Will Our Readers Help?
There is a beautiful plan on foot to help The Little Review live through its third year. It is this:
If our readers will order their books through the Gotham Book Society we will receive a certain percentage on all the sales. This arrangement has been made with the publishers, so that any book you want, whether listed in our pages or not, may be procured at the same price for which it is on sale at your local bookseller’s—and sometimes even less than that. You will find full particulars on page 50 of this issue.
Radical magazines do not become popular, and the problem of meeting the cost of production every month is really a desperate one. If there is a good response to this plan we ought to make the bulk of our publishing cost out of it, and then we can devote our energies to the improvement of the magazine’s quality. Will you please keep this in mind when ordering your books? It will mean such a tremendous thing to us!
The Russian Literature Class
In reply to many inquiries about the group for the study of Russian literature, we are glad to announce that the idea is in the process of realization. Early in January the group will meet, and will proceed to attend the regular lectures. The course will be offered by a Russian, who is well known to the readers of The Little Review. Those willing to join the adventure are asked to send their names and addresses to 834 Fine Arts Building.
John Cowper Powys on War
Margery Currey
It was a quite, quite dreadful jolt that shook the John Cowper Powys cult on the night of the debate between the master and Maurice Browne of the Little Theatre. The great one, appearing robed in black, through his Delphic, released, blinding vapor clouds of infallible utterance, was to devastate the suggestion that war is evil, avoidable, and should not be prepared for by military methods. Maurice Browne was to defend the suggestion.
Scarce half a moon before had the first murmuring of discontent arisen among the worshipers of the temple, when their idol, beautiful, mordant, flaming, strode forth in flapping black garments and proclaimed that in this great war of many nations “the gall and vitriol and wormwood and uncleanness of mankind are burned, purged from the purified flesh of humanity; that then humanity is transformed, until the passion of hate is hardly distinguishable from the passion of love.”