The Little Review, January-February 1916 (Vol. 2, No. 10)

In Short

Edited by Margaret C. Anderson in Chicago, this issue of The Little Review serves as a fiery manifesto for modernism in literature, music, and art. Blending imagist poetry, stream-of-consciousness prose, critical essays, and contentious reader correspondence, the magazine showcases early twentieth-century aesthetic debates. It champions radical artistic freedom over conventional morality and commercialism. The issue endures as a vital historical document of the American avant-garde, capturing the raw, unedited voice of a generation striving to revolutionize art while fearlessly confronting censorship, public apathy, and political upheaval.

The Story

The issue opens with the delicate, stark poetry of H. D., whose verses "Late Spring" and "Night" capture a fragile, sensory vulnerability before nature's relentless cycles. Following this, Margaret C. Anderson offers an impassioned meditation on the nature of piano music in "A Deeper Music." She argues that most performers reduce their craft to mere technical diction or emotional sentimentality, failing to honor the intrinsic, living beauty of sound itself. Through references to Arthur Symons, Paderewski, and Wilde, Anderson calls for an artistic devotion rooted in ecstasy and uncompromising personal expression.

The journal then shifts to creative character sketches and introspective prose. Sherwood Anderson contributes "The Novelist," a poignant depiction of a small, physically scarred Chicago store clerk writing obsessively in solitude. The narrative details the writer’s inner compulsion to craft stories, contrasting his messy, uncontrollable creative madness with the quiet forgiveness of his store colleagues and manager. Mitchell Dawson follows with brief, sharp poetic fragments that confront the dark, predatory aspects of human desire and friendship.

Critical commentary deepens as F. S. Flint reviews Amy Lowell’s Six French Poets, recalling personal disputes over literary taste while acknowledging the undeniable force of her critical voice. Marjory Seiffert’s poem "The Picnic" captures the quiet disillusionment of urban clerks returning home in awkward silence after brief moments of intimacy.

In the magazine’s editorial section, the narrative turns sharply toward political and cultural warfare. Anderson decries John Galsworthy’s misunderstandings of Nietzsche and George Bernard Shaw regarding the European war. She expresses outrage over the legal suppression of Stanisław Przybyszewski’s Homo Sapiens, condemning publisher Alfred Knopf for pleading guilty to obscenity charges to avoid expense. She urges readers to support radical causes, pointing to Rebecca West’s feminist journalism, Margaret Sanger’s fight for birth control, and the plight of political prisoners. Short artistic critiques blast the stagnant, uninspired exhibits at the Art Institute of Chicago, dismissing popular landscape painters as mere copyists lacking imagination.

The publication concludes with book reviews and a raucous, unedited letters section titled "The Reader Critic." Here, readers and contributors clash over the magazine’s aggressive commitment to radical art. Subscribers express outrage over Ben Hecht’s gritty story "Dregs," accusing the journal of crawling in the gutter. Anderson fires back, asserting that moral judgment has no place in literature. Other readers debate the nature of poetry, mock the magazine’s heavy seriousness, or express bewildered fascination with its revolutionary ambitions. Advertisements for radical publications, birth control texts, and modernist books close out the issue, framing the magazine as an active participant in cultural revolt.

How It Unfolds

The poetic opening H. D. establishes a mood of intense sensory exposure through sparse, imagist verse. Her poems depict nature's overwhelming beauty and the destructive, severing force of night.

The call for artistic ecstasy Margaret C. Anderson critiques contemporary piano performances for favoring technical precision over raw sound. She demands that artists pursue true passion rather than empty sentimentality.

The portrait of creative obsession Sherwood Anderson presents a scarred Chicago clerk driven to write by an unyielding inner madness. The narrative highlights the painful gap between commercial work and artistic creation.

The editorial clash with censorship The journal attacks the legal prosecution of modern literature and the cowardice of publishers. Editorials champion controversial social movements, including birth control and anti-war perspectives.

The battle in the letters section Readers react with a mixture of disgust, confusion, and passionate enthusiasm to the journal's bold material. Anderson defends her platform, insisting that authentic art exists beyond moral categories.

The People

Margaret C. Anderson The founder and publisher of the magazine, Anderson acts as the issue's guiding spirit and fiercest advocate. She wants complete artistic freedom and uninhibited emotional truth in literature and music. Hindered by public prudery, legal threats, and financial precarity, she refuses to back down, aggressively defending controversial authors and lecturing her subscribers on aesthetics.

The Novelist A small, hunched-up Chicago clerk with a scarred head and a torn ear, depicted in Sherwood Anderson's story. He wants desperately to write his novel about Virginia Borden, driven by an uncontrollable artistic madness. His poor typing, work mistakes, and absentmindedness irritate his store manager, yet he continues writing on cheap paper pads wherever he can sit.

F. S. Flint A sharp British poet and critic reviewing Amy Lowell’s latest book on modern French poetry. He desires rigorous, balanced literary criticism and debated Lowell's choices of poets over a dinner table before the war. Though defeated by her strong willpower, he generously acknowledges her work while playfully asserting his own critical independence.

The Reader Critics A collective of vocal subscribers, including offended readers, defensive authors, and curious newcomers. They seek either moral edification or radical innovation from the magazine. Divided between traditionalists shocked by graphic realism and modernists hungry for revolution, their heated exchanges reflect the period's cultural divide.

In Its Own Voice

"Most modern music is a beggar for pity. The musician tries to show us how he has suffered and how hopeless he is."

Margaret C. Anderson highlights Arthur Symons's criticism of musicians who prioritize personal grief over the natural power of sound.

"The novelist tries to shake off his madness but he does not succeed."

Sherwood Anderson describes the relentless, unavoidable impulse that drives a writer to create despite social and practical obstacles.

"There is no such thing as moral judgment in literature."

Margaret C. Anderson responds firmly to an offended subscriber, stating the magazine's core philosophy regarding artistic expression.

What It's Really About

This issue explores the tension between individual artistic expression and societal conformity. It asks whether art must serve a moral, educational, or commercial purpose, or if it exists solely for aesthetic ecstasy and truth. The text addresses the alienation of the modern artist living in an industrialized society, illustrated by the struggling Chicago clerk and the weary urban lovers. Furthermore, it tackles the threat of institutional censorship, arguing that social progress requires challenging conventional bourgeois values.

Why Read It Today

This issue offers an unfiltered look into the birth of American modernism. Readers interested in literary history, print culture, or the evolution of free speech will find it fascinating. It feels like stepping into a heated early twentieth-century Chicago salon where poets, anarchists, and critics argue over the purpose of art.

The collection presents minor reading hurdles. The prose reflects the specific debates of 1916, featuring references to long-forgotten art exhibits, obscure legal cases, and niche literary disputes. Its fragmented, magazine format lacks a singular narrative line, switching abruptly from delicate free verse to aggressive editorial polemics.

Yet, what stays with you is the editor's courageous, unyielding passion. The magazine’s refusal to compromise in the face of public outrage feels surprisingly fresh. It reminds us that the fight for creative independence is an ongoing struggle across every era.