Upton Sinclair

Joseph Bissin's letter (April 19) includes a too-common error of confusing Upton Sinclair and Sinclair Lewis--both notable American authors. Upton Sinclair, not Sinclair Lewis, wrote "The Jungle." They were good friends, and I believe both would want the mistake corrected. HUBERT MOREHEAD Rancho Palos Verdes

"The Accursed," an astonishing fever dream of a novel, sets loose specters from the beyond to prey on innocent and guilty alike. But are there any real innocents in the diseased society Oates so scathingly depicts? Making skillful use of gothic fiction's time-honored conventions - demon lovers, haunted houses, guilty secrets, murderous transformations, supernatural visitations - the author repeatedly connects these unearthly manifestations to moral rot in the real world, in this case the "claustrophobic little world of privilege and anxiety" that is Princeton, N.J., in 1905 and '06. The president of Princeton University is Woodrow Wilson, embroiled in a power struggle with a popular dean over his desire to curb the eating clubs that dominate the school's social life.

The state Office of Historic Preservation has determined that the former home of author Upton Sinclair, which was damaged last year in the Sierra Madre earthquake, cannot be demolished by its owner. Steve Hastings had sought a demolition permit after the muckraking novelist's former house was damaged by the 5.8-magnitude earthquake that shook the San Gabriel Valley on June 28.

The house that social reformer and novelist Upton Sinclair lived in during the 1940s through the '60s has come on the market in Monrovia at $1.5 million. Built in 1923, the Spanish Colonial Revival-style residence is listed on the National Register of Historical Places and is a National Historic Landmark. High arched windows, Mission Revival roof parapets and an ornate arched doorway are among the original features. French doors open off the living room and formal dining room to a covered side patio.

Author Upton Sinclair's former home, damaged by the Sierra Madre earthquake, is in danger of demolition, say Monrovia officials who want to preserve it. The Myrtle Avenue home where the late writer lived from 1941 to 1962 was knocked off its foundation by the 5.8 earthquake that rocked the San Gabriel Valley almost two weeks ago. Community Development Director Don Hopper said owner Steve Hastings came to City Hall and talked to officials about tearing down the home.

UPTON SINCLAIR lived a life of almost cartoonish excitements. He was born in Baltimore in 1878, the frail son of parents whose wealth was fading. In 1888, the family headed to New York and, as Anthony Arthur relates in his fine new biography, "Radical Innocent," the Sinclairs lived hand to mouth, "sliding steadily downwards through a series of boarding houses that catered to displaced southerners like themselves."

In June 1916, Upton Sinclair apologized before his talk to the ladies of the Friday Morning Club of Los Angeles for failing to get his shaggy hair trimmed -- he joked that he hadn't been able to spy a barbershop pole in his new hometown of Pasadena because of all the patriotic red, white and blue bunting in support of American entry into the war in Europe.

A few weeks after the 1934 California gubernatorial election, Hollywood liberals gathered at a Beverly Hills party hosted by actor Fredric March. They complained bitterly about the smear campaign directed at the defeated Democratic candidate for governor of California, muckraking author Upton Sinclair. Most troubling to the gathering: the series of pseudo-newsreel propaganda films that had scuttled Sinclair's chances, marking the first time the screen had ever been used to demolish a candidate.

By the time Upton Sinclair moved West, setting in motion a chain of events that would lead to the founding of the American Civil Liberties Union of Southern California, he had established an international reputation as a social activist and muckraker. His novel "The Jungle" (1906), exposing the inhuman conditions in the meat-packing industry of Chicago, had virtually invented investigative journalism.

"We don't go in for that kind of crap that you have back in New York--of being obliged to print both sides. We're going to beat this son of a bitch Sinclair any way we can. . . . We're going to kill him." The speaker: Kyle Palmer, Los Angeles Times political editor, to Turner Catledge of the New York Times.

UPTON SINCLAIR lived a life of almost cartoonish excitements. He was born in Baltimore in 1878, the frail son of parents whose wealth was fading. In 1888, the family headed to New York and, as Anthony Arthur relates in his fine new biography, "Radical Innocent," the Sinclairs lived hand to mouth, "sliding steadily downwards through a series of boarding houses that catered to displaced southerners like themselves."

May 15, 1923: Upton Sinclair, a crusading writer, climbed the steps of a platform that striking dockworkers had built atop what they named Liberty Hill in San Pedro. As someone held a candle for illumination, Sinclair began reading the Bill of Rights, making no reference to the 600 dockworkers who had recently been arrested for striking. Sinclair only got as far as the first three lines of the 1st Amendment, which guarantees freedom of speech, before he was arrested.

ANY face, viewed too closely, will appear as unreal as a face in a dream. In his second novel, "U.S.!," Chris Bachelder looks too long in the face of Upton Sinclair, the great muckraking socialist of the American past and author of 87 books, including "The Jungle," a seminal work that took readers inside the Chicago slaughterhouses. The real Sinclair died in 1968, mostly forgotten but still fighting. In "U.S.!

IN May 1903, the ambitious 24-year-old novelist Upton Sinclair feared that he was a failure, "a would-be singer and penniless rat." Less than three years later, almost immediately after the publication of "The Jungle" on Feb. 26, 1906, his renown was so widespread that the New York Evening World marveled: "Not since Byron awoke one morning to find himself famous has there been such an example of world-wide celebrity won in a day by a book as has come to Upton Sinclair."

Re "Sinclair Letter Turns Out to Be Another Expose," Dec. 24 History has shown that Richard Nixon was correct about Alger Hiss, and, with the fall of the Soviet Union, that Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were, in fact, atomic spies. Now Upton Sinclair knew that he fabricated the innocence of Sacco and Vanzetti. They were, in fact, cold-blooded killers. It seems that the left is easily deceived. JERRY ANDERSEN Pacific Palisades

Ordinarily, Paul Hegness wouldn't have looked twice at Lot 217 as he strolled through an Irvine auction warehouse, preferring first-edition books and artwork to the box stuffed with old papers and holiday cards. But then, he wouldn't have stumbled upon a confession from one of America's great authors. Inside the box, an envelope postmarked Sept. 12, 1929, caught his eye. It was addressed to John Beardsley, Esq., of Los Angeles. The return address read, "Upton Sinclair, Long Beach."

In June 1916, Upton Sinclair apologized before his talk to the ladies of the Friday Morning Club of Los Angeles for failing to get his shaggy hair trimmed -- he joked that he hadn't been able to spy a barbershop pole in his new hometown of Pasadena because of all the patriotic red, white and blue bunting in support of American entry into the war in Europe.

Overlooking the San Pedro waterfront stands a 9-foot-high bronze and stone pillar marking the site of a historic protest and the place where a muckraking idealist stood his ground. Eighty years ago this month, Upton Sinclair -- the crusading writer who would go to jail, visit the White House and nearly win the governor's mansion -- climbed the steps of a platform that striking dockworkers had built atop a hillock they named Liberty Hill.