The Blue Review

Music, Dismay, and the Blue Review

I explored the Blue Review, the short-lived successor to Rhythm. Each of its three issues followed a standard layout: contents, an imprint, an illustration, three or four short poems, several articles or essays, a visual art section in the middle, more essays, and, finally, advertisements on the back cover. The Blue Review seemed to appeal to a bibliophile audience and many of its ads relate to monographs, though one issue included a dressmaker’s ad and the same French ad was published in all three issues. This use of French, as well as appearances of other languages such as an article titled “Daibutsu” and sections regarding German and Italian books, also indicates an appeal to international audiences.

I picked an article in the middle issue - June 1913 - of the Blue Review called “A Fresh Start in Music,” which aims to balance two groups of composers: the academics and the modernists, in the article’s terms (volume 1, issue 2, page 97). The author toys with the mechanization and modernization of orchestras as well as the worth of preserving past theory and foundations for music. The page layout seems fairly simple: the pages are left-justified and one column; there is no visual art; the essay is situated toward the middle of the issue between an article called “Anger and Dismay” and another called “Epilogue: II.”  I find the juxtaposition with the “Fresh Start in Music” following the “Anger and Dismay” article, as music is often considered to be an antidote to anger and dismay, as well as a general soothing influence. The first issue of the Blue Review doesn’t have a dedicated music section, but the third and last issue concludes its articles with a survey of Beethoven, Elgar, and Debussy. This also indicates internationality on the part of the journal through its grouping of German, English, and French (respectively) musicians.

Short-run vs. Long-run: Comparing The Little Review to The Blue Review

 Knowing that I wanted to compare The Little Review with another modernist journal, I initially sought out a magazine that was drastically different from the magazine on every level.  However, I eventually decided that The Blue Review would provide a more revealing contrast given that, in a lot of ways, the publications were not so different, in terms of content and manifestos, and most strikingly, initial cover design.  Although The Little Review's first issue (March 1914) was not published until almost one year after The Blue Review ran its last issue of only three (July 1913), it held a striking similarity in its visual format, with nearly identical typography, a border around the title, followed by a list of contributors and the publishing location.  While the magazine's titles differed in their notable descriptive adjectives, their subtitles were practically identical and conservatively straightforward: The Little Review's "Literature Drama Music Art" and compared to The Blue Review's "Literature Drama Art Music."   

Pictured below are the last issue of The Blue Review (July 1913) and the second issue of The Little Review (April 1914):

 

 

With magazines with similar agenda and aesthetic, why would one run for 15 years and one, in some sense, "fail" after only three issues? While surely there are a number of contributing factors to fully answer this question, I decided to illuminate a corner of the larger picture by examining the self-marketing of each magazine to identify differences in their strategy.

In the May 1913 issue of The Blue Review, almost all of the advertisements for magazines and other publications are located at the end of the magazine.  The ads are international in their promotion, feauturing French, Italian, and American publications.  There is also an advertisement featuring back order issues of Rhythm (The Blue Review's predecessor, also published by John Middleton Murray) "in response to numerous inquiries," which had completed its run two months prior.  In this first issue of the magazine, any explicit self-marketing was notably absent.

In contrast, in the second issue of The Little Review, published in April of 1914, a sizable portion of the magazine is devoted to self-marketing.  For instance, six pages of the issue (49-55) contains letters of praise from readers, primarily in the Chicago area, but also form various parts of the country. Weston of Geneva, Illinois, a town that lies about one hour west of Chicago, states in her letter, "I am pleased with its general appearance and the contents are inspiring----full of the spirt of youth. I wish The Little Review every success!" In their overt praise and vast numbers, the collection of responses almost read like over-earnest testimonials for questionable products advertised on late-night television today.  The final pages of the magazine are then devoted to more traditional ads for services, products, and other publications.

Overall, although the magazines share many other similarities, their approach to self-marketing appear drastically different.

