The Shores of Light: A Literary Chronicle of the Twenties and Thirties

by Edmund Wilson

Edmund Wilson referred to this collection of his writings as both “a general history of the culture of a recklessly unspecialized era, when minds and imaginations were exploring in all directions” and “a sort of volume of literary memoirs.” The book presents an intimate and discerning view of a lively period of arts and letters. Included are essays on F. Scott Fitzgerald, T.S. Eliot, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Christian Gauss, Sherwood Anderson, and Gertrude Stein as well as personal impressions, sketches of life in the twenties, letters, and pieces on the classics.

Genres: Essays, Literary Criticism, Nonfiction, Criticism, Books About Books, Literature, 20th Century

814 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1952

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database. See also physicist Edmund Wilson.

Edmund Wilson Jr. was a towering figure in 20th-century American literary criticism, known for his expansive intellect, stylistic clarity, and commitment to serious literary and political engagement. Over a prolific career, Wilson wrote for Vanity Fair, The New Republic, The New Yorker, and The New York Review of Books, shaping the critical conversation on literature, politics, and culture. His major critical works—such as Axel's Castle and Patriotic Gore—combined literary analysis with historical insight, and he ventured boldly into subjects typically reserved for academic specialists, including the Dead Sea Scrolls, Native American cultures, and the American Civil War.
Wilson was also the author of fiction, memoirs, and plays, though his influence rested most strongly on his literary essays and political writing. He was instrumental in promoting the reputations of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, Vladimir Nabokov, and many others. Despite his friendships with several of these authors, his criticism could be unflinching, even scathing—as seen in his public dismissal of H. P. Lovecraft and J. R. R. Tolkien. His combative literary style often drew attention, and his exacting standards for writing, along with his distaste for popular or commercial literature, placed him in a tradition of high-minded literary seriousness.
Beyond the realm of letters, Wilson was politically active, aligning himself at times with socialist ideals and vocally opposing Cold War policies and the Vietnam War. His principled refusal to pay income tax in protest of U.S. militarization led to a legal battle and a widely read protest book.
Wilson was married four times and had several significant personal and intellectual relationships, including with Fitzgerald and Nabokov. He also advocated for the preservation and celebration of American literary heritage, a vision realized in the creation of the Library of America after his death. For his contributions to American letters, Wilson received multiple honors, including the Presidential Medal of Freedom. His legacy endures through his extensive body of work, which remains a touchstone for literary scholars and general readers alike.

Reviews

[Jonfaith · Rating 4 out of 5]

The title is from Virgil. The text itself is comprised of Wilson’s reviews, letters and creative writing. It was his intention to depict the literary landscape of the 1920s and 1930s.

Pause for a moment, please, and acknowledge the requisite hubris in that objective.

The tome is bracketed by large memorial pieces, one on Christian Gauss—his mentor at Princeton—and the concluding homage to Edna St. Vincent Millay. These are easily the peaks of the collection. Much like collected essays of Pound or Eliot, there is a tendency to redundancy, exacerbated, unfortunately, if the author or work has slipped into obscurity.

Wilson acknowledges that his attention to literature in the 1930s were limited by his growing interest in Marxist thought and history. Thankfully that distraction is only modestly represented. Normally an eight hundred page collection of criticism would inspire rabid pursuit of highlighted authors. That wasn’t the case here. When Bunny raved about Thornton Wilder I just valued my appreciation for Balzac and Faulkner.

[Janelle V. Dvorak]

I have a very hard time being too critical of Edmund Wilson as a writer and critic. While I may not agree with him sometimes, I was first sucked into the world of literary criticism plus politics when I read his To the Finland Station/.

[Jim Leckband · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very long compilation of Wilson's essays in the New Republic from the twenties and thirties. It fascinated me with the at the time judgments and criticisms that were later to be spot on and sometimes rather off. For instance, he gets Fitzgerald right even before The Great Gatsby but fails to be excited about Robert Frost, Wallace Stevens, E.E. Cummings etc. Some of this is partly due to the personal nature of his relationships - he knew Fitzgerald but probably did not have anything to do with Stevens.

