The Little Review, November 1914 (Vol. 1, No. 8)

The opening pages flutter like a wild garden of verse, where surreal landscapes of sky‑bound forests and twilight‑peacocks mingle with stark confessions of loss and love. Poets weave Italian lyric fragments, mournful monologues about a dead son, and bright, myth‑laden images of apples that glow with silver, copper and gold. The language is both ornamental and urgent, inviting listeners to taste the tension between beauty and the aching of the human heart.

Interspersed among the poems is a provocative essay that turns its gaze on the cultural fallout of war, using Nietzsche’s philosophy as a lens to question nationalism, art, and morality. Written in a conversational yet incisive style, it maps the clash of ideas from philosophers to soldiers, showing how ideas can become weapons. Together, the pieces capture a moment of modernist experimentation, offering a rich listening experience that feels both timeless and rooted in its turbulent era.