The Merry-Go-Round — Reading Notes

Diction and the Art of the Provocative Aside

Van Vechten’s prose is studded with pointed asides and epigrammatic judgments. In “In Defence of Bad Taste,” he writes that “nothing clings so ill to the back as borrowed finery,” a metaphor that extends his argument about authenticity in domestic taste to broader questions of cultural borrowing. His vocabulary is precise and often ironic: he refers to “the household decorator” as “an important factor in domestic life,” the word important carrying a faint sneer. Similarly, in the dialogue about George Moore, he reports Moore’s claim that “one cannot imagine landscapes; one does not know whether there is a high or low horizon,” a remark that reveals Van Vechten’s interest in the concrete details of artistic creation. The author’s own voice emerges through these sharp, quotable lines, which serve as both argument and entertainment.

Conversational Structure and Embedded Dialogue

The collection’s structure is notably varied: several essays adopt a conversational frame, with the narrator recounting discussions with friends. In “An Interrupted Conversation,” the bulk of the text is a reported dialogue between the narrator and a character named Sitgreaves, interspersed with brief descriptive passages. This technique allows Van Vechten to present multiple viewpoints without committing to a single thesis. The dialogue is lively and specific—Sitgreaves declares that George Moore’s “great achievements are his memoirs,” while the narrator counters that Moore insists Hail and Farewell “is a novel.” The interruptions, such as the arrival of Marcel the concierge, inject a theatrical quality. Van Vechten uses these structural choices to blur the line between essay and fiction, creating a sense of immediacy and intellectual play.

Recurring Motifs: Paris, Art, and the Artist’s Life

Paris appears as a recurring setting and subject. The essay “Au Bal Musette” evokes a working-class dance hall, while “An Interrupted Conversation” is set in a Paris hotel where the narrator and Sitgreaves await “la petite Polonaise.” The city functions as a backdrop for discussions of art and taste. Van Vechten’s descriptions are sensory but restrained: the concierge Marcel stands “his apron spread neatly over his ample paunch,” and the room has “red curtains and the picture of Cupid and Psyche.” These details ground the intellectual talk in a tangible world. The author also returns to the theme of the artist’s relationship to his material: Moore’s need to visit Palestine to write The Brook Kerith is presented as a practical necessity, not a romantic quest. This emphasis on the concrete conditions of artistic production runs through the collection.

Voice and the Performance of Criticism

Van Vechten’s critical voice is deliberately performative. He adopts a persona of the sophisticated, slightly cynical observer. In “In Defence of Bad Taste,” he asks, “Why could not some similar plan of appreciation be followed in the houses of our very rich?”—the question is rhetorical, designed to expose hypocrisy. His judgments are delivered with confidence: he calls a remark by Sitgreaves “delightedly” agreed with, and he reports Moore’s fury at having Hail and Farewell called a memoir. The author does not hide his own preferences; he aligns himself with Moore’s view that selection and form distinguish art from mere reportage. This self-aware performance of taste is central to the book’s method. Van Vechten is not a neutral critic but a character in his own essays, and his voice—urbane, opinionated, playful—is the thread that holds the disparate pieces together.

Readers approaching The Merry-Go-Round will find a work that rewards attention to its stylistic surface. Van Vechten’s sentences are crafted for effect, his dialogues are staged, and his opinions are offered as provocations rather than final judgments. The book is best read not as a systematic treatise but as a series of performances in criticism, each essay a turn on the merry-go-round of early twentieth-century aesthetic debate.

What a curious comfort it is, watching Mr. Van Vechten turn his attention to a song or a face, as if saving it for later. It put me in mind of another collector of moments, one who wrote with enormous warmth to everyone he met. I found the same tender scrutiny in The Letters of Charles Dickens. Vol. 3, 1836-1870 — A Closer Reading. Both men simply noticed life, then quietly handed it back to us.