Carson McCullers (1917–1967)
Author of The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter
About the Author
Carson McCullers was born in Columbus, Georgia, on February 19, 1917. She died at age fifty in Nyack, New York, on September 29, 1967. A promising pianist, she had hoped to enroll at the Juilliard School of Music when she was seventeen, but when she arrived in New York, she attended writing classes show more at Columbia University instead. In December 1936 her first story, "Wunderkind," was published in "Story" magazine. That winter she began work on "The Mute," which would become her enduring masterpiece, "The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter." (Publisher Provided) Carson McCullers was born Lula Carson Smith on February 19, 1917 in Columbus, Georgia. At the age of seventeen, desiring to become a famous concert pianist, she went to New York City to attend the Julliard School of Music. Her family sacrificed and raised money for her tuition to go to Julliard, but she lost all of her money when she left her pocketbook on the subway. Unable to tell her family what had happened, she took writing classes at Columbia University and New York University from 1935-1936. Her first novel, The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter, was published in 1940. Her other novels included Reflections in a Golden Eye, The Ballad of the Sad Café, The Member of the Wedding, and Clock Without Hands. With the help of Tennessee Williams, The Member of the Wedding was adapted into a play, which won the New York Drama Critics Circle Award in 1950. She died from a stroke and subsequent brain hemorrhage on September 29, 1967at the age of 50. (Bowker Author Biography) show less
Image credit: Carson McCullers
Works by Carson McCullers
Complete Novels: The Heart is a Lonely Hunter / Reflections in a Golden Eye / The Ballad of the Sad Cafe / The Member of the Wedding / The Clock Without Hands (2001) 630 copies, 5 reviews
Three Novels: The Ballad of the Sad Cafe and Others Stories, The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter, and The Member of The Wedding (1991) 113 copies, 1 review
Illumination and Night Glare: The Unfinished Autobiography of Carson McCullers (1999) 107 copies, 5 reviews
Reflections in a Golden Eye / The Ballad of the Sad Café / The Member of the Wedding (1974) 59 copies, 2 reviews
The Ballad of The Sad Café / The Heart is a Lonely Hunter / Reflections in a Golden Eye / The Member of the Wedding / New Short Stories (2018) — Author — 11 copies
Alle verhalen Carson McCullers ; vertaald door en met een nawoord van Molly van Gelder (2021) 10 copies
The Ballad of the Sad Cafe: Wunderkind; The Jockey; Madame Zilensky and the King of Finland; The Sojourner; A Domestic Dilemma; A Tree, A Rock, A Cloud (Penguin Modern Classics)… (2000) 3 copies, 1 review
Complete Works of Carson McCullers 2 copies
McCullers Carson 2 copies
The Haunted Boy [short story] 2 copies
Untitled Piece [short story] 1 copy
Correspondence [short story] 1 copy
Kello käy tyhjää : romaani 1 copy
Alle verhalen 1 copy
Op jouw bruiloft 1 copy
Gespiegeld in een gouden oog 1 copy
The Aliens [short story] 1 copy
The Ballad of the Sad Cafe: Martin Beck Theatre (October 30, 1963-February 15, 1964) Playbill 1 copy
The Orphanage [short story] 1 copy
Like That [short story] 1 copy
Books I remember 1 copy
The pestle 1 copy
Poldi [short story] 1 copy
Stone is not stone : a poem 1 copy
To bear the truth alone 1 copy
The Heart is a Lonely Hunter / The Member of the Wedding / Reflections in a Golden Eye (2010) — Author — 1 copy
Associated Works
Perrine's Literature: Structure, Sound, and Sense (1970) — Contributor, some editions — 891 copies, 4 reviews
The World of the Short Story: A 20th Century Collection (1986) — Contributor — 510 copies, 4 reviews
Chloe Plus Olivia: An Anthology of Lesbian Literature from the 17th Century to the Present (1994) — Contributor — 482 copies, 1 review
First Fiction: An Anthology of the First Published Stories by Famous Writers (1994) — Contributor — 194 copies, 1 review
Growing Up in the South: An Anthology of Modern Southern Literature (1991) — Contributor — 163 copies, 1 review
The Ballad of the Sad Cafe: Carson McCullers' Novella Adapted for the Stage (1963) — Original book — 106 copies, 2 reviews
Queer: A Collection of LGBTQ Writing from Ancient Times to Yesterday (2021) — Contributor, some editions — 64 copies
Jo's Girls: Tomboy Tales of High Adventure, True Grit, and Real Life (1997) — Contributor — 48 copies
Critics' Choice: New York Drama Critics' Circle Prize Plays, 1935-1955 (1980) — Contributor — 26 copies
Fifty Years of the American Short Story from the O. Henry Awards 1919-1970 (1970) — Contributor — 17 copies, 1 review
Georgia Stories: Major Georgia Short Fiction of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries (1992) — Contributor — 12 copies, 1 review
