The best short stories of 1922, and the yearbook of the American short story
General
The best short stories of 1922, and the yearbook of the American short story
American fiction -- 20th century; Short stories -- 20th century -- Bibliography; Short stories -- 20th century -- Indexes; Short stories, American
Index of Short Stories Published in American
Magazines 349
I. American Authors 352
II. English and Irish Authors 382
III. Translations 386
[1] The order in which the stories in this volume
are printed is not intended to indicate their
comparative excellence; the arrangement is
alphabetical by authors.
INTRODUCTION
INTRODUCTION
During the past year I have had occasion to think often and seriously
of disintegration in American literature as a force which can no
longer be ignored. There are times in the history of a people when
disintegration is a form of creation, and when the cry goes up on all
sides: “Écrasez l’Infame,” it is not generally recognized that this
cry is a passionate prayer. Such a cry is heard in all countries of
Europe today, though it is not yet general, and the question arises
whether it is historically the moment for that cry or prayer to be
uttered by American writers. Well, I do not think so at all, and yet
the cry is usually synchronous with disintegration.
I do not think so because the disintegration which I see in American
life and literature is the effect of weakness rather than of strong
relentless force. It takes two forms in the work of our story
writers. First of all, we have the disintegration of laziness and
spiritual compromise which is manifest in the commercial short
story’s surrender to the machine and to business. That is a present
fact which can never be sufficiently taken into account. It follows
the line of least resistance, and utters no cry of passionate
conviction.
The second form of disintegration is often thought to be more subtle,
but it is really equally obvious and weak. Those who manifest it are
sitting home quietly observing the spiritual disintegration of Europe
as a fascinating spectacle, and finding in it only æsthetic values
which they long to imitate. They do not see, or perhaps they do not
choose to see, that the pattern which they admire is the result of
a conflict which they have shirked, and that any attempt to copy it
without undergoing the experience which justifies it as expression
will result only in pastiche, and in bad pastiche at that. Joyce and
Lawrence and other Europeans are not accidents, but their American
imitators may prove to be serious accidents. Joyce, who will serve
very well to illustrate my point, is subduing the show of things to
the desires of the mind, because he is a possessive European male
who has suffered. Any one of many American writers whom I refrain
from naming perceives the patterned result of this suffering, but is
unable or unwilling to pay the price.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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