Glover by Francis Pollini. G. P. Putnam’s Sons, $5.95.
I suppose it’s possible to be stupid in any literary style, but some styles encourage stupidity more than others. Hemingway’s marvelous simplemindedness incited the merely simple-minded to mass-produce the banal, dumb-cluck kind of story that was once so prominent in American writing. The current style of the grotesque, of which Glover is a horrible example, is one of the latest encouragements to mindlessness. Apparently, the irresistible message that it whispers is: thinking isn’t so important, just be outrageous. Catch-22 is a funny book, but funny like Mad Magazine. Its humor is shallow because it is unable to establish any connection between the just war Heller’s hero is fighting in and the mad, malicious military authority running the war. Yossarion is ready to go on flying missions as long as Hitler hasn’t been beaten, but when it’s clear Hitler is licked he wants out of the crazy Air Force. Mailer’s American Dream is a piece of outrageous pop, clamorous for attention; its idea about the relation between sex and society is in the best tradition of American simple-mindedness.
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