from Broad-Shoulders; in the revision, this letter is given a chapter to itself ("Miss Lonelyhearts Returns"), leaving the "Dead Pan" chapter to tell solely of the episodes surrounding the evening at Delehanty's. And the original "Miss Lonelyhearts and the Dead Pan" had a serious flaw

     Many of the revisions helped to make the work unified by providing smooth transitions between chapters or paragraphs or sentences. The original "Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man" began bluntly with a new episode, whereas the revised version provides an introductory paragraph to link this chapter with the preceding one, in which Miss Lonelyhearts had been spurned by his fiancee:

May, 1932

I went around to Delehanty's for a drink. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," p. 22)

April, 1933

In the street again, Miss Lonelyhearts wondered what to do next. He was too excited to eat and afraid to go home. He felt as though his heart were a bomb, a complicated bomb that would result in a simple explosion, wrecking the world without rocking it.

He decided to go to Delehanty's for a drink. (p. 33)

     Revision for smoother transition between paragraphs occurred very frequently. During one of Miss Lonelyhearts' dreams the scene changes from a theater to a college dormitory, but in only the revised version is the change accomplished smoothly:

February, 1932

He was back in his college dormitory with Steve Garvey and Jud Hume. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," p. 84)

April, 1933

The scene of the dream changed. He found himself in his college dormitory. With him were Steve Garvey and Jud Hume. (pp. 21-22)

May, 1932

"Get me a drink, and please continue. I'm very much interested in the new thomistic synthesis."

"St. Thomas!" Shrike shouted . . . ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Dead Pan," p. 20)

April, 1933

"Get me a drink and please continue. I'm very much interested in the new thomistic synthesis."

This was just the kind of remark for which Shrike was waiting. "St. Thomas!" he shouted. (p. 14)

May, 1932

Instead of going to Delehanty's . . . ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," p. 25)

April, 1933

Instead of going back to Delehanty's . . . (p. 40)

     Many passages were revised to make the transition smooth from sentence to sentence. Generally, the revisions provide information which was absent in the earlier version and thereby bridge gaps in the logical order of narration. In Miss Lonelyhearts' dream which was mentioned above, the first image features him on a public platform; the revision adds a sentence to explain how the prayer is connected with the rest of the scene:

February, 1932

. . . he found himself before a microphone on the platform of a crowded auditorium. . . . No matter how he struggled his prayer was Shrike's prayer and his voice was the voice of a conductor calling stations. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," p. 83)

April, 1933

. . . he found himself on the stage of a crowded theater. . . . After his act was finished, he tried to lead his audience in prayer. But no matter how hard he struggled, his prayer was one Shrike had taught him and his voice was that of a conductor calling stations. (p. 21)

February, 1932

Jud Hume suggested that they buy one and roast it over a fire in the woods. But it was his idea that they should sacrifice it to God before barbecueing it. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," p. 84)

April, 1933

Jud suggested buying one to roast over a fire in the woods. Miss Lonelyhearts agreed, but on the condition that they sacrifice it to God before barbecuing it. (p. 22)

July, 1932

. . . the bus takes too long while the subway is crowded so you walk behind the enormous millstones of your horse's moist behind . . . ("Miss Lonelyhearts in the Dismal Swamp," p. 2)

April, 1933

The bus takes too long, while the subway is always crowded. So what do you do? So you buy a farm and walk behind your horse's moist behind . . . (p. 78)

May, 1932

I felt warm and sure. Through the light blue tobacco smoke the mahogany bar shone like wet gold. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," pp. 23-24)

April, 1933

The whisky was good and he felt warm and sure. Through the lightblue tobacco smoke, the mahogany bar shone like wet gold. (p. 37)

     Still another kind of unity is achieved through the removal of irrelevant details and undeveloped themes. Economy and clarity seem to have been West's primary aims in these revisions. He strove to eliminate all but the essential words, symbols, and themes, so that the novel might achieve power through its compactness and its clearness of focus. In the description of Miss Lonelyhearts' room, for example, the revision eliminates an item which does not figure in the story at all and which might mislead the reader and leave him unsatisfied if it were retained:

February, 1932

The walls were bare except for a mirror and an ivory Christ.

