961 D77I UC-NI B 3 5SE 14 DAY USE I RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED >w, or rail. 6 THEODORE DREISER America s Foremost Novelist NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD Photograph by Ira L. Hill s Studio. LOAN STACK THEODORE DREISER THEODORE DREISER A PORTRAIT* By EDGAR LEE MASTERS -TN SOUL enrapt demi-urge, Walking the earth, Stalking life. JACK o Lantern, tall shouldered, One eye set higher than the other, Mouth cut like a scallop in a pie Aslant, showing powerful teeth, Swaying above the heads of others, Jubilant, with fixed eyes scarcely sparkling, Moving about rhythmically, exploding with laugh ter, Touching fingers together, back and forth, Or toying with a handkerchief, And the eyes burn like a flame at the end of a funnel, And the ruddy face glows like a pumpkin On Halloween! OR else a gargoyle of bronze Turning suddenly to life And slipping suddenly down corners of stone To eat you: Full of questions, objections, Distinctions, instances, Contemptuous, ironical, remote, Cloudy, irreverent, ferocious, Fearless, grim, compassionate yet hateful, Old yet young, wise yet virginal, To whom everything is new and strange, * Written for The New York Times Review of Books. 3 THEODORE DREISER A PORTRAIT Whence he stares and wonders, Laughs, mocks, curses Disordered, yet with a passion for order And classification hence the habitual Folding into squares of a handkerchief. OR else a well cultivated and fruitful valley, But behind it unexplored fastnesses. Gorges, precipices, and heights Over which thunder clouds hang, From which lightning falls, Stirring up terrible shapes of prey That slink about in the blackness. The silence of him is terrifying As if you sat before the sphinx. The look of his eyes makes tubes of the air Through which you are magnified and analyzed. He needs nothing of you and wants nothing. He is alone and content, Self-mastered and beyond friendship, You could not hurt him. If he would allow himself to have a friend He could part with that friend forever And in a moment be lost in wonder Staring at a carved rooster on a doorstep, Or at an Italian woman Giving suck to a child On a seat in Washington Square. SOUL enrapt demi-urge, Walking the earth, Stalking life. WHAT MANNER OF MAN HE IS* By HARRIS MERTON LYON IN many ways, my masters, the one man writing in this country to-day that is worth the lot of them. All the good magazine fellows and they are good fellows, the Tarkingtons, Beaches, Londons and the rest may play their little lighthearted game and fare on into the dusk, pleased that they did nothing and did it well. They are for the most part dead before they die, and so no mystery. But here is a fellow who now shows as if he may never die at all whose work reveals at once that lucidity and that inscrutability which we accord to the seer. This man is mysterious; he is interesting. Imagine a man, long, loosely put to gether, with design obtuse, blunted or slack where in most individuals nature makes for acuteness and tautness. A lolling gait; a lolling head; unbeauti- ful, unarresting, prematurely grizzled. Somewhere between forty and fifty years old now, I take it. A loose mouth, chin blunted and rather small; bluish grey eyes, large, lolling eyes, perhaps * From "Reedy s Mirror." 5 JMERICJ S FOREMOST XOfELIST neurotic, and meaning nothing, save perhaps in anger. Simply a tall, un gainly, unlovely man with something of the cast of Oliver Goldsmith s features. Something lumpish, something rankly vegetable is evoked. What? A huge rutabaga; a colossal, pith-stricken rad ish. In this body dwells this interest ing, this amazingly fascinating mind. He sits, lolling his head, articulating with a drone . . . "Well-ah . . . Well- ah" . . . folding a pocket handkerchief eternally into a strip, folding the strip itself together, accordion-wise. Theo dore Dreiser, mysterious and powerful. William Marion Reedy once said to me, when the musty ale was flowing free, Thank God, Dreiser hasn t got style. If he ever gets a style, it s good-bye. You know what he meant: If Dreiser ever gets thinking how he is going to say a thing rather than what he is going to say his work will suffer in body what it gains in telling. But Dreiser will never get this sort of style. The man s mind is essentially simple; it is so simple that many people AMERICA S FOREMOST \OrELIST find him too confoundedly prosaic and so will have none of him. For years he prepared magazines for the simple peo ple; and he seems in that work to have convinced himself that it will never do to take it for granted that the mob is already apprised of a fact. Once, rid ing in the subway, he opened a copy of the Evening W^rld and showed me the line: " Let us introduce you to the work of Rudyard Kipling/ I scoffed, saying people already