In E.L. Doctorow’s Ragtime, the American Melting Pot is represented by a variety of characters, all of whom experience and communicate with each other in numerous important ways. One of the more fascinating and closely-connected characters in the novel is Evelyn Nesbit, who is told by Emma Goldman early in the novel, “But there are correspondences, you see, our lives correspond, our spirits touch each other like notes in harmony, and in the total human fate we are sisters” (60-61). This sentence sums up the spirit of the book – everyone is connected, and everyone corresponds with each other in very significant ways. Evelyn Nesbit is no exception; her dealings and interactions with many other characters in the novel encapsulates Ragtime’s central idea of unity and connection.
Evelyn Nesbit is based on the real-life figure who was made famous in the early 1900s as a sex symbol and model; her presence in the novel follows along with many other famous figures in the book, as they interact with the regular characters and act as benevolent or intervening forces in the novel. Her status as a cultural icon is a unifying force throughout the book, as everyone has an opinion on her relationship to Harry Thaw and the impact of the murder on her psyche. Mother’s Younger Brother, for instance, is convinced that she needs a man now more than ever in this trying time, and becomes infatuated with her. The fact that she is an immigrant also ties her inextricably with the anti-immigrant sentiment that was rising at the time; America during the Industrial Revolution was experiencing a huge influx of people from European countries such as Poland and Ireland, and there was tremendous animosity towards these people. Nesbit’s presence and the shift in public opinion about her reflected this change: "Evelyn fainted. She had been a well-known artist's model at the age of fifteen. Her underclothes were white. Her husband habitually whipped her. She happened once to meet Emma Goldman, the revolutionary. Goldman lashed her with her tongue. Apparently there were Negroes. There were immigrants" (Doctorow, Chapter 1).
The obsession that Mother’s Younger Brother has with Evelyn follows him throughout the book; when he is watching the beautiful fireworks shooting over New York City, “he turned his intense eyes on the black night and thought of Evelyn” (Chapter 4). This adoration becomes indicative of the sexualized and culturally important nature of Evelyn Nesbit, as she is a focal point for him (and presumably many others), particularly during her highly publicized presence in the trial of her husband. He begins to follow her regularly and stoke the fires of his passion for her, representing the ardent fans who lust after her as a cultural sex symbol. His is the unrequited love that Evelyn has to deal with on a regular basis, which is why later honest friendships in the book are so enlightening to her.
Evelyn’s biggest interaction or correspondence with another character in the book is through her interest in Tateh and his daughter. Finding the daughter on the street by herself, this is one of the few moments when Evelyn is not tracked by reporters; this allows her to be herself and open up to the girl and her father Tateh. Her conversations with them are refreshing, and she continually visits them to have Tateh render silhouettes of her and allow her to feel alive again. Her infatuation with them grows to the point where she wants to kidnap the child and take it back with her, but she does manage to stop herself.
Evelyn is married to Harry Thaw, whose murder of Stanford White (her ex-husband) raises serious red flags about their relationship, and brings up many questions about how he treats her. Despite Evelyn’s largesse and fame, this set of anxieties and revelations unifies and humanizes her in front of the public. She is no longer a rich debutante, but the victim of a harrowing trial and public scandal. Not only that, she must evaluate her own relationship with Thaw (as well as her non-consensual deflowering by Stanford White when she was fifteen). The public’s perception of her was colored by their perception of Thaw as a persistently violent man: “[I]t it was going to be difficult to persuade a jury that Harry K. Thaw became deranged only upon the telling of that tale” (Chapter 4). As she recalls his suicide attempts and his temper, she is realizing his insanity just as the public is; in that way, she is also connected to them. In many ways, Evelyn is just as much a spectator to the trial of Harry Thaw as the public, as she learns or realizes many things about him she was not cognizant of before.
Evelyn’s friendship with the revolutionary Emma Goldman is yet another correspondence. Emma Goldman, a fiery and passionate socialist leader, manages to closely evaluate Evelyn as a person, and finds her an opportunistic capitalist who merely capitalizes on her beauty to gain cachet within society. Emma’s undressing of Evelyn allows her to feel free of the pressures and restrictions fame brings her (including the scrutiny of having a famous husband on trial). Emma is a purveyor of truth in the novel, especially to Evelyn; their correspondence is a highly enlightening one, as she correctly identifies the notoriety and money that is actually making her incredibly unhappy. "Goldman sent a letter off to Evelyn: I am often asked the question How can the masses permit themselves to be exploited by the few. The answer is By being persuaded to identify with them” (Doctorow, Chapter 11).
In conclusion, Evelyn Nesbit has many correspondences with people in Ragtime, serving to further Doctorow’s thesis that the turn of the century was a very confusing and complex turning point for American society. All of these interactions and more contribute to the novel’s idea that everyone is connected, and serves as a microcosm for all of the changes America was going through at the turn of the 20th century. Issues of class and gender are rampant in her dealings with Emma, Tateh, his daughter, and Harry Thaw; Evelyn makes her living being rich and famous, and when this falls through spectacularly in the murder trial, she must find refuge in the love of Tateh’s daughter and the liberation Emma Goldman provides her. Her presence as an agent of lust and capitalism eventually leads to Mother’s Younger Brother’s death. Evelyn is able to form connections, both tenuous and tight-knit, between so many people, allowing Doctorow to show how much we depend on people for our own happiness.
Works Cited
Doctorow, E.L. Ragtime. Random House, 1975. Print.
