Joseph Hergesheimer, an essay in interpretation

In Short

This essay serves as a critical interpretation of the work and creative philosophy of Joseph Hergesheimer, a significant American novelist of the early 20th century. By analyzing his novels, the text posits that Hergesheimer’s writing is fundamentally shaped by fourteen years of early rejection and a singular, lifelong dedication to the "gesture toward the stars." The work examines the tension between artistic integrity and the demands of a popular audience, ultimately framing Hergesheimer’s career as a quest for an unembodiable beauty that transcends the mundanity of everyday life.

The Story

The narrative of this interpretation begins with a fable of persistence. The subject, Joseph Hergesheimer, spent fourteen years as a writer whose work was consistently rejected by magazine editors. The author argues that this period of "unavailability" is not merely a biographical footnote, but the crucible that forged the author’s primary themes. Because Hergesheimer spent over a decade writing in a vacuum, his characters emerged as men driven by single-minded, often destructive, goals. These figures are not the typical, practical people who drift through life; they are "hag-ridden" by desires that leave them isolated from the normal social order.

The essay traces this pattern of obsession across the novelist’s bibliography. Whether it is the pursuit of chastity in The Lay Anthony, the quest for atonement in Mountain Blood, or the doomed, scorching passions in The Three Black Pennys, the trajectory remains the same: a high-hearted, futile reaching toward an unattainable goal. The "plot" of a Hergesheimer book is a reflection of the "plot" of his own formative years, characterized by a refusal to compromise for popularity, yet ending in a sobering encounter with the "postman"—an arrival of Age or Death that signals the end of the quest.

The arc of the interpretation reaches its emotional and intellectual peak with the discussion of Linda Condon. Here, the author identifies a shift from mere obsession to a more refined, sorrowful devotion. Linda is a woman who fails at the workaday, human tasks of intimacy and domesticity because she is, in essence, a shrine for a beauty that is divine and impersonal. The story of her life becomes the story of a "faded, desolate and insignificant bit of rubbish" who achieves peace only when her physical beauty is captured and made permanent in bronze by a sculptor.

Finally, the text moves to the present reality of the subject’s "arrival" as a successful, commercially recognized author. This transition causes the critic a palpable sense of unease. He expresses concern that the necessity of writing for a mass audience will lead Hergesheimer to dilute his vision, citing a collection of short stories as evidence of a drift toward safer, more conventional tropes. The essay concludes not with a definitive judgment, but with a cautious hope. While the author admits his own suspicion that Hergesheimer’s success is almost too good to be true, he affirms that the novelist’s fundamental "magic"—his ability to visualize the world with a painter’s eye and serve the "divinity" of beauty—remains the core of a career that is, in his estimation, only just beginning.

How It Unfolds

The formative years The essay opens with the legend of fourteen years of silence and rejection, establishing these years as the wellspring of the subject’s future thematic preoccupation with monomania and isolation.

The anatomy of desire The argument shifts to the characterization of the "Hergesheimer man," positing that his characters reflect the author’s own early, stubborn will to write despite a lack of encouragement.

The pursuit of beauty The text details the formula found in the early novels, where characters pursue unattainable ideals, ultimately failing to capture them in a way that suggests the vanity of the creative search itself.

The aesthetic of the shrine Focusing on Linda Condon, the analysis examines the concept of beauty as an "incongruous" and "divine" power that requires the sacrifice of common joys and human relationships.

The danger of popularity The critique turns to the subject’s recent commercial successes, expressing a fear that the pressure to appeal to a mass, "Philistine" audience will compromise the integrity of his future work.

The painter’s vision The analysis concludes by examining the subject’s unique stylistic approach, emphasizing his focus on textures, pigments, and the "optic world," which allows him to elevate his work above the ordinary.

The People

Joseph Hergesheimer The subject is presented as an "illogical" and "unconquerable" figure whose life has been dedicated to a single desire. He is a former painter who views the world with an intense, often abnormal, focus on objects and textures. While the author fears the corrupting influence of success, he views Hergesheimer as a rare, serious artist who serves the "divinity" of beauty with a fervor that borders on the religious.

The Hergesheimer Hero These men, such as Anthony Ball or Gordon Makimmon, are defined by their "will to write" transferred into a fictional quest. They are not interested in moralizing; they are consumed by a pursuit—whether of purity, atonement, or passion—that renders them incapable of participating in the trivial, day-to-day life that satisfies most people.

The Hergesheimer Woman Described as "ornamental odalisques," these women are often treated as "costly toys" or "avocational interests." They are rarely intimate partners; rather, they are symbols or shrines. Linda Condon is the archetype, a woman who possesses a "loan of beauty" and ultimately finds meaning only when that beauty is immortalized in art, effectively becoming a sacrifice to the god she represents.

In Its Own Voice

“In life, rather frequently, one appears to catch a glimpse of something of the sort just around the corner or over the way, but it is rarely, and perhaps never, actually at hand.”

The author highlights the elusive, ephemeral nature of what he calls "beauty" in the context of the artistic process.

“The Hergesheimerian panorama is, if I may plagiarize, a little truer than truth: and to turn from actual life to Joseph Hergesheimer’s pages arouses a sensation somewhat akin to that sustained by a myopic person when he puts on spectacles.”

The author explains the clarifying, almost hyper-real, visual effect that the novelist achieves through his meticulous attention to external detail.

What It's Really About

The essay is an inquiry into the cost of artistic devotion. It asks whether beauty can truly be communicated through the "desiccated relics" of words on a page, or if the artist is doomed to a life of "high questing foiled." The argument posits that the artist is in a state of perpetual feud with the world—and with his own domestic life—because he serves a divinity that is "elfinly inimical" to human morality. Ultimately, the work questions if a writer can survive the transition from an obscure, struggling artist to a successful public figure without losing the unique, "magic" vision that defined his original, solitary struggle. It is a meditation on the tension between the "gesture toward the stars" and the reality of the marketplace.

Why Read It Today

Reading this essay today offers a window into the high-minded, often contentious literary culture of the early 1920s. Readers who appreciate a blend of biography, aesthetic theory, and sharp, opinionated criticism will find the prose deeply engaging. The writing is warm and precise, though it assumes a reader familiar with the literary debates of the era.

Those interested in the mechanics of writing—the "brick-making" of style—will find the observations on Hergesheimer’s visual, painterly focus particularly insightful. However, modern readers should be prepared for the author’s candid, period-typical attitudes toward women and his frank elitism regarding the "mass audience." The author is unapologetically intellectual, and his skepticism about commercial success provides a fascinating contrast to the modern celebrity-driven literary landscape.

Ultimately, this book stays with you as a portrait of a specific kind of artistic integrity. Even if one is unfamiliar with Hergesheimer’s novels, the essay captures a universal struggle: the attempt to reconcile a private, "incommunicable" vision with the messy, public world. It is a reminder that the most "beautiful" work often emerges from those who, for years, have had nothing but their own persistence to sustain them.