knew that work. Dreiser said, "Xo, they don t; they have to be introduced to even-thing." To believe that, and yet to write novels, requires infinite patience. It also lays the ghost of "style"; for perhaps one-half of style is repression. The stylist is the man who withholds his pen. Dreiser has tried to give himself an impassive attitude of mind. His idea is that a writer should look down on life much as a god does, neither in irony nor in awe; should regard men and women as blades of grass, flourishing and perish ing under the eternal sky. For such a god, for such a writer we may concoct a 7 AMERICA S FOREMOST NOVELIST paradox: everything is really so unim portant that it might well be treated as important. Thus Dreiser. Lest a plate glass window or an apartment house perish forever from men s minds, he will set it down in detail. I do not see how he ever gets done with a book. Every hour in every day is so important to every character that Dreiser himself must feel rather like a clock with a con science. Yet patience alone does not explain Dreiser. If you ask anyone who knows the man personally, he will say he can not tie Dreiser up with his books at all. That part of the writer which sees hu man character in a flash and builds it up into an enduring monument is hidden. Dreiser in the flesh seems too peevish and fretful. That he isn t we know from Carrie and Jennie and Hurstwood and Coivperivood. Here is nothing but broad sympathy, genuine sweetness of heart, sublime and thrilling moments of true pity that sometimes torture the reader into tears. What does this recluse 8 AMERICA S FOREMOST NOVELIST keep from us, behind those lolling, un initiated eyes of his? That he keeps poetry is one thing sure. I sat once with him on a roof in Harlem and watched some pigeons flying. He spoke in a sort of rhapsody of their grace and their mystery. I think later he wrote a bit about them; I know he in tended at that time a book. To a man who, in the backward-running holes of his mind, keeps caves for poetry any in- appropriateness of genius is creditable. We read of Hurstwood and his rocking chair and his trips to the butcher with a sort of sick sense of the realism of it all. But the man who gave us Hurstwood is a poet in his heart. I think perhaps I have hit the mys tery of Dreiser in using the word recluse. Not that he is a recluse socially. I mean mentally. There are some men, like Chesterton, who wear their minds on the tips of their tongues. Dreiser would talk, and talk with a stumbling, droning con viction, but not with that exultation and precision with which he writes. Dreiser was the first man who taught me to think. AMERICA S FOREMOST NOVELIST He would pick up a newspaper with an account in it of a murder trial and he would make some comment that gave so clear and arresting a judgment on humanity that I, the neophyte, used to gasp. But it would soon be lost in rambling, petty inconsequentialities. There was no sustained flow to Dreiser, as for instance there was to Henley and to Oscar Wilde, and, in this day, to Vance Thompson. Some men are born to keep conversation always at its flower. But not so Dreiser. From him, too, I learned that there are always two, and possibly three or a dozen sides to every thing. This is enough to make anybody tongue-tied. Thus I should say the mental recluse in Dreiser is partly due to his philoso phy. And I think, too, to a certain morbidity which he himself had admit ted. His early life was both interesting and severe. Once, in New York, he had but a loaf of bread left. A veritable staff of life. While he was applying in an office for employment, an officious porter picked up the loaf in the ante- 10 AMERICA S FOREMOST NOFELIST room and threw it into the dust bin. God could do him no viler trick. So from then on his fortunes began to mend. But the experiences through which he passed left this new and tantalizing nerv ousness in his system. I think this slight morbidity may have ramified out into delusions of animosities in the world around him; whereas the animosities never were there . . . they were simply puzzled incomprehensions of him. Nat urally, however, a man thinking thus would keep his real self for the sanctity of pen and paper. His social self he felt was best kept commonplace to a degree; and hence the casual acquaint ance of Dreiser cannot reconcile the man to his books. Dreiser is important. There is no American writing man to-day the con dition of whose health, vigor and spirits is more important. I am like Reedy in that I hope he will never accumulate a "style." What I hope from him is that Dreiser will go along in the slow, painstaking way on which he is faring, but with the n AMERICA S FOREMOST NOVELIST four fingers of his good right hand feel ing sensitively under their tips