Customer Reviews

The Harold Letters, 1928-1943: The Making of an American Intellectual

5 star:		(0)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Anyone curious to learn more about the (in)famous art critic Clement Greenberg will be intrigued by this collection, which documents his letters to his friend Harold Lazarus between 1928-43. Unfortunately, few of Harold's replies are extant, thus we are only privy to one side of the correspondance. We are presented with the fascinating portrait nonetheless; of an ambitious and extremely well-read young man, although not a particularly pleasant one.

Readers of Greenberg's criticism will be surprised by the tone of the letters; they are passionately and often carelessly written, possessing none of the clarity and composure of his professional writing. He admits at one point to Harold that he never read over his letters after having written them, and this would perhaps explain the rather uncompromising attitudes displayed in them.

Like many intellectuals, Greenberg was prone to bouts of depression and dissatisfaction with life in general. His lethargy and unwillingness to get a job was evident early on, noting in 1928, "it is becoming increasingly apparent that a literary life is only compatible with leisure." It was this aristocratic life of luxury which he undoubtedly aspired towards, noting a year later "I can't get enthusiastic about things that haven't any pleasure in them." (Coincidentally Greenberg's theories would later bemoan the decline of aristocratic patronage in the arts.)

One gets the impression that Greenberg thought himself the only man on earth who wasn't enthralled with the notion of working for a living. His stubborn selfishness is also evident in the way he writes of his relations to others. For instance, after the break-up of his first marriage, he complained of having to contribute time or money to the upbringing of his son Danny- it is unsurprising that the boy grew up to be a deeply troubled young man. He spoke coldly of his father and treated his step-mother with contempt due to her lack of intellectual pedigree. Even his Partisan Review colleagues did not escape his barbed comments ("Preserve culture from Jews. Hitler's almost right", he writes in 1940.) Most curiously, however, is how Greenberg "dropped" Harold in the 1940s after having corresponded so intimately with him for 15 years. It is sadly typical of his heartlessness towards others.

Nonetheless, there are elements of humour throughout- Greenberg's constant references to his increasing baldness, for instance, as well as worries over his manhood (his poolside colleagues were "twice the size" it seems- oh dear.) This humour helps to alleviate the reader from enduring Greenberg's obsessions and prejudices, and make the collection just about worth the effort.

Writing of his ex-wife in 1939, Greenberg unwittingly describes himself in a nutshell: "She is positively the most selfish and heartless woman I've a clear conception of. The lack of a sense of responsibility and reciprocity to her fellow mortals, the easy motives for her acts- the fact that she requires so little motive to justify her cruelty." As a professional critic Greenberg would later emphasise how life was more important than art- that one should be a good citizen before being a good artist or writer. It's just a pity that, given the evidence here, he didn't always apply these high standards to himself.