VARIETY
119
crease of
$10,000,000
in pur–
chases (/rpm
$30,000,000
to
$40,000,000)
in view of both
the equities and the practical–
ities of this situation; that in my
opinion it was not an evidence
of approaching the matter in a
broadminded and appreciative
attitude of the position which
Secretary Hull had taken so
fairly and in such a large–
minded way on this particular
problem.
The style here, of course, is re–
markable as Mr. Davies' style al–
ways is. The superfluous
that
is
good. The
broad-minded
and
large–
minded
are like the flourish of per–
suasive hands brushing doubts and
inhibitions aside; and in the next
sentence but one we already see
the spell that is cast by the verbal
incantation, taking effect on the
Soviet department head:
Mr. Neymann manifested a
very fair-minded attitude in
reply and stated in conclusion
that he would not be disposed
t~
quarrel with that point of
vzew
..•
But there glints through in this
passage, when the figures are
named, the relentless
for!iter in
rebus
which-to resort to a kind
of ornament much relished by Mr.
Davies-always lurks behind the
sauviter in modo.
Mr. Davies is of
Welsh blood, he tells us, and, like
a Welshman, he knows how to
combine an elevated and shimmer–
ing eloquence with a certain
subtlety of practical shrewdness.
The glint is half lost in the mist;
the purpose is half obscured by the
~shower
of flattering words that,
meaningless though most of them
are, rather soothe us and please us
as we read. These words may per–
haps have made it easier for Mr.
Davies, at the time of his embassy,
to further the interests of the
United States; but there are mo–
ments when th(( steely gleam that
pierces from time to time the shift–
ing lights of Mr. Davies' language,
has the look of an eye fixed intent–
ly on opportunities for conspicuous
self-dramatization.
EDMUND WILSON
Portrait of the Artist
As a Middle Aged Man
When the "literary situation"
has to be discussed, it must surely
be pretty far gone. The truth is
that in the last years those who
have not allowed themselves to
became complacent have taken to
complaining about it, but rarely
has the subject been aired in
print; and Malcolm Cowley's
recent piece in
The New Republic
on "American Literature in War–
time" is one of the very few com–
ments on the low state of writing
today. Cowley points to such
ty–
pical signs of deterioration as the
enormous output - and prestige
- of potboilers, and the dearth
of any writing-or political think–
ing-that bares the more crucial
experiences of the time. He attri–
butes this decline of the creative
spirit to the frustrations of the
liberal mind and the eventual loss
of its political faith as it became
disillusioned through the Moscow
Trials, the Spanish defeat, Mun–
ich, and the Stalin-Hitler Pact.
And having been deprived of the
enthusiasms of some enveloping