whether a sentence, a paragraph, a page thrills and jumps with life or whether it is just cold putty, molded and dumped there ... so many hundreds of words et praeterea nihil. He sits, rolling in his chair, rolling his head, rolling his tongue, pleating his handkerchief, drinking his glass of water, droning after the manner of Coleridge only not so somnolent. . . . "Well-ah . . .well-ah ..." and behind those round, uncommunicative eyes passes the procession of the characters of his genius . . . Drouet with his shiny shoes and drummer odor, Jenny Gerhardt s old father carrying the baby to the Lutheran church to be christened, Goivperwood, who got everything and nothing, Hurst- ivood turning on the gas to change his problem for a new one. . . . The one man, my masters, worth the lot of them. 12 TO THEODORE DREISER ON READING "THE GENIUS " By ARTHUR DAVISON FICKE THERE were gilded Chinese dragons And tinkling danglers of glass And dirty marble-topped tables Around us, that late night-hour. You ate steadily and silently From a huge bowl of chop-suey Of repellant aspect; While I, I, and another, Told you that you had the style neither of William Morris Nor of Walter Pater. And it was perfectly true . . . But you continued to occupy yourself With your quarts of chop-suey. And somehow you reminded me Of nothing so much as of the knitting women Who implacably counted stitches while the pride of France Went up to death. Tonight I am alone, A long way from that Chinese restaurant, A long way from wherever you are. And I find it difficult to recall to my memory The image of your large laboring inexpressive face. For I have just turned the last page Of a book of yours A book large and superficially inexpressive, like yourself. * From "The Little Review" 13 AMERICA S FOREMOST NOVELIST It has not, any more than the old ones, The style of Pater. But now there are passing before me Interminable figures in tangled procession Proud or cringing, starved with desire, or icy, Hastening toward a dream of triumph; fleeing from a dream of doom, Passing passing passing Through a world of shadows, Through a chaotic and meaningless anarchy, Under heavy clouds of terrific gloom Or through ravishing flashes of knife-edged sun light- Passing passing passing Their heads haloed with immortal illusion, The terrible and beautiful, cruel and wonder-laden illusion of life. 14 A CARICATURE OF THEODORE DREISER DRAWN BY P. B. McCORD THE WRITER AND HIS WRITINGS* By JOHN COWPER POWYS IN estimating the intrinsic value of a book like The "Genius" and gener ally of a writer like Theodore Dreiser, it is advisable to indulge in a little gentle introspection. Criticism need not always impose it self as an art; but it must at least con form to some of the principles that govern that form of human activity. The worthlessness of so much energetic modern criticism is that it proceeds like scum from the mere surface of the writer s intelligence. It is true that all criticism resolves itself ultimately into a matter of taste; but one has to dis cover what one s taste really is; and that is not always easy. Taste is a living thing, an organic thing. It submits to the laws of growth; and its growth is fostered or retarded by many extraneous influences. In regard to the appreciation of new and original works of art, it belongs to the inherent nature of taste that it should be enlarged, transmuted, and undergo the birth-pangs * From "The Little Review" 16 "HE WRITER AND HIS WRITINGS f a species of re-creation. In the pres- nce of a work of art that is really un- sual; in an attempt to appreciate a iterary effect that has never appeared icfore, one s taste necessarily suffers a ertain embarrassment and uneasiness, t suffers indeed sometimes a quite ex- reme discomfort. This is inevitable, "his is right. This means that the cre- tive energy in the new thing is getting 3 work upon us, unloosening our prej- idices and enlarging our scope. Such . process is attended by exquisite intel- ectual excitement. It is also attended >y a certain rending and tearing of per- onal vanity. In dealing with a creative quality as musual and striking as that of Theodore Dreiser, it is of absolutely no critical r alue to content ourselves with a crude >hysical disturbance on the surface of >ur minds, whether such disturbance is .avourable or unfavourable to the writer, t is, for instance, quite irrelevant to url condemnation upon a work like The Genius" because if is largely preoc- apied with sex. It is quite equally ir- THE WRITER AND HIS WRITINGS relevant to lavish enthusiastic laudations upon it because of this preoccupation. A work of art is not good because it speaks daringly and openly about things that shock certain minds. It is not bad be cause it avoids all mention of such things. An artist has a right