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