("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," p. 82)

April, 1933

The walls were bare except for an ivory Christ that hung opposite the foot of the bed. (p. 19)

July, 1932

. . . you make a speech it's in the bag from the start ere the echoes of the starting gun die away headlong for the tape we plunge in the red with too big a nut yet play up play the game although flies in the milk as well as the amber we know full well but seeing as it's better to lie down with a full dog than a dead lion even if the cards are cold marked for emphasis by the hand of fate and you are in a club that won't stand squawks where they deal only one hand and you must sit in so get a run for your money tank up grab what's on the buffet and use the girls in the upstairs rooms but when you throw box cars take it with a dead pan. ("Miss Lonelyhearts in the Dismal Swamp," p. 2)

April, 1933

. . . you get to your feet and call for silence in order to explain your philosophy of life. "Life," you say, "is a club where they won't stand for squawks, where they deal you only one hand and you must sit in. So even if the cards are cold and marked by the hand of fate, play up, play up like a gentleman and a sport. Get tanked, grab what's on the buffet, use the girls upstairs, but remember, when you throw box cars, take the curtain like a dead game sport, don't squawk." (p. 81)

May, 1932

Well, the mugs didn't know they were picturesque and thought she was regular until the bartender put them wise. They got her into the back room to teach her a new word and put the boots to her. They didn't let her out for three days. On the third day they sold tickets to niggers. But here's the pay off -- she finished the novel. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," p. 22)

April, 1933

Well, the mugs didn't know they were picturesque and thought she was regular until the barkeep put them wise. They got her into the back room to teach her a new word and put the boots to her. They didn't let her out for three days. On the last day they sold tickets to niggers. (p. 34)

     Most of the revisions which West made during the year before he completed his novel were of the kind usually associated with proofreading, but they are at least as significant as the changes in conception and structure, by virtue of their contribution to the novel's consciseness. He was clearly a careful and thoughtful proofreader, for nearly every change is indisputably an improvement, and some of the most trenchant parts of the novel are the results of these revisions. Economy was the sole object of some, and of course the impact of the whole novel is partly attributable to its laconic precision. The aim of revisions which simplified the syntax, for example, is

February, 1932

. . . like a spear it pierced him through. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," p. 80)

Matlock had given the readers of his column many stones. . . . ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," p. 81)

April, 1933

It pierced him like a spear. (p. 9)

He had given his readers many stones . . . (p. 10)

October, 1932

When he arrived at the obelisk, he sat down on a bench to wait for Mrs. Doyle. ("Miss Lonelyhearts on a Field Trip," p. 53)

April, 1933

He sat down on a bench near the obelisk to wait for Mrs. Doyle.⁴ (p. 64)

February, 1932

The decay covering its surface was not the decay in which life generates. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," p. 80)

Teach them to pray for their daily stone: Give us this day our daily stone. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," p. 81)

No matter how he struggled his prayer was Shrike's prayer and his voice was the voice of a conductor calling stations. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," p. 83)

April, 1933

The decay that covered the surface of the mottled ground was not the kind in which life generates. (p. 9)

Teach them to pray each morning: "Give us this day our daily stone." (p. 10)

But no matter how hard he struggled, his prayer was one Shrike had taught him and his voice was that of a conductor calling stations. (p. 21)

February, 1932

Because of its terrible struggles his next stroke went wrong . . . ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," p. 84)

April, 1933

He raised the knife again and this time the lamb's violent struggles made him miss altogether. (p. 23)

May, 1932

I felt as I had felt years before when I had accidentally stepped on a frog. Its spilled guts filled me with pity, but my pity turned to rage when its suffering became real to my senses, and I beat it frantically until it was dead. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," p. 26)

April, 1933

Miss Lonelyhearts felt as he had felt years before, when he had accidentally stepped on a small frog. Its spilled guts had filled him with pity, but when its suffering had become real to his senses, his pity had turned to rage and he had beaten it frantically until it was dead. (p. 41)