Het neusje van de zalm een feestelijke bloemlezing uit Querido's 'vlaggetjesreeks' (1986) — Contributor — 7 copies
Fifty Years of the American Short Story from the O. Henry Awards 1919-1970, Volume 1 (1970) — Contributor — 3 copies
The Human Commitment - An Anthology of Contemporary Short Fiction — Contributor — 1 copy
The Ethnic Image in Modern American Literature, 1900-1950, Volumes 1-2 (1984) — Contributor — 1 copy
The Haunted Boy, Sphinx, Lead Her Like a Pigeon, Red Wind, The Eighty-Yard Run (Selections from Reader's Digst Condensed (1980) 1 copy
50 Best Plays of the American Theatre, Volume 3 — Contributor — 1 copy
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Legal name
- Smith, Lula Carson (born)
- Birthdate
- 1917-02-19
- Date of death
- 1967-09-29
- Gender
- female
- Education
- Columbia University
Washington Square College - Occupations
- novelist
short story writer
playwright - Organizations
- American Academy of Arts and Letters (1952)
February House
Yaddo
Bread Loaf Writers' Conference - Awards and honors
- Georgia Women of Achievement (1994)
American Academy of Arts and Letters Academy Award (Literature ∙ 1943)
Georgia Writers Hall of Fame - Relationships
- McCullers, Reeves (husband)
Smith, Margarita G. (sister) - Short biography
- Carson McCullers reinvented herself after leaving home at age 17 to study at the Juilliard School of Music in Manhattan. Something happened to make her lose the money and she never attended the school. Instead, she worked and took night classes at university. Her published writing began to appear in 1936. She suffered throughout her life from serious illness, including rheumatic fever and several strokes. By the age of 31, her left side was completely paralyzed. Her work, usually set in the South of her birth, often focused on people seen as misfits and outcasts.
- Cause of death
- brain hemorrhage
- Nationality
- USA
- Birthplace
- Columbus, Georgia, USA
- Places of residence
- New York, New York, USA
- Place of death
- Nyack, New York, USA
- Burial location
- Oak Hill Cemetery, Nyack, Rockland County, New York, USA
- Associated Place (for map)
- New York, USA
Members
Discussions
GROUP READ: [The Heart is a Lonely Hunter] in 2013 Category Challenge (September 2013)
The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter in The Clocks Have All Stopped (April 2012)
Reviews
The young Carson McCullers could write, and draw characters, but an idea that would be spirited and worthwhile as a literary short story or novella becomes excruciating when drawn out to novel length. The well-named The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (the title comes from a turn-of-the-century Scottish poem) is a long, plotless display of earnest literary noodling; a collection of benign, banal and bracing interactions between a handful of characters in a town in the American South in the show more 1930s.
The book swirls the interactions of four characters (only one of whom, the young girl Mick Kelly, is memorable) around a fifth: a pleasant, placid deaf-mute named John Singer. Each of the four are strangely drawn to this man for reasons they don't know, only that he has some quality; he is "thoughtful and composed", with "gentle eyes" (pg. 87). He understands them intuitively, they think, but part of the author's aim here seems to be that they are projecting; they each describe "the mute as he [or she] wished him to be" (pg. 197) and fail to realise that this man is reluctant to communicate in kind. He doesn't unburden himself on them as they do on him, and while they are each wrapped up in their own dramas – the novel's title leading us to believe they are the directionless and lonely hunters – it eventually becomes apparent that John Singer is the loneliest and the most burdened. "She likes music," Singer writes of Mick Kelly in a letter to the one (unreciprocated) friendship he tries to cultivate. "I wish I knew what it is she hears. She knows I am deaf but she thinks I know about music." (pg. 190)
Now, McCullers' book is one of those where this sort of literary architecture only becomes clear after you have finished it, and perhaps studied it. It is a noble theme, and McCullers is sometimes a bit too aware of the nobility, overegging the portentousness of her prose (particularly the internal monologues of the characters) and the earnest sentimentality of the interactions. The totemic role of John Singer is an unsteady device; some have compared him to Christ, the gentle man who redeemed others by taking on their burden, but the device isn't seamless enough to overcome the reader's doubts about it. In uncharitable moments, I wondered whether Singer could be considered a rare white incarnation of the 'magic Negro' trope. A lot of goodwill is lost throughout the novel by the fact it doesn't seem to be going anywhere; even more is lost when the book descends into a tedious preachiness about race and socialism.
