Edmund Wilson - Literary Essays and Reviews of the 1920s and 30s

The Library of America edition of Edmund Wilson's work, Literary Essays and Reviews of the 1920s and 30s, contains The Shores of Light, Axel's Castle, and 'Uncollected Reviews' of the period. The collection reviews and examines writers who have been forgotten by time and writers whose names still light up the literary sky of the twentieth century. He writes with a determinedly critical eye, unwilling to allow a great author – even one for whom he admits much admiration – the slightest inkling of a free lunch. Wilson's pen is sharp, slicing through the fat of the matter to reveal what lies underneath. He searches for the beating heart of a novel, it's moral or aesthetic side.

The Shores of Light displays Wilson's great admiration for Continental literature, often at the expense of his own countrymen. Wilson was aware that America, as a literary force, was in the 1920s a young country that had not yet found its feet. In The New American Comedy he writes that 'Our American dramatists do not write very well', and goes on to explain why in a manner that expresses hope for the future of American literature while remaining fully aware of the pitfalls ahead. He was confident that America would come good, and has much to say in praise of those authors he considered worthy. For all that his writing is sprinkled liberally with references to faraway European authors, many of them French. Dante remains a touchstone, and rightly so – though the Library of America would have done well to translate Dante's quoted Italian in a footnote rather than buried away at the end of the book.

Edmund Wilson edited the pieces in The Shores of Light to better align them with his then-current writing style and literary beliefs. It is interesting to note that he does not shy away from admitting to grievous faults or markedly changed opinions. The comments of his younger years are left, with footnotes from the author detailing his change of heart. He is unapologetic for once leaving Stephen Crane off the list of great American authors, but at the same time he is willing to admit that now his thoughts have changed. This honesty of criticism is something that is remarkably consistent with Wilson's own desires that literature possess a moral centre. That is not to say Wilson was a prude but rather he wanted an author to say something rather than simply say. He was not a fan of style over substance, which indicates itself in the harsh comments he reserves for Ezra Pound and e e cummings.

He does not shy away from grand statements. It is difficult not to admit to F Scot Fitzgerald's flaws as a writer, but how many can come up with such a statement as this? Wilson writes, 'I have said that This Side of Paradise commits almost every sin that a novel can possibly commit: but it does not commit the unpardonable sin: it does not fail to live.' Heady praise at the end of a sharp attack, with Wilson going on to outline in great detail the areas where Fitzgerald often fails as a writer. It is important to know that this was written before The Great Gatsby was published, but all the same it is difficult not to cringe in sympathy for Fitzgerald when Wilson declares This Side of Paradise as 'one of the most illiterate books of any merit ever published.'

On Sinclair Lewis 'You have to read the whole of a novel of Lewis to find out that there is anything remarkable about it', which is as about a subtle a reading of Lewis that I have ever seen. Clarity sparkles through the six hundred odd pages of The Shores of Light, with sentences of such astonishing insight that a reader will find themselves utterly persuaded to Wilson's point of view.

Where The Shores of Light is a collection of pieces, Axel's Castle is a thematically coherent work on modernism that made Wilson's reputation as a serious literary critic. Axel's Castle discusses, at length, Yeats, Valery, Eliot, Proust, Joyce, Stein and Rimbaud. Joyce and Proust form the centre of this work, with poor Gertrude Stein receiving less than ten pages. Wilson writes that, 'Symbolism, indeed, sometimes had the result of making poetry so much a private concern of the poet's that it turned out to be incommunicable to the reader.' He is not wholly critical, however, but rather concerned with Symbolism's disconcerting method of excluding the reader through the use of symbols that cannot fully translate from the author's experience to the reader. For all that, Proust was 'the first important novelist to apply the principles of Symbolism in fiction', where Joyce's achievement (among others) was, 'he is reproducing in literature the different aspects, the different proportions and textures, which things and people take on at different times and under different circumstances.'

Modernism sometimes seems stuffy now, which is perhaps more of a failing of the current literary trends than modernism itself. Wilson, without being shrill and without carping the point, has created a remarkable examination, defence and exhortation of the merits of modernism. Granted, the work was written in the 1930s, when modernism was at the fore, but that has very little real bearing on a reader approaching the text today. Reading Axel's Castle is a fine – and, at less than two hundred pages, short – method for rejuvenating an appreciation of these wonderful authors.

'Uncollected Reviews' is simply that, a collection of pieces published over the years that were not assembled into The Shores of Light. As with all the other aspects of Wilson's writing, these reviews – which touch on Shaw, Wharton and Mencken, among others – show the author's strengths to great advantage. Wilson truly believes in writing, something which is evident on every page. He is not writing to browbeat the reader to his opinion, and nor is he a musty academic caught up in the 'publish or peril' essay factory. This sheer love of literature, and the recognition of the importance of literature, is manifest throughout all of Wilson's writing.

Like the minor character of the manager of a brokerage from Saul Bellow's Seize the Day, a critic's duty is to 'know and know and know'. He or she is expected to have read everything and be able to link any two authors, from any time period and any genre, in a way that is both refreshing, exciting, and fully justified within the criticism – and all the while using these comments to reflect upon the work under review! Plainly, this is impossible, but Wilson goes a long way to achieving such a goal. As an autodidact and self-made literary man not beholden to any university or ideology during his career, Wilson was relentlessly, endlessly exhaustive in his reading. Couple that with a prodigious memory – or excellent research skills – and what is there left to produce but literary genius?

Reading Wilson's criticism it is interesting to note how intensely personal these pieces of writing are. They are writing in a familiar style, with the author very often referring to himself. He 'believes' a certain thing about an author, he emphatically positions his arguments as his opinions, based on his thoughts, and coming from his mind. This is a refreshing change from the prevailing trend of criticism today, which seems to want to reduce the reviewer to someone who speaks on behalf of everyone rather than themselves. Edmund Wilson accepts full responsibility for his criticism, and best of all he is able to justify himself through his astonishing erudition and marvelous intellect. It is difficult not to praise him highly enough, and though his requirement of a moral centre for a work may seem somewhat dated in this post-modern world of ours, there is something very tangible and concrete about Wilson's criticism that will ensure it remains a touchstone of twentieth century literary analysis.

Other works of interest under review

Ozick, Cynthia:
---The Din in the Head
---What Henry James Knew

Links

Wikipedia
Library of America - Publicity Page
World Socialist Website - Review
The Guardian - Review

Categories

American Authors