to introduce into his work what he pleases and to exclude from his work what he pleases. The question for the critic is, not what sub ject has he selected, but how has he treated that subject; has he made out of it an imaginative, suggestive, and con vincing work of art, or has he not! Dreiser is concerned with the mass and weight of the stupendous life-tide; the life-tide as it flows forward, through vast panoramic stretches of cosmic scen ery. Both in respect to human beings, and in respect to his treatment of inan imate objects, this is always what most dominatingly interests him. You will not find in Dreiser s books those fasci nating arrests of the onward-sweeping tide, those delicate pauses and expec tancies, in back-waters and enclosed gardens, where persons, with diverting 18 THE WRITER AND HIS WRITINGS twists in their brains, murmur and mean der at their ease, protected from the great stream. Nobody in the Dreiser-world is so protected; nobody is so privileged. The great stream sweeps them all for ward, sweeps them all away; and not they, but It, must be regarded as the hero of the tale. It is precisely this quality, this sub ordination of the individual to the deep waters that carry him, which makes Dreiser so peculiarly the American writer. Perhaps this is one of the rea sons why he has had a more profoundly appreciative hearing in England than in the United States. It was so with Walt Whitman in his earlier days. The true literary descendants of the author of the Leaves of Grass are un doubtedly Theodore Dreiser and Edgar Masters. These two, and these two alone, though in completely different ways, possess that singular "beyond-good- and-evil" touch which the epic form of art requires. It was just the same with Homer and Virgil, who were as natu rally the epic children of aristocratic ages, as these are of a democratic one. 19 THE WRITER AND HIS WRITINGS And so with the style of the thing. It is a ridiculous mis-statement for critics to say that Dreiser has no style. It is a charming irony, on his own part, to belittle his style. He has, as a matter of fact, a very definite and a very effective style. It is a style that lends itself to the huge indifferent piling up of indiscrim inate materials, quite as admirably as that gracious poetical one of the old epic- makers lent itself to their haughtier and more aristocratic purpose. One would recognize a page of Dreiser s writings as infallibly as one would recognize a page of Hardy s. The former relaxes his medium to the extreme limit and the latter tightens his; but they both have their "manner." A paragraph written by Dreiser would never be mistaken for anyone else s. If for no other peculiarity Dreiser s style is remarkable for the shamelessness with which it adapts itself to the drivel of ordinary conversation. In the Dreiser books especially in the later ones, where in my humble opinion he is feeling more firmly after his true way, people are permitted to say those 20 THE WRITER AND HIS WRITINGS things which they actually do say in real life things that make you blush and howl, so soaked in banality and inepti tude are they. In the true epic manner Dreiser gravely puts down all these fatu ous observations, until you feel inclined to cry aloud for the maddest, the most fantastic, the most affected Osconian wit, to serve as an antidote. But one knows very well he is right. People don t in ordinary life certainly not in ordinary democratic life talk like Oscar Wilde, or utter deep ironic sayings in the style of Matthew Arnold. They don t really let this be well under stood concentrate their feelings in bitter pungent spasmodic outbursts, as those Rabelaisean persons in Guy de Mau passant. They just gabble and gibber and drivel; at least that is what they do in England and America. And the same thing applies to Drei ser s attitude towards "good and evil" and towards the problem of the "super natural." All other modern writers array themselves on this side or that. They either defend traditional morality 21 THE WRITER AND HIS WRITINGS or they attack it. They are anxious, at all costs, to give their work dramatic intensity; they struggle to make it iron ical, symbolical, mystical God knows what! But Dreiser neither attacks mor ality nor defends immorality. In the true Epic manner he puts himself aside, and permits the great mad Hurly-Burly to rush pell-mell past him and write its own whirligig runes at its own careless pleasure. Even Zola himself was not such a realist. Zola had a purpose; the purpose of showing what a Beast the human animal is! Dreiser s people are not beasts; and they shock our es thetic sensibilities quite as often by their human sentiment as they do by their lapses into lechery. Dreiser has no prejudices except the prejudice of finding the normal man and the normal woman, shuffled to and fro by the normal forces of life, an interest ing and arresting spectacle. To some among us such a spectacle is not inter esting. We must have the excitement of the unusual, the shock of the abnormal. Well! There are plenty of European 22 THE WRITER AND HIS WRITINGS writers ready to gratify this taste. Dreis er is not a European writer. He is an American writer. The life that inter ests him, and interests him passionately, is the life of America. It remains to be seen whether the life of America in terests Americans! 