Some reviewers have compared the book to Steinbeck (perhaps in part because of the overt socialism), but this comparison doesn't sit well with me. Their writing styles are similar (though McCullers has none of the humour that Steinbeck deployed in, for example, Cannery Row), but in truth Steinbeck never used his characters as pawns in the way McCullers does (at least not as clumsily: the characters in East of Eden could be considered pieces placed on a chessboard). A more suitable comparison might be Faulkner, because of the Southern meandering, but I've not read enough of Faulkner to be able to state this with any conviction.
Perhaps the best way to conceptualise my disappointment in The Heart is a Lonely Hunter is to place it in a trifecta with Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird and Betty Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Three female writers drawing characters from 1930s America and delivering a sense of humanity with warmth and homespun prose. But the Lee-Smith-McCullers triangle is isosceles rather than equilateral, and McCullers' novel is by far the least of the three. The other two are just a class above in delivering character, theme and, most importantly, depth. Too much of McCullers' book feels unearned – Singer's enigmatic qualities, his fondness for Antonapoulos, the other four characters' fondness for him – whereas the other two books can resist any sort of critical harrying. The comparison shows that, competent as it is, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter's play for literary greatness fell rather short. show less
The book swirls the interactions of four characters (only one of whom, the young girl Mick Kelly, is memorable) around a fifth: a pleasant, placid deaf-mute named John Singer. Each of the four are strangely drawn to this man for reasons they don't know, only that he has some quality; he is "thoughtful and composed", with "gentle eyes" (pg. 87). He understands them intuitively, they think, but part of the author's aim here seems to be that they are projecting; they each describe "the mute as he [or she] wished him to be" (pg. 197) and fail to realise that this man is reluctant to communicate in kind. He doesn't unburden himself on them as they do on him, and while they are each wrapped up in their own dramas – the novel's title leading us to believe they are the directionless and lonely hunters – it eventually becomes apparent that John Singer is the loneliest and the most burdened. "She likes music," Singer writes of Mick Kelly in a letter to the one (unreciprocated) friendship he tries to cultivate. "I wish I knew what it is she hears. She knows I am deaf but she thinks I know about music." (pg. 190)
Now, McCullers' book is one of those where this sort of literary architecture only becomes clear after you have finished it, and perhaps studied it. It is a noble theme, and McCullers is sometimes a bit too aware of the nobility, overegging the portentousness of her prose (particularly the internal monologues of the characters) and the earnest sentimentality of the interactions. The totemic role of John Singer is an unsteady device; some have compared him to Christ, the gentle man who redeemed others by taking on their burden, but the device isn't seamless enough to overcome the reader's doubts about it. In uncharitable moments, I wondered whether Singer could be considered a rare white incarnation of the 'magic Negro' trope. A lot of goodwill is lost throughout the novel by the fact it doesn't seem to be going anywhere; even more is lost when the book descends into a tedious preachiness about race and socialism.
Some reviewers have compared the book to Steinbeck (perhaps in part because of the overt socialism), but this comparison doesn't sit well with me. Their writing styles are similar (though McCullers has none of the humour that Steinbeck deployed in, for example, Cannery Row), but in truth Steinbeck never used his characters as pawns in the way McCullers does (at least not as clumsily: the characters in East of Eden could be considered pieces placed on a chessboard). A more suitable comparison might be Faulkner, because of the Southern meandering, but I've not read enough of Faulkner to be able to state this with any conviction.
