This Wonderful Sequel to the best-selling A Mencken Chrestomathy of nearly half a century ago is full of the iconoclastic common sense that marked H. L. Mencken's astonishing career as the premier American social critic of the twentieth century. Gathered by Mencken himself before he died in 1956, this second chrestomathy ("a collection of selected literary passages," with the accent on the tom) contains writings about a variety of subjects - politics, war, music, literature, men and women, lawyers, brethren of the cloth. Some of his essays have beguiling titles - "Notes for an Honest Autobiography," "The Commonwealth of Morons," "Le Vice Anglais," "Acres of Babble," "Hooch for the Artist." All of them are a pleasure to read, and we are reminded that what Mencken wrote in the early years of this century remains applicable to a very different America.
Publishers Weekly This book's precursor, A Mencken Chrestomathy (collection), was a bestseller in 1949; this anthology of 238 short excerpts from a range of works, selected and annotated by Mencken but unfinished, lay undisturbed in a Baltimore library until Teachout, an arts columnist for the New York Daily News, found it in 1992, while working on a Mencken biography. Teachout considers Mencken's work still immediate. Indeed, quotable lines abound: ``His public life is an endless series of evasions and false pretenses,'' writes Mencken on ``the politician under democracy.'' Baltimore's bard can be magnificent and maddening in the same passage, damning American idiocies while disparaging immigrants. But what impresses most about this collection is Mencken's breadth; few contemporary writers would assume such a broad brief, writing not only about politics, law and the clergy but also about geography, literature, music and drink. To apply a Mencken sobriquet, he was no lesser eminento. (Jan.)
Library Journal Selected as a continuation of the original chrestomathy by the Baltimore iconoclast himself before his death, this logically organized sampling of his pre-Depression credos (mostly from The Smart Set and American Mercury) suggests why Mencken was to a whole generation of American youth not just a witty newspaperman with a dazzling style but a force gleefully battering America's deep-rooted Puritan inhibitions. An early champion of Sinclair Lewis, Eugene O'Neill, and Theodore Dreiser, Mencken ridiculed America's institutions, from Rotary Clubs to Harvard professors to the Senate. Sometimes wrongheaded in his judgments, he was unschooled but self-educated in music and politics. His views are sometimes racist and sexist, but they're seldom dull and-in an age of self-conscious "niceness"-never polite. Well worth dipping into.-Charles C. Nash, Cottey Coll., Nevada, Mo.
Gilbert Taylor Following My Life as Author and Editor" (1993) and Fred Hobson's biography , the Menckenian revival continues apace with this sparkling successor to the first chrestomathy, which was a best-seller in 1949. More than an anthology, the second volume represents pieces (some previously unpublished) that Mencken himself selected and revised before his stroke aborted the project; another proposal to publish came to nought in 1963. Over 60 percent of the 238 items, many from Mencken's magazines Smart Set" and American Mercury", are not available elsewhere, which in itself makes the publication of this title something of a literary event. That it parades again the sage of Baltimore in his incisive, if often irksome, eloquence only confirms him as one of the better belletrists of the century. The job of discriminator of taste exists to be seized in any age, and in the teens and twenties, Mencken extolled and excoriated with idiosyncratic abandon. The books and music he reviewed have faded from memory, but his satirical exfoliations remain fresh, for example, in praise of a bartender's memoir of the bibulous arts or in contempt for a Rotarian's history of his organization. Edited by New York critic Terry Teachout, who is preparing his own biography of the provocateur, this entertaining, exasperating collection captures Mencken's gloomy view of human nature and his bright delight in stripping from it all cant and concealment.
Henry Louis "H.L." Mencken became one of the most influential and prolific journalists in America in the 1920s and '30s, writing about all the shams and con artists in the world. He attacked chiropractors and the Ku Klux Klan, politicians and other journalists. Most of all, he attacked Puritan morality. He called Puritanism, "the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy."
At the height of his career, he edited and wrote for The American Mercury magazine and the Baltimore Sun newspaper, wrote a nationally syndicated newspaper column for the Chicago Tribune, and published two or three books every year. His masterpiece was one of the few books he wrote about something he loved, a book called The American Language (1919), a history and collection of American vernacular speech. It included a translation of the Declaration of Independence into American English that began, "When things get so balled up that the people of a country got to cut loose from some other country, and go it on their own hook, without asking no permission from nobody, excepting maybe God Almighty, then they ought to let everybody know why they done it, so that everybody can see they are not trying to put nothing over on nobody."
When asked what he would like for an epitaph, Mencken wrote, "If, after I depart this vale, you ever remember me and have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner and wink your eye at some homely girl."
This morning I wrote a singularly catchy tune entitled I think I left my radio on this morning.
After about an hour straight of continually singing the song my office cubicle mate reminded me that I did not own a radio, so I then proceeded to head down to the men's locker room in order to (1) brush my teeth with toothpaste, (2) floss my teeth, (3) brush my teeth with raw baking soda, (4) brush my teeth, again, with toothpaste, and to finally (5) swirl and rinse my mouth out with mouthwash.
So now I'm in the work environment singing a singularly catchy tune that I wrote entitled I just brushed the fuck out of my teeth.
My political science professor recommended Mencken to me. Figured I’d like it. Not sure if enjoyed it, in all honesty. But it definitely had me thinking, and thinking, and thinking.
I read this as part of my exploration of “the great cynics” at the turn of the millennium, the others being Ambrose Bierce and Jonathan Swift. Mencken was the one I knew the least about going in, and I started with this “second” Chrestomathy because it happened to be easily found at Shakespeare & Co.
Mencken will not disappoint anyone looking for cynical writing, and so far as I can tell the “second” Chrestomathy is as good a place to start as any. “Chrestomathy” was a word Mencken appears to have invented for the first anthology of his work. This one was never published in his lifetime, although most of the work for a followup volume had been prepared and was found in his collected writings not long after his death. The editor has organized them thematically and written an extensive introduction for the book, but otherwise allows Mencken to speak for himself.
Few people will agree with all of Mencken’s opinions, but many educated people will agree with some of his sentiments against stupidity in American culture. More importantly, whether you agree or not, it is a pleasure to enjoy the wit and skill with which he demolishes sacred cows and comments on various aspects of contemporary life. He loves Chekov and Nietzsche, but hates Sinclair Lewis and Robert Louis Stevenson. He prizes education but hates teachers. He mocks Christianity and especially the Salvation Army, but despises religious intolerance with equal vehemence. He rarely finds praiseworthy respect in women, but criticizes men who try to do without their company. Although he did revise many of these essays to remove specific references to contemporary figures and ephemeral issues, a familiarity with the history of the early twentieth century will help to contextualize many of the essays.
In short, this book is worth the time for people interested in Mencken, and probably outside the grasp of those who are not.
A wonderfully entertaining, irreverent, and beautifully-written selection of essays, but also a fascinating trip back to the 1920s through the eyes of a Bourbon Democrat on the eve of that breed's extinction. Fun to read alongside the work of Frank Kent -- Mencken's Baltimore Sun colleague and ideological sympathizer.