The Little Review, June-July 1915 (Vol. 2, No. 4)

A lively first‑person essay opens a window onto the bustling literary scene of early‑20th‑century Chicago. The writer reflects on the bold, incisive book reviews that once filled the pages of the Friday Literary Review, contrasting its vigor with the more genteel tone of publications such as The Dial and the New York Times Literary Supplement. He paints a vivid picture of a city yearning for a weekly forum that could match the energy of those daily pages, while also noting the practical limits that doomed the experiment.

The piece then turns to a spirited defense of The Little Review, praising its informal spirit and the freedom it grants writers to use the personal “I.” By championing individuality over rigid formality, the essay argues that true good writing springs from unrestrained personality rather than pretended objectivity. It illustrates how a relaxed editorial stance can both invite brilliance and tolerate occasional folly, keeping the discourse lively.

Through witty observations and sharp comparisons, the essay offers modern listeners a snapshot of a pivotal moment when literary criticism wrestled with the balance between scholarly rigor and personal voice—an issue that still resonates in today’s cultural commentary.