150
PARTISAN REVIEW
Paris. The more gifted painters of every nation tended to settle in
this centre, where only w.ere to be found the critical standards, and
the society and emulation of equals, without which an artist suffers.
Paris, being the centre of production, was naturally also the central
market for an international clientele: as the art itself became inter–
national, so did the public of the necessary means and taste. In
literature, the centers were naturally the capital cities of the most
important languages-most important, that is, both because of the
numbers of people to whom those languages were native, and the
economic and political importance of their nations. For the English–
speaking peoples, the centre has always been London, though during
the la'lt twenty-five years, New York has acquired a cultural autonomy
of its own-an independence not unconnected with the grow5ng
financial and economic power of the United States.
Up to a point, this centralization is. a healthy-development. When
the area from which the intellectual elements of the capital are gathered
is not too large, and when the capital is not of immoderate size, much
is gained, in stimulation of thought and of the arts, as in refinement
of manners, from the existence of such a center for superior society.
But in culture, as in industry, there should be a balance between
town and country. The parallel is not intended to be drawn closely:
for in the matter under discussion, what is desirable
is
an organic
relationship of culture between the capital, the country, and also the
provincial towns. When there is excessive concentration in the capital,
the effect on the provinces
is
obviously bad; but the effect on the
capital, and on its intellectual and appreciative society, is also bad,
as that society becomes more and more wholly urban-minded. The
tendency in England has been somewhat counteracted by the attach–
ment to the land for which the English are still distinguished, even
though that attachment
is
for most of the more prosperous middle
class townsfolk represented only by the vestigial symbol of the week–
end cottage: in America, where the upper strata of modern society
are mostly of urban origin, the divorce between culture and agricul–
ture is more evident-the farmer has been presented, for several
generations, as a comic and unknown character. But the prospect for
the future is equally sombre for all of the more advaNced peoples.
The balance between town and country, between agriculture and in–
dustry, may be restored by careful planning; something may be done
to check, if not to diminish, the growing size of each metropolis: but
it is likely enough that by that time "culture" will have become so
discredited, and the groups in power so impervious to all that it com–
prehends, that it will find no cranny in which to sprout. Such might
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