Project 1: French Dominance Over British Culture

Madison Niemann, Courtney Manning, David Ball

French Dominance Over British Culture

 

Throughout the course of the early 20th century, British culture was heavily influenced by the dominant French culture in many aspects of artistic traditions.  The Blue Review defines a wide variety of art consisting of, but not limited to, writers, painters, actors, musicians, sculptors and poets.  Throughout the course of the early 1900s there was a strong desire to integrate the French culture into these forms of art.  Within the Anglophone magazine, The Blue Review, French culture is heavily integrated into art and literary articles, suggesting a French influence over British culture. Not only does the British culture look to the French as dominant in the artistic world, but the French put themselves above other cultures as well as seen in La Nouvelle Revue Francaise, a French magazine published during the early 1900s.

In the first issue of The Blue Review, released in May 1913, there is an article entitled “The Esperanto of Art” written by W.L. George.  With a title like that you would expect something that would speak to multiple areas of artistic talent, however the French culture and their art forms dominate this article. The word “Esperanto” itself is a form of an international language, a language meant to be universally understood in politics.  So, the Esperanto of Art would seem to express some form of international and universal art throughout Europe, but this is not the case.  In his article, George picks apart the various techniques that make a great work of art.  Art in this case, has many meanings, George begins the article stating that “There is, there must be a link between the painter, the sculptor, the writer, the musician, the actor, between the poet in words and the one, to-day most common, who wishes to express himself in the deeds of his own life” (28). Throughout all of his critiques of technique he uses various artists to prove his point and about ninety percent of these artists mentioned happen to be French. He is able to identify many French artists in every aspect of the word, not just painters and sculptors, but writers, poets and actors as well. Perhaps this is because George grew up in France, though he now considers himself to be an English writer, that he was able to pull a wide variety of French artists into his article. Or it is because at this time, the French were superior in the art world, and George was using their expertise as an example for the British, so they could strive to reach their level of excellence.  He creates a new way to view art, not simply as a way of drawing and painting, but a way of creatively expressing emotion in a number of forms.

            Throughout the article George walks readers through various terms that help them to further identify what makes a strong work of art.  He is telling us that his article is going to help us find the common “Esperanto” of art, that is, the common language of all art.  He classifies art into four groups: volumetric, linear, kinetic and static.  Within these groups George links all art forms together through the basic structures that form the art world.  He starts off with the explanation of concentration on a specific subject matter.  He uses writing and painting as examples of how something can be concentrated, saying, “We nullify areas, therefore, and must lay down that the test of concentration is the effect: if the painter realizes that the author has felt all he wrote, if the writer sees that ever line was necessary, then both can be sure that they are respectively in presence of concentrated works” (30). Here he is demonstrating how both writing and painting share the same qualities when having a concentrated work; in order to know that something is complete you must be able to depict the direction that you want the work to go.  They must have a strong focused concentration that is able to be the focus of the rest of the work of art.  Within this concentration comes a variety of sentence structure and tone, depending on the work of art. This variety is also known as relief, which is “the matter of contrast” (30).  Relief is important because it directs the viewers eye from spot A to spot B, whether it be reading a poem or viewing a sculpture, the viewer must have something that connects the work and flows with the work to look at. Being able to connect the work together on a whole, also comes through in density and depth.  These two qualities are exemplified in the works of Gustave Flaubert, a French novelist, and Velasquez, a French painter.  George continues by discussing the techniques of rhythm and movement, which can be found in Matisse’s works, another French painter. And of course a work of art cannot be complete without balance, which is giving every item in the work equal intensity and importance.  George tells readers that there is always balance in the purely decorative.  He ends by discussing grace and harmony, which are all found in the quality of lightness of a work.  He uses examples of Andre Gide, Walter Pater, and Watteau to depict grace and harmony, all of who are French artist with different emphasis in the art world.  He says, “While grace must stand by itself as a not especially important quality because it is not, need not, always be present, harmony must be recognized as a synonym of balance” (35).  George attempts to depict an Esperanto of art, but what he is actually doing is depicting how French artists dominate the artistic world from every level.  Whether or not he meant to depict this dominancy, his message is very clear.  France controlled most of the artistic world, and other countries attempted to meet their standards but would never fully match the ability and prestige found in French works. The same can be found in a literature portion of the magazine as well.

