The Yale Literary Magazine (Vol. LXXXVIII, No. 6, March 1923)

In Short

This volume is an issue of the Yale Literary Magazine from March 1923, featuring essays, poetry, and fiction written by students. It offers a window into the intellectual preoccupations of the era, balancing cynical, sophisticated prose with the earnest romanticism of youth. The magazine is a testament to the literary culture of a specific university at a pivotal moment, capturing the transition between Victorian sensibilities and the dawning modern age. It remains a fascinating artifact of how young thinkers expressed their place in a rapidly changing, post-war world.

The Story

The magazine opens with a reflection on the nature of the "Yale man," positioning the university as a crucible where sincerity is the highest virtue and ridicule the primary tool for correcting social pretension. The editors argue that while the outside world remains full of "Freshmen"—perpetual novices in the art of living—the Yale experience is designed to refine one’s intellect through humor and common sense. This philosophical foundation sets the stage for a series of creative works that grapple with the complexities of human relationships and the hollowness of social performance.

The centerpiece of the issue is a short story, "This Modern Generation," which chronicles the romantic maneuvering of a young woman named Betty. Surrounded by suitors, she navigates the expectations of her father, who favors the wealthy, calculating broker Conrad, and her own attraction to the more mercurial, "romantic" Charles. The plot pivots on a night of impulsive behavior in a cabaret, where the veneer of civilized conduct peels away. The story culminates in a scene of genuine emotional distress that bridges the gap between Betty and Charles, leading to an abrupt, somewhat frantic departure that leaves the older, more rigid Conrad behind.

Following this narrative is a whimsical meditation on the "Soul of a Button," an essay that elevates a mundane domestic object into a symbol of childhood struggle and the loss of innocence. The writer traces the transition from the tactile joy of sorting buttons as a child to the utilitarian frustration of adult life, where the "buttonhole" becomes a metaphor for the empty spaces left by time. This leads into the review section, where the contributors evaluate contemporary literature, including the works of Hendrick Van Loon and Padraic Colum. The issue concludes with an "Editor’s Table," a valedictory piece that marks the passing of the current staff. It is a somber, almost elegiac farewell, acknowledging that their tenure at the magazine has reached its end and that the "days of wine and laughter" are slipping away into the past.

How It Unfolds

The intellectual landscape The issue begins by establishing the "Yale idiom," a blend of critical irony and social awareness. The editors define the university as a place where the dilettante is punctured by wit and the insincere are laughed out of existence.

The romantic dilemma The narrative focus shifts to a domestic drama involving a young woman caught between a predictable, wealthy suitor and a volatile, emotional one. The story plays out through social games of chess, tea, and dance, highlighting the tensions between duty and desire.

The descent into chaos The climax occurs when the characters venture into an unfamiliar, nocturnal world of cabarets and drinking. The facade of the "respectable" suitor collapses, revealing the raw emotional stakes hidden beneath the polite dialogue of the earlier scenes.

The reflective turn The pace slows for a philosophical look at childhood through the humble lens of buttons and buttonholes. This provides a bridge between the active drama of the preceding story and the critical literary reviews that follow.

The final curtain The issue concludes with a farewell from the editorial board. They reflect on the ephemerality of their time at the university, marking the transition from their current life to whatever comes next.

The People

Betty is the central figure, a young woman navigating the pressures of parental expectation and her own desire for romantic excitement. She is defined by her ability to manipulate social situations, yet she is prone to unexpected displays of vulnerability when the "play" she has orchestrated threatens to become real.

Charles is the impetuous, romantic foil to the orderly world Betty’s father envisions. He represents the passionate, often frustrated, younger generation. He is quick to anger and prone to dramatic gestures, yet his compassion ultimately allows him to rescue Betty from a situation she cannot control.

Christopher Conrad serves as the embodiment of the "objective" person—cool, wealthy, and calculated. He attempts to apply the logic of the stock market to his pursuit of a wife, viewing Betty as a prize to be won through persistent social maneuvering. His failure stems from an inability to account for the irrational nature of human affection.

Mr. Harrow, Betty’s father, provides the traditional backdrop. He is a man of habits—devoted to chess and comfortable routines—who represents the older, early-Victorian values that the younger characters find both stifling and occasionally amusing.

In Its Own Voice

Contextualizing the university's reliance on wit to maintain social standards:

“The world crushes the apocryphal with an iron heel, but Yale kicks it deftly out of a college window.”

Describing the disillusionment that follows a night of reckless behavior:

“It is gone like time gone, a track of dust and dead leaves that merely led to the fountain.”

Reflecting on the inevitable transition out of youth:

“They are not long, the days of wine and laughter, / Love, desire, and hate.”

What It's Really About

The central theme is the tension between the performance of adulthood and the reality of the human heart. The authors are preoccupied with the conflict between "modern" freedom and the weight of tradition. There is a palpable anxiety here about the fleeting nature of youth—the sense that the "days of wine and laughter" are finite and that behind every social interaction lies the threat of a "dénouement." The book questions whether one can ever truly be free while still adhering to the "bastard natural laws" of social class and economic necessity, ultimately suggesting that beneath all the wit and posturing, life is a fragile, passing comedy.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the atmosphere of the "Jazz Age" will find this volume particularly compelling. It captures the specific cadence of 1920s collegiate life—a mix of bravado, slight pretension, and genuine poetic longing. The prose is sharp and occasionally demanding, reflecting a period when intellectual rigor was a point of pride. You will encounter attitudes toward women and social class that are distinctly of their time, offering a clear-eyed look at the era’s limitations.

However, the reward for the reader is the emotional honesty found in the quietest moments—the reflection on the "lost buttonhole" or the melancholy of the final editorial. It feels like eavesdropping on a conversation that ended a century ago. The magazine is not a smooth, polished novel, but a collection of voices, and that is its true strength. It stays with you because it manages to strip away the "dazzle of the footlights" and reveal the raw, human desire to be understood before the gate finally closes. It is a poignant, if occasionally uneven, artifact of what it felt like to be young, clever, and uncertain on the cusp of an uncertain future.