H.L. Mencken
was a stylish writer – up to a point – but he clearly never knew
what he was talking about. He put Franklin Delano Roosevelt and
Winston Churchill under the same rubric as Stalin, Mussolini and
Hitler, calling them all "transparent quacks" and demagogues.
As a critic Mencken had poor taste and worse judgment:
he hated jazz and was utterly incapable of appreciating modernism
in literature or the visual arts. Worst of all, he was a terrible
human being, full of prejudice and ambition. A racist, an anti-Semite,
reviler of democracy and a boor - Mencken was all that and more.
But, yes, he could write reasonably well.
That’s the
Capuchin Mencken, the Mencken of the neoconservatives. Like the
organ-grinder’s
monkey, this Mencken is a parody of a human being and little
more than a sideshow to the fellow cranking out the music, or
in this case, cranking out the party line. Mencken is so far removed
from that party line, so politically incorrect even to those who
think of themselves as opponents of p.c., that his critics (especially
those on the putative Right) can hardly take him seriously.
Reviews of
Terry Teachout’s recent biography of Mencken, The Skeptic,
have been a case in point. My own thoughts on the book can be
found in the current issue of the American Conservative
(March 24, 2003 – with Pat Buchanan’s important essay "Whose
War?" on the cover), so I won’t elaborate upon them here.
Instead, however, I’ll call attention to what other reviewers
have said, and how they have generally marginalized Mencken in
the same way.
A good place
to begin is with Russell
Baker’s piece from the New York Review of Books. It’s
one of the better and more detailed reviews, and one relatively
even-handed in its treatment of Mencken. At least it doesn’t make
him out to be a monster or a total buffoon. Baker instead simply
discounts Mencken’s beliefs and emphasizes the indisputable quality
of his style. So, for example, Baker writes, "Though [Mencken’s]
political pieces sometimes seem repetitious and occasionally silly,
much in them is still a pleasure to read for the quality, even
the beauty, of the prose." And after quoting a few lines
from Mencken, Baker writes:
This paragraph
adds nothing to our grasp of political philosophy, but wouldn't
we feel blessed nowadays to have even one solitary journalist
capable of subjecting the world's Bushes and Gores, Cheneys
and Liebermans to frankly prejudiced prose as gorgeous as this?
This is fair
enough; one would never expect to find the New York Review
of Books endorsing political views like Mencken’s anyway,
no matter how rigorously or systematically they may have been
laid out. Mencken certainly wasn’t systematic and had never intended
to be, in any event. A
review in the Atlantic by the Washington Post’s
Jonathan Yardley makes that very point: "Mencken's ‘conservatism’
was more a state of mind than an ideology. It had, and has, little
in common with what now passes for conservatism, and diehard ideologues
of that persuasion will find small comfort in his claim that he
was "constitutionally unable to believe in anything absolutely."
Yardley’s review, in fact, is excellent; he notes that he himself
had been planning to write a Mencken at one point, but never got
around to it. It’s a shame, because Yardley evidently has both
enthusiasm for Mencken – although not uncritical enthusiasm
– and an insightful appreciation for his literary and critical
accomplishments.
But then
there are, as Yardley says, those diehard ideologues now passing
for conservatives. Enter Hilton Kramer and his
New Criterion essay, "Who Reads Mencken Now?"
Kramer’s answer to his own question is: virtually no one. But
this, he suggests, is not to be lamented, for Mencken possessed
"a philistine outlook" and his work was "thin in
intellectual substance and woefully lacking in a sense of history."
Kramer elaborates:
What really
separates us now from Mencken’s eager acolytes in the 1920s
– and, for that matter, from Mencken himself – are precisely
the horrors as well as the achievements of the twentieth century
that he missed or dismissed or otherwise chose to regard as
beneath serious notice. Among them, alas, were the two World
Wars, the Leninist revolution and the spread of Communist totalitarianism,
Hitler’s rise to power and the Nazi conquest of Western Europe,
the Holocaust, and virtually all of the principal currents of
modern thought in literature, philosophy, and the arts. While
he busied himself demolishing the pretensions of yahoo preachers,
Rotarians, prohibitionists, and sundry writers and public figures
with little claim on the attention of posterity, Mencken remained
cheerfully oblivious to the political and cultural earthquakes
that were irreversibly altering the very civilization he claimed
to represent. That, I believe, is the fundamental reason why
Mencken is so little read today.
And lest
it seem as though Mencken’s sin was borne of ignorance and perhaps
only venial, Kramer concludes by asserting that
He is now
too much of a period piece to be revivable. And the really ugly
aspects of Mencken’s mentality – the vicious anti-Semitism,
the total identification with German superiority and moral authority
even in the face of Hitler’s criminality, and his unflagging
contempt for democratic institutions in a period when fascism
and communism loomed as the leading alternatives – all of this,
combined with a cocksure confidence in his own virtue, is finally
unforgivable.
Mencken was
no supporter of Hitler, and even Kramer doesn’t dare suggest that
he was, but his love of German culture and his contempt for mass
democracy are bad enough. Unforgivable, in fact.
As it happens,
even Hilton Kramer’s own readers were not prepared to accept this.