Within two separate issues of The Blue Review, there are two articles entitled “French Books” by the editor, John Middleton Murry. Murry, an Englishman, writes these articles as opinion pieces about French work, as well as what is occurring literarily and culturally in France. In Volume 1, issue 1 of The Blue Review Murry discusses the French author, Honoré de Balzac.  Murry decides to include some excerpts from Balzac’s criticism of authors such as Victor Hugo; interestingly enough, some of the criticism is in English, while some is in French. Murry quotes Balzac in translated English, though a paragraph later in the article Murry pens, “And Balzac follows out his criticism relentlessly until he reaches the conclusion” (57). The conclusion, however, that Murry includes from the same work of Balzac is written in French, he does not bother to translate this portion of the article, which could lead some English readers to confusion. This is interesting to note because it appears in an English magazine, yet Murry expects the reader to be able to read and comprehend French literary criticism in the original French language. Another aspect of the article is that Murry provides the reader with his own personal critique of the novel that was chosen for the Prix Goncourt, a French literary prize. He dedicates the rest of the article to condemning the French for picking the novel Les Filles de la Pluie by André Savignon, over Julien Benda’s work L’Ordination, which he believes to be superior. Murry critiques the works, commenting that, “Les Filles de la Pluie is chaotic, and therefore not a work of art” (59). He then comments on Benda’s work stating, “L’Ordination is, if barely a great book, is at least a good and sincere book. Its theme is to be found in the phrase, ‘La pitié c’est la mort’” (59). Murry critiques the choice of Savignon’s work being awarded above that of Benda’s, demonstrating a sincere concern for French culture, after all he is commenting solely on an award given in France, this award is inapplicable to British authors writing in the English language. This suggests to the reader that Murry believes it to be important to know the winner of a French literary prize, demonstrating that French works and culture are deemed important in British society. By discussing a French literary award he is placing importance on it, and by questioning which author it was given to, he questions the authority of the Academié Goncourt, which is interesting to note since he is an Englishman.

            In Volume 1, issue 2 of The Blue Review, Murry continues the section, this time entitled, “French Books: A Classic Revival”. Within this piece he discusses L’Action Française, a French movement that was in favor of the monarchy and therefore counter-revolutionary.  Murry claims, “The immediate cause for L’Action Française was the Dreyfus trial, and though English opinion was practically unanimous in supporting Dreyfus and condemning anti-Semitism, there can be little doubt that on a purely nationalist grounds the French agitation against Dreyfus was justified” (135). This is an interesting, and incredibly complex statement. For here, Murry, an Englishman, claims that the opinion of the English people was “practically unanimous in supporting Dreyfus”, however he then defends the French feeling of resentment towards Dreyfus and their wanting to keep their national identity as a Catholic nation. Perhaps he supports this because it aligns France in England in a way; L’Action Française supports the monarchy, which England also has. Or, he supports their identity as a mono-religious Catholic nation because England can also be viewed as a mono-religious nation. Moving away from a cultural reference, Murry begins to speak about a poetry movement going on in France entitled “Fantaisistes”. This is a movement dealing with fantasy. Murry writes that this school of poetry is, “The faculty that of analyzing experience with an irony that verges on cynicism and an introspection that verges on egoism” (136). He goes on to talk about how it is “eminently French” but that it has been borne down for centuries by other cultures including German, English and Spanish. This use of “borne down” seems to have a negative connotation to it, like these cultures were inhibiting and tainting a purely French tradition with their own takes on the Fantaisistes movement. This is interesting to note because he lists the English as being a culture that inhibited this movement and suggests that it would have been better off left untouched by other cultures besides the French. He seems to idealize the French in a way, siding with them on a few issues that perhaps his fellow countrymen might not. Towards the end of the piece he includes a French Fantaisistes poem by M. Derème, which is not translated from the original French it was written in, leaving it up to the reader to decipher the meaning of the poem. Once again, he assumes that the reader will be able to comprehend the poem in French insinuating that the reader is knowledgeable of the French language, and the French culture. Although The Blue Review is not a French magazine, in these specific articles it depicts French issues as if they hold high importance in the British culture.  Just as the British hold the French in high regards, the French think of their culture as dominant as well, as seen in La Nouvelle Revue.

