Thomas Wolfe (1900-1938) is beyond all comparison, so far as his tall stature, overflowing vitality, all-reproducing recollectiveness and gigantic writing-power are concerned. He is a symbol of American grandeur and exuberance. His artistic superiority lies in that he wrote in accordance with his inmost hunger, neither flattering to the populace, nor sacrificing principle for the sake of money. Despising the 'escape-from-life' school of art, which is, as he believed, a common defect of modern literature, he continued to his untimely death to report all he had experienced with romantic expressions and poetical utterances, until he set up a unique kind of literature rather belonging to the art-for-life's-sake' school. Chief characteristics of his four great novels, Look Homeward, Angel (1929), Of Time and the River (1935), The Web and the Rock (1939) and You Can't Go Home Again (1940), are as follows: (1) 'Torrential recollectiveness' with which he records all the happenings in his life and heart as minutely as a series of miniatures; (2) the definitely autobiographical quality permeating all his works, their heroes, Eugene Gant or George Webber, being Thomas Wolfe himself all the same; (3) his Titanic ambition to re-discover America and to create a decisively American tradition in the domain of literary language. Feeling himself at first to be a stranger to the vast space of ghostless American continent and its millions of people who are restless in their constant motion and whose outlook on the world is materialistic and practical, he never ceased to wander-the picture of Hunger and Thirst-wander far away often to Europe and back to the New World, in order to find 'a stone, a leaf, an unfound door,' namely, the fundamental significance and patriarchal authority of Soul. Whenever he arrived at London, Paris or Berlin, he rather began to think of his native land he had just 'escaped from. Thus in foreign lands his MSS. were bulkily produced by his memory of America. The whole of his works may be called a Homeric epic confessing that he could not help falling in love with America after all his wanderings,-a long rhapsody of recognition of American life and psyche,-or a kaleidoscopic chronicle of a grand-scale 'love-affair. with American continent.' Ten years after he died his admirers became numerous and some of his novels best-sellers. It is no wonder that he won popularity at last, for readers must have found in Thomas Wolfe a stalwart and primordial spokesman of American democracy and humanism, and his ambition to discover and command 'perfect language' capable of creating tradition of American literature has been achieved by that style of his which is called 'the magnificent prose of our time.'
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