What do you think?
Rate this book


156 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1967
…is it not worth bearing in mind that any truism, once in a while, yields a kernel of truth?
All statistics, all work that is merely descriptive or informative, imply the ambitious and perhaps groundless hope that in the incalculable future men like us, but with clearer minds, will infer from the data that we leave them some useful conclusion or some hidden truth.
A sober jacket in a rich range of colors, a reconstruction of the author’s face by Identikit, title by the publisher himself, typography by Bodoni & Co., text on the whole true to the manuscript – in plain fact, the book was a smash!
The date, A.D. July 30, 1923. The outcome was entirely predictable: a frontal attack by the Ultraists, the yawning neglect of the common herd of reviewers, one or two inconsequential notices, and, in conclusion, the prescribed dinner in the unpretentious Hotel Marconi on the near Westside.
Paladion’s methodology has been the subject of numerous critical monographs and doctoral theses, making any new discussion here superfluous. Let us concern ourselves, however, with a few main points. The key has been given us, once and for all, in Farrel du Bosc’s authoritative study The Paladion-Pound-Eliot Line (Paris: Vida de Ch. Bouret, 1937). As du Bosc has stated definitively, quoting the words of literary critic Myriam Powell-Paul Fort, it is a case of “amplification of units.” Before and after Paladion, the literary unit that writers took from the common tradition was the word, or at most, the stock phrase...a copious fragment from the Odyssey opens one of Pound’s Cantos, and it is a well known fact that the work of T. S. Eliot admits lines from Goldsmith, from Baudelaire, and from Verlaine. But Paladion, in 1909, had already gone further. He annexed, so to speak, a complete opus, Herrera y Reissing’s The Abondoned Parks .
….the delicate scruples and unswerving rigor that Paladion always brought to the arduous task of poetic creation…
The two women are engaged in a hardfought competition, resolved by the administration of massive doses of cyanide in a spine-tingling scene that Herrera elaborated with the patience of an ant, and that, naturally, he left out. Another unforgettable cameo [the arsenic was unnecessary]…This scene, which crowns the novel, had been planned by Herrera with an excessive array of details, but, so as not to have to leave it out, he never actually wrote it.