            La Nouvelle Revue Française tries to approach art from an international perspective, but both the literary and critical content convey a fixation on “high”—specifically—French, culture. Jean Schlumberger opens the La Nouvelle Revue Francaise with his article “Considérations,” in Vol. 1 (published in 1909), with a discussion of how artistic communities form. He poses two overarching considerations: the more ephemeral issues of fashion, aesthetic taste, and cultural custom; then, what Schlumberger calls problèmes essentiels, referring to the ideological dilemmas, which “Each artist must face, alone, in the most decisive moments of one’s life”[1] (Schlumberger, 5). Those artists who have arrived at similar conclusions to these questions form camaraderie, or artistic circles, which give preferences to an agreed upon body of work, representative of the group’s artistic tastes—much like the type of artistic community that Ezra Pound was attempting to cultivate in Anglophone literature. Despite the parallel sentiments, the article focuses solely on the French reactions to established artistic conventions. Even vers libre (free verse) is discussed as a purely French conception for “liberating poets…important in breaking from the discomfort of the Alexandrine”[2] (Schlumberger, 7). This reference to the French poetic form would seem to exclude English-speaking poets, whose traditional poetic form was iambic pentameter. He does make a distinction, however, between the French language and French culture, alluding once again to internationalist sentiment while simultaneously excluding foreigners, saying that Francophone culture extends past France’s borders, “but…our responsibility is limited to that which happens [in France]”[3] (Schlumberger, 10).

Having read Schlumberger’s article, it would seem that the La Nouvelle Revue Francaise not only has a preference for French literature, but French ideologies as well. In the magazine’s sixth issue, however, André Gide suggests a more universal, humanistic approach to ideological perspectives, in his response to Henri Clouard’s “Enquête de La Phalange.” (La Phalange was another French literary publication). Gide claims that Clouard’s approach to establish a national literature is “simple, too simple: one chooses in the body of literature the several works which seem them best, which is to say, in this case, those which gratify one’s own tastes and temperaments the most”[4] (Gide, 431). In his own footnote, Gide lists the authors to whom Clouard refers—Racine, Marivaux, Barrès, Moréas, Mme de la Fayette, and Gérard de Nerval. This canonization of authors, is distinctly Francophone, but directly parallels the English canon that T.S. Eliot would revise “to gratify [his] own tastes and temperaments”. But Gide echoes Matthew Arnold’s humanistic ideologies, arguing that without the individual’s experience, neither nationalism nor universalism would exist, stating: “the most human works [of art]—those which remain of the most general interest—are also the most particular: those which manifest the genius of a race through the genius of an individual”[5] (Gide, 430) He continues, “What is more national than Aeschalus, Dante, Shakespeare, Molière, Goethe, Ibsen, Dostoïevsky?”[6] (Gide, 430). In a final recognition of outside influence, Gide asks the reader (and Clouard) to consider that “our best artists are very often the product of hybridizations and uprootings”[7] (Gide, 432). Thus, at the root of any national literature is the work of the individual, which can then be adopted as a nationalist work only after its reception by the general public.

Within both an Anglophone and a Francophone magazine, the French culture is seemingly idealized. The Blue Review emphasizes various aspects of French culture, at times integrated in essays, opinion pieces and even an advertisement for La Nouvelle Revue Française. Not only can French influence be found in the articles stated above, but throughout The Blue Review on the whole. Thus demonstrating that the English attempted to model their works off of existing French pieces. The English reader was also expected to be able to comprehend the French language as well as French cultural references without explanation. In La Nouvelle Revue Francaise the French culture is shown to transcend past France’s borders in its influences on other countries. Thus it is clear that the French culture had large influences in multiple facets of the British culture overall.





