The last two decades have been rich in stories that need only
a set of notes to reveal their approximate faithfulness to things
that actually happened. But there is an emphasis upon revolt and
disillusion and confusion in these latest novels that is new. They
are no longer on the defensive, no longer stories of boys
struggling to adapt themselves to a difficult world (men of forty-
odd still write such stories); their authors are on the offensive,
and with a reckless desire to accomplish their objectives, they
shower us with such a profusion of detail, desert the paths of use
and wont in fiction so freely, and so often disregard the comfort,
not to speak of the niceties, of the reader, that "the young
realists" has seemed a fair, although, as I think, a misleading
title, for their authors. To a critic they are most interesting,
for the novel of the alleged young realist is like a fresh country
boy on a football field, powerful, promising, and utterly wasteful
of its strength.
Recent American literature has been especially rich in such
novels. There was, for example, Fitzgerald's ragged, but
brilliant, "This Side of Paradise," which conducted aimless and
expansive youth from childhood through college.
Pages:
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186