Last reviewed: June 2018
American novelist, short story writer, and poet.
November 1, 1871
Newark, New Jersey
June 5, 1900
Badenweiler, Germany
Born in Newark in 1871, Stephen Crane was the fourteenth child in the ministerial household of the Reverend Jonathan Townley Crane and his wife Mary, an active participant in the New Jersey temperance movement. His father’s frequent moves to pastorates in New Jersey and New York gave the youngest Crane an opportunity to grow up in a variety of environments. As a boy he shocked his family by announcing his disbelief in hell, a protest against the apparent futility of his father’s devoted service to Methodism. Ideals with which the Reverend Crane sternly allied himself did not correspond to life as his son came to know it. Stephen later wrote of his father, who died in 1880, "He was so simple and good that I often think he didn’t know much of anything about humanity." Although physically frail, Stephen Crane was essentially an outdoorsman. At Lafayette College (1889–1890) and at Syracuse University (1890–1891) he distinguished himself in boxing and as a shortstop on the varsity team, though he never earned a degree. Years later, Joseph Conrad paid tribute to him as a good shot and a fine horseman. Crane was never formally well educated, and his real education sprang from a keen ability to observe and learn from his surroundings. Stephen Crane
In the fall of 1891, Crane decided to write rather than return to college. He moved to New York City, where he lived a precarious five years as a freelance newspaper writer. While a fledgling reporter for the New York Tribune, he studied the intimate nature of New York’s Lower East Side, sleeping in Bowery shelters to learn of slum life firsthand. No one escaped his keen observation: beggars, vagrants, drunkards, prostitutes. However, Crane’s news reports often contained more fiction than fact, so the Tribune fired him in 1892.
Crane’s mother died on December 7, 1891, and Crane claims to have written his first novel that month "in the two days before Christmas." The characters were nameless and the book untitled, so his brother William suggested the title Maggie: A Girl of the Streets. The work was not a "respectable" book, and when no publisher would take it, Crane paid to have eleven hundred copies printed in early 1893 under the pseudonym Johnston Smith. Few copies of the book were sold, but Crane gave away many to friends and other writers. Impressed by Maggie: A Girl of the Streets, Hamlin Garland became the first established writer to show faith in Crane’s talent. William Dean Howells also saw merit in the novel, but the book did not receive much attention. It was not until 1896, after the success of The Red Badge of Courage: An Episode of the American Civil War, that the book was reissued under its author’s name. In Maggie: A Girl of the Streets, Crane had discovered the slum as literary material; thus naturalism entered American letters, and from that obscure beginning his feeling for dialect and his knowledge of American life fastened his fiction in reality. In contrast to the light romances of its period, Maggie: A Girl of the Streets proclaimed a world without virtue. Because Crane’s outlook was cynical, he was not disposed to cry the cause of his heroine, Maggie Johnson, nor to expect a reform of the environment which spawned her. Maggie never evokes pity; instead, she resembles a figure in a Greek drama whose fate is sealed before the play begins.
Through his reading and endless conversations with Civil War veterans, Crane had grown up intrigued by war. In 1893 he began writing the first American novel to describe not only what a soldier did but also how he felt. When The Red Badge of Courage: An Episode of the American Civil War first appeared in installment form in The Philadelphia Press, December 3–8, 1894, Crane received less than one hundred dollars. Publication in book form was delayed until October 3, 1895, because Crane was traveling in the West, the Southwest, and Mexico. The book established Crane as a major novelist, but success and fame never brought him wealth.
The novel depicted a youth confused and battered about by war, as Crane had been by life. Written about an individual soldier, a minor player in the great drama of the Civil War, the book appealed to the American mind. Crane, always eager for new sensations and with a seeming personal delight in danger, wrote of war as he imagined it. In the tense and telegraphic manner peculiar to him, he flashed a series of individual pictures of war, each heightened by color images reflecting the psychological horror of the event. The character Henry Fleming’s fear was one which Crane himself felt.
Crane’s characters do not fashion their worlds. Things happen to them, and under stress they react as the event dictates. The author feels no sentimental concern for Maggie or Henry; they mirror the brutal forces of their environments and are not distinct personalities. Maggie’s mind is not entered by the novelist, but it seems certain that she will be battered to death by an environment which she is powerless to escape. Henry’s mind is entered, and in entering it the author unlocks the thoughts and emotions of humankind at war.
During the incident which provided material for "The Open Boat," Crane was shipwrecked off the coast of Florida while serving with a Cuban filibustering expedition in 1896. In Jacksonville, Florida, he met Cora Taylor, a married (though estranged from her husband) woman six years older than he who had worked as a prostitute and managed a less-than-respectable hotel in Jacksonville. Although they were never legally married, Taylor followed Crane as he covered the Greco-Turkish War for The New York Journal and remained with him until his death.
Notoriety arising from false reports that Crane was addicted to liquor and morphine may have influenced his decision to establish residence in England. Having developed strong friendships with Joseph Conrad and Henry James, he remained in England except for a brief return to cover the Spanish-American War for The World. While in Cuba, Crane met Frank Norris. Crane was brave if not foolhardy under fire, and the fatigue of battle further broke his health. Conrad, perhaps Crane’s most intimate friend, was displeased to witness at Brede Place, Sussex, shortly before Crane’s death, an unhappy talent lost in a maze of hack work.
On assignment as a special writer for the London Morning Post, Crane collapsed, ill from the tuberculosis which caused his death in Badenweiler, Germany, on June 5, 1900, after a futile trip to the Black Forest in search of a cure. His body was returned to his family plot in Elizabeth, New Jersey.
A trailblazer of unquestioned sincerity, Crane felt and knew that what he wrote contained the essence of truth. Portraying a universe without meaning or order, he sensed only that his task was to point out the cutting irony of circumstances and to probe the fate of his experimental men and women as they reacted to the intensely cruel pressures of a meaningless yet always victorious circumstance.