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IT will be very difficult for the generation which found consciousness during the twenties to assess the value of this work. For, however much its editors have sought to make it an historical document, this photographic panorama of the United States since 1860 must, through its very character, remain an effort dedicated to the artful stimulation of nostalgia. Perhaps that virus, bolstered as it is by the camera and by Mr. Allen's informal chatter, will prove itself not yet exhausted by the thorough ministrations of Mr. Mark Sullivan and the self-styled humorous magazines. One is inclined to feel however that such a work is, now at least, better suited to testing the sentimental depths of an old order, than to stirring up bright interest in the new.
But if it is not entirely possible for this reviewer to revive for the n'th time an appreciative artifical sentimentality or a chortling complacency, he must grant the editors of "The American Procession" due credit for skillful application of the diluted stimulus. The photographs, arranged in rough chronological order, are so selected as to probe the most various corners of subconscious memory. There is a full length profile of John L. Sullivan, arms limply extended, legs swathed in knee-buttoned tights, mustachios waxed and contemptuous, stomach distended,--for such was the masculine style. There is the "tennis girl of the eighties", racquet posed delicately behind the neck, feet swathed in high heeled boots, dress distended by the bustle, or as Mr. Allen quotes, "by a kind of ambulatory showcase, or exhibition grounds,"--for such was the female style. There is a camera portrait of Mrs. August Belmont hugging her muff in the midst of a fake snowstorm. There are faro games, and the Klondike, Fanny Ward in "Pippino" and Maude Adams in "Rosemary". The drawing rooms of the Vanderbilts and the Astors vie in roccoco obscenity. Valeska Surrat displays the hour-glass silhouette which won her recognition as the Gibson girl and the enjoyment of generations to come. There is the Klondike, there are Carry Nation, Eugene Sandow, "bathing" suits, Floradora girls, Henry Ford, Jay Gould and a myriad more.
These are well chosen to tickle reminiscence. And in this respect, Mr. Allen's comments too, are above reproach. If they are informal, if often they take on the questionnaire aspect of the minor parlor sports, one can only conclude that they represent the spirit and the intent of the book. Perhaps when the garish and unsubstantial covers have worn a little, and when references to 1933 appear not quite so obvious and so dignified as at present, the editors may feel some compunction that much effort and fine printing have been spent on a work largely devoted to temporary interest.
This is not to say that "The American Procession", as it is, contains no permanent value; any such handy collection cannot help being useful. But if the authors, with an eye and a half on the immediate customer have somewhat impaired that usefulness, they may at least be content with a well-edited, lively, best seller.
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