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Title: H. L. Mencken
Author: Randolph Bourne
Date: 1917
Language: en
Topics: history
Source: Retrieved on November 18, 2010 from http://fair-use.org/the-new-republic/1917/11/24/h-l-mencken
Notes: from The New Republic, November 24, 1917

Randolph Bourne

H. L. Mencken

Mr. Mencken gives the impression of an able mind so harried and

irritated by the philistinism of American life that it has not been able

to attain its full power. These more carefully worked-over critical

essays are, on the whole, less interesting and provocative than the

irresponsible comment he gives us in his magazine. How is it that so

robust a hater of uplift and puritanism becomes so fanatical a crusader

himself? One is forced to call Mr. Mencken a moralist, for with him

appraisement has constantly to stop while he tilts against philistine

critics and outrageous puritans. In order to show how good a writer is,

he must first show how deplorably fatuous, malicious or ignorant are all

those who dislike him. Such a proof is undoubtedly the first impulse of

any mind that cares deeply about artistic values. But Mr. Mencken too

often permits it to be his last, and wastes away into a desert of

invective. Yet he has all the raw material of the good critic — moral

freedom, a passion for ideas and for literary beauty, vigor and pungency

of phrase, considerable reference and knowledge. Why have these

intellectual qualities and possessions been worked up only so partially

into the finished attitude of criticism? Has he not let himself be the

victim of that paralyzing Demos against which he so justly rages? As you

follow his strident paragraphs, you become a little sorry that there is

not more of a contrast in tone between his illumination of the brave,

the free, and the beautiful, and the peevish complaints of the

superannuated critics of the old school. When are we going to get

anything critically curative done for our generation, if our critical

rebels are to spend their lives cutting off hydra-heads of American

stodginess?

Mr. Mencken’s moralism infects the essay on Conrad perhaps the least.

With considerable effort the critic shakes himself loose from the

clutches of his puritan enemies and sets Conrad very justly in relation

to his time. “What he sees and describes in his books,” Mr. Mencken

says, “is not merely this man’s aspiration or that woman’s destiny, but

the overhwelming sweep and devastation of universal forces, the great

central drama that is at the heart of all other dramas, the tragic

struggles of the soul of man under the gross stupidity and obscene

joking of the gods.” He likes Dreiser for the same reason, because “he

puts into his novels a touch of the eternal Weltschmerz. They get below

drama that is of the moment and reveal the greater drama that is without

end.” Mr. Mencken discusses Dreiser with admirable balance, and his

essay is important because it criticizes him more harshly and more

searchingly than many of us dare to do when we are defending him against

the outrageous puritan. The essay on Huneker is perhaps the most

entertaining. If “to be a civilized man in America is measurably less

difficult, despite the war, than it used to be, say, in 1890” (when Mr.

Mencken, by the way, was ten years old), it is to Mr. Huneker’s gallant

excitement that part of the credit is due.

Dreiser and Huneker Mr. Mencken used with the utmost lustiness, as

Samson used the jaw-bone, to slay a thousand Philistines, and his zeal

mounts to a closing essay on Puritanism as a Literary Force, which

employs all the Menckenian artillery. Here Mr. Mencken, as the moralist

contra moralism, runs amuck. It is an exposure that should stir our

blood, but it is so heavily documented and so stern in its conviction of

the brooding curtain of bigotry that hangs over our land, that its

effect must be to throw paralyzing terror into every American mind that

henceforth dares to think of not being a prude. Mr. Mencken wants to

liberate, but any one who took his huge concern seriously would never

dare challenge in any form that engine of puritanism which derives its

energy from the history and soul of the American people. Mr. Mencken is

much in earnest. His invective rises above the tone of scornful

exaggeration. But his despair seems a little forced. I cannot see that

the younger writers — particularly the verse-writers — are conscious of

living under any such cultural terrorism as he describes. Mr. Mencken

admits that the puritan proscription is irrational and incalculable in

its operation. Surely as long as there are magazines and publishers — as

there are in increasing numbers — who will issue vigorous and candid

work, comstockery in art must be seen as an annoying but not dominating

force. Mr. Mencken queerly shows himself as editor, of “a long list of

such things by American authors, well-devised, well-imagined,

respectable as human documents and as works of art — but never to be

printed in mine or any other American magazine.” But what is this but to

act as busy ally to that very comstockery he denounces? If the Menckens

are not going to run the risk, in the name of freedom, they are scarcely

justified in trying to infect us with their own caution.

The perspective is false that sees this persecution as peculiar to

America. Was not Lemonnier prosecuted in Paris? Did not Baudelaire,

Flaubert, Zola suffer? Did not Zola’s publisher in England die in

prison? Has not D. H. Lawrence’s latest novel been suppressed in England

before it had even a chance to be prosecuted here? It is England not

America that has an official censorship of plays. Comstockery is not so

much a function of American culture as it is of the current moralism of

our general middle-class civilization. The attack must be, as Nietzsche

made it, on that moralism rather than on its symptoms. But Mr. Mencken

is not particularly happy in his understanding of Nietzsche. He wrote

the book from which a majority of the Americans who know about Nietzsche

seem to have gotten their ideas. How crude a summary it is may be seen

by compariing it with the recent study of Nietzsche by another American,

W. M. Salter. One wishes Mr. Mencken had spent more time in

understanding the depth and subtleties of Nietzsche, and less on

shuddering at puritanism as a literary force, and on discovering how the

public libraries and newspaper reviewers are treating Theodore Dreiser.

Mr. Mencken’s mode of critical attack thus plays into the hands of the

philistines, demoralizes the artist, and demoralizes his own critical

power. Why cannot Demos be left alone for a while to its commercial

magazines and its mawkish novels? All good writing is produced in serene

unconsciousness of what Demos desires or demands. It cannot be created

at all if the artist worries about what Demos will think of him or do to

him. The artist writes for that imagined audience of perfect

comprehenders. The critic must judge for that audience too.