Prejudices, first series — Background and Themes

The Rhetoric of Dismissal

Mencken’s critical method relies on a distinctive rhetorical pattern: he first establishes a writer’s pretensions, then undercuts them with a concrete, often absurd, detail. In his essay on Hamlin Garland, he notes Garland’s claim to the 'scientific method' in investigating spiritualism, only to quote Garland’s hopeful remark, 'I hope they will,' about scientists proving spooks exist. The contrast between the professed skepticism and the revealed credulity is the entire argument. Similarly, he dismisses Henry Sydnor Harrison’s novels as '100,000 word Christmas cards' and 'huge gum-drops for fat women to snuffle over.' The metaphors are deliberately vulgar, reducing the work to a commodity for a sentimental audience. This technique—elevating the target’s self-image, then collapsing it with a bathetic image—recurs throughout the collection. It gives the prose a rhythmic punch, as Mencken builds tension only to release it in a sneer.

Shifts in Pace and Register

The essays vary markedly in tempo. In 'Criticism of Criticism of Criticism,' Mencken moves slowly, building a theoretical framework with long, clause-heavy sentences. But when he turns to individual authors, the pace quickens. The Garland essay, for instance, begins with a measured account of the writer’s career, then accelerates into a series of vivid, mocking vignettes: the haunted chamber, the locked pianos, the 'coarse, transcendental humor' of spirits. The shift from analysis to anecdote creates a sense of acceleration, as if Mencken is impatient to deliver the kill. Elsewhere, as in the Harrison section, he dispenses with buildup entirely, launching straight into comparison with W. J. Locke and a verdict of 'sentimental bosh.' These changes in pace are not arbitrary; they reflect Mencken’s judgment of the target’s seriousness. A writer he respects (like Veblen) receives sustained argument; a writer he disdains gets swift demolition.

Recurring Verbal Motifs

Certain words and phrases recur across the essays, forming a kind of critical shorthand. Mencken frequently uses 'balderdash,' 'bosh,' and 'gum-drops' to dismiss works he considers trivial. He also employs a vocabulary of mechanical failure: 'faulty compasses,' 'steering by faulty compasses,' 'paths too steep and rocky.' These images suggest a world where artists are perpetually misdirected, lacking the 'confident gusto' of true creators. Another motif is the contrast between 'evangelical' fervor and genuine artistry. Garland, Mencken writes, had 'the enthusiasm of the pedagogue, the desire to yank the world up to the soaring Methodist level.' The religious metaphor recurs in the Harrison essay, where the novels are called 'Christmas cards.' This lexical patterning gives the collection a cohesive texture, even as the subjects vary. Mencken’s vocabulary is both a weapon and a signature, marking each essay as unmistakably his own.

Readers approaching Prejudices, First Series should attend to the way Mencken’s voice modulates between essays. The collection is not a unified argument but a series of performances, each calibrated to its subject. Pay attention to the metaphors: they often carry the weight of the critique. And note where Mencken slows down—those passages usually signal a target he takes seriously, even if he ultimately rejects them. The book rewards a reader willing to track its shifts in tone and pace.

I remember first opening Prejudices in a quiet library corner, feeling Mencken’s sharp honesty like a hand on my shoulder. It reminded me of the gentle way Life's Minor Collisions — Reading Companion once unpacked my own small embarrassments—not to fix them, just to sit beside them, softly.