
Some choral singers on the grounds of Wells College
I had mercifully forgotten about a dark time in my life last year, in which I would tear open every new Harper’s and skip ahead to J. Robert Lennon’s Happyland, a serialized novel that satirized American Girl-founder Pleasant Rowland’s infiltration of an upstate New York town. While I loved Lennon’s Mailman beyond reason, I did not find Happyland nearly as pleasing. Rather, I felt enslaved to it, much like I imagine the Victorians felt enslaved to A Tale of Two Cities. Unlike the leagues of industrious Americans who lined up to meet Mr. Dickens upon his first Stateside tour, I wanted to give J. Robert Lennon a kick in the shins for writing something so tawdry, yet just well-written and high-concept enough to be compelling (for those of you who avoided it, the novella is Richard Russo by way of Sam Lipsyte, which is just as odd as it sounds).
And for those of you who have read it, this article in today’s Tribune says that it appears as though Happy Masters, er, Pleasant Rowland, has finally given up her struggle to make a small New England town into the American Girl version of Celebration U.S.A.
I find it very weird and very apppropriate that this story should emerge on the same day as allegations of abuse at Oprah’s school/theme park.