The Writing Spaces: A Tale of Twain’s Two Spaces
This week Robert Smedley reveals the incredible life, and amazing Writing Spaces, of ‘the father of American Literature’.
By any standard, Mark Twain (aka Samuel Langhorne Clemens) had a heck of a life. He was friends with Nikolai Tesla, appeared on film with Thomas Edison, was born and died under Halley’s Comet, travelled the length and breadth of the US, invented a few things, wrote at least four American classics, and, if you believe your TV, met the crew of the Starship Enterprise.

So did such a remarkable man have a fairly remarkable writing space? Actually no. He had two.
Writing Space #1
Mark Twain’s true writing space was his house in Hartford, Connecticut. He moved there partly because he wanted to be closer to his publisher, and partly because he loved the beauty of that part of the country. His home was a 19-roomed Victorian Gothic pile of some novelty, mostly because it featured all the cutting edge mod-cons for the 1870s: mainlined gaslight, hot and cold running water, flushing toilets (in all seven(!) bathrooms), a shower, ducted central heating, a telephone, plus electric burglar alarms and servant bells. I can’t stress how cutting-edge most of that stuff was for a house at that time. Just over a decade after shed-dweller David Henry Thoreau had been espousing the purity of a simple life in Walden, Twain was living in the opulence of modernity.

Such an enormous and futuristic abode not only reflected the comparative luxury that Twain had to write in, but also his ceaseless interest in scientific advancement and its bounties. A close friend of Nikolai Tesla, Twain spent much time in his lab and even came up with three patented inventions, including a new form of suspenders and a self-adhesive scrapbook. Naturally Twain’s love of scientific discovery bled into his writing work. He was the first author to write an entire novel on an ultra-modern device called the typewriter (ten points for the first person to guess correctly which novel), even though he wasn’t all that keen on the device. He wrote a short story called Sold to Satan, which was all about the perils of the periodic table, and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, which features ‘time-traveller’ Hank introducing modern technology to Arthurian England. Twain may be famous for his riverboat stories, but he was much more aware of his time than many give credit for, and his home reflects this as well as his writing.

His writing space was his private domain, the top floor of the 3-storey house, and was the gentleman’s equivalent of a treehouse with a ‘no girls allowed’ sign stuck on it. It was a manly retreat reserved for writing, playing billiards and entertaining male guests with whisky and cigars. No one else, bar the cleaning staff, were permitted entry. Not the first writing space we’ve come across that was a Fortress of Solitude then, although this one is more like a gentlemen’s club crossed with a writer’s den. Here in the atmosphere of peace and cigar-smoke Twain would write late into the night and have a good swear. He liked a cuss word did old Twain.
There ought to be a room in this house to swear in. It’s dangerous to have to repress an emotion like that.
It was atop his marvellous mansion, and in between the odd profanity, that he produced his most famous works: including The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn, Life on the Mississippi, and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. And when he was not writing he was often in the company of authors who lived close by, such as Harriet Stowe of Uncle Tom’s Cabin fame. As I mentioned regarding Rudyard Kipling, it’s always good for authors to get together. Conversation and exchange of ideas are fuel for the creative fire.
It’s also worth mentioning that Twain’s house had a magnificent library which shared the luxury of the other rooms decorated by Tiffany & Co. (yep, that Tiffany & Co.). I think every writer should have a good stock of books and a comfy place to write them. It doesn’t have to be lavishly festooned with pricey items as Twain’s was, it just needs to be a place of comfort; a place where it’s easier for ideas to thrive.
Writing Space #2
As if this glorious house wasn’t enough of a writing space, Mark Twain had a spot further down the country at his sister Elmira’s home in New York. He would summer with her but required a quiet spot to work, so, as you do, he built a large octagonal gazebo on her land, describing the Victorian structure as “the loveliest study you ever saw”. He wasn’t wrong. It was furnished with a sofa, several chairs, a table, and a fireplace, and because it was perched on a small hill had a commanding 360 degree view of the countryside below. “Imagine the luxury of it,” Twain remarked as he described what it was like writing there in a thunderous rainstorm. Its distance from the house gave him the peace and quiet he craved and means he’s part of that pantheon of authors who worked in huts, like Louis de Bernières, Roald Dahl and George Bernard Shaw. You’ve got to admit, there’s something about a hut that speaks to a writer’s temperament.

