The Southern Israelite. (Augusta, Ga.) 1925-1986, July 31, 1933, Image 9
BENJAMIN
De CASSERES
Ijjtes truth more than
George Jean Nathan is America’s foremost dramatic
ntic. De Casseres, author of "Forty I m mortals,”
Spinoza,” etc., is one of the outstanding literary
tnal\<!s <n this country. Both are Jems. Both love
truth "-lire than success. Sow read the result of “If hen
a Cntu Meets a Critic,” and you will understand
Sr, nan and l)e Casseres better than ever before.—
I nf Fmro*.
T <) write the history of America or its po
litical and dramatic history from 1910 to
somewhere still in the future and leave out
the name of Nathan would be comparable to
(ioethe having written Faust without Mephis-
topheles.
I once wrote a little fable. A poet of great
originality was walking over a very narrow bridge.
When he got near the center he saw two burly
‘hugs approaching him from the other end. The
thu;:> commanded the poet to lie down so that
thn could walk over him. The poet refusing to do
am such unaesthetic thing, the thugs, whose bap
tismal names were Circulation and Advertising,
tossed the poet in the raging current and strode on.
Now, in about 1910 or so, Nathan and Mencken
started over this very bridge, and, like the Poet,
vere commanded by the thugs, Circulation and Ad
vertising, to lie down and be walked over. For
• eplv. Nathan and Mencken ripped a ton of iron
'»ut of the bridge railings, stoved in the occiputs
md cerebrums of the two thugs and passed on,
Mencken’s spiked knuckles gleaming in the wester
ing sun and Nathan’s glittering intellectual mon-
"de singing its blithe and iridescent song to the
s’av swish of his malacca cane.
And. so far as Nathan is concerned at least,
kirv ation and Advertising were never seen again
PV(, n unto this day.
1 do not believe that any man’s opinion on any-
- in is worth my own opinion about that thing.
Wl you will confess on self-examination that that
|s precisely your own high opinion about your own
u*i. nent. Now, that is the crime George Jean
\ aT >n, in the field of dramatic criticism, has com-
:nir ‘ i and which has made him a most greatly
“hi ed personality in the eyes of the brainy and
*' le irst venomously hated man by the low-brows,
that his judgments are always right, sound,
unprejudiced. He would be the first to ad-
md he has many times admitted it, that he
more given to occasional fallibility than ever
rcy Hammond or an Alexander Woollcott
i admit in his most apocalyptically self-cleans-
noments.
has made me tear my hair and swear many
at the contemptuous way in which he has
"ed plays that I have liked. But his sin-
(even when he has posed as being “insin-
—Pdgar Saltus once said to me “1 hope you
1 lot going to be one of those always sincere
r s!”), his great, vast background of play-
'e, his two-fisted, fearless he-man style and
:> ility to analyze by a spontaneous spurt of
e taste, second to none in the world of dra-
- criticism—these qualities have won out over
'an
mit
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a I
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TI
The Gorgeous
Destroyer
A Critic Looks at George Jean Nathan
By Benjamin De Casseres
our differences in judgment. And I take great joy
in confessing that, although a dramatic critic my
self, 1 have been compelled to reverse myself on
my judgments of some plays after reading his close-
woven analyses of the plays in question.
The essence of Nathan’s greatness as critic, as
it is the essence of all first-class critics in any field
of thought, is his born gift of
dissociating his emotions from
his intellectual judgments. Criti
cism is thought, and thought is
war, a war often against the
critic’sown sentimental and emo
tional predilections. I may be
amused or 1 may sob at a situa
tion in a play or a book, but my
brain may say, "It’s a bad play,”
or “It’s a bad book." The ability
to pierce hokum no matter how
much it has amused and fascin
ated for an hour or two, is the
greatest function of the critic.
And no one has this gift in a
higher degree than Nathan.
In his reviews there is not the
slightest trace of that arch
enemy of intelligence—senti
ment. He knows a playplumbcr
from a born dramatist. He
knows precisely just how’ orig
inal and just how plagiaristic a
playwright is, having in his
head, at his instant command
seemingly, the plots and patterns
of all plays in all languages
from Aeschulus to Anne Nich
ols. He knows "where you get
it from,” and what you are try
ing to “put over.’’ This is also
why is feared and hated by the
scene-shifters and dialogue-
plumbers who call themselves
“dramatists.” They know’ there
will be a Sherlock Holmes on
an aisle seat on the first night.
And many have suicidal—if not
homicidal—thought when they
see Nathan go out w’ith his hat
and coat after the first act.
Nathan is a gorgeous de
stroyer, w’hich should be the
primal function of critical
thought. I hold that about
eighty per cent of all “drama"
is bunk and there is no sport like
riddling bunk. Why put anything in its place? An
open field is superior to a block of rotten rooker
ies. Nathan is ruthless, for which I also admire
him greatly. When you go to w’ar it is generally
believed you go to kill. His ridicule is not as over
whelming as Mencken’s, nor is his invective as
withering. But it is often subtler. Mencken is an
avalanche. Nathan destroys and crumbles from
within. He takes the drama, his mistress, more
seriously than Mencken takes books and life. In
fact, Nathan is the only New York dramatic critic
that I know of who takes the drama seriously, as
a profound art-form, with the possible exception
of Dana Skinner, of the Commonweal, w’ith whom
I seldom agree, but for w’hom
I have great respect.
But they do not know Na
than at all who assert that he
is only a destroyer. He is a
man of great intellectual enthu
siasm. Cerebral enthusiasm is
the emotion and the sentiment
of the artist-critic. Nathan
"raved” over the Gest-Rein
hardt production of The Mir
acle. He has labored in season
and out to proclaim the genius
of Gordon Craig to the world.
He fairly wept streams of men
tal tears over the failure of the
public to support Rostand’s The
Last Night. Of Don Juan and
Fugenc O’Neill’s The Foun
tain. It was he w’ho persuaded
John I). Williams to produce
O’Neill’s Beyond the Horizon.
He printed O’Neill from the
first and he fought for him, but
will have none of his Lazarus
Laughed because it deals w’ith a
religious theme, which is an in
comprehensible and absurd prej
udice to me in view of his writ
ten words on The Miracle. He
was the first man, I believe, to
print Dunsany in America, in
that unique The Smart Set, the
best magazine America has ever
had. He threw’ his hat up over
The Captive, aligning Bourdet’s
name with Shakespeare. 1 re
mark these few instances to
show’ that Nathan, like all great
critics, is not devoid of enthusi
asm and that he can praise as
loudly as he can smash.
He is a born aesthete. Only*
the rare, the beautiful, the dis
tinctive have any attraction for
him either on the stage or in
life. He has "aristocrat”
scrawled all over him, in his
manner, looks, walk, voice, whereas his partner
in critical crime, Mencken, is thoroughly demo
cratic.
The paradox of Nathan lies in the fact that
while he is an aristocrat to the manner born, his
style is democratic, loud, slugging. The law* of
compensation probably. (Please turn to page 18)
GEORGE JEAN NATHAN
Occasionally fallible.
SOUTHERN ISRAELITE *
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