This Side of Paradise
arly to know the time, for something in his mind that catalogued and classified liked to chip things off cleanly. Later it would satisfy him in a vague way to be able to think "that thing
motional crisis and Rosalind's abrupt decision-the strain of it had drugged the foreground of his mind into a merciful coma. As he fum
, Amo
known at Princeton; he
y-" he heard h
Wilson-you'v
bet, Jim. I
to re
ly he realized that he w
overs
ping back to let some one pass, he knocked
muttered. "H
omatic, reached over and
ad plenty
ntil Wilson grew embarr
mory finally. "I haven
ooked in
or not?" cried
they soug
e h
st take
displaced by Carling, class of '15. Amory, his head spinning gorgeously, layer upon layer of sof
King Cole, "got be Prussian 'bout ev'thing, women 'specially. Use' be straight 'bout women college. Now don'givadam." He expressed his lack of principle by sweeping a seltzer bo
t Amory, waxing br
n' wonder-" He became so emphatic in impressing on Carling the fact that he didn't wonder that he lost t
ou celebrat
forward con
Great moment blow my life
ddressing a remark
a bromo-
his head i
that s
re making yourself sick.
elf in the mirror but even by squinting up one eye coul
id. We go get s
halance, but letting go of the bar was too
ley's," suggested Carl
o get his legs in motion enough to p
el. He consumed three club sandwiches, devouring each as though it were no larger than a chocolate-drop. Then Rosalind began popping into his mind again, and he found
ling was saying something ab
to articulate drowsi
ALCO
. His head was whirring and picture after picture was forming and blurring and melting before his eyes, but
at hotel
l right, send up t
bottle or just two of those little glass containers. Then, with
ar boy with the drinks and had a sudden desire to kid him. On reflec
nema reel of the day before. Again he saw Rosalind curled weeping among the pillows, again he felt her tear
llapsed on the bed in a shaken spasm of grief. After
ther glass he gave way loosely to the luxury of tears. Purposely he called up into his mind little incidents
very happy." Then he gave way again and knelt b
girl-my
that the tears streamed
u... need you... we're so pitiful ... just misery we brought each other.... She'll be shut aw
hen a
o happy, so v
y exhausted while he realized slowly that he had been very drunk the night before, and t
ng to recite "Clair de Lune" at luncheon; then he slept in a big, soft chair until almost five o'clock when another crowd found and woke him; there followed an alcoholic dressing of several temperaments for the ordeal of dinner. They selected theatre tickets
of the number of high-balls he drank, grew quite lucid and garrulous. He found that the party consisted of five men, two of whom he knew slightly; he became r
mself... this involved him in an argument, first with her escort and then with the headwaiter-Amory's attitude being a lofty
t suicide," he an
Next
take a room at the Commodore, ge
etting
another ry
talk it ove
o be dissuaded, fro
way?" he demanded con
ur
ft
ronic
d that in his opinion it was when one's health was bad that one felt that way most. Amory's suggestion was that they should each order a Bronx, mix broken glass in it, and drink it off. To his relief no one applau
to him, a pretty woman, with brown,
home!"
aid Amory,
" she announ
ke yo
man in the background and that one
onfided the blue-eyed woman. "I hat
eried Amory wit
odded
he advised gravely
the background broke away fro
I brought this girl out he
oldly, while the gir
at girl!" crie
o make his ey
cted finally, and turned
sight," he
and nestled close to him. S
over and spoke
he's drunk and this fellow here
shouted Amory furiously. "I'm no
her
ng on, damn it!
bent back Margaret Diamond's fingers until she released her hold on Amory, whereupon she s
d!" crie
t's
taxis are ge
k, wa
y. Your roma
y la
e you spoke. No idea. '
THE LABOR
the president's door at Bascome
me
tered un
ng, Mr.
