Word: conscious
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Dates: during 1910-1919
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Such a man was Professor Wendell. He always taught most effectively when least conscious or deliberate in his teaching. With his flawless taste in letters, hew was the surest possible guide to his students. Always he pointed them surely and directly to the best. With a gift for whimsical humor to sharpen his judgement, he invariably carried the interest of his students with him where-ever he chose to turn the shafts of his penetrating criticism. Ridicule was his favorite weapon for the banal and he had no mercy for the pious shams, the stuffed dummies that persist...
...jangling of old bells, the seasoned stone of the buildings, bridges and docks, and the "spire-shattered" sky. But frequently he seems to have been too busy being an imagist to be a poet as well. I do not mean to disparage imagism save when it becomes a conscious pose. Then it goes in search of the strange angle of vision, the unheard-of adjective, the interpretation of sounds in the terms of sight, of color in the terms of feeling and so forth. The author may adorn his poetry with these things, but if he writes his verse...
...stanzas, irregular rhyme and blank verse. There is the usual meteorological trend--snow, wind, waves, sunset and allied phenomena--but on the whole the range is reasonably wide and most of the authors are trying honestly enough to express what they themselves have felt and seen. There is no conscious imitation and very little allusion. But the total effect is conventionality. We get no new ideas, no new sensations, not even a shock, except perhaps in Mr. Paulding...
Toward the end of the number, the authors become increasingly conscious of the war. Mr. Simpson contributes a lively and amusing, though rather extravagant story in British nautical dialect of the "Blimey" school. Mr. Wolf savagely attacks Galsworthy for his attitude toward the war; it is hard for one who has not read the offending utterances to judge how far they warrant such an assault, but Mr. Wolf certainly makes his victim appear futile and irritating. At the end "A. K. MoC." interposes a few mild words in Galsworthy's behalf. "B. D. A." writes a review of Professor Perry...
...attains poetic feeling and divination of the Wordsworthian school with a tinge of Platonism. If poetry nowadays were only compatible with clearness! The verse libre of A. Kline Sp might have changed forms with "Succor," since "Sunday Chapel" is no less prosaic than Harding Scholle '17's less self-conscious effort toward oddity in form. With more earnest expression of sincere feeling this must even be a vain plea addressed to writers who nervously fret to be "different"--in vain, as long as Pegasus, instead of trying to get somewhere, fantastically pirouettes...