[1] “Chaque artiste les affronte, seul, dans les moments les plus decisifs de sa vie.”

 

[2] . “Pour libérer les poètes qu’il importait de briser la gene de l’alexandrin…”

[3] “Mais simplement parce que notre responsabilité se borne à ce qui se passe chez nous.”

[4] “Simple, trop simple: on choisit au cours de la literature les quelques oeuvres qui vous paraissent les meilleures, c’est-à-dire, en lespéce, celles qui flattent le plus votre temperament et votre gout.”

[5] “Les oeuvres les plus humaines, celles qui demeurent d’intérêt le plus general, sont aussi bien les plus particulières, celles où se manifeste le plus spécialement le genie d’une race à travers le genie d’un individu.”

[6] “Quoi de plus national qu’Eschyle, Dante, Shakespeare, Molière, Goethe, Ibsen, Dostoïevsky?”

[7] “Nos plus grands artistes sont le plus souvent des produits d’hybridations et le résultat de déracinements.”

The Blue Review on French literature

It’s hard to get a solid grasp on British-French relations from one essay or one magazine.  And understanding the complexities of international relations is an intimidating task; I feel like I’m playing catch-up, like I’m looking for the one thing (on the MJP, MMP, Wikipedia) that will encapsulate the demeanor of Britain and France’s literary relationship, and relationship in general.  I know this perfect encapsulation does not exist on any one page of any of the little magazines we’re looking at; I know the evidence is piecemeal and dynamic, that it can’t be nailed down. Without a clear historical/political knowledge base of these countries, to make grande statements, it simply has to be a part-by-part acquisition.

I started by simply looking at names—paying attention to the ones (particularly French authors) making their way back and forth across the English Channel in the pages of Britain’s little lit. magazines.  More than a few names show up over and over.  Even a cursory look at the short run of the London’s Blue Review (May-July, 1913) demonstrates that not only were Brits (some, at least) looking at French literature, they were looking to it.  Every issue of Blue Review has a section devoted French literature, old and new.  In fact, each issue praises (in one way or another) the 19th century French author, Stendhal—a realist author (issue 1, issue 2, issue 3).  While I don’t feel comfortable drawing large implications from these inclusions, it’s clear that modernist Brits like The Blue Review’s editor, John Middleton Murry, were looking (longingly) backward.  Such adamant and continuous attention to what we might call “old-guard” and bourgeois French literature is an interesting note in the aesthetic leanings of Britain’s intellectual/artistic community during this period the was essentially a tipping point.  That is, the brink of World War I and the worldwide artistic shifts that followed—Dadaism and Surrealism—which were entirely anti-bourgeois, anti-art, and (as we might expect) never particularly significant in Britain…until Punk Rock came along, of course.

Genre in The Blue Review

“The Blue Review” was a monthly magazine with a short run from May to July of 1913.  A follow-up to the quarterly “Rhythm”, “The Blue Review” provided an additional outlet for the publication of visual arts, literary works, and academic essays.  Though generally dense with semantic contributions, sparse works of visual art, as well as critical pieces, with thematic significance add to both the aesthetic and literary value of “The Blue Review”.  This unification of poetry, fiction, visual elements, and analytic works is such that when combined, the effect is harmonious.  Rather than detract from the individual quality of one piece, these works compounded make the overall exponentially better.