e inspection and set his mouth sligh
We haven't seen you
Amory. "I'm
well-t
t like
ite-ah-pleasant. You seemed to be a hard worker
whether Harebell's flour was any better than any one else's. In fact, I never ate a
teeled by several i
d for a p
ed him to
erpaid. Thirty-five dollars a w
ou'd never worked before
e your darned stuff for you. Anyway, as far as length of service goes, y
ue with you, sir," sa
ust wanted to tell
t each other impassively and then
TTLE
engaged on a book review for The New Democracy on the staff of whic
el
el
here'd you get the b
y la
a mere n
is coat and bar
k he
ted a lo
hit
laughe
wly replaced his shirt. "It was bound to come sooner
was
the strangest feeling. You ought to get beaten up just for the experience of it. You fall down a
ted a ci
Amory. But you always kept a little ahead
o a chair and ask
w?" asked Tom
y sobe
family had been after him
f pain sh
o b
get some one else if we're going
ody. I'll leave
nded to have framed, propped up against a mirror on his dresser. He looked at it unmoved. After the vivid mental
cardboa
Why should I have? Oh, yes-the
dkerchiefs, and some snap-shots. As he transferred them carefully to the box his mind wandered to some place in a book where the hero, after preservi
e it, dropped the package into the bottom of his tru
voice held an und
-hu
he
t say, o
ve dinner
Sukey Brett I'd
O
y-
to Washington Square and found a top seat on a bus. He disemb
Amo
ll you
o! Wa
ATURE
over, he had neither remorse for the past three weeks nor regret that their repetition was impossible. He had taken the most violent, if the weakest, method to shield himself fr
had surprised him, gentleness and unselfishness that he had never given to another creature. He had later love-affairs, but of a different sort: in those he went back to that, perhaps, more
surroundings that he remembered as being cool or delicately artificial, seemed to promise him a refuge. He wrote a cynical story which featured his father's funeral and desp
several excellent American novels: "Vandover and the Brute," "The Damnation of Theron Ware," and "Jennie Gerhardt." Mackenzie, Chesterton, Galsworthy, Bennett, had sunk in his appreciation from sagacious, life-saturated geniuses t
had not heard from him; besides he knew that a visit to Monsignor would entail t
ence, a very intelligent, very dignified lady, a conv
no, Monsignor wasn't in town, was in Boston she thought; he'd promised t
, Mrs. Lawrence," he said rath
Lawrence regretfully. "He was very anxious to
ged into Bolshevism?"
aving a fri
hy
epublic. He thinks
S
greatly distressed because the receiving committee, when they r
't bla
n anything while you were in the a
e army-let me see-well, I discovered that physical courage depends to a great extent on the phys
t el
they get used to it, and the fact that I got
mperament, but in her perfect grace and dignity. The house, its furnishings, the manner in which dinner was served, were in immense contrast to what he had met in the great places on Long Island, where the servants were so obtrusive that they had positively to be bumped out of
ion and literature and the menacing phenomena of the social order. Mrs. Lawrence was ostensibly pleased with him, and her interest
you're his reincarnation, that yo
resent. It's just that religion doesn't seem t
this young poet, Stephen Vincent Benet, or the Irish Republic. Between the rancid accusations of Edward Carson and Justice Cohalan he h
this revival of old interests did not mean that he was
LESS
stretching himself at ease in the comfortable window-s
rted to write," he continued. "Now you save
English hunting prints on the wall were Tom's, and the large tapestry by courtesy, a relic of decadent days in college, and the great profusion of orphaned candlesticks and the carved Louis XV chair in which n
to the Biltmore bar at twelve or five and find congenial spirits, and both Tom and Amory had outgrown the passion for dancing with mid-Western or New Jersey debbies at the Club-de-Vingt (surnamed
year to little more than pay for the taxes and necessary improvements; in fact, the lawyer suggested that the whole property was simply a white elephant on Amory's hands. Nevert
quite typical. He had risen at noon, lunched with Mrs. Lawrence, a
Isn't that the conventional frame of mind f
atively, "but I'm more t
war did
y great effect on either you or me-but it certainly ruined the old
ed up in
great dictator or writer or religious or political leader-and now even a Leonardo da Vinci or Lorenzo de Medici couldn't be a real old-fashioned bolt in