     In the earlier versions there were a few references too cryptic to be plainly understood. The revisions consisted of rewording or of providing additional information:

May, 1932

At college, and perhaps for a year afterwards, they had believed in literature, had believed in personal expression as a literary end. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," p. 22)

July, 1932

. . . you are no longer white but golden brown so passing tourists have need of an indignant finger . . . ("Miss Lonelyhearts in the Dismal Swamp," p. 2)

The First Church of Christ Dentist . . . ("Miss Lonelyhearts in the Dismal Swamp," p. 2)

April, 1933

At college, and perhaps for a year afterwards, they had believed in literature, had believed in Beauty and in personal expression as an absolute end. (p. 35)

April, 1933

Your body is golden brown like hers, and tourists have need of the indignant finger of the missionary to point you out. (p. 79)

. . . the First Church of Christ Dentist, where He is worshipped as Preventer of Decay. (p. 83)

     A great many of the revisions serve to make the finished work more active and vivid than the earlier drafts. Some of the changes were from passive to active voice:

May, 1932

. . . the glasses and bottles with their exploding highlights sounded like a battery of little bells when they were touched together by the bartender. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," p. 24)

October, 1932

. . . junk that had been made precious by memory . . . ("Miss Lonelyhearts on a Field Trip," p. 52)

April, 1933

The glasses and bottles, their high lights exploding, rang like a battery of little bells when the bartender touched them together. (p. 37)

April, 1933

. . . junk that memory had made precious . . . (p. 62)

May, 1932

Someone suggested raping them. That started a train of stories. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," p. 22)

They would go on in this way until they were too drunk to talk. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," (p. 22)

April, 1933

Then someone started a train of stories by suggesting that what they all needed was a good rape. (p. 33)

[They] would go on telling these stories until they were too drunk to talk. (p. 34)

May, 1932

After some pantomime suggesting colorful pageantry, he began again: "Brown Greek manuscripts and mistresses with great smooth marbly limbs." ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Dead Pan," p. 19)

Miss Farkis laughed and Shrike looked as though he were going to punch her.

("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Dead Pan," pp. 20-21)

April, 1933

"To the renaissance!" he kept shouting. "To the renaissance! To the brown Greek manuscripts and mistresses with the great smooth marbly limbs." (p. 12)

Miss Farkis laughed and Shrike raised his fist as though to strike her. (p. 15)

May, 1932

My sister and I were waiting for father to come home from the church. She was eight years old and I was twelve. I went to the piano and began to play a dance piece my Mozart. I had never voluntarily gone to the piano before. My sister began to dance. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," p. 24)

April, 1933

One winter evening, he had been waiting with his little sister for their father to come home from church. She was eight years old then, and he was twelve. Made sad by the pause between playing and eating, he had gone to the piano and had begun a piece by Mozart. It was the first time he had ever voluntarily gone to the piano. His sister left her picture book to dance to his music. (p. 37)

May, 1932

I consciously lost myself in an evening long past. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," p. 24)

I thought of children dancing. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," p. 24)

April, 1933

He forgot that his heart was a bomb to remember an incident of his childhood. (p. 37)

As Miss Lonelyhearts stood at the bar, swaying slightly to the remembered music, he thought of children dancing. (p. 37)

February, 1932

He had played with this thing, but he never allowed it to come entirely alive. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," p. 83)

April, 1933

He had played with this thing, but had never allowed it to come alive. (p. 20)

May, 1932

And on most days I received more than thirty letters, all of them alike, as though stamped from the dough of suffering with a heart-shaped cookie knife. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Dead Pan," p. 13)

April, 1933

And on most days he received more than thirty letters, all of them alike, stamped from the dough of suffering with a heart-shaped cookie knife. (p. 2)

May, 1932

"Aw, come off," Gates said. "We're scientists. He's Havelock Ellis and I'm Krafft-Ebing. When did you first discover homosexualist tendencies in yourself?"