In addition to the literary criticism, Wilson was fascinated by the Soviet Union and Communism, which resulted in To the Finland Station. There are several fascinating essays about the rise of Leninism and the attraction of Communism to the left in the thirties. Wilson was not fooled at all by Stalin, unlike like a lot of his contemporaries. He saw he was a thug from the beginning and everything just about follows from that - and this was even without a lot of the information of the purges and famines that the Western world later knew.

Wilson includes a lot of criticism about contemporary critics - this gets awfully old awfully quick. Pages about Van Wyck Brooks can be safely flipped through without much concern of missing anything. The main interest is his astute criticisms of contemporaties such as F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway and Thornton Wilder. For instance he castigates Wilder for setting his work in times and places other than the United States right now - and this is before his masterpiece Our Town. However Wilson's personal vision is hampered in his consideration of Edna St. Vincent Millay, I get the sense that his estimation of her poetry is too mixed up with his deep infatuation with the poet. That being said, his eulogy at the end for Millay was very humane and touching.

[J. Alfred · Rating 3 out of 5]

Edmund Wilson is a genius and a dude who is very concerned about the political and literary situation of his day (20s and 30s, in this case). He also didn't have hindsight. So the people who recur most in this book are Thornton Wilder, mainly for books that no one reads any more, and Edna St Vincent Millay, who, I imagine, no one reads any more period. (Wilson had a romantic relationship with Millay. These things affect the judgement, you know.)
But he is readable and mostly interesting, even on topics you didn't know you cared about. Houdini? What are you doing in here? Sure, whatever!

[Greg · Rating 5 out of 5]

Utterly fantastic.

[Matt Hayes · Rating 5 out of 5]

The gold standard for literary essays. How powerful language can be when an author understands his own meaning perfectly. Also a great insight into 1920s literature and culture. 9/10.

[Liz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Okay, I am cheating saying I read this book. I specifically read the last chapter, "Epilogue, 1952: Edna St. Vincent Millay" (p 806-860) because it was cited in "What Lips My Lips Have Kissed" as the source of information on a threesome that Vincent, Edmund, and their friend John Bishop (who is mentioned repeatedly in the chapter and can be subtextually read as gay).

The chapter doesn't actually mention anything about a threesome, so I will have to look for a different source.

But I really did like Wilson's thoughts on Vincent--they had been friends and lovers in the 1920s--but whose friendship had lapsed when Vincent had married and moved to Steepletop. Note, that it's not *because* she was married, but because of her new reclusiveness that their friendship lapsed. He paints two different portaits of Millay--young and vibrant Vincent and nervous and middle-aged nervous and dowdy Edna.

Also, based on my readings on Vincent, I'm not a fan of her husband Eugen Boissevain. It's like everyone who talks about him is talking around something. That it's his presence that changed Vincent. I don't have any textual proof, just vibes.

I would read more chapters of "Shores of Light," to learn more about the time-period and the persons at the center of Greenwich Village culture of the twenties. But not anytime soon. I've got other reading I'm prioritizing right now.

[Nicole C. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Edmund Wilson was prolific, to be sure. This is a rather long book, collecting essays he wrote for New Republic, Vanity Fair, and quite a few other publications during the 1920s and 30s. Most of these are literary criticism, although there are some political and theatre essays, as well. The final piece is a tribute to poet Edna St. Vincent Millay, whom he knew personally.

It's interesting to see what he got "right, " as in, who withstood the test of time and is still read widely today (Hemingway, Fitzgerald) and those who fell off the radar (do people read Dos Passos anymore?) I like that he did go back and add footnotes to some items to reflect the passage of time and a mind changed.

Wilson has a very readable style, so I ended up reading all of this, even essays about folks I wasn't particularly interested in.

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

Finishes wonderfully with the authors poignant memories of Edna St. Vincent Millay.

[Erika Robuck · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you truly want to go inside of the 20s and 30s from the perspective of everyone's "frienemy", read this. Wilson's tribute to Millay in the final essay is the most beautiful eulogy I've read.

[Ellen]

As seen on Sadybusiness.