The Advocate

Considerable discussion is probably possible on the comparative financial advisability of The Advocate's publishing a second-rate registration issue, as opposed to no registration issue. Discussion of the issue itself is, however, difficult, since there is virtually nothing in it. There are two selections from an unpublished novel by an Advocate Pegasus three years graduated; two poems by William Alfred, whose connection with the magazine is equally tenuous; a free ad for the HDC's 100th production by Steve Aaron; a poem by Junior Jonathan Kozol, and a somewhat unusual biographical reverie by President John Ratte.

The absence of a single piece of complete fiction is ill-concealed by the make-up changes, which feature a slightly smaller page, with single column print plus big margins. The return of the men who ought to be writing for the Advocate will, however, with luck, permit abandoning the new format, since it causes considerable eyestrain and is less than lovely, despite a distinctly attractive typeface.

Ratte is alleged to have put out the entire issue, and whether or not this is true, he has certainly contributed the only things which have any considerable merit: the cover and his study of "Lawrison, Mass." It is too bad that he did not get his board to authorize the promised reply to i.e., which would have filled the vacant spaces and perhaps have aroused slightly more interest than the present production.

Of the material which did appear, only the "Lawrison" piece could be described as successful. In a flat and unpretentious voice Ratte describes a way of life, or the change which it is undergoing. The voice is personal, the viewpoint biographical, and yet the tone is often that of a Dos Passos report to the nation. Perhaps because of the relaxed tone, perhaps because of the form, the reader does not expect any more of the story than he gets. A mood and perhaps an insight are offered, and whether or not this is enough, it is unquestionably all there is or can be in the nature of the piece.

The rest of the issue ranges from not so good to considerably worse. The opening selections from James Chace's novel have more than one grave deficiency. The primary problem is that, as in so many Advocate stories, the reader, when finished, is hard put to attach any significance to his recent adventure. Emotionally, he does not give a damn, and intellectually he is either somnolent or at loose ends. It is perhaps not necessary that prose have a point, but it seems reasonable to demand that it achieve an effect, as Ratte does in the "Lawrison" piece. It also seems reasonable to require that in a piece about two people some coherent picture of these people should emerge.

While these defects may as well be due to unwise dismemberment of a coherent novel, selecting being the tricky business that it is, there are other defects for which no such excuse can be offered. The language is seldom precise and sometimes implausible. Chace writes, for example, "Justin returned to his shaving and tried to change his thoughts by applying alcohol and powder to his skin." Whether or not Justin is a solipsist, the relationship between his facial activity and his mental processes is extremely tenuous. The point is that the eye for detail is not the selective eye achieving an effect on the reader, but the indiscriminate camera throwing together instants unrelated both to each other and to any apparent overall objective. Then, too, there is the jarring alternation between the telegraphic stream of consciousness, a difficult and seldom effective device, and aphoristic reverie and introspection, much of which is more intriguing than comprehensible.

There is little to be said about the rest of the issue, except that anything William Alfred gives The Advocate is not likely to be his best work, and while he is certainly a poet of ability, he has not yet reached the stature of one whose second best work is very much sought after. The poems are, however, readable, if not enjoyable. Kozol's opaque bit, "The Lady's Body," has a peculiar melody, but the content is more a hint than a whole for at least one reader.

Whatever should be said about Steve Aaron's theories on directing Hamlet should not be said in a review of The Advocate. Certainly Hamlet requires a coherent theory of its director, and certainly Aaron has one, whatever its validity. But the rightness or wrongness of the argument in no way compensates for the fact that the tone is incredibly pompous (Aaron is good, but is he so good that he can afford to be pompous?) and that the prose often has a quality which could most adequately be described as best read before dinner. ("The 'soul' of the actor is the hardest thing to find.") Then, too, one wonders whether the piece is educational in intent, or perhaps a defense before the fact.

After the disappointment of the first issue, however, there is hope for better things. If the editors of the magazine can devote a month to a genuine answer to i.e.,--an attempt to answer arguments and dispute tenets rather than an attack on prose style and an attempt to discredit their competitors,--they will have served the community well. If the interlude allows them to collect enough material to fill an issue with material worth reading (not material which is "the best we could get"), an even more valuable service will be rendered.