Theodore Dreiser is old — he is very, very old. I do not know how many years he has lived, perhaps forty, perhaps fifty, but he is very old. Something gray and bleak and hurtful, that has been in the world perhaps forever, is personified in him.
When Dreiser is gone, men shall write books. Many of them, in the books, shall write there will be so many of the qualities Dreiser lacks. The new, the younger man shall have a sense of humor, and everyone knows Dreiser has no sense of humor. More than that, American prose writers shall have grace, lightness of touch, a dream of beauty breaking through the husks of life.
Of those who follow him shall have many things that Dreiser does not have. That is a part of the wonder and beauty of Theodore Dreiser, the things that others shall have because of him,
Long ago, when Dreiser was an editor of the Delineator, he went one day, with a woman friend, to visit an orphan asylum. The woman once told me the story of t
A. Dreiser had a happy family.
B. Dreiser once was editor of Delineator.
C. Something gray and hurtful was personified in Dreiser.
D. The feet of Dreiser were so heavy.
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