23 BOOKS BY THEODORE DREISER A HOOSIER HOLIDAY With 32 Full-page Illustrations, Cover Design and End-papers by Franklin Booth Net, $3.00 "The panorama that he enrolls runs the whole scale of the colors; it is a series of extraordinary vivid pictures. The sombre gloom of the Pennsylvania hills, with Wilkes- Barre lying among them like a gem; the procession of little country towns, sleepy and a bit hoggish ; the flash of Buffalo, Cleveland, Indianapolis; the gargantum coal-pockets and ore- docks along the Erie shore ; the tinsel summer resorts ; the lush In diana farm-lands, with their stodgy, bovine people all of these things are sketched in simply and yet almost magnificently. I know, indeed, of no book which better describes the Am erican hinterland. . . . "Save for passages in The Titan/ A Hoosier Holiday marks the high est tide of Dreiser s writings that is, as sheer writing. . . .In sum, this record of a chance holiday is much more than a mere travel book, for it offers, and for the first time, a clear understanding of the funda mental faiths and ideas, and of the intellectual and spiritual background no less, of a man with whom the future historian of American litera ture will have to deal at no little length. Dreiser, as yet, has not come into his own." H. L. MENCKEN in "The Smart Set." JOHN LANE COMPANY Publishers New York 24 BOOKS BY THEODORE DREISER THE "GENIUS" The Story of the Soul s Struggle Seen Through the Eyes of Genius Net, $1.50 "Mr. Dreiser proves himself once more a master realist . . . he is a great, a very great artist. In a season remarkable for its excellent fiction this new book of his imme diately takes its place in the front rank." New York Tribune. "If America can boast of a novelist now living of greater power, insight, imaginative sweep, let him step for ward and claim the laurel wreath. Dreiser seems to me our greatest nov elist now writing, and destined in the wise judgment of posterity to be given a place among the noteworthy writers of this age." EDGAR LEE MASTERS, author of "The Spoon River Anthology," in the Chicago Evening Post. JOHN LANE COMPANY Publishers New York 25 BOOKS BY THEODORE DREISER SEVEN PLAYS OF THE NATURAL AND THE SUPER NATURAL. Net, $1.25 THE GIRL IN THE COFFIN. THE BLUE SPHERE. LAUGHING GAS. IN THE DARK THE SPRING RECITAL. THE LIGHT IN THE WINDOW. OLD RAGPICKER. "There probably is nothing in the American Drama quite like these plays, so realistic, so true to nature, and yet so suggestive of those spiri tual undercurrents that are the real factors in the problem of existence." St. Louis Globe Democrat. "Opens up a new vista in American play-writing. Mr. Dreiser s previous work has shown him to be a signi ficant figure in contemporary Amer ican literature, and these plays serve to emphasize the importance of that fact." Boston Transcript. JOHN LANE COMPANY Publishers New York BOOKS BY THEODORE DREISER SISTER CARRIE Net, $1.35 " Sister Carrie remains one of the most powerful productions of uncom promising realism in American liter ature." New York Tribune. "The book is, firstly, the full, ex haustive story of the half-equipped little knight s life and adventures; secondly, it is a broad, vivid picture of men and manners in middle class New York and Chicago, and thirdly, it is a thorough and really masterly study of the moral, physical and social deterioration of one Hurst- wood, a lover of the heroine. Upon all these counts it is a creditable piece of work, faithful and rich in the interest which pertained to real istic fiction. It is further of interest by reason that it strikes a key-note and is typical in the wealth and diver sity of its matter of the great country which gave it birth. Readers there are who, having perused the five hun dred and odd pages which go to the making of Sister Carrie will find a permanent place upon their shelves for the book beside M. Zola s Nana. " THEODORE WATTS DUNTON in the London Athenaum. JOHN LANE COMPANY Publishers New York 27 BOOKS BY THEODORE DREISER THE FINANCIER Net, $1.40 "If The Financier were not des ignated on its title page as a novel/ or if Mr. Dreiser were without repu tation as a novelist, the reader might easily imagine himself to be looking at an historical panorama of social, business