Epic Breadth and Grandure

THIS is a skeptic age--and such periods have never been conducive to poetry, at least of an epic scale. One can readily see how mediocre verse fits in with the skeptic's view of things--it gives him cause to crab at the age's low level--and how their mutual dependency makes them thrive under such consoling companionship. At the same time, but perhaps not so patently, one may see how great poetry must be irritating to the skeptic. But it certainly consoles those with a larger and deeper philosophy of life. One feels as the one ought to kneel to worship the brave hero who should defy the current cake of though. Someone has said,--"Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread", but I question whether the world should ever have advanced had we never had these so called "fools". A study of historical progress might seem then, according to this thesis, a study of fools in chronological order beginning with Socrates and following through with Erasmus, Copernicus, Bruno, Sir Thomas Moore, Tolstoy, Darwin, and last, but tritely enough, not least, Stephen Vincent Benet.

Materially speaking, his book which has won the recognition of the Book of the Month Club, is twenty-five pages short of the famous four hundred pages, the commonly accepted threshold beyond which boredom may set in on the average reader.

This narrative poem has an indescribable esprit which savors of an epic tempered by modern interpretation. If one can get through the rather vague invocation, the remainder of the poem really pulls one on. Stephen Benet has charmingly combined a uniquely modern and sincere patriotism with an equally rare sense of proportion. Yet throughout the course of events which he vividly depicts--here in minute detail--there is sweeping epic style--and here again with a touch of human sympathy--one finds that justice has been a main chord. South and North, each has its turn--probably the reason both these sections of our country have acclaimed the book as a classic. A striking feature is the manner in which Benet handles such a wide field. One might say the war is dealt with in terms of various imaginary individuals and their reactions. This lends that personal touch which serves equally well as a main, solemn connecting thread through out the story and as a gripping bond with the reader. With all the many complications which might easily arise under the scope of such a colossal task, the reader never feels lost or bewilderd. The delineation's of the actual characters of the Civil War which Benet draws are superbly real. They glow with the intense fire of humanity and the heat from them makes every word sparkle with the sheer reality that at last a poet, using a medium of great poetry and not prose gone mad, has accomplished an enthralling tale of an always peculiarly fascinating war.