Two
letters in response to the article are published on the journal’s
website, each refuting the notion that Mencken isn’t much read
today (and, implicitly, the notion that he shouldn’t be read).
The one letter points to the fairly high ranking of the Mencken
Chrestomathy on the Amazon.com sales chart, and asks how well
Mencken’s contemporary peers are selling (answer: not nearly as
well). The other suggests to Kramer that "Generation X"
is reading Mencken, and finds in him a kindred spirit. This second
letter, by Scott Locklin, is worth quoting in part:
As far
as Mencken's various political ideas (his alleged "vicious
anti-Semitism" is too absurd to bother refuting; c.f. Alfred
Knopf's comments) Mencken was no political proselytizer; that's
one of the things which makes him so refreshing. He was a critic.
If he had ideas contrary to modern felicity, so did most of
the people who made their livings as actual political rabble-rousers
in his day. Nobody seems to fault GBS for his actual fawnings
over Mussolini and Stalin (which have no parallel in any of
Mencken's writings). I don't see how this and similar ethical
torts of the intelligentsia of that day could be considered
acceptable when Mencken's mere elitist libertarianism "is
. . . unforgivable."
One suspects,
of course, that that’s the real point: elitist libertarianism
is precisely what Kramer finds unacceptable. Russell Baker can
afford simply to pooh-pooh Mencken’s politics but Kramer has to
worry about the ideological competition; he has to draw a firm
line and declare Mencken completely out-of-bounds. Atheism is
one thing, but preaching the virtues of the Germans and disbelief
in "democracy" is a real heresy, one well deserving
of harsh punishment.
Kramer is
the most forceful of Mencken’s critics on the Right, but he’s
hardly alone. Others include, surprisingly or not, R. Emmett Tyrrell
Jr., founder and editor of the American Spectator, and
a man who has made a career out of aping Mencken’s prose (Tyrell
cites approvingly Paul Greenberg’s description of Tyrrell himself
as "the closest that 1995 America can come to its own H.L.
Mencken"). Tyrrell wrote the cover story for the November/December
2002 American Spectator, a piece called "The Dark
Sage: Reconsidering H.L. Mencken." For the most part, Tyrrell
is simply dismissive of Mencken as a thinker: "while Mencken
was laughing on the outside, almost nothing was going on on the
inside"; "when he endeavored to pronounce authoritatively
on great events, he usually spoke from ignorance"; "there
was actually less to him than met the eye"; "He missed
every art movement of his time save American fiction’s realists.
He also missed the rise and fall of dictatorships." That
last is especially significant; for Tyrrell, Mencken was "as
oblivious to the drama of evil’s rise and fall in his lifetime
as he was to the irenic force of American democracy."
For Tyrrell
no less than for Kramer, it is Mencken’s rejection of democracy
that marks him out as a defective thinker, and indeed a defective
human being. Tyrrell the imitator of Mencken’s style prefers the
democratic socialist politics of Sidney
Hook to the Mencken’s
libertarianism; as Tyrrell says, "Had Mencken shared
Sidney’s belief in democracy he might have made greater contributions
to the life of the mind." At issue here is not that Tyrrell
simply disagrees with or doesn’t accept Mencken’s beliefs, but
that Mencken’s rejection of democracy proves him to be a fool,
just as for Kramer Mencken’s politically incorrect attitude toward
democracy proves him to be a villain. Mencken’s rejection of democracy
is illegitimate.
There are
a great many valid criticisms that can be leveled against Mencken
the thinker, but the sorts of criticisms that come from Kramer
and Tyrrell are ideological rather than intellectual. He was no
idiot, and if he was not a systematic or particularly academic
thinker, it’s nonetheless worth remembering that he was at root
a journalist. As such he was no more dense than his contemporary
colleagues, and indeed he outshone more than a few academics,
as proven by his pioneering study The
American Language. But really Mencken’s intelligence is
not in any doubt. It’s his judgment, taste and conscious beliefs
that have put him beyond the pale of acceptable opinion today,
even – or especially – in "conservative" circles.
If Mencken
were alive today, who would publish him? For all the acknowledged
power of his style, Mencken’s politics wouldn’t make the grade
for the New Criterion or the American Spectator,
or presumably any of the other major (neo)conservative publications
that toe the same line. The Left would, by and large, have nothing
to do with such a man either, and even many libertarians would
balk at him (and he, who styled himself a Kaiserliche-Konigliche
Tory, would no doubt have had little use for the average "modal"
libertarian). It’s hard to imagine Mencken making a monkey out
of himself for anybody, but with the political spectrum as constricted
and muddied as it is today, what’s left? The American Conservative,
for one thing, whose co-editor Taki Theodoracopulos has more than
a little of what Mencken had – Taki once wondered in print why
the vote of a doctor who saves lives should count for exactly
as much as a welfare bum who does nothing. Of course, there is
also at least one other place where Mencken would certainly fit
right in, someplace rather close to home. There might be rather
few people now who can appreciate Mencken for both his style and
his thought, but one suspects that Mencken, inveterate foe of
the booboisie and the simian masses, would have liked it that
way.