You read Shakespeare, Shelley, George Meredith, Dostoevsky, Ibsen, and you wanted, however imperfectly and on however infinitesimal a scale, to learn their trade and have the freedom of their company." Every page of Lewis Dabney's new biography,
Edmund Wilson: A Life in Literature, is animated by that formidable ambition, in his preface, Dabney describes the meetings he had as a young man with the elderly author who "was intensely curious, and would slap his thigh in laughter, but his standards were stern." There are echoes of Wilson's infectious curiosity and sky-high standards in the eloquently paced, beautifully considered prose of this masterful biography.
An examination of Paul Elmer More's late essay, "Proust: The Two Ways" (1933), which takes a strange lead from
Edmund Wilson's Proust essay in Axel's Castle (1931), will show how conservative literary criticism could only find Proust indigestible.
His comparison of Lincoln to Bismarck and Mazzini, for example, was anticipated by
Edmund Wilson, a great literary critic but a man capable of monumentally flawed political judgments (for example, he urged voting for the Communist ticket in 193 2).
Instead, as people sacrificed individuality and commitment to mass passivity, the nation slipped, James argued, into the moral unconsciousness he defined as "drift." The players in Berman's pageant of despair are many: Royce, Dewey, Russell, Wittgenstein, Santayana, Whitehead, Niebuhr, and Berlin among the philosophers; Van Wyck Brooks, Mencken, Gilbert Seldes, and
Edmund Wilson among the literary critics and social commentators.
He did not directly address the subject of his dispute with
Edmund Wilson, the topic of an article in this month's Currents in Modern Thought, but many of his interpretations of Ulysses provided clues as to why he was right in his opposition to political art.
That theme is continued in "Part Four: Dreams and Awakenings 1915--1945," a period when--no matter that eastern critics like
Edmund Wilson denied it--this state's literature surged, with major writers developing or settling all over the state: Robinson Jeffers, Dashiell Hammett, William Saroyan, John Steinbeck, Raymond Chandler, Nathaniel West...the usual suspects.
(The fact that the ebb and flow of Civil War memory could be charted in The Atlantic Monthly, Century Magazine, and other popular periodicals led critic
Edmund Wilson to observe that "old issues must be put to sleep with the chloroform of magazine prose.")
There is a sprinkling of typographical errors and a few of the index dates are incomplete or in error (
Edmund Wilson's birth date is a decade out, while Anna Seghers died back in 1983).
Their lovers and husbands (notably, Philip Rahv,
Edmund Wilson, Robert Lowell and Heinrich Bl[ddot{u}]cher) appear on the scene, as do other contemporary literary figures in couples and cameos (Allen Tate and Carolyn Gordon, Lionel and Diana Trilling, Alfred Kazin, Dwight Macdonald, and so on); but Laskin casts as his starring players those three exceptional women who, he incisively shows, ended up rejecting feminism even as an idea (typing and making dinner notwithstanding.
But if this brainy woman, this "woman Stendhal," this wild Irish orphan with the abusive papist uncle and the secret Jewish grandmother, could go to bed with trolls like Philip Rahv and
Edmund Wilson, surely there was hope for all of us.
There have been those, notably
Edmund Wilson, who surmised that 'Lewis Carroll' obscured a more sympathetic man.