Perhaps the best way to conceptualise my disappointment in The Heart is a Lonely Hunter is to place it in a trifecta with Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird and Betty Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Three female writers drawing characters from 1930s America and delivering a sense of humanity with warmth and homespun prose. But the Lee-Smith-McCullers triangle is isosceles rather than equilateral, and McCullers' novel is by far the least of the three. The other two are just a class above in delivering character, theme and, most importantly, depth. Too much of McCullers' book feels unearned – Singer's enigmatic qualities, his fondness for Antonapoulos, the other four characters' fondness for him – whereas the other two books can resist any sort of critical harrying. The comparison shows that, competent as it is, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter's play for literary greatness fell rather short. show less
This could easily have been published as a collection of short stories, all taking place in the same small town and with a few overlapping characters or scenes. But I love it in this form—it’s richer, and more interesting. These characters do more than just occasionally bump into each other; they continually touch each others’ lives, often without even realizing it themselves. The metaphor of a tapestry, while overused, certainly fits.
It’s a unique structure—revolving somewhat show more around the twin stars of Singer & Mick, but truly an ensemble piece. For such a long list of characters—Singer, Mick, Blount, Dr. Copeland, Biff, even smaller characters like Portia, Harry Minowitz, or Bubber—not only are they filled out as characters, but their relationships to other characters are fully drawn and textured as well. Overall, despite many inner monologues and narrative explorations of private lives, for me it is those relationships that drive this book. For a novel that is so often described with terms like “loneliness” and “isolation,” each of these characters is powerfully drawn to others. The really remarkable thing that McCullers explores, though, is how all those connections fail to produce a true community. Clearly the author intends us to take this unnamed town as a kind of Everytown (“Say, what kind of a place is this town?” “Ordinary.”), it didn’t ever really resonate that way with me. It feels like a constructed world, but rich in detail and compelling to watch.
McCullers’ prose is a pleasure to read. It’s not flashy, but has a worn-in feeling. It reminds me of a well-seasoned baseball mitt. There is no stiffness or restriction; I get the clear sense that this is the result of patient work and rework, until it’s comfortable and easy. The result is an immersive quality that I really enjoyed. show less
It’s a unique structure—revolving somewhat show more around the twin stars of Singer & Mick, but truly an ensemble piece. For such a long list of characters—Singer, Mick, Blount, Dr. Copeland, Biff, even smaller characters like Portia, Harry Minowitz, or Bubber—not only are they filled out as characters, but their relationships to other characters are fully drawn and textured as well. Overall, despite many inner monologues and narrative explorations of private lives, for me it is those relationships that drive this book. For a novel that is so often described with terms like “loneliness” and “isolation,” each of these characters is powerfully drawn to others. The really remarkable thing that McCullers explores, though, is how all those connections fail to produce a true community. Clearly the author intends us to take this unnamed town as a kind of Everytown (“Say, what kind of a place is this town?” “Ordinary.”), it didn’t ever really resonate that way with me. It feels like a constructed world, but rich in detail and compelling to watch.
McCullers’ prose is a pleasure to read. It’s not flashy, but has a worn-in feeling. It reminds me of a well-seasoned baseball mitt. There is no stiffness or restriction; I get the clear sense that this is the result of patient work and rework, until it’s comfortable and easy. The result is an immersive quality that I really enjoyed. show less
Published in 1961, this story is set in a small town in southern USA. The overt story concerns race, justice and to some extent mortality, though there are plenty of other threads. However, it's the examination of the protagonists' views on race that are most interesting and, to some extent troubling, especially to the modern reader as the N word and variants are used quite often, albeit as a noun/statement, rather than necessarily as an insult.
It plays with one's sympathies very show more effectively. For instance, the old judge is a very traditional white southern patriarch. He is keen to retain segregation, yet strives to be generous to the black people who work for him. Is he bad, a product of his time, or both?
As with all her writing, this is distinctively McCullers, with a lovely, lyrical feel (she was a trained musician).
I expect there are some that would like such a book to be buried and forgotten, but I think the fact that it would be hard to write it now is all the more reason to keep and read it. McCullers' is clearly on the side of equality for the African-American community, but she makes it plain that it is not a straightforward issue of right and wrong or good and bad - and that message is at least as relevant now as it was when segregation was the norm. show less
It plays with one's sympathies very show more effectively. For instance, the old judge is a very traditional white southern patriarch. He is keen to retain segregation, yet strives to be generous to the black people who work for him. Is he bad, a product of his time, or both?
