This Side of Paradise

deep in

ires, restra

lifeward w

es out the

uest of cre

sertive d

monotony

avenues

I rise aga

e heat of th

w morning

towers, l

mirage in

not a drea

monotony

avenues

ht suddenly outlined a window over the way; then another light; then a hundred more danced and glimmered into vision. Under his feet a thick, iron-studded skylight turned yellow; in the street the lam

pping sound, followed by the heavy roaring of a rising crowd a

people whose eyes as they emerged glanced invariably, first at the wet street, then at the rain-filled air, finally at the dismal sky; last a dense, strolling mass that depressed him with its heavy odor compounded of the tobacco smell o

at-collars; a great swarm of tired, magpie girls from a department-store crowded along with shrieks of strident la

thrusting themselves at one, leering out like dull bores who grab your arm with another story; the querulous worry as to whether some one isn't leaning on you; a man deciding not to give his seat to a woman, hating

, unnamable spaces in back of the buildings; where even love dressed as seduction-a sordid murder around the corner, illicit motherhood in the flat above. And always there was the economical stuffiness of indoor winter, and th

ff at having men see them tired and poor-it was some disgust that men had for women who were tired and poor. It was dirtier than any battle-field he had seen, harder

n a great funeral wreath of fresh flowers, how the smell of it had su

entially cleaner to be corrupt and rich than it is to be innocent and poor." He seemed to see again a figure whose significance had once impressed him-a well-dressed young man gazin

only coarseness, physical filth, and stupidity. He made no self-accusations: never any more did he reproach himself for feelings that were natural and sincere. He accepted all his reactions as a part of him

he climbed to the roof, where he rode in solitary state through the thin, persistent rain, stung into alertness by the cool moisture perpetually reborn on his cheek. Somew

ll-what's th

about twenty-four

the Lake G

intend to

n you

books and I've found that I can always do the things that p

defi

osity. To-morrow I'm going to leave New York for

want a lot

erely afraid

ry af

passivel

are you

n't a

't you

't want to commi

u no inter

gives off heat, so all through youth and adolescence we give

nterest

e gives off. Sarah makes an unsophisticated remark and the faces simper in delight-"How innocent the poor child is!" They're warmin

our calo

inning to warm myself a

you c

e. I'm not sure about good

a bad sig

neces

be the test

ig plate of candy. Sentimentalists think they want to be in the pure, simple state they were in before they ate the candy. They don't. They just want the fun of eating it a

are you

st familiar state-a grotesque blending of desires,

h Street? That must have been One Hundred and Twelfth back there. One O Two instead of One Two Seven. Rosalind not like Beatrice, Eleanor like Beatrice, only wilder and brainier. Apartments along here expensive-probably hundred and fifty a month-maybe two hundred. Uncle had only paid hundred a month for whole great big house in Minneapolis. Question-were the stairs on the left or right as you came in? Anyway, in 12 Univee they were straight back and to the left. What a dirty river-want to go down there and see if it's dirty-French rivers all brown or black, so were Southern rivers. Twenty-four dollars meant four hundred an

inding, descending sidewalk and came out facing the river, in particular a long pier and a partitioned litter of shipyards for miniature craft: small launches, canoes, rowboats, and catboats. He turned northward and followed the shore, jumped a small wire fence

," sai

a p

this p

on River Sporting

t know. I'm

gan the ma

if you wa

d on. Amory seated himself on an overturned boat and lean

to make me a damn ba

DROOPIN

often when he raged at himself as an egotist something would whisper ingratiatingly: "No. Genius!" That was one manifestation of fear, that voice which whispered that he could not be both great and good, that genius was the exact combination of those inexplicable grooves and twists in his mind, that any discipline would curb it to mediocrity. Probably more than any concrete vice or failing Amory despised his own personality-he loathed knowing that to-morrow and the thousand days af

