HAWTHORNE
337
and admiration. The fonner, the "popular" or middlebrow work
consciously refers itself to the public and is shaped by its response to
public prejudices and desires. The latter, the work of genius or dis–
interested talent, refers itself only to the inner life of its creator and is
to be judged only by the truth of its representation of that innerness.
Our commitment to this criterion constitutes, as M. H. Abrams tells
us, the basis of our modern esthetic. In his admirable
The Mirror
and the Lamp,
after describing the "mimetic" theories of art of
classical antiquity and the "pragmatic" theories of the Renaissance
and the 18th century, Professor Abrams goes on to speak of the
"expressive" theories of our own time: "The first test any poem must
pass is no longer, 'Is it true to nature?' or 'Is it appropriate to the
requirements either of the best judges or the generality of mankind?'
but a criterion looking in a different direction; namely, 'Is it sincere?
Is it genuine? Does it match the intention, the feeling, and the actual
state of mind 'of the poet while composing?' The work ceases then to
be regarded as primarily a reflection of nature . . . the mirror held
up to nature becomes transparent and yields the recorded insights
into the mind and heart of the poet himself." This is in large part
true, yet an accurate account of this first criterion of modern judgment
must not lead us to believe that our response stops with our testing
the congruity between the created work and its maker's inner life at
the time of its creation. We must be aware that, once we have made
our way into the artist's inner life in order to decide whether or not the
created work is congruent with it, the artist's inner life ceases in some
degree to be inner. It is on public view, available to general scrutiny
and judgment.
The artist, of course, makes no objection to his innerness being
thus publicized.
If
we consider the situation of the arts in general in
Paris between 1885 and 1914, which is the definitive period of the
modern epoch, we can say that it was characterized by the passionate
devotion of the artists to their inner lives, to their personal and peculiar
visions. But in all the history of art was there ever a movement which
was so conscious of a public, even though in its deficiencies rather
than in its legitimate expectations, and so determined to impose itself
upon the public? The artist himself often led the enterprise of making
his work prevail, but this was not necessary-when once its sincerity
and genuineness were agreed upon by a faithful few, there gathered
