Ivy Anderson

A “tell all” of dubious authorship and authenticity. In 1913 the San Francisco Bulletin published a series of articles purporting to be the story of “Alice Smith”, the proverbial Midwestern farm girl who moved to the Big City and ended up as a prostitute. The editors are somewhat dubious themselves, noting that that serial was likely ghostwritten and suggesting Rose Wilder Lane, daughter of Laura Ingalls Wilder and known to have ghostwritten other pieces for the Bulletin, as the author (or perhaps as someone who combined several narratives into a single piece).

The Introduction by the editors occupies about a third of the book, and gives extensive background for San Francisco history. They’re sympathetic to sex workers, both contemporary and of Alice’s era, noting that attempts at “reform” usually confirm the proverb about the use of good intentions as a paving material. In 1917, San Francisco cracked down on brothels; the net result was not redemption of the inhabitants but forcing them out of a situation where women had at least some control and into the streets, where they were quickly at the mercy of pimps and johns. In 2015, after Amnesty International called for decriminalization of consensual sex work, the “Coalition Against Trafficking in Women” responded vehemently, in letters to newspapers signed by various Hollywood celebrities. In turn, “Molly Smith”, a sex worker from Europe, countered that if criminalization was so beneficial, why couldn’t the Coalition find and quote a single sex worker in favor of it, and why were the Hollywood actresses the center of the argument rather than women actually doing sex work?

After the Introduction we get to Alice’s story proper. She’s not happy with her life on the farm; some relatives invite her to “Westville”, where the streets are paved with gold; this turns out not to be the case and Alice finds herself in a series of low-paying jobs. She meets a “friendly” cigar store owner who discretely advises her that there’s a better way to make money than working in a laundry. She gives in, and compares with some amazement the $10 she made for a few minutes of her time with the $6/week she got as a laundry worker. Well, that was that; Alice finds herself first as sort of a call girl, with “dates” set up by the cigar store owner; then as a brothel prostitute, then as a madam. She and another girl try to “go straight” and open a restaurant, but it doesn’t pay (Alice claims the other girl was too generous with food portions). Along the way, Alice observes contemporary society: the limited options available to women; the argument that many “respectable” married women were essentially trading sex with husbands they didn’t love for money and security; the claim that many of her clients were not bad sorts; and the suggestion that shop window displays of such things as fine clothes and silk stockings seduced young girls into “the life” by creating yearnings for things they couldn’t possibly afford – “making her soul seem empty”, in Alice’s words.

Alice eventually gets out; she saves enough money that she and her sister are able to go into the landlady business. Her advice for other girls is that only they can break the cycle, and they shouldn’t depend on anybody else to help them.

Well, one wonders how much of this is real and how much was invented to sell newspapers? The editors think Alice’s story is plausible; I concede it does seem to have the right “look and feel”. There’s absolutely nothing titillating about it. A few illustrations – just duplicates of pages from the Bulletin. No footnotes or index. A short bibliography. For another take from about the same time, see The Underworld Sewer; for a scholarly study see City of Eros; for something contemporary try Brothel.… (más)