3 Diary, October 7, 1910, see p. 462 of this volume.
4 Prison Memoirs of an Anarchist, see p. 441 of this volume.
5 Diary, November 4, 1910, see p. 479 of this volume.
6 Ibid.
7 Emma Goldman to Pierre Ramus, August 15, 1912, Pierre Ramus Papers, IISH, Amsterdam.
8 Jack London, “Preface to Prison Memoirs” (unpublished) (Amsterdam: Alexander Berkman Papers, IISH).
9 See for example Voltairine de Cleyre to Alexander Berkman, March 8, 1912 (Alexander Berkman Papers, IISH).
10 Diary, October 7, 1910, see p. 462 of this volume.
11 Emma Goldman, Living My Life (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1931), 412.
12 Ezra Heywood, The Word, January 1893.
13 Emma Goldman, Liberty (London), October 1896.
14 Letter from William T. Holmes to Emma and Alex, “My dear comrades,” November 8, 1912 (Emma Goldman Papers, IISH).
15 Paul Avrich and Karen Avrich, Sasha and Emma: The Anarchist Odyssey of Alexander Berkman and Emma Goldman (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2012), 212.
16 Prison Memoirs of an Anarchist, see p. 28 of this volume.
17 Prison Memoirs of an Anarchist, see p. 219 of this volume.
18 Prison Memoirs of an Anarchist, see p. 222 of this volume.
19 Alexander Berkman to Emma Goldman, March 13, 1905 (Alexander Berkman Archive, IISH).
20 Certainly you can see this within the pages of Berkman’s diary during this period that records both conversations with himself as he works out how and for whom anarchist propaganda should be directed, and the subsequent arguments and tensions between himself and Goldman on the matter.
21 See for example Alexander Berkman, Now and After: The ABC of Communist Anarchism (New York: Vanguard Press, 1929).
Editorial Note
Prison Memoirs of an Anarchist
The text of Prison Memoirs of an Anarchist has been reproduced as it appeared in the original 1912 Mother Earth Publishing Association edition. Alexander Berkman taught himself English while in prison and all grammatical and stylistics choices in his writing represent his understanding of the English language at the time of writing and have been preserved. Where there is text in German or Russian, we have provided translations in the footnotes.
The Diary
Berkman’s diary was written while he was composing Prison Memoirs. The editors have transcribed this diary, which is held in the Berkman Papers at International Institute for Social History (IISH). We have faithfully reproduced the diary, including the author’s grammatical and stylistic idiosyncrasies, for example using the “&” symbol rather than spelling out “and.” We have however, silently corrected misspellings and minor punctuation. Conjectured words have been rendered in italics, set in square brackets, and followed by a question mark, for example [solidarity?]. Similarly, we have noted any illegible words or phrases with [illegible]. For words or phrases written in languages other than English, we have transcribed them within the text of the diary and provided translations in a note. Our transcription policy has been informed by readability and ease for the reader.
Annotation
The original Prison Memoirs of an Anarchist included a number of footnotes by the author, these have been preserved and are differentiated from the editorial footnotes by the words “Author’s note.”
The annotations by the editors have been guided by principles of clarity and brevity. We have attempted to identify people, organizations, and events that may help the contemporary reader understand the text. Special effort has been made to identify the individuals, groups, and ideas that constituted the radical world that Berkman inhabited, as this information may be less accessible to the reader. Annotations have been provided at the first substantive mention of a person, event, or topic. Annotations have also attempted to alert or refer the reader to themes and ideas that run through Prison Memoirs and indeed, the greater body of Alexander Berkman’s work. This has been done as consistently and thoroughly as possible, but the reader should be aware that new primary sources are continually uncovered, and new research continually generated; we hope that our work will add to this body in some small way.
Chapter I: The Call of Homestead
I
Clearly every detail of that day is engraved on my mind. It is the sixth of July, 1892. We are quietly sitting in the back of our little flat—Fedya and I—when suddenly the Girl enters.1 Her naturally quick, energetic step sounds more than usually resolute. As I turn to her, I am struck by the peculiar gleam in her eyes and the heightened color.
“Have you read it?” she cries, waving the half-open newspaper.
“What is it?”
“Homestead. Strikers shot. Pinkertons have killed women and children.”
She speaks in a quick, jerky manner. Her words ring like the cry of a wounded animal, the melodious voice tinged with the harshness of bitterness—the bitterness of helpless agony.
I take the paper from her hands. In growing excitement I read the vivid account of the tremendous struggle, the Homestead strike, or, more correctly, the lockout. The report details the conspiracy on the part of the Carnegie Company to crush the Amalgamated Association of Iron and Steel Workers; the selection, for the purpose, of Henry Clay Frick, whose attitude toward labor is implacably hostile; his secret military preparations while designedly prolonging the peace negotiations with the Amalgamated; the fortification of the Homestead steel-works; the erection of a high board fence, capped by barbed wire and provided with loopholes for sharpshooters; the hiring of an army of Pinkerton thugs; the attempt to smuggle them, in the dead of night, into Homestead; and, finally, the terrible carnage. 2
I pass the paper to Fedya. The Girl glances at me. We sit in silence, each busy with his own thoughts. Only now and then we exchange a word, a searching, significant look.
II
It is hot and stuffy in the train. The air is oppressive with tobacco smoke; the boisterous talk of the men playing cards near by annoys me. I turn to the window. The gust of perfumed air, laden with the rich aroma of fresh-mown hay, is soothingly invigorating. Green woods and yellow fields circle in the distance, whirl nearer, close, then rush by, giving place to other circling fields and woods. The country