The Daily Worker Newspaper, November 27, 1926, Page 8

Marching Men -- A Review Baveral. centuries ago, in the time of Shakespeare end Bacon, authors lived upon their patrons. The sys- tem of patronage was a European institution. There were few other ways whereby an author could earn a living. John Wolfe offered the opportunity of translation, an experience in hack-work, to a limited number of the craft. Ballad-scribbling presented_a@ simple medium for literary prostitution. University fellowships demanded too many qualifications and were encumbered with too many entailments to be 4 @n important. source of assistance to any but the desicated scholar. Samuel Daniel and William Browne supported themselves by private tutoring; Cadman, Ocland and Shirley were regular teachers. The life of the author in general, however, was dis- mal, insufferable, hopeless without the aid of a pa- tron. : The practice of a patronage, deeply rooted in the economic basis of feudal society, injured poet and dramatist. Monastic patronage has disappeared with the predatory English reformation, and it was to the feudal lord that the artist had to appeal. The Earl of Southampton, for instance, was Shakespeare’s pa- tron; Liecester, not with untained purity, was Spencer’s; Herbert was Daniel’s. It was the eco- nomic element involvéd in the relationship of the author to his patron that bred danger. Spontaneity was often transformed into sycophancy, and servil- oaty, became a literary virtue. The author too often ~fooked to his superiors for favor and commendation, This tendency speedily became a habit, Even so ‘acute a mind as that of Francis Bacon solicited the king for “a theme for treatment” in this fashion: “I should with more alacrity embrace your Majesty’s direction than my own choice.” Stultifying as Bacon’s solicitation was, it is sur- passed by that of Mathesen, a composer, who in his dedication to Landgraf Ernst Ludwig of Hessen declared: “If god did not exist, who could more fittingly take His place than Your Supreme Highness.” What a contrast is to be discovered today, then, in Sherwood Anderson's dedication of his second novel to “American Workingmen.” The wide gulf of years that separated the two _fedications is disclosed in their antithetical senti- ments. The literature of the one age scorned the proletariat, the literature of the other age has begun to exait ft. ‘ Marching Men is a romantic, proletarian novel. It is one of the few novels in American literature that is devoted to the toiler. While it may not visualize the class struggle as a historical process determined by social conflict and economic destiny, it does project the cause of the worker as an issue revolutionary and significant. There is, it is true, & noticeable sentimentality of description in the advance of the protagonist, Beaut McGregor, from the position of menial to that of master, The sense of social awareness that he develops, however, coun- terbalances something of this sentimentality. Beaut McCregor is harrassed by the unsightly chaos of human thought and activity, the wild clash of in- dividual impulse and purpose. He is obssessed with a desire for orderliness, for design amid confusion, This craving becomes a mania, demanding active not contemplative expression. Sheer intellectual specula- ENE Me. PHAGR HOE SRN ET In the Wake of the News (Continued from page 1) fly at Benito’s nose. After the revolver spoke, Mussolini could afford to remain calm. His hand- kerchief was able to undo the damage which con- sisted of a smudge. The latest “attempt” on his life was also framed by the police. The incident eost a youth his life and hundreds of people were murdered by the fascisti in a mad orgy of revenge. How long will the Italian people have to suffer under this mad tool of imperialism? Perhaps he will be mad enough to tackle Mustapha Kemal Pasha in order to provide a thrill for his brigands. And what can we think of our democratic bankers whose money has kept this murderer in power? ith Dl a ee Ww" are minus a queen and we are not sorry. Our big butter and egg men can go back to their counters, our packers can return to their swine and our gold coast poodle-dogs can dry their tears for their dear ones will be able to give them more at- tention, at least until the next queen hoves in sight. Marie is leaving in tears. One of ler song is pbastardizing Europe and half a dozen concubines are on his trail. Tho a famous English monarch once said that “a king’s bastard is a house’s pride” modern royalty has to be more careful and the con- duct of Marie’s brood has clapped a gas mask on more than one royal snout. Her boy Carol is re- ported returning to Roumania and divers other tion, dreamful theorizing in historical abstraction, afe an abomination to one of his temperament. He is in vital revolt against the cabinet retreat of the student and philosopher, His life is a ery for vigorous organized force, perpetually in motion, ceaselessly advancing, defiant and invincible. As a symphony of impulse, @ drama of the grandiose, Marching Men is a moving and pie turesque novel; as a piece of realism, which it pur Sherwood Anderson. ports to be, it fails of solidity and conviction. We marvel at the eloquent McGregor heading his count- less ranks of marching men. He is imperious and inexonerable, inspired with the faith of a fanatic in the efficacy of his ideal. In our enthusiasm, for a moment, we almost come to believe in him, to ac- cept the situation as a reality of the esthetic. Re- moved from the immediacy of the object, however, . our emotions more tranquillized, we are forced to . change our judgment. He is another giant, an apotheosis of an ideal rather than the crystalliza- tion of an idea, a personification of a movement, not an individuality. His achievements are illogical— melodramatic. They belong to another civilization than ours, a civilization constructed upon a different ethic. Men could not have been made to march in the fashion of McGregor’s squads if they were employed and lived at the time and under the social conditions in which they were placed. There is something exceedingly romantic about the drilling and chanting of the proletarian groups, marching unarmed in endless procession in town and city over all the country. “And then the movement of the Marching Men began to come to the surface. It got into the blood of men. That harsh drumming voice began to shake their hearts and legs. “Everywhere men began to see and hear ef the Marchers. From lip to lip ran the question, *‘What’s going on?’ “What's going on?” How that cry ran over Chicago. Every newspaper man in town got assignments on the story. The papers were loaded with it every day. All over the city they appeared, everywhere—the Marching a, ot “Of course, the police tried to stop the marchers. Into a street they would run crying ‘Disperse!’ The men id disperse only to appear again On some vacant lot working away at the perfection of the marching. Only an excited squad of police captured a company of them. burglars are making the royal seat uncomfortable for Marie. The queen is hurrying home, perhaps to exchange a tack for the cushioned seats of American 2 we ee fy queen came to the United States to get money. Whether she got it or not remains to be seen. Some say her technique was good, but the heroine of Cotzofanesti could not be good, even for a little while. She surroundéd herself with a bunch of By V. L. Calverton The same men were back in line the next eve- ° ning. The police could not arrest a hundred thousand men because they marched shoulder to shoulder along the streets and chanted a weird march song as they went.” To anyone the least acquainted with our social system such description is palpably absurd. Our recent experience has proved that Without chance of doubt. If the police could not arrest these chanting hordes, and the very sentence implies that such was (and had to be) the wish and objeet of the upper class, the militia would have been sum- moned to couclude the demonstrations. A dozen pretexts could have been invented. Agent provoca- teurs could have been employed, as may have beem the case in the Haymarket riot of '86, if not other means could have been devised. Further, the dis alliance of the movement with any political or eco nomic policy or any method of definite reform taxes our credulity beyond endurance. Men do not march for the rhythm of marching, nor involve themselves in movements without knowledge of their purpose and finality—nor without promise of reward! “We do not think and banter words. We march” These two verses of their song express their movement, There is no clean, steady plan that directs their enthusiasm, no orderliness of design, except the orderliness of marching.» “We will not talk or listen to talk—but march .... on and om forever.” This is romantic psychology and sociol- ogy—it is not fidelity to reality. David Ormsby, “the quiet efficient representative of wealth,” is an exaggerated type of antithesis. His psychology, an embodiment of the attitude of the capitalist, is softened by a strange and grasping affection for his daughter Margaret, who, despite her vacillation of sentiment, is in love with Me- Gregor. His opposition to McGregor, anemic and pulseless. His opposition to McGregor, pallid and feeble though it is, is easily comprehensible, but his attempt to discourage his daughter’s admiration for the leader of the Marching Men and convert her to his philosophy, his platitudinizing explana tions and defense, are the actions of a puppet, done without vigor or vitality, He is another giant, less winning and magnetic, however, than the stalwart, flaming McGregor, Nevertheless, with all of its inconsistencies of character and situation, Marching Men possesses unique significance in American literature. It is radiantly and romantically symbolic of the rise of the proletariat. The tragic cry of the working mag finds passionate echo in the voice ef McGregor. “I am going to fight the comfortable well-to- do acceptance of a disorderly world, the smug men who see nothing wrong in a world like this. “I would like. to fight them so that they throw their cigars away and run about like ants when ‘you kick over ant-hills in the fields.” The effect of the organization of the proletariat, @ result of industrial limitation and oppression, ob- tains vivid and unmistakable reflection in this eurious novel. The decay of an old and the synthesis of a new civilization are implicit in the substance of the narrative. a ee drunken bums that could not keep from brawling. It was a common sight to see a hat, expelled from the royal train, only to be followed by a pair of pajamas and a millionaire. The masses liked this, It was more entertaining than the romance of Mr. Edward Browning and his baby bride. But tho bankers like their fun in its native state they favor dignity in public, The money they loan comes out of the pockets of depositors and out of the hides of the workers. That’s where it all comes from. If there is anything a small depositor likes better than his life it is his money. So it might not look well for our bankers to supply a bawdy queen with enough money for a five years’ debauch while hiun- dreds of thousands of American children are going hungry. | oe ..8 =e our ruling classes care little for public opin- ion, since it means little unless organized. What is usually called “public opinion” 4s about as influ. ential as a hog-tied flea. Were the American work. ers, class-conscious and organized industrially and politically, not only would they be in a position te — prevent this parasite queen from entering New York harbor but there would be no bankers left to lick her boots. Ag it is, only’ the Communists and those closes! in sympithy with their program protested the queen's visit, therefore the royal harlot was able ‘o defend the tyrannous rule of the Roumaniag hoyars and spread considerable poisonous propa ganda agaiust Soviet Russia,