Criticism

The Timeline Tool

Published by Angela Provenzano on June 15th, 2009 in Timelining, Criticism, Modernist Journals Project

Working on the timeline has been fairly simple considering that the directions and columns are easily recognizable. I feel that it doesn't take very long to post on the timeline once you have chosen your topic and literary work. I have never worked with this kind of a timeline before and I find it interesting to see what other peope in the class have written, and to also give myself the opportunity of letting others see what I enjoy reading, and how I have responded to the pieces that I choose to write about. Working on the timelines in my collaborative assignment has been successful because I was able to catch a glimse and get some insight as to what my group members were reading and writing about in regards to our topic. I think that the timeline makes our discussions easier and opens up the lines of communication within our groups. Even though we each wrote our timelines individually, we all came together in the end to discuss our pieces and responses to them. I don't mind the timeline because I see it as an effective tool in both individual and collaborative work.

The New Age

Published by Angela Provenzano on June 8th, 2009 in Bibliographic Coding, The New Age, Criticism Mark Twain

The article I read that I felt included bibliographic coding was written by W.D.P Bliss of The New Age. This article entitled Mark Twain was a direct critique of how Bliss views Twain as a writer and as a person. He quotes Twain many times, mentioning that Twain was a gifted writer that made many laugh. He goes onto say how he finds it hard to believe that such a writer was born from a country that seems to be so very serious about everything. At first it was hard to tell if the author was for or against the writings of Twain. Bliss took a lot of what Twain wrote about and tried to put his own spin on it, essentially trying to convince his readers about the kind of writer Twain was, instead of presenting his opinion as being his and only his. Bliss also quotes Abraham Lincoln, saying that Lincoln once said "Well, he looks like a man", in reference to Walt Whitman, and goes onto say that Lincoln would have said the very same thing about Twain. I felt that Bliss was taking away the real meaning of what Lincoln meant by his comment of Whitman by trying to assume that Lincoln would have made the same comment for both men.

Although I too enjoy reading the works of Mark Twain, many readers may not have the same opinion that Bliss does, but the way in which he presents his arguement and opinion shows that he took the original content and tried to make something else come out of it. I think that this is a good example of bibliographic coding because it shows how a writer chose to let his perception of another writer shine through his article, allowing no room for dispute or any other conception of it to occur. I guess he tried to open the eyes of others who are not familiar with the works of Twain, by allowing them to judge Twain the same that he has.

page 180 of the July 18th, 1907 issue

Literary Criticism in The New Age

Published by Tanya Palmer on July 9th, 2008 in Criticism, Essay, The New Age

Literary criticism in The New Age was apparently quite paradoxical, simultaneously bearing traces of predictability and spontaneity. In support of such a bold statement from non-experts on Modernist writing, this piece examines the “Book of the Week” and “Book Notes” sections in the first five editions of The New Age, Volume One and Issues 24-26 of Volume 30. With regards to the aforementioned predictability, examinations of the following reviews and notes demonstrate that as radical as their writers professed themselves to be, they maintained some consistency. After the first two book reviews, one almost comes to expect panegyrics or denunciations based on the book’s treatment of social conditions that the writers and their readership deemed key. Frequently, the reviews and notes place minor emphasis on the actual text and appear interested only in those aspects of the text that concern themselves with the general British welfare (from a Socialist perspective). Additionally, the aforementioned reviews in The New Age unfailingly elicit multi-vocal responses. Each piece could logically receive responses to the book reviewed; the reviewer; the author of the text; society in general; or even to the addressed social condition itself. Lastly, the book reviews and notes evidence a continual discourse between society and the literary art it produced (or that produced it, as some would undoubtedly argue). This last claim will be addressed as the articles are examined in detail

The “Book of the Week” column of Issue No.1 is clearly much more than a book review. In it, Holbrook Jackson includes lots of extraneous information that though ends up being relevant, evidences the need for readers of The New Age to be well versed in the literary and historical happenings of the time. Though the review gives a very precise synopsis of “The Playboy of the Western World,” it nonetheless teems with allusions to the social compositions of England and Ireland and ends didactically with regards to the betterment of the nations’ social conditions. In support of the notion that the magazine’s literary critiques maintained the discourse between early 20th century English art and society is the “Book Notes” column of Issue No.1 in its recommendation of Oscar Wilde’s “Souls of Man Under Socialism.” Here, social conditions determine the topics that the writers address and those same topics in effect go to determine what society read, wrote, and no doubt talked about.

