Splendor
Splendor is the life story of Henry Beeker, his boyhod, his struggles and failures in his profession, his home life as husband, brother, and father, his friends, his era, his city, in fact, his world. Most of all it is the story of his ambitions. These are first for himself, and then, as his dream structure falls about him like a house of cards, they are transferred to ambition for his children. "It is always easier for Henry to look ahead," said his wife. Hence the title Splendor.
Born in the decade following the Civil War, Henry came to maturity during the "Gay Nineties." But the treatment of this period by the author is far from flippant; he is not seeking to be either satirical or smart. The reader knows the temper of the period through a background, national in scope; for example, the nomination of Bryan, as pictured by a newspaper man who covered the 1896 convention; the Spanish-American War; the enthusiasm for Colonel Roosevelt. Changes in transportation from the bicycle to the motor car in a sense symbolize the changes in the epoch. As transportation gains in rapidity, the narrative hurries on to the World War and post war periods.
The locale is for the most part Boston, too seldom since Howell's time the scene of works of fiction. We can do with less of the smoky town of the industrial Middle West and of the "great open spaces." It follows the Boston of the West End (Henry's childhood) to Newspaper Row, with its smelly city editor's rooms and the little lunch counters of "Pie Alley," before the 18th Amendment; to a South End boarding house, to the suburbs, first Brighton, then Newton Center; with interludes enacted under the gilded dome of Beacon Hill, with its game of politics and personalities. A brief visit to Detroit, and to Hanover, for his son's graduation in 1916, are the only occasions when we follow Henry from the Hub.
Splendor is not only the story of an epoch and of a definite, vivid locality, it is the story of the profession of journalism and of a man's devotion to it. Beeker's career on The Tribune is a perfect circle: office boy, in the reference department, reporter, ("on the street") makeup man, political writer, "on the hill") back to the office, even back to the reference library to clip newspapers 'till too old or too feeble to remain on the staff.
Something of the vision and enthusiasm that the profession of journalism begets, is revealed to the reader through Henry. We see its pettiness, its ruthlessness, side by side with its great ambition to tell the truth. We see changes in the profession as new mechanical inventions, and new interests in the reading public come with the new century. Henry Beeker is a perfect mirror of his job. Again, the wife. "You're always * * * planning what you're going to do, and then not satisfied when you've done it, but trying something else."
A wealth of characters, almost Dickinsonian in abundance, pass in and out through the leisurely narrative. There are Henry's parents and a boyhood friend, Sam Russell; the men of the newspaper world, in great variety, some little more than types, two, Ben Harris and Dave Pell are more—, the wife, Shirley, a perfect foil for Beeker; her father Clem; and the growing children Dan and Cynthia, engaging as tots, and distinctively of the new era as they grow to maturity, go to college and establish homes of their own to carry on where Henry has failed. Upon Mary Beeker, Henry's motherly sister, Mr. Williams has lavished much care. She is often pathetic, occasionally humorus, always human, in spite of her repression and narrow outlook.
The material of the plot is life: birth, death, daily toil, loyalties, ambitions, many realized, more frustrated. There is little suspense and no melodrama. Dave Pell says about his novel in encouraging Henry to write: "I want to get down on paper a picture of life first, Henry. Then if I have to, I can put in more of a story." This, too, is Mr. Williams' credo. Though there is so little action other than the passing events of the home and professional life of the leading character, the narrative never lags, never is dull through its almost 600 pages.
Perhaps the source of greatest interest in Splendor to Dartmouth Alumni is in the fact that the author is a 1910 man. Here and there through the story there are brief mentions of the college, its victories in athletics, etc. Henry's son Dan is fired with ambition to study at Hanover and this is realized. The visit of the family to Hanover for Dan's Commencement is handled most realistically and the college and community are seen to advantage through the eyes of the visitors. We may agree with the critics who feel that the story is a fine advertisement for Dartmouth. Several Dartmouth men as"Mr. Powers of Newton," Samuel W. McCall, are named, and Mr. Herrick, (a fictitious character, father of Dan Beeker's roommate and fiance) might have been suggested to Mr. Williams by some Dartmouth Alumni of the Boston Bar, say Alfred Hall, or "Mel" Adams, or half a score of others.
Splendor is listed among the best sellers. It is a good sign that so true and wholesome a picture of American life is finding a wide circle of readers. Not a little of this success is due to the clearly conceived plot and dignified straightforward style. An allusion in the course of the narrative to Silas Lapham invites comparison with Howells. Here and there, in the successful use of accumulated details which crowd the canvass, we are reminded of Arnold Bennett at his best. We need books like Splendor, serious interpretations of the late 19th Century, to aid us in getting a running start for our race through the complexities of the 20th. H. B. PRESTON '05.