Twain’s New York gazebo (or ‘NeYoBo’ as I like to call it) is like a little piece of his Connecticut home transported to another place. Like the Victorian gothic house it sticks out among the natural surroundings. It’s intriguing in its design and, compared to even some modern writing huts, rather grand in its furnishing. Twain himself admits to its luxury. But that’s nothing to be ashamed of. We write best where we feel most comfortable, and he was lucky enough to forge his own grand spaces. His Connecticut home not only allowed him to raise a family in “grace and in the peace of its benediction”, but also to accomplish some pretty great works. And whatever time you live in and whatever else you do, that’s all anyone could want from any space.
Hope you have enjoyed this week’s Writing Spaces, please share your thoughts in the comments below.
Images courtesy of Art of Manliness, Torrington.org, TheLobby.com and Berkeley Library.
Rob Smedley: Writer and Freelance Illustrator. Runs the ‘Too Close For Comfort‘ cartoon blog, and when not being creative with ink or making jokes about everything, Rob can be found at any bar that serves a good martini.


Nicely done. I’m a big fan of seeing author’s writing spaces (although my own writing space leaves much to be desired). Photographer and All-Round Nice Guy, Kyle Cassidy did a series of photographs of Science Fiction authors in their writing spaces that can be found at: http://www.whereiwrite.org/
When I lived in Connecticut I used to pass by Twain’s house on a regular basis. It was a red, Victorian oasis on a street of ’50s and ’60s-style brick buildings and businesses. I appreciated the way it seemed to defiantly hold it’s own against the encroaching urbanization.
– Tom
Thanks, Tom, for providing the link to look at the photography of different writers spaces. I think it is so funny that the majority (all the women) have stacks and stacks of stuff; books, papers, junk. That’s me. Where ever I write, you can count on all my junk dominating the space. My poor grandsons never have a place to eat at, because my junk is all over the dining table. I wish I had a study where I could allow all my junk to be stacked all the time; rather than being some place where I have to clean it up if we’re going to have a big family meal (my family does that a lot). My space consists of a small, rolling, reading table (about the size of a TV tray). On this I have my computer and calendar, with my printer on the bottom. Because there is no room on my little table, I spread out my notebooks, books, papers, and anything else I feel I NEED to pursue my writing. Oh to have a space like good ol Sam.
Thanks Tom – great link! :)
Fantastic post Robert! I’ve always been fascinated not only by Twain himself but also his home, and most especially his nonfiction (as opposed to his fiction). One of my favorites is A Telephonic Conversation http://www.readbookonline.net/readOnLine/643/. There’s another one I love as well but for the life of me I can’t recall the title – it’s about a night he spent sharing a room with the man he was traveling with, and what a terrible time he had trying to sneak around the room to find his shoes so he could go out; the story is absolutely hilarious and I’d be much obliged if someone can recall the title.
Oh, to have my own writing studio, separate from our house! I do have an office, but have to divide the space between the workings of my day job and my personal writing space, so it isn’t nearly as efficient as I’d like because it leaves me so little space for writing. Twain’s hut at his sister’s house sounds perfect! I knew about his home in CT but not about this one. How envious I am!
Thanks for a great post Robert!
Thank you Deanna – glad you enjoyed it! Is that story involving the shoes from ‘Innocents Abroad’? It’s one of his ones I’m less familiar with, but he does travel with and meet a lot of people in that. I’m also very keen to know now! :)
It may be – I’m ashamed to say I don’t know for sure. I read it in a collection [of various of his stories] I borrowed from the library. Yes, it’s going to drive me crazy too until I, or someone, recalls the name of it. :)
Nothing more fascinating than vignettes of Mark Twain. When I visited his home in Hartford, the docent told stories with each room. In his very private writing space on the third floor, the docent said Twain, who was insomniac, often spent the night playing billiards with his butler Claude Joseph Beuchotte. Allegedly, Beuchotte also stood behind Twain during dinner parties and jesticulated as Twain held forth, much to the amusement of the guests (Twain, apparently, was aware of his butler’s antics.) In addition to tales concerning Beuchotte and the fact that Twain slept at the foot of his bed because he’d paid an enormous price for the headboard and was not about to NOT look at it, apparently his relationship with Harriet Stowe was vexing at times. The docent said, for one thing, she walked through his flower bed, which made him furious, and when he was gone, she would come into his house and play the piano. He’d catch her at it and would blow his top. Finally, the docent said Twain was not enamored of the telephone, and once in a rage at the ineptness of an operator, yanked it from the wall and threw it out the window. Now all these stories could very well be apocryphal, but they suit Twain’s celebrated temperament, and I found them absolutely delightful.
Apocrypha or not those are such great stories! Twain was such a character that I can certainly believe them to be true. Thanks for sharing them Frederick. :)
I’d never seen photos of Twain’s house in Connecticut. Loved the comparison between his modern palace and Thoreau’s Walden.
Twain’s “NYBO” gazebo was moved to the campus of Elmira College. I visited it once and it’s very cozy. Painted the same color of the Connecticut mansion. Not a place I’d want to be on top of a hill in a thunderstorm, though.
Thanks for the good read.
I was born in Elmira, New York…this Gazebo sits on a hill on Elmira College’s Campus… The gazebo is closed most of the time…but when it is open you can walk around inside the Gazebo and see Mark Twain’s artifacts there.