(_General Cadorna wrote to the Queen: ‘If you want to see Trieste, buy a
picture postcard.’ Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!_)
The music fitted the words outrageously, and the mocking insolence of
those six ‘Ah’s,’ each accented, at the end of every stanza, was
ineffable (_do, mi, re; si, re, do_). They were so utterly final--a
funeral march for rhetoric.
For obvious reasons there was all too little of this spirit awake during
the war; now, since the war, it blows freely through the air and is one
of the healthiest results of disillusionment. It makes men read their
newspapers sceptically and glance back to see where a dispatch came from
before accepting it as truth; it causes them to look with an ironic eye
on politicians, governments, philanthropists, institutions of learning,
and all other institutions, on everything and every one professionally
noble; it supplies readers for such irreverent publications as the
_American Mercury_, and makes satirical novels, like _Babbitt_, actually
popular. It reveals the grosser forms of credulity as precisely that.
Held to be something dreadful, the Ku Klux Klan would wax in strength,
but people find it ridiculous; it is doomed. Even before the ‘Protocols’
were exposed as forgeries an amazingly large number of people were
unable to swallow them; they were too silly. The _Saturday Evening
Post_, the _Red Book_ and the others go on their tawdrily romantic way,
but I doubt extremely that the millions who read the stories they
contain accept these as anything save sheer senseless relaxation, since
the same millions read and take to their hearts the comic strips--_Mr.
and Mrs._, _The Gumps_, etc.--which are so sordid, so blowzy, so
disillusioned, in both drawing and captions, as to make _Babbitt_ appear
by comparison a lilting romance and Mr. H. L. Mencken a blood-brother of
Mr. Harold Bell Wright. In short, though it is still possible to ‘get
away with’ a good deal of nonsense, it is not possible, even in America,
the most sentimental nation under the sun, to ‘get away with’ anywhere
near as much as once upon a time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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