Issue No.2’s “Book of the Week” column exemplified the spontaneity this paper earlier accused The New Age of possessing. Unlike the detailed synopsis given in Issue No.1, only five sentences directly address the book being reviewed: Ramsay McDonald’s Labour and the Empire. The remainder of the review, however, remains consistent with that of Issue No.1 in its excessive treatment of aspects of Imperialism and local British history and sociopolitical culture. The “Book Note” for Issue No.2 is also in keeping with its Issue No.1 counterpart in that it recommends texts either related to Socialism, “modern commerce,” or the Fabian Society, important facets of early 20th c. Britain. The “Book of the Week” column of Issue No. 3 is both similar to and different from the previous two in that it addresses social concerns whilst paying almost equal attention to Tolstoy’s The Russian Revolution. This review actively engages in dialogue with the text, presenting direct excerpts that allow the reader to clearly see the bases of the reviewer’s arguments. The “Book Note” for this issue does nothing unique save that it blends professional mention with character dissection in its recommendation of G.K. Chesterton. Rather than solely mentioning Chesterton’s authorial endeavors, the column seeks to present personal aspects of the man in encouragement of book sales on his behalf.

The “Book of the Week” columns for both Issues No. 4 and 5 go to further evidence the claim that such reviews served as platforms for more than just book discussions. Issue No. 4’s review is a tirade on the absence of and dire need for amiability in Socialism/between professed Socialists (it is not completely clear for which it argues). It alludes to the book, An Anthology of Friendship, only twice: to compliment the editor on his precision and to concur with his notion of the role of friendship. The “Book Notes” for the same Issue maintains the columnist’s noted habit of recognizing texts that primarily address issues of then contemporary concern, namely “the social system;” “the social and architectural features of the American metropolis;” and “social questions.” The “Book of the Week” article for Issue No.5, though it shows pertinence between the text, A History of Factory Legislation, and aspects of society such as “Royal Commissions, Cabinet Councils…factory legislation” and the like, is again used to intensely address social conditions. Indeed, the reviewer admits to recommending the book because it is “the story of a national drama.” The same Issue’s “Book Notes” is the only of the five examined that maintains an equilibrium between allusions to British society and recommendations of texts.

Volume 30 Issues 24-26 of The New Age possess clear similarities between those in the first volume. However, there exist marked differences. Although the authors of the drama and book reviews seem to similarly relish describing the bad performances and “worst books ever,” the articles stay on topic. Whereas the earlier issues maintain an informal, prescriptive dialogue with the reader, the last few editions reveal a more formal tone. Additionally, with respect to thematic appeal, Socialism as a panacea for the ills of early 20th c. England/Europe ceases to reign as a primary motivation for the literary criticism of The New Age. However, there are other differences in later issues that reveal both a growing awareness of who literary critics were, what their job was, and who exactly they were speaking to. Perhaps we can find roots of the field of modern day literary criticism in this magazine.

In Volume 30 Issue 22, Ezra Pound, in his essay “Credit and the Fine Arts,” reveals the artist stepping out of his boundaries to discusses how literature in general is perceived; the unfortunate truth that “the worst work usually brings the greatest financial reward” (p 4). However, as Pound bemoans the problems and difficulties in gaining prestige and being published as a writer, his article begins to bear remarkable resemblance to a modern day graduate student seeking a fellowship. Whereas earlier issues would have faulted society, Pound clearly directs his essay to those within his coterie. In discussing T.S. Elliot’s sojourn to banking, he writes: “rightly or wrongly, some of us consider Eliot’s employment in a bank the worst waste in contemporary literature” (p 4).

Although outside the realm of literary criticism, another column in this issue, “The Notebooks of T.E. Hulme,” commences with the claim that “the great difficulty of any talk of art lies in the extreme indefiniteness of the vocabulary you are obliged to employ.” There is a recognition here that academes are needed, a growing awareness of the task of the critic and his responsibility to whom he speaks. According to Hulme, the role of an art critic seemed more defined than the role of the literary critic. Perhaps another logical claim might be that The New Age, in melding art criticism side-by-side with reviews of drama and books, provided the forum for the development of the academic arena.