and political life in Phila delphia during a period of the twenty years just previous to, during and fol lowing the Civil War. Mr. Dreiser does not lack imagination, in fact he discloses its vigor on almost every page, yet the photographic exactitude with which he pictures the successive stages of Frank Cowperwood s prog ress in finance and love is little short of marvellous. His story seems to be literally the biography of his hero, of a man who actually lived and triumphed, sinned and suffered amid the turmoil of existence in a great American city." Boston Evening Transcript. HARPER & BROTHERS Publishers New York 28 BOOKS BY THEODORE DREISER THE TITAN Net, $1.40 "In the genre there has been no book published that approaches The Titan in human interest since Mr. White s A Certain Rich Man ap peared and carried away the public." Philadelphia Public Ledger. "It is a stupendous picture, built up ponderously, detail upon detail, in the Zolaesque manner, of the period in which gigantic fortunes were created out of public utilities, out of gas and street railways, and the for mation of the first trusts; the period of the wholesale corruption of city councils and state legislatures, of bought and stolen franchises and elections, of the control of politics by big business. The struggles for control, for the spoils, the hidden and open fights, the personal quarrels that are transferred to the financial arena, all this is vivid reading. . . . In conclusion it may be said that this picture of an era in our financial and industrial evolution has serious socio-historical value." New York Tribune. JOHN LANE COMPANY Publishers New York 29 BOOKS BY THEODORE DREISER JENNIE GERHARDT Net, $1.35 " Jennie Gerhardt is a story wrung from the heart strings and dripping with vitality. ... It has the inexorable simplicity and reality of which only the French seem to be capable. . . . Jennie is the victim of a relentless destiny. She is born for sacrifice. The braver her fight against the ironic whim of circum stance the quicker her vanquishment. Naturally virtuous, tender and pure minded, she is pursued by this mali cious fate, but even with a nameless child she remains pure. Can such a paradox be understood in 1911? It is not necessary to go into the plot. In fact, there is none to speak of. It is life big, inscrutable, crushing. It is the life with which we are in collision every day, if we but knew it. There will be various opinions about this book. One that may or may not be of value is that it comes near deserving that abused word great. " New York Herald. HARPER & BROTHERS Publishers New York 30 BOOKS BY THEODORE DREISER A TRAVELER AT FORTY Illustrations by Glackens Net, $1.80 "In A Traveler at Forty Theodore Dreiser has done something unique in travel books. It is unlike anything else of its kind, because nobody else ever wrote exactly like Mr. Dreiser. If anyone had Dreiser doubtless would have written in still another fashion. The very title is a reflec tion of the book s peculiar excellence. The author has avoided the ordinary error of egotism by being thoroughly egotistical. The volume doesn t pre tend to tell about the conventional grand tour of England and the con tinent; it leaves that to the guide books and to authors who know no better. "It is a book about a more or less candid Theodore Dreiser and what he thinks about what happened to him in England, France, Germany, Italy and Holland and some other localities which he saw for the first time just as he had turned 40. "We are indebted to Mr. Dreiser not only for a great book, but for an example which must be followed by lesser writers who essay to pro duce volumes of their impressions of lands and peoples not their own." Kansas City Star. THE CENTURY COMPANY Publishers New York 31 BOOKS BY THEODORE DREISER In Preparation To be Published in the Spring, 1917 THE BULWARK Net, $1.50 Of all modern novelists Theodore Dreiser most entirely catches the spirit of America. There is some thing epic, something enormous and amorphous like the body of an ele mental giant about each of his books. In "The Bulwark" especially the peculiar power of Dreiser s mas sive coulter-like impetus is evident. The subject is distinctly American the struggle of the head of a Quaker- family to bring up his children in the orthodox way, and the influence of modern society upon their beliefs and actions. JOHN LANE COMPANY Publishers New York 32 NlA -* U.C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES CD311DflflDM 14 DAY USE I RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. RENEWALS ONLY TEL. NO. 642-3405 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. Due end of subject to recall af4r - AUG - DID BEC DLO JAN 2 6 LD21A-60m-3, 70 (N5382slO)476-A-32 General Library University of California Berkeley