use across the street and lend a tiny whimper to the still night. Quick as a flash he turned away, wondering with a touch of panic whether something in the brooding despair of his mood had made a darkness in its tiny soul. He shivered. What if

smiled

up in yourself," he heard

nd do some

worr

sible future com

uth, but I soon found it made me mo

ic fingers closed on a cigarette while he listened to guitars strumming melancholy undertones to an age-old dirge of Castile and an olive-skinned, carmine-lipped girl caressed his hair. Here he might live a strange litany, delivered from right and wrong and from the ho

le, the South Seas-all lands of sad, haunting music and many odors, where lust could be a mode and expression of life,

L WE

he man with the queer feet in Phoebe's room had diminished to the aura over Jill. His instinct perc

had defied life from mountain tops were in the end but flaneurs and poseurs, at best mistaking the shadow of courage for the substance of wisdom. The pageantry of his disillusion took shape in a world-old procession of Prophets, Athenians, Martyrs, Saints, Scientists, Don Juans, Jesuits, Puritans, Fausts, Poets, Pacifists; like costumed alumni at a college reunion they streamed before him as their dreams, personali

iculate, he had thought to perpetuate in terms of experience-had become merely consecrations to their own posterity. Isabelle, Clara, Rosalind, Eleanor, were al

nclusions which, although they might occasionally cause the deaths of several millions of young men, might be explained away-supposing that after all Bernard Shaw and Bernhardi, Bonar Law and Bethmann-Hollweg were mutual heirs of

life, a man who had verified and believed the code he lived by, an educator of educators, an adviser t

d even disbelief in terms of its own faith: if you doubted the devil it was the devil that made you doubt him. Amory had seen Monsi

somewhat purer, had been, Amory k

great labyrinth. He was where Goethe was when he began "Fau

den orthodoxy, who would accept for themselves only what could be accepted for all men-incurable romanticists who never, for all their efforts, could enter the labyrinth as stark souls; there were on the other hand sword-like pioneering p

mind. Yet all thought usually reached the public after thirty years in some such form: Benson and Chesterton had popularized Huysmans and Newman; Shaw had sugar-co

y one off-side and the referee gotten rid of-every on

back, shouting that they had found it... the invisible king-the elan vital-the

est example-sitting in the rain, a human creature of sex and pride, foiled by chance and his own temperame

ss and disillusion he came to

g the street, its lamps still shining like burning eyes in a face white

SIG

ors, the papal delegate, and a host of friends and priests were there-yet the inexorable shears had cut through all these threads that Monsignor had gathered into his hands. To Amory it was a haunting grief to see him lying in his coffin, with closed hands upon h

, sprinkled the holy water; the organ broke into

n his voice or a certain break in his walk," as Wells put it. These people had leaned on Monsignor's faith, his way of finding cheer,

s to enter the labyrinth with him. He found something that he wanted, had always wanted and always would want-not to be admired, as he had feared; not t

ly and permanently rejected an old epigram that had been playing listles

an immense desire to give

MAN WITH

day of dreams and far hopes and clear visions. It was a day easily associated with those abstract truths and purities that dissolve in the sunshine or fade out in mocking laughter by the

as he that he was scarcely surprised at that strange phenomenon-cordiality manifested within fifty miles of Manhattan-when a passing car slowed down beside him and a voice hailed him. He looked

growth, glancing from the corner of his eye at the imp

t I do.

thing around him. That part of his face which protruded under the goggles was what is generally termed "strong"; rolls of not undignified fat had collected near his chin; somewhere above was a wide thin mouth and the rough model for a Roman nose, and, below, his shoulders c

was of that lower secretarial type who at forty have engraved upon their business cards: "Assistan

smaller man in a plea

a str

for ex

inctly, "I'm walking becau

O

n a

estily. "All this talk of lack of work. The West is especially short of labor."