In Volume 30 Issue 23, an article entitled “Our Generation” discusses the “The National Institute of Industrial Psychology,” which is described as a sort of government inspection group for factories. The article begins by decrying the Institute’s mode of inspection, but presents a marked shift when the author suddenly starts discussing taste, literature, and how England lags behind because of the excitement and interest of the Industrial Revolution: “If England lost her lead in this industry, he predicted that her literature would soon be a second-class literature” (p 6). In referencing the need for regimented moderation of the Psychology industry, the article makes a dramatic turn and calls for similar strictures to be placed around the literary arts. It is not illogical to assume that such outcries and professional demands might have laid the foundation for the present-day notion of academic circles and faculties.

In the column “The Notebook’s of T.E. Hulmes,” there is a continuation of the desire to define standards by which art can be measured. In discussing Bergson’s essays, Hulme makes a clear distinction between the casual art appreciator and the professional art critic: “Both these things are of very little advantage as far as actual art criticism is concerned, but they are distinct advantages to anyone who wants to place art directly in relation to other human activities” (p 7). It seems that Hulme expects laymen to read his own article differently than critics. Whereas earlier articles did not seem to differentiate between their audiences, it is clear that there later arises a call for distinctions in The New Age readership. Additionally, in Volume 30 Issue 24, in a review of Nietzsche, Janko Lavrin doesn’t merely review Nietzsche, but seeks to explain it and uncover his sources and religious views. He quotes passages of Nietzsche to prove his point, and his tone is investigative rather than prescriptive, a clear distinction between the earlier and latter phases of the magazine.

Tanya Palmer and Rachel Borg

Music, Criticism and Cynicism in The New Age

Published by Miriam Wallach on July 9th, 2008 in Music, Criticism, Essay, The New Age

Charlene Nicholson, Cecilia Robles, Miriam L. Wallach

“I used to think there must be a kind of prearranged consensus among musical critics; that is to say, that with advertisements to consider, and the public always paying to be flattered, the ordinary newspaper critic had to be a consistent professional liar. It appears, however, that he has still considerable scope wherein to vent his genuine opinions, his little personal prejudices, his little spites, and his little enthusiasms, and that he may really lie as much as he likes, or flatter as much – within the “policy” of his paper.” – Herbert Hughes, “The Jury Disagreed”, The New Age, Volume 4, Number 26

The development of British music in Modern times was of great interest to a group of writers who consistently contributed to the New Age. Whether their contributions were through the regularly published “Music”, “Music and Musicians”and “Recent Music”columns or of articles that were used in the body of the journal, much of the writing was concerned with criticism of the composers, the audience, and the quality of the performed music, both in performance and quality of composition. The general tone of the writing concerning music during the time in which Orage was editor, from 1907 to 1922, was highly acerbic and critical.

In a cross-sampling of articles and reviews concerning music, a few common threads emerged. Many came from the writings of Herbert Hughes, who began under the pseudo name “X”. He was the primary contributor to music reviews and pieces of music criticism from 1907 through 1911, covering the first nine volumes of the periodical. His sentiments, however, were echoed in the contributions of other contributors as well. Hughes seemed to set the tone for music criticism in The New Age during the time that A.R. Orage was editor of the publication

One concern was the quality of music that was being produced by the British composers of the time. In an article entitled, “Nationality in British Music”, Hughes begins with a scathing overview of the British School of musical art which he feels is lacking in “divine fire” (N.A. 1:9, 134). He criticizes modern British composers, in which he includes those from Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, for having a lack of sentiment and personal expression. Hughes firmly believes that great art can never be impersonal and that this is the greatest flaw in the music of the United Kingdom.

The only composer that seems to escape his wrath is Edward Elgar, known for his composition of military marches. He feels that Elgar delves into his true self through his compositions, which Hughes considers to be nationalistic. He believes that the nationalism shown through Elgar’s music is the path that all British composers should be taking. This belief of the importance of nationality corresponds with the build up of this sentiment in Europe prior to World War I. Hughes’s goal for British composers is for them to create a controlled individualism so that they will be able to create a well-ordered and truly musical nationhood, which will “voice the best characteristics, the best traditions, the best thoughts, and the best feelings of the English race” (135).

