The Little Review, July 1917 (Vol. 4, No. 3)

A curious mix of fiction and manifesto, this issue opens with a playful series of letters between a soldier and his wife, hinting at the tender absurdities of wartime correspondence. The tone shifts sharply as the reader encounters “The Code of a Herdsman,” a tongue‑in‑cheek set of rules that urges readers to distrust clichés, to cultivate a personal vocabulary, and to view conformity as a kind of hypnotic herd. Its advice ranges from the oddly specific—rejecting certain idioms—to the broader, urging a restless, multifaceted sense of self.

The piece feels like a modernist prank, offering both satire and genuine reflection on how language shapes identity. Its fragmented style and eclectic references—from German literature to fisherman’s grunts—create a vivid collage that invites listeners to question the everyday assumptions that guide thought and speech. Engaging, slightly bewildering, and unmistakably daring, it captures a moment when avant‑garde voices were pushing the boundaries of what a literary “code” could be.