Quarter twain, quarter twain, MARK Twain! It was the call of the steamboat leadsman announcing the depth of the river at "twain," two fathoms, that gave a pen name to America's best loved humourist. Samuel Langhorne Clemens, himself once a riverboat pilot, never actually planned to be a writer, but his wide-ranging travels during the Civil War persuaded him otherwise. And yet for all the affection with which we regard Mark Twain today, recent examinations of the man reveal a darker, more unsettled side, a man who blamed himself for the deaths of daughters and brothers, and found, in that grieving, the breezy, sharp wit that earned him such fame. We're plumbing the depths of the man and the writer, comprehending Clemens, fathoming Twain.
