Abstract

This essay considers whether American Jewish intellectuals have achieved the sublime combination of emotion and intellect characteristic of the very greatest art. Lionel Trilling is a keystone figure here, one cut off from his Jewish past by assimilationist tendencies and tied to an unfulfilling middle class liberalism. Trilling's only novel, Th e Middle of the Journey, succeeds as an intellectual exploration yet fails in portraying full-bodied characters emblematic of the "deep places of the imagination." Only occasionally does Trilling begin to touch upon the fullest artistic vision, notably in his short story "Of This Time of That Place," and in his literary-critical discussion of Isaac Babel.

The essay argues that Trilling's lack of artistic success is emblematic of those who followed in his wake. One such figure is Alfred Kazin, a writer of potent emotion but limited intellectual achievement. Irving Howe, another metaphorical son of Trilling, is comparable intellectually, but, like Trilling, is emotionally detached from his roots. As celebrated as the New York intellectuals may be, the essay argues that they fail to achieve works of lasting artistic greatness.