As with all her writing, this is distinctively McCullers, with a lovely, lyrical feel (she was a trained musician).
I expect there are some that would like such a book to be buried and forgotten, but I think the fact that it would be hard to write it now is all the more reason to keep and read it. McCullers' is clearly on the side of equality for the African-American community, but she makes it plain that it is not a straightforward issue of right and wrong or good and bad - and that message is at least as relevant now as it was when segregation was the norm. show less
Complete Novels: The Heart is a Lonely Hunter/Reflections in a Golden Eye/The Ballad of the Sad Cafe/The Member of the Wedding/The Clock Without Hands (Library of America) by Carson McCullers
The Heart is a Lonely Hunter:
This is a novel full of lonely people, missed chances, broken dreams and bitter ends. Yet the author keeps us all at arm's length from her characters, who are very well drawn, but who do not draw us into their lives. This detachment is essential, because otherwise the sadness would be awfully hard to take. I believe we are meant to engage our minds, as the characters themselves do so extensively, to assess what's happening in their lives, without getting show more emotionally involved. This means, of course, as so many readers have pointed out, that it is difficult to "like" or "care about" any of the characters. As each of the main characters is isolated from society, we find ourselves isolated from them. John Singer is deaf, and communicates minimally with those around him. Mick Kelly is an adolescent who closely guards her inner life, and engages only as necessary with the outside world. Biff Brannon is utterly conflicted and confused, unable to connect with his wife, or himself. Jake Blount is lost, unstable, frequently drunk, convinced that Marxism is "the answer", but unable to apply that conviction even to bring about a coherent dialog with another like-minded individual. Even Dr. Copeland, who devotes his life to selflessly providing medical care for his people, fails to love and connect with his own children. Something about this reading experience reminds me of the way I felt when reading Russian novels for the first time in my teenage years--fascinated in a Spock-like, almost clinical way by the lives I did not recognize or sympathize with. Now, my human half wants to chide them out of their existential funk by urging them to look around at the beauty that's out there...to love something regardless of whether you get loved in return...to make life happen instead of waiting for it to happen to you. So, no...I did not have a lot of sympathy for McCullers' characters, although I will admit to a hope that Mick Kelly persists in her dreams, clings to her music, and never lets herself lose access to that "inner room". I was entranced with the wonderful writing, the fugue-like structure of the novel, and the not-quite fulfilled promise of genius.
Review written January 2015 show less
This is a novel full of lonely people, missed chances, broken dreams and bitter ends. Yet the author keeps us all at arm's length from her characters, who are very well drawn, but who do not draw us into their lives. This detachment is essential, because otherwise the sadness would be awfully hard to take. I believe we are meant to engage our minds, as the characters themselves do so extensively, to assess what's happening in their lives, without getting show more emotionally involved. This means, of course, as so many readers have pointed out, that it is difficult to "like" or "care about" any of the characters. As each of the main characters is isolated from society, we find ourselves isolated from them. John Singer is deaf, and communicates minimally with those around him. Mick Kelly is an adolescent who closely guards her inner life, and engages only as necessary with the outside world. Biff Brannon is utterly conflicted and confused, unable to connect with his wife, or himself. Jake Blount is lost, unstable, frequently drunk, convinced that Marxism is "the answer", but unable to apply that conviction even to bring about a coherent dialog with another like-minded individual. Even Dr. Copeland, who devotes his life to selflessly providing medical care for his people, fails to love and connect with his own children. Something about this reading experience reminds me of the way I felt when reading Russian novels for the first time in my teenage years--fascinated in a Spock-like, almost clinical way by the lives I did not recognize or sympathize with. Now, my human half wants to chide them out of their existential funk by urging them to look around at the beauty that's out there...to love something regardless of whether you get loved in return...to make life happen instead of waiting for it to happen to you. So, no...I did not have a lot of sympathy for McCullers' characters, although I will admit to a hope that Mick Kelly persists in her dreams, clings to her music, and never lets herself lose access to that "inner room". I was entranced with the wonderful writing, the fugue-like structure of the novel, and the not-quite fulfilled promise of genius.
Review written January 2015 show less
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Statistics
- Works
- 91
- Also by
- 65
- Members
- 22,568
- Popularity
- #940
- Rating
- 3.9
- Reviews
- 507
- ISBNs
- 484
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