Evening star., 1938-05-22
Bv NC. X.


symbols, Volume I, Number S."
Readers whose memories 60 back to
the days of pre-war Bohemianism
will have no difficulty in recognizing
the thing it is; its counterparts used
to be sold by the bushel load in the
art bookstalls OF old Greenwich VIII
lage. Or maybe it would be better to
say that they used to be displayed
there, for one doubts that any OF them
ever sold to the hearty measure OF
bushel. They we're intense in purpose
but flaccid in expression, they were
full blooded in desire but aenemic IN
performance, they talked great deal
about roots. and strength and essen
tials-and that is what rootless. weak
and unessential people always do, once
they have eaten Of the tree OF knowl-
edge and seen their shocking lacks.
Well, Direction seems to have all
these tendencies. 1t is in other words,
little magazine" the perfect type
One supposes that the little maga-
zine is a thing which, like the poor,
is always with us. But 1t should be
understood that the adjective does not
refer to physical size. either in pages
or in circulation. It refers instead
to the outlook of the periodical, to
its editors point of view. Such sheets
seem always to derive from a world
of microscopic angers and resentments,
indescribably bitter and destructive,
quite inexplicable to those who 90 not
share them. But since, in the micro
cosm. as elsewhere, convention seems
to be the rule, they cloak their
motivating wrath under the we'll
admired virtues And so one finds
them claiming-as who, indeed. does
not?-that their only reason Tor
being is a concern for justice, truth.
freedom and beauty. The conclusion
one must draw is the material OF the
Oldest and the only indestructible joke
which human history has produced
that it is not by being big or by
being little that men cast on the
chains wherein they walk, but that we
are, alas, just what We are. The frog
in the fable could not blow himself
IN to match the bull and the bull was
equally limited. He could not matcn
the elephant and the elephant could
not shrink himself to match the frog.
The bitter anger OF the little maga-
zines is somehow sadly frosllke.
DIRECTION bears the stamp OF the
- fashion of all little thinkers at
the present moment 1t is reVoiu-
tionary, Left-wing, Socialist, COM
munist. what you will. 1t is enhent-
ening to peer for a moment through
the microscope and see what tempes's
rend this tiny universe.
In a leading article. then, Direction
fights a furious Tweedledee-and-d'lm
battle with "Trotskyism.' being, be-
yond any doubt, immensely concerned
about the making of a proper dis
tinction between that and the noble
"Stalinist administration" which II
fulsomely admires. Who cares? you
will ask, yawning. The answer is,
Direction cares. There can be no
question about that. 1t obviously cares
tremendously. And, observe, good
friends. Direction does exist.
So, to 90 on with it. We find, follow
ing this fervent argument, a page
of photographs called Faces OF the
Crowd" You will suppose on seeing
the title that the pictures are going
to show distressful types OF human
beings, battered despairing counte-
nances. such as have provided proflta-
bic material for so many big-t!me
photographers lately. Reading fur
ther that the shots were taken IN
Union Square, New York. on May
of last year, and show the variety
of types that respond to the spirit
of May Day" you anticipate seeing
the masses aroused sort OF thing
Unhappily, Directions photographer
is a poor propaganda, or else d.
rection's editors are amazingly With
out skill in selectivity. For the PIC
lures show only cheerful-looking citi-
zens, well fed. comfortably and even
well dressed. in such attitudes as are
generally assumed by people waiting
for a parade which is to say that
the May Day crowd is contentedly
rubbering. And how unrevolutlonary
that posture is! The masses, getting
ready to be aroused to their well
known deep. terrifying, primal wrath,
look, in Directions pages. exactly as
they do when waiting for the gate
to open at ball game If we are
to Judge by these pictures. the spirit
of May Day" is very slightly different
from that of Sunday school picnic.
How remiss of Directions photog-
rapher! Or is it that the editors have
lacked sufficient capitalistic wealth TO
purchase the pictures OF the hleh-
priced artists, whose competence IN
showing the forgotten man commands
top figures in the market? Oh, what
humiliation!
FOLLOWING this page is a long
L critical piece devoted to the poetry
of Horace Gregory. In spite OF Direc-
tion's scorn of the academic. 1t would
be hard to find a college boys term
paper that was more heavily loaded
with academic terminology. Appar-
ently the editors themselves have been
guiltily aware of this, for they have
lightened the page with a photograph
of a nude. The title of that picture Is,
with great originality, Spring"
Then comes the inevitable article on
Mexico. 1t is given over to a paen
of joy at the recent appropriation OF
the foreign oil companies. More de-
scriptive of the tone Of this piece than
any comment which the review could
make is the following quoted sentence:
1T is impossible, Of course, to give
you an accurate impression OF the
great days we have been living through
the past month in Mexico; days during
which men-old men, middle-aged
men, and young men-lawyers, doc
tors, civil engineers. public employees.
artists, mechanics and peasants-met
one another on the streets and high
ways, embraced with far more than
the usual warmth of friendship, and,
with tears in their eyes, exclaimed,
'Ah! that we should have lived to see