Although there aren't many poems in "The Blue Review", the majority of the poems that are included tend to have very similar concepts of love and nature. Most of the poems use nature as a way to express the authors ideas about being in love as well as the effects that aging and getting older has on a person's feelings of love. The poem "Loves Youth" by William H. Davies, written in 1913 (Vol 1. No.3, pg 151), is an example of the use of nature to portray the authors feelings about getting older and still being able to love. He says, "Not only is my love a flower/ that blooms in broad daylight/ But, like the evening Primrose, it/ Will bloom again at night". He uses nature as a metaphor to show that he acknowledges the fact that he is getting older, however, he isn't mournful about it because his love is still young and fresh. James Elroy Flecker uses this same technique in his poem, "Yasmin A Ghazel", written in 1913 (Vol 1. No. 2). His poem describes the romantic connection he has with nature. He talks about waking up in the morning and seeing the suns rays shine down on the lilies and the roses and being able to have the person you love laying next to you. I think these two poems exemplify the way the poets that are included in "The Blue Review" use nature to portray their ideas of love.

 It seems that the same themes of poetic reverence for nature, and all things natural, resonate in the artwork of “The Blue Review”.  And yet, it is though there is a subtlety to these pieces that keep them from feeling hackneyed; a quality that makes for relevance.  “Painting”, by Ambrose McEvoy  might very well be called “Portrait” if we were to only consider the foreground.  The white of the subject’s dress catches our attention, but it is the background that holds it as we consider her muddled reflection--- All at once the whole painting is transformed by her hidden sadness, and we look back through the mirror at a woman and painting made suddenly beautiful.  This notion of complex duality can be found in the use of shadows in G.S. Lightfoot’s “A Composition”. Again, a young woman serves as the subject.  But unlike “Painting”, this piece has a voyeuristic feel to it---  As though we are observing something we are not supposed to see.  If we consider the shadow in the background, this eerie sketch becomes all the more haunting as it appears this woman is in some sort of spotlight, in addition to being scrutinized by us, the audience who exists in reality.  Perhaps the questions these works raise are indicative of a growth and maturation; an understanding that nature encompasses more than what we can observe.

Understandably, the essays published by "The Blue Review" are markedly different than the artistic pieces within a given issue. The distinction between them is not simply one of theme, however, but one of scope as well. Whereas the poems, stories, and visual artistic pieces tend to focus on a single idea, such as man's relationship to nature, distilling it into an impression or image, the academic contributions offer broader, theoretical criticism of the arts. Though the contributions to this category are diverse, there is a discernible current of thought running throughout. Specifically, the question of nation and its connection to artistic output recurs frequently. Perhaps counterintuitively, given their publication by a single magazine, these articles do not hold a unified position on the argument of how much British artists should submit to influence from other country's artistic trends. Rather, there is a clear schism between, on the one hand, critics who believe that British art suffers when it borrows from foreign sources and, on the other, critics who insist that there is value in being open to such influence. "Georgian Music" by W. Denis Browne represents one essay that takes the former position. In it Browne expresses disdain for composers who are "content to borrow the latest thing... from abroad and fit it onto English ideas that have no relationship to it" (65). He is encouraged, though, by the emergence of a new style which he sees as both modern and thoroughly native. Conversely, in "Conventions: Chinese, English and French", the author Gilbert Cannan posits that British theater can be improved by foreign influence, though he does recognize that recent attempts have been, thus far, unsuccessful. Nevertheless he claims that, "we have, after all, something to learn from the Chinese" (45). It is then in the juxtaposition of these seemingly irreconcilable essays that some overall motive may be understood. By positioning these, and other likewise divergent essays, side by side the editors have both revealed an ongoing debate of the times and permitted the readers of "The Blue Review" to participate in that debate in absentia.

Once this particular incongruency is resolved, however, a larger question arises: how do the varied genres in "The Blue Review" inform each other and fit together to form a cohesive whole? Though there is no clear answer to this dilemma, "The Esperanto of Art" by W.L. George may offer some key to resolution. To George the compartmentalisation of the arts is problematic: "There is, there must be a link between the painter, the sculptor, the writer, the musician, the actor, [and] the poet" (28). Consequently, he proposes a unified criticism under which all of the arts can be analyzed. This essay, in a way, verbalizes what may be the goal for "The Blue Review" as well. That is, not perhaps the universal lexicon George suggests, but simply the democratization of art. In this "The Blue Review" succeeds by presenting its readers with a heterogeneous mixture of genres, and criticisms of genres, to illuminate that, in George's words, "art is...all of one stuff" (28).

