Seventeen by Booth Tarkington

First published: 1916

Type of work: Novel

Type of plot: Comic realism

Time of plot: A summer in the early twentieth century

Locale: A small midwestern town

Principal characters

• William Sylvanus Baxter, a seventeen-year-old
• Mrs. Baxter, his mother
• Jane Baxter, his sister
• Miss Pratt, a summer visitor

The Story:

William Sylvanus Baxter at last reaches the impressive age of seventeen, and as he emerges from the corner drugstore after indulging in two chocolate and strawberry sodas, he tries to impress the town with his lofty air of self-importance. No one notices him except his friend, Johnny Watson, who destroys William’s hauteur in one breath by calling him “Silly Bill.” At that moment, William sees a feminine vision in pink and white. A stranger in town, she carries her parasol and her little white dog with easy grace. William, not daring to speak, manages only an insincere yawn. The vision, taking no apparent notice of William, speaks in charming lisps to her little dog Flopit and disappears around the corner.

William goes home in a daze, hardly bothering to speak to his outrageous little sister, Jane, who greets him between mouthfuls of applesauce and bread. Scorning her, he goes up to his room, his heart full of the mystery of love, and composes a poem to his new and unknown lady. He is interrupted by his mother, who asks William to go with Genesis, the black handyman, to pick up some laundry tubs from the secondhand store. The errand, to William, is worse than being seen in public with a leper, for he looks on Genesis as a ragged, bedraggled, down-at-the-heels pariah, whose presence is an unwholesome reproach to the whole neighborhood.

Genesis is in reality a wise old philosopher, despite his seminudity and the ubiquitous presence of his mongrel dog, Clematis. However, William is in no mood to be tolerant. His worst fears are realized when, on the way home, he hears behind him the silvery voice of the fair stranger referring to Clematis as a nasty old dog. William is hidden by the laundry tub he carries over his head, but his invisibility in no way diminishes his growing horror at being taken for a companion of Genesis and the owner of the dreadful Clematis. Clematis, meanwhile, is fascinated by Flopit. When William hears the yips and barks of the two dogs, he runs away, still hidden under his protecting tub.

The young vision in pink and white is the summer visitor of May Parcher. Her name, William learns, is Miss Pratt. Soon the boys in the neighborhood collect on the Parcher porch and swarm around the adorable girl every evening after supper, much to the disgust of Mr. Parcher, who lies awake for hours in his room over the porch and listens reluctantly to the drivel of conversation below. William has an advantage over the other suitors, for he borrows his father’s dress suit without his parents’ knowledge and arrives each night in splendid attire.

During the day, William cannot escape his sister Jane, who insists on appearing in dirty summer sunsuits, her face smeared with her favorite repast of applesauce and bread, just at the moment when William would be walking by the house with Miss Pratt. His angry demands that his sister present a more ladylike appearance irritate Jane to a calm, smoldering intent to get even with William. She knows that William wears his father’s dress suit every evening when he visits Miss Pratt. She also knows that Mr. Parcher is nearly crazy over the nightly sessions on his front porch. Putting these facts together, she coldly repeats to her mother some of Mr. Parcher’s comments. Mrs. Baxter is horrified that William wore out his welcome at the Parchers’, and when she discovers Mr. Baxter’s dress suit under William’s window seat, she takes it to a tailor and has it altered to fit only Mr. Baxter. William cannot go to see Miss Pratt without the dress suit. He is not among Miss Pratt’s evening admirers thereafter.

As a reward to Jane, who immediately tells him of her part in decreasing by one the population of his front porch, Mr. Parcher sends her a five-pound box of candy, much to the amazement of the whole Baxter household. No one suspects Jane’s perfidy.

Feeling herself to blame for William’s gloomy moods, Mrs. Baxter decides to have a tea for some of her son’s friends, with Miss Pratt as guest of honor. The great day arrives, swelteringly hot. Upstairs, William no sooner breaks his only collar button on his fifth and last white shirt than he has the misfortune to tear his white trousers. Another suit is splattered by Jane’s paints. By the time he finds a heavy winter suit in a trunk in the attic, the guests are gone. Angry and miserable, William sits down on Jane’s open, wet paint box.

The time comes for Miss Pratt to return home. As a farewell party, the relieved Parchers schedule a picnic in their guest’s honor. To impress Miss Pratt, William buys a package of Cuban cigarettes, but coy Miss Pratt gives all her attention to George, a braggart who stuffs himself with food to impress the beauty with his gustatory prowess. Lunch over, William offers George his cigarettes. Before long, he has the satisfaction of seeing George disappear behind a woodpile. William is blissful once more.

When Miss Pratt unexpectedly grants the weary Parchers the privilege of her company for another week, they give a final farewell dance in her honor. Mrs. Baxter has her husband’s dress suit again altered to fit William. Resplendent, but late as usual, William arrives at the dance to find all Miss Pratt’s dances taken, and he is forced to spend the evening with a lonely wallflower. His dignity suffers another blow when Genesis, serving sandwiches, not only greets William with familiarity but also chides him about the dress suit. His evening is a dismal failure.

The next day, William goes down to the train to see Miss Pratt leave. Laden with candy and lush poetry, he finds her surrounded by her many admirers. He has the uncomfortable sensation that they are all laughing at him, for they are pointing derisively in his direction. Turning, he sees Jane, who deliberately comes to torment him in company with an equally disreputable female companion. The two pranksters are walking with a vulgar strut that William abhors. So flustered is he that he merely waves to Miss Pratt and goes sadly home, forgetting that he still carries under his arm the box of candy and the poem intended for the pink and white beauty who went out of his life forever.

Bibliography

Fennimore, Keith J. Booth Tarkington. New York: Twayne, 1974. A fine basic study of Tarkington and his work, although it lacks a sustained discussion of Seventeen. The author distinguishes Seventeen as a “juvenile” work, different from Tarkington’s other novels.

Mallon, Thomas. “Hoosiers.” Atlantic Monthly 293, no. 4 (May, 2004): 123-136. Takes a close look at Tarkington’s oeuvre, finding that his few good works have been “suffocated” by the majority of the mediocre ones. Asks how the once ubiquitous Tarkington could “disappear so completely.”

Mayberry, Susanah. My Amiable Uncle: Recollections About Booth Tarkington. West Lafayette, Ind.: Purdue University Press, 1983. Tarkington’s niece recollects her personal experiences with the writer, providing an important contribution to Tarkington’s biography. Includes family photographs.

Russo, Dorothy R., and Thelma L. Sullivan. A Bibliography of Booth Tarkington. Indianapolis, Ind.: Indianapolis Historical Society, Lakeside Press, 1949. Remains useful for anyone seriously interested in Tarkington, especially in the receptions his books received in the popular press.

Russo, Dorothy R., et al. “Additions to the Tarkington Bibliography.” Princeton University Library Chronicle 15 (Winter, 1955): 89-94. An update of the previous entry.

Scott, John D. “Tarkington and the 1920’s.” American Scholar 26 (Spring, 1957): 181-194. Focuses on the social criticism in Tarkington’s work.

Woodress, James. Booth Tarkington: Gentleman from Indiana. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1955. Still one of the most thorough critical biographies of Tarkington, with an emphasis on chronological biography rather than on literary analysis.