you a

y had n

rk,

was not

mory had said, "now is the time of opportunity and business openings." He glanced agai

ething and for the life of him cou

want a great

ghed mirthlessly b

nts nowadays, but they do

e rich without great effort-except the financiers in problem plays,

said the secret

"being very poor at present I am contem

anced at hi

man ceased as words lurched pond

r I'd run you over to the Newark jai

y la

of these idealists? I must say I fail to see the difference. The ideal

g an idealist is both safe a

difficulty? L

, but-well,

t wa

for an adver

oney in ad

iled dis

advertisements, hash out rag-time for your theatres. By the great commercializing of printing you've found a harmless, polite occupation for every genius who might ha

nded the little

's an intellectual personage n

us laugh, and stopped rather suddenly

you laug

tellectua

now what

n's eyes twit

usually

." Amory decided to be very rude. He turned to the big man. "The young man," he indicated the secretary with his thumb, and

al controls printing?" said the bi

o me that the root of all the business I saw around me consisted i

man is certainly highly paid-five and six hour days-it's ridiculous.

sted Amory. "You people never make conc

t pe

tly; those who by inheritance or industry or bra

ender over there had the money he'd

's that got t

r man co

sn't. It rather sound

re narrower, less pleasant and personally more selfish-certainl

y what is th

e to consider exactly

COINS

ial conditions are concerned. He may be unselfish, kind-hearted, even just in his own way, but his first job is to provide and to hold fast. His wife shoos him on, from ten th

cided that it wasn'

that pleased them; maybe they started on the treadmill as I did and were knocked off. Anyway, they're the congressmen you can't bribe, the Presi

natural

er, for unfortunately the spiritually married man, as a by-product of his money chase, has garnered in the great newspaper, the popular magazine, the influential wee

y n

se, a man who has money under one set of social institutions quite naturally can't ri

ears," said

ited mediums. Rotten c

ight-g

midity, its weakness, and its strength for its own ends. Opposed is the man who, being spiritually unmarried, continually seeks for new systems that will control or counteract human nature

ed them on his huge palm. The little man took one,

ig man. "I've been wanting

G FA

ified more closely with other civilizations, economic interdependence, racial questions, and-we're dawdling along. My idea is that we've got to go very much faster." He s

heritage. If the father can't give him a good physique, if the mother has spent in chasing men the years in which she should have been preparing herself to educate her children, so much

n, his goggles indicating ne

rial of government owne

en proven

nment working for something besides themselves. We'd have Mackays instead of Burlesons; we'd have Morgans in t

their best efforts f

isn't the only stimulus that brings out t

while ago

more than a certain amount the best men would all flock

a sound that wa

lliest thing y

en struck by the fact that the men there would work twice as hard for any one of

play!" scoffed

ot an axiom. We've done that for so long that we've forgotten there's any other way. We've made a world where that's necessary. Let me tell you"-Amory became emphatic-"if there were ten men insured against either wealth or starvation, and offered a green ribbon for five hours' work a day and a blue ribbon for

agree w

matter any more though. I think these people are

came from th

ine-g

ve taught the

an shook

nough property owners not to

f property owners and non-property ow

ig man wa

ing things away,' you'

promises. Socialism may not be progress, but the threat of the red flag is certain

ple of a beneficent

wing just as the French Revolution did, but I've no doubt

believe in

h is that the public has done one of those startling and amazing thing

t is

ities of men may differ, their st

TLE MAN

ld," said the little man with much pr

ying no attention to the little man's enr

gan; but the big man inter

. Anyway, I don't agree with one-half you've said. Government ownership is the basis of your whole ar

up with a determined nod, as if re

he asserted with an owl-like look, "which always ha

he small man to the

eld in check by civilization. What this man here just said has been for thousands of years the last refuge of the associated mutton-heads of the world. It negates the efforts of every scientist, statesman, moralist, reformer, doctor, and phi