 

Bibliographic Coding in Art

 

Stanley Spencer's 1912 illustration, "Joachim Among the Sheepcotes" pays homage to the 14th century artist Giotto, and his painting "Joachim Taking Refuge Among the Shepherds".  While Spencer's original drawing was mostly pen and pencil with a subtle wash, its reprint in "The Blue Review" (vol. 2) gives the work a starkly contrasted, black and white quality, straying from the softer, sepia-like feel of Spencer's initial illustration. 

Giotto's painting, as the basis for Spencer's later work, provides a religious context to both pieces, as Joachim is said to be the father of the Virgin Mary.  This becomes pertinent if we are to understand the usage of any version of this piece by "The Blue Review".  Indeed, it seems noteworthy that Spencer's piece appears before any literary works in this volume of "The Blue Review", as the ensuing literary contribuitions have a similarly spiritual quality.

 Whether it be of reverance as we see in James Elroy Flecker’s “Yasmin” (“And some to Mecca turn to pray, and I toward thy bed, Yasmin”), or vague allusion to sanctity as seen by Norman Boothroyd’s “The End of the Lonely King” (“They shed no tear: they prayed no prayer”), it seems that the binding themes emerge as religiously entrenched.  As we read on, our questions of religious significance might arguably be answered by John Drinkwater's (the next contributing writer in this volume of “The Blue Review”) black and white affirmation: “Art is holy”.

 

Bibliographic Coding in The Blue Review

"The Blue Review" (Vol 1, No.3) is filled with all kinds of essays and poems which all showcase the different writing styles of the authors of that time. There is not much else in terms of art or advertisements. However, there is one advertisement that shows up in the very beginning of the magazine; http://dl.lib.brown.edu/jpegs/1169132435156250.jpg. This advertisement showcases two different novels. The first half of the page talks about a novel called "The Golden Journey to Samarakand" by James Elroy Flecker. It says that "his work is now eagerly looked for by all who really care for poetry". This to me sounds like the author is saying that whoever doesn't get this book must obviously not care about poetry.

The second half of the page advertises Compton Mackenzie's "Famous" novel, "Carnival", which is written in big bold letters. This is most likely the first word people see when they first look at the page. I would assume that this was done because, unlike the long and condescending description for the first novel, there is very little description for this one. So I guess in order to get people interested they had to use large letters to catch the readers attention.

It was interesting to me that this was the only advertisement in the whole magazine. Not only was it the only one but it comes right in the very beginning after the table of contents. That clearly shows its importance and kind of sets the stage for the many writings that are to come in the magazine.

Art in the Early 1900s

"Study" was published in "Rhythm" Vol.1, No.1 on page 4, during summer 1911. It was drawn by Orthon Friesz and it depicts a man with his back towrads us who does not seem to have much clothes on. His face is turned towards us and he is holding some kind of bag or sack in his hands. It is a very simple drawing with no color and very little shading. The Magazine cover says that it is about Art, Music and Literature. The pages are filled with tons of essays and varying kinds of art. This particular drawing goes along with the general motif of the magazine. It's simple and forces you to really look at it and decide for yourself what you think it portrays. It forces you to focus on the contour's of the body, as does the majority of the other artwork in the magazine. It seems very different and revolutionary.

"A Composition" was published in The Blue Review Vol. 1, No.2 on page 41 in June 1913. It was drawn by G.S. Lightfoot and it is a portrait of a woman sitting on a bed with her hands holding her face. Her face is pointed towards the ceiling and her eyes are closed. She seems very distressed. There is a lot more detail to this picture as well as the other drawings in this magazine. Although we can clearly see what she is doing we still do not know what is going on, which forces you to give your own interpretations. Since the "The Blue Review" is the successor to "Rhythm", it has the same kind of structure. It is filled with different kinds of art, poems and essays. They mostly focus on the Futurism movement, which I think both of these drawings exemplify.