"But I do like women, Mr. Ebing. When I was younger I . . ." ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," pp. 25-26)

April, 1933

"Aw, come off," Gates said. "We're scientists. He's Havelock Ellis and I'm Krafft-Ebing. When did you first discover homosexualistic tendencies in yourself?"

"What do you mean, sir? I . . ." (p. 40)

     Some of the revisions improved the finished work simply by being more appropriate to the characterization. For example, in the revision of the long letter from the poorly-educated Broad-Shoulders, "things" replaced

May, 1932

I would ask to be transferred to the sports department. ("Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," p. 24)

April, 1933

He would ask Shrike to be transferred to the sports department. (p. 38)

October, 1932

He drew back when she reached for a kiss. She caught his head and put her tongue into his mouth. At first it ticked like a watch, then the tick softened and thickened into a heart throb. It beat louder and more rapidly each second until he thought that it was going to explode, and pulled away with a rude jerk. ("Miss Lonelyhearts on a Field Trip," p. 54)

April, 1933

He drew back when she reached for a kiss. She caught his head and kissed him on his mouth. At first it ticked like a watch, then the tick softened and thickened into a heart throb. It beat louder and more rapidly each second, until he thought that it was going to explode and pulled away with a rude jerk. (p. 66)

     Comparison of the early and late versions of these five chapters shows, then, not only that Nathanael West had a perceptive sense of literary structure and unity, but that he was as well a painstaking and astute reader and reviser of his own work. By experimenting with several methods of narration until he found the most appropriate one, by relocating various parts of the chapter so that the movement in each would be unrestricted and easily perceptible, by eliminating irrelevant themes and unifying those he retained, and by minutely reworking each individual sentence to condense and enliven it for the greatest possible impact, he showed himself to be a mature and conscious craftsman who knew the direction of his work of art and strove to make all its parts point in that direction. ⁶

"Miss Lonelyhearts and the Lamb," Contact: An American Quarterly Review, I (February, 1932), 80-85. "Miss Lonelyhearts and the Dead Pan," Contact, I (May, 1932), 13-21. "Miss Lonelyhearts and the Clean Old Man," Contact, I (May, 1932), 22-27. "Miss Lonelyhearts in the Dismal Swamp," Contempo, II (July 5, 1932), 1-2. "Miss Lonelyhearts on a Field Trip," Contact, I (October, 1932), 50-57. These articles are listed in William White, "Nathanael West: A Bibliography," Studies in Bibliography, XI (1958), 207-224. For a discussion of West's connection with the short-lived little magazine Contact, see James F. Light, Nathanael West: An Interpretative Study (1961), pp. 70-71. Contempo was an almost equally short-lived iconoclastic newspaper published in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.

Page numbers not otherwise identified refer to the New Directions edition of Miss Lonelyhearts, n.d.

Prof. Light makes some perceptive comments on the importance of this change, in Nathanael West, p. 83. There is a slight suggestion that the use of the interior monologue may have been the choice of the Contempo editors rather than the author. Much of the revision that West ostensibly made later consists only of inserting punctuation, and so, likewise, the interior monologue technique could have been brought about in the first place merely by omitting the original punctuation. Furthermore, there is one "my" in the monologue that seems to refer to an entirely separate person rather than to a part of Miss Lonelyhearts' mind. Still further evidence appears on another page in this same issue of Contempo: a letter from an irate contributor claims that his earlier contribution had been greatly changed without permission, and the editors, in a brief reply, rather crassly and fatuously defend their action. In any case, whether West's doing or not, the experiment was an unwise one.

The result of this revision is one example of the "static, pictorial quality" which Prof. Light shows is an integral part of the novel. See Nathanael West, pp. 95-96.

This change is in the Contempo chapter, and again there is room for suspicion that the editors there may have changed it originally. Twenty seems far too young in either the early or the revised version.

I am deeply indebted to Prof. James B. Colvert of the University of Virginia, who made dozens of valuable suggestions while this study was in progress.