Ironically, one of Hughes’s greatest complaints about British composers is their use of folk tunes in orchestration. He claims that this is a weakness, and indication of a composer’s inability to create original music. He finds the use of folk tunes highly offensive and not nationalistic. Hughes believes that “Nationality in art can only be attained when the utterance itself is the expression of a sincere individualism, regardless of idiom and obvious other characteristics.” (134). This perspective seems to belie the idea of nationality in that it encourages individuality rather than unification of the masses, which could be accomplished by pride for heritage through the use of folk tunes.

At some level, Hughes’s view of folk music as base, gives the impression of classism. This was another thread that seemed to appear in the music writing of The New Age during this time. In a contribution by Arthur Rickett entitled “Musicfor the People,” a dialogue between three gentlemen is created as a way to show that the appreciation of “great” music is beyond the means of the lower class. Through the dialogue, Ricketts creates a sense of elitism and the uselessness of trying to “educate” the masses on musical appreciation in that they are not capable of distinguishing between what is quality music and music that just has mass appeal. In the end, after the gentleman eavesdrop on the conversations of the serving and lower class, there is a sense of defeat, “Smith (looking self-satisfied): What did I tell you? Now, old chap, I know you’ll drop that educational bunkum., Dodson: At any rate, they knew what they ought to like” (158).

This criticism of the audience is one that is reflected in the weekly music columns such as “Recent Music” and “Music” that reviewed performances. Often, the critic is focused not just on the quality of the performance, but as to how the audience reacted to it. Often the audience’s reaction to a piece of music is qualified as “deafening” and “indiscriminate” (N.A. 9:20, 468). Overall, the reader gets the sense that most audiences, particularly those made up of the lower class, are void in the ability to appreciate music. It is up to the music critics to set the masses straight on the quality of music and the performance of said music.

These threads, or themes, carried through to other editions of The New Age. In Vol. 20, No. 8, Bernard Gilbert writes his own fictitious dialogue in “Where is Music?” in which two characters, William and Henry, bemoans the state of music in London. Henry, having recently moved to London from a rural area, is “disgusted” and “more than disappointed” in the music that he has found in the city. He takes great offense with the way in which people interact with and enjoy music – not as participants, but as spectators. While he was attending Glee Clubs and seeing the finest operas, Henry likens those who watch music taking place to “spectators who watch others play football, deceiving themselves all the while.” He mentions that the performers are the only “honest folk” and that “music is a personal matter – a thing to be done.”

The criticism that evolves here is not of the quality of the music, for Henry claims to have seen only the finest performances. It is the actual experience and the way in which high society interacts with this art that Gilbert finds most offensive. Through Henry, Gilbert applauds the intimate and one-on-one interaction the appreciator of music has with the art (like Henry and William seem to have done in their rural community) and is offended by those who treat it like a spectator sport. One cannot assume that because Henry and William come from rural areas that they are necessarily of a lower class. That would then cause a ‘splitting of the thread,’ so to speak, as it would seem that Gilbert is actually applauding the lower class for it’s personal and apparently appropriate relationship with music while criticizing the upper class, thus breaking the trend to criticize the lower class. Gilbert avoids that potential pothole by leaving Henry and William’s class status deliberately vague and merely stating their geographic backgrounds. Interestingly enough, however, the criticism of the classes in The New Age seems, therefore, to extend to the upper class as well, criticizing its members for their removed and distanced approach to what should be a hands-on and intimate experience with an art form.

Further research through issues of The New Age also shows a continuation of the harsh and often acerbic criticism of Modernist music in England during this era. Philip Heseltine’s article entitled “The Condition of Music in England”, in Vol. 21, no. 7, critically reviews the composers of his time, pulling no punches and mincing no words. Even the title of his article, using the word “condition” instead of ‘status’ or ‘situation’ implies some kind of malady or illness worthy of an update. Heseltine remarks that when considering the most influential composes of his time, all of who are renowned and whose music lives on today, their music is superficial and lacks depth. To produce music from the soul, past the materialistic aspects of the art, is beyond their ability. “As for the moderns,” he writes,” they seem, with very few exceptions, to be wandering in a mist, oblivious alike of their destination and of their purpose of journeying.” Their works are unguided, have no shape, lack depth and are even compared to an inferior bottle of scotch. Heseltine does, however, seem to provide a disclaimer for his article, ending with the idea that the era of Modern music in England is still very young and should only be considered in its adolescent stage of life. Nevertheless, his biting criticism of English music continues the thread that has already been sown.