ere never were men placed in such egotistic po
sagreed
nd Lenin take a definite, consistent stand they'll become merely two-minute figures like Kerensky. Even Foch hasn't half the significance of Stonewall Jackson. War used to be the most individualistic pursuit of man, and
here will be any more p
ld have difficulty getting material for
a good liste
riter or philosopher-a Roosevelt, a Tolstoi, a Wood, a Shaw, a Nietzsche, than the cross-currents of criticism wash him away. My Lor
lame it on
cy that is assigned you to deal with. The more strong lights, the more spiritual scandal you can throw on the matter, the more money they pay you, the more the people buy the issue. You, Tom d'Invilliers, a blighted Shelley, changing, shifting, clever, unscrupulous, represent the critical c
d Amory continu
ch, unprogressive old party with that particularly grasping, acquisitive form of mentality known as financial genius can own a paper that is the intellectual meat and drink of thousands of tired, hurried men, men too involved in the business of modern living to swallow anything but predigested foo
nly to get
gh sins on my soul without putting dangerous, shallow epigrams into people's heads; I might cause a poor, inoffensive cap
r this lampooning of his conn
got to do with
that it had muc
the less that's true. The only alternative to letting it get you is some violent interest. Well, the war is over; I believe too much in the responsibilities of authorship to write just now; and business, well, business speaks for itself. It has no connection
ion," sug
oing it instead of living-get thinking maybe life is waiting for me in the
al urge. I wanted to be a regular human be
find a
No, sir, the girl really worth having won't wait for anybody. If I thought there'd be another I'd lose my remainin
hour by the clock. Still, I'm glad to see you're b
. "Yet when I see a happy family
make people feel that w
THE
when Tom, wreathed in smoke, indulged in the sla
Rinehart-not producing among 'em one story or novel that will last ten years. This man Cobb-I don't tink he's either clever or amusing-and wh
ey
eal, comprehensive picture of American life, but his style and perspective are barbarous. Ernest Poole and Dorothy Canfield try but they're hindered by their absolute lack of any
double
f literary felicity but they just simply won't write honestly; they'd all claim there was no public for good stuff. Then wh
tle Tommy lik
ms until they swung loosely beside
m now, calling it 'Boston B
it," said Am
t the last fe
n. Let's hear 'em,
t and read aloud, pausing at intervals so
S
r Are
d Kre
San
Unte
e Tie
Shan
Oppe
l Bode
rd Gl
rmel
ad A
your n
t you
ly as
mauve-col
e Juv
llected
y ro
l buy you a meal on the arro
ovelists and poets. He enjoyed both Vachel Lindsay and Booth Tarkington,
'I am God-I am man-I ride the winds-I lo
ghas
ts to read about it, unless it's crooked business. If it was an entertaining subject they'd buy the life
is stories about little girls who break their spines and get adopted by grouchy old men because they smile so m
atch. "I'll buy you a grea' big dinner on the stre
NG BA
already hard for him to visualize the heart-whole boy who had stepped off the transport, passionately desiring the adventure of life. One night while the heat
wind-washed by night
ps, bearing on wasted
o gleams under the l
achine, in an hour
f the eyes of many m
l.... Oh, I was you
nite and most beautif
dreams, sweet and
ng in the midnight ai
-Life cracked like i
d pale, you stood...
ort upon the roofs a
one
osty mist along the
ong, mazed wires-eeri
a fatuous sigh for yo
ngs she loved, lea
HER
Monsignor Darcy, who had eviden
EAR
eeling of romance that you had before the war. You make a great mistake if you think you can be romantic without religion. Sometimes I think that with both of us the secret of success, when we find it, is the mystical element in us: s
at present, so it is hard for me to get a moment to write, but I wish you w
rprised to see the red hat of a cardinal descend upon my unworthy head within the next eight months. In
of your life. You might marry in haste and repent at leisure, but I think you won't. From what you write me about the present calamitous state of your finances, what you
eel annoyingly o
atest af
ER D
cause was the serious and probably chronic illness of Tom's mother. So they stored the furniture, gave instruction
ns by two hours, and, deciding to spend a few days with an ancient, remembered uncle, Amory journeyed up through the luxuriant fields of Mar