t, his face purple with rage. Amory contin

eople.' They always believe that 'things are in a bad way now,' but they 'haven't any faith in these idealists.' One minute they call Wilson 'just a dreamer, not practical'-a year later they rail at him for making his dreams realities. They haven't clear logical ideas on one single subject ex

in on his face leaned over

pretty heavy, Garv

as if the whole matter were so ridiculous as t

ly, and logically, freed of his habit of taking refuge in platitudes and prejudices and sentimentalisms, then I'm a mil

d amused," said the big

porary experience. I possess the most valuable experience, the experience of the

alk gl

is restless. I'm sick of a system where the richest man gets the most beautiful girl if he wants her, where the artist without an income has to sell his talents to a butt

you're

n too many outworn systems. I was probably one of the two dozen men in my class at college who got a decent education; still they'd let any well-tutored flathead play football and I w

ng crying that we

of civilization unless it's made to. A laissez-faire policy is like spoiling

eve all this Social

I hadn't thought seriously about it.

say Bernard Shaw, in spite of his doctrines, is the most exacti

my heart, I thought we were all blind atoms in a world as limited as a stroke of a pendulum, I and my sort would struggle against tradition; try, at least, to displace old cants wi

er spoke and then

your uni

ncet

nterested; the expression of

y son to

d y

me was Jesse Ferrenby. He was

In fact, he was one of

a fine boy. We w

had been all along a sense of familiarity. Jesse Ferrenby, the man who in college had borne off the crown

o a great estate, ringed around by

come in f

hook hi

Ferrenby, but I'

more than outweighed any disfavor he had created by his opinions. What ghosts

urned the corner and started up the drive. "G

cried Amory, smiling

IRE, OUT OF T

nted by skies and waters and far horizons was more likable. Frost and the promise of winter thrilled him now, made him think of a wild battle between St. Regis and Groton, ages ago, seven years ago-and of an autumn day in France twelve months before when he had lain in tall grass, his platoon flattened down close a

fish," he

ange when I 'see human suffering' o

t only part of me. It i

an by avoiding that selfishness that I c

ve to a friend, endure for a friend, lay down my life for a friend-all because these things may

il was beauty-beauty, still a constant rising tumult; soft in Eleanor's voice, in an old song at night, rioting deliriously through life like superimposed waterfalls, half rhythm, half darkness

ul, weak things were never good. And in this new loneness of his that had been selected for what gr

on had been made complete. He felt that he was leaving behind him his chance of being

t the Church of Rome. Quite conceivably it was an empty ritual but it was seemingly the only assimilative, traditionary bulwark against the decay of morals. Until the great mobs could be educated into a moral sense some one must cr

ht he came to a graveyard. There was a dusky, dreamy smell of flowers and the ghost of a new moon in the sky and shadows everywhere. On an impulse he considered trying to open the door of a rusty ir

feel "William

e fancied that in a hundred years he would like having young people speculate as to whether his eyes were brown or blue, and he hoped quite passionately that his grave would have about it an air of m

chosen youth from the muddled, unchastened world, still fed romantically on the mistakes and half-forgotten dreams of dead statesmen and poets. Here was a new generation, shouting the old cries, learning the old creeds, through a revery of long days and nigh

tever his medium should be, he knew he was safe now, free from all hysteria-he coul

e regret for his lost youth-yet the waters of disillusion had left a deposit on his soul, responsibility an

substitute at bes

, why he had determined to use to the utmost himself a

s arms to the cryst

" he cried, "bu

ction notes for

ashes which are missing from edition 10. (My favorite in

resented in edition 10. Edition 10 had some end-of-paragra

f differences between the volumes. Evidence suggests that the 1960 reprint has been somewhat "modernized", and that the undated reprint i

e used to denote words and ph

eginning with "When Vanity kissed Vanity," which i

ion 11, in large part because the bulk of the 8-bit usage (as found in

debut debutante ela

paean regime so

8-bit word forms in

r manoeuvered medi

name "