Continuing with this notion of music being in a state of immaturity, William Atheling, in a piece entitled “Music The Avoidable” calls for a greater uniformity and structure to English music (N.A 23:19). A rubric or criterion of sorts needs to be created by which one can determine what is and is not good music and by which musicians can develop their art with greater skill and accuracy, alluding to music being in a state of growth and confusion, e.g., adolescence. Although it is a short article, Atheling’s frustration at the lack of quality music is readily apparent and continues the already established sentiment within the journal. In contrast, however, Atheling is able to specifically articulate where music and Modern composers are going wrong, hence the aggravation. If a problem can be identified and solutions are provided, one should seemingly be able to make the necessary corrections, perchance they are not made and mediocrity continues to be produced. As such, his frustration is understandable and even more so, is consistent with previous sentiments.

There is a decided thrust for a change in the way artists view one another whether they are from the same country or not. According to the critic writing as H. R., “Music cannot be limited by geography or “schools”. The standard of excellence in music cannot be static; music is a fluid art and does not possess “eternal verities” (29:14, p 165). Unlike Atheling, H.R seems to be saying that excellent music cannot be subjected to a specific rubric since an artist may create a piece of music which is great but doesn’t comply with the rubric. Music is always changing in form and style and its effect on people will never be the same. He points to the fact that composers during his time were improving on what others did before them and the wheel of change continues.

Not only are the artists being criticized but the audience also. H. Rotham states, “There are two sorts of concert audiences; the audience which goes to listen to a performer, qua performer, no matter what music he or she may offer; and the audience which goes to listen to music, and has opinions on what is worth listening to” (N.A 30:21, p276). Though well attended, the majority of the audience is there as spectators. They have no interest in the music as an art form but as a source of entertainment. Such an audience may lead the performer into a false sense of security and his chance of becoming great may not be realized. The audience with opinions is important for without their critique the performer will not get a critique which will help him sharpen his skills. Both audiences are necessary for one helps the artist to seek to continually improve his efforts and the other supports him with their money and praises.

The critics do not escape criticism either. They receive the same harsh criticism, which they like to give. William Atheling in his article “Le Mariage De Figaro” blames the critics for not doing their job well and as a result artists and musicians are out of work and the opera closed off early. He reminds us of the prevailing crisis at the time, the war, but he also refuses to place the blame for the artists and musicians plight on the war. He believes that if the critics were presenting the works of these people to the public and there was much dialogue between critics then the public would have been adequately informed and they would have given their support. At that time the public was supporting those involved in “basket-work, peasant- industry, and dilettante pottery”(N.A. 22:10, p114). Atheling sums up by saying, “This is rather a serious indictment of the London public and of the London musical critics. It means either that the critics are stupid and have not urged the audience, or else that they have ruined their credit with the public by a long period of weak criticism, and are no longer believed” (113). The job of the critics is significant and that’s why so many criticisms permeate the pages of The New Age.

Within the numerous journals, the sentiment and trends set in the first issue clearly resonate through others. Ironic, however, is that each piece, opinions and attitudes included, seems to be weakly supported by proofs or documentation, if they have any support at all. A venerable “soap box,” The New Age presented a forum through which writers and cultural authorities could expound upon and discuss numerous issues that prevailed in society. By bringing matters to the forefront and into discussion, the opportunity was established for grievances and ills regarding issues in culture, specifically as per this discussion in music, to be discussed in hopes of rectifying the situation and producing a better and more consistent art, one more befitting England. Whether the criticisms were heard and used constructively by the artists is not part of the scope of this research. However, within the fifteen years sampled within this study and the growing frustration which seemed to intensify through the issues, one can be certain that the critics voices were loud, but not necessarily heard.