Main  Contacts  
Table of contents
AMORY, SON OF BEATRICE
SPIRES AND GARGOYLES
THE EGOTIST CONSIDERS
NARCISSUS OFF DUTY
THE DEBUTANTE
EXPERIMENTS IN CONVALESCENCE
YOUNG IRONY
THE SUPERCILIOUS SACRIFICE
THE EGOTIST BECOMES A PERSONAGE

going to be beheaded the day he finished it." 

 

"Is that double entente?" 

 

"Don't slow me up! Now there's a few of 'em that seem to have some 

cultural background, some intelligence and a good deal of literary 

felicity but they just simply won't write honestly; they'd all claim 

there was no public for good stuff. Then why the devil is it that Wells, 

Conrad, Galsworthy, Shaw, Bennett, and the rest depend on America for 

over half their sales?" 

 

"How does little Tommy like the poets?" 

 

Tom was overcome. He dropped his arms until they swung loosely beside 

the chair and emitted faint grunts. 

 

"I'm writing a satire on 'em now, calling it 'Boston Bards and Hearst 

Reviewers.'" 

 

"Let's hear it," said Amory eagerly. 

 

"I've only got the last few lines done." 

 

"That's very modern. Let's hear 'em, if they're funny." 

 

Tom produced a folded paper from his pocket and read aloud, pausing at 

intervals so that Amory could see that it was free verse: 

 

"So 

Walter Arensberg, 

Alfred Kreymborg, 

Carl Sandburg, 

Louis Untermeyer, 

Eunice Tietjens, 

Clara Shanafelt, 

James Oppenheim, 

Maxwell Bodenheim, 

Richard Glaenzer, 

Scharmel Iris, 

Conrad Aiken, 

I place your names here 

So that you may live 

If only as names, 

Sinuous, mauve-colored names, 

In the Juvenalia 

Of my collected editions." 

 

 

Amory roared. 

 

"You win the iron pansy. I'll buy you a meal on the arrogance of the 

last two lines." 

 

Amory did not entirely agree with Tom's sweeping damnation of 

American novelists and poets. He enjoyed both Vachel Lindsay and Booth 

Tarkington, and admired the conscientious, if slender, artistry of Edgar 

Lee Masters. 

 

"What I hate is this idiotic drivel about 'I am God--I am man--I ride 

the winds--I look through the smoke--I am the life sense.'" 

 

"It's ghastly!" 

 

"And I wish American novelists would give up trying to make business 

romantically interesting. Nobody wants to read about it, unless it's 

crooked business. If it was an entertaining subject they'd buy the life 


Page 17 from 20:  Back   1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9   10   11   12   13   14   15   16  [17]  18   19   20   Forward