publishing peccadilloes revisited

Music: DJ Yeshu: For Cheree (2007)

This morning I received a rather startling email from someone who I considered one of three foes: a senior editor at Telos: A Quarterly Journal of Critical Thought. Some readers may be familiar with my essay "Publication Peccadlloes and the Idioms of Disposition" in Communication Studies (vol. 54, Fall 2003: 370-377), in which I openly discuss the politics of rejection (here's a PDF of that essay). At least 70% of the email and comments I receive from readers about my work concerns this essay and the (shocking to some) opening example of a rejection letter:

You stupid fuck! How can you submit to us an article with thius [sic] increduibly [sic] stupid footnote? And you i [sic] "As an associate editor of Telos [entire footnote is quoted]." You obviously have not learned anything. Not even how to spell Schmitt's name. Kleep [sic] playing around with Benjamin and you will have a brilliant career among assholes such as yourself.

During a recent and (somewhat surprisingly) successful panel at NCA, "Manuscript Rejection Letters: A Reader's Theatre," I read this and related exchanges between the editor and me---to audible gasps from the audience.

Here's the problem: I identified the editor as Lauren Alleyne, the signatory of said rejection letter. The message I received this morning was from Lauren, who was horrified. You see, Lauren was the editorial assistant of senior editor Paul Piccone. Mr. Piccone, widely known for his sharp thinking, bombastic style, and for introducing English translations of key works from the Frankfurt School, deliberately misled me into thinking the message was from Lauren (read more about Piccone here). Although she credits Piccone for being good to her in many ways, Lauren is quick to acknowledge his meanness. In her message Lauren said, "It's funny, but I recall a day, when he laughed out gleefully, and I asked what was so funny. He responded 'you just sent an angry email to someone,' I was suspicious, but I nodded and went back to work . . . . I'd bet anything it was this email to you that he'd just sent!" Apparently it was.

Lauren shared with me an essay that she also wrote about Mr. Piccone titled "A Letter To The Old Fart Who Thought A Grab Would Cure My Feminism," which you can read here.

I am still a little blown-back by the meanness of this (sometimes) celebrated editor. Not only did he deliberately set out to squash the ego of a junior trying to figure out the publication game, but also subject Lauren to the misjudgement of strangers. I feel terrible for Lauren, and would hope this story gets out there and is told every time my essay is read.

I have apologized the Lauren. She gave me permission to post her email here in full. Read on, I suppose, as we contemplate the ethical dimensions of scholarship and professional comportment.

To: slewfoot@mail.utexas.edu
From: Lauren K Alleyne
Subject: Publishing peccadilloes and idioms of disposition: Views from the habitus of scholarly adolescence
Date: Wed, 14 Mar 2007 17:21:37 +0300

Or, "Thank God for Google!"

Mr. Gunn,

Greetings of the day. My name is probably familiar to you; I am Lauren Alleyne. What is probably going to shock you as much as it shocked me, is that although I did work for Telos Press for over a year, I am not the person who penned the awful note you published in your article in Communication Studies.

I was horrified to discover this article on the internet one day; I was engaged in the narcissistic activity of googling myself. Going past the first few pages, I found that Lauren Alleyne is also an accomplice to a murder in Boston (she has since been sentenced) and, yes, the rude and incoherent author of the rejection letter from hell. The latter worried me more than the former (I've never been to Boston), because there was a grain of truth, which disturbed me greatly.

The masthead of Telos, in those years, show that I was the Circulation Manager, which was a generous title the boss bestowed on his nineteen-year old intern who'd never actually read the journal she worked for. My job was to mail out the journal, update subscription lists, and get bagels and coffee for my boss before he got too grumpy.

Said boss, was the senior editor, Paul Piccone, and it was he who vetted and distributed all the manuscripts for review and corresponded with the authors. I am certain he authored this letter; I recognize the tone.

It's funny, but I recall a day, when he laughed out gleefully, and I asked what was so funny. He responded "you just sent an angry email to someone," I was suspicious, but I nodded and went back to work, because often when I had particularly complex exchanges with non-payers and/or belligerent subscribers, I would forward them to him to deal with - he was better at that stuff. The incident always remained with me, and returned with such force as I read your article, and I'd bet anything it was this email to you that he'd just sent!

In any event, I've moved through such a range of emotions regarding this situation. Horror, that this was out there as something I'd written (I'm now a young academic myself, and a writer); pure fury at Paul's cowardice, and abuse of his situation; frustration at having no one to direct this fury toward - it's not your fault that you've made this horrible document public, and, well, Paul is dead; and helplessness.

What can I say, maybe this is a follow-up article to the one you wrote. It certainly has some connections in terms of abuse of power, and the vulnerability of the young, as well as possible repercussions -- what if you'd been on a hiring committee for a job I'd applied for?

I don't know what I'm hoping this email can accomplish -- but at the very least, I wanted to clear my name with you. I'm a poet now, and I have to deal with rejection all the time, and honestly, I never get used to it. so I can't imagine what it must have been like to receive such a virulent one! I'm truly sorry for that.

I've attached some links, which will tell you more about Paul and one, which is, ironically, an essay I wrote about a dealing with him as well. A revision of it will appear in the next issue of Womens' Studies Quarterly. What can I say, it's ironic how his attempts to silence and shut down only resulted in this proliferation of words!

Best wishes to you, Mr Gunn.

Lauren K. Alleyne

As I said to Lauren in an exchange, "I'm terribly sorry over this and hope that you'll accept my apology . . . and friendship. Kindness between strangers is frequently forged in the shadow of a mean Other." Funny way to make a new friend, I know, but it is one great way to repair meanness when it happens.