liked and which in withered conditionnstill had something enchanting aboutnit) and finally the color of the ivorynwhite wood of the stick (that smelledndamp and tempted one to lick it, butnsoon became sadly shrivelled and dry,nwhich spoiled my pleasure in thisnwhite from the very beginning).nMany people have drawn a parallelnbetween Schoenberg’s atonality andnKandinsky’s move to abstract, nonobjectivenpainting. There is something tonthis, of course, but the ^similaritiesnof purpose outweigh the superficial resemblance.nKandinsky’s abstraction wasnalways a form of play, it was always joyful;nSchoenberg’s was a form of aggression.n(Soon after “discovering” the 12tonensystem Schoenberg wrote fo anfriend that his new invention would securenthe dominance of German musicnfor the next one hundred years.) Thenparallel also breaks down with the obviousnpoint that all music is entirely abstract.nKandinsky and other abstractionistsntalked of emulating music, but itnwas more likely Mozart they were thinkingnof, not Schoenberg.nKandinsky edited a paper with FranznMarc, but all one can conclude fromnthis is that politics, even aesthetic politics,nmakes strange bedfellows. So besidenKandinsky’s brilliant experiments isnFranz’s tumescent erotic reverie, “ThenLarge Blue Horses”; and a bit farthernalong his other animal paintings thatnlook like cubist children’s book illustrations.nI suppose one can’t write about Germannexpressionism without mentioningnEmile Nolde. Having done that and gottennhim out of the way, I can walk bynLudwig Meidner’s “Apocalyptic Landscape,”nroll down the ramp past GeorgenGrosz’s piglike industrialists rootingnaround with their piglike prostitutes,nand find something very delicate andnvery beautiful growing—and barely surviving—innthe corrupted soil of Germannexpressionism. It is the self-portrait ofnPaula Modersohn-Becker. She paintsnherself in reddish-browns, browns andnochers, and the eyes are heavy-lidded.n^H^^^^amm^nChronicles of Culturensuggesting depression and insomnia. Itnmight almost seem to be of the samenclay-bound sentiment as the other expressionists,nbut the picture is suffusednwith the light of a subdued, almost religiousnjoy. A turquoise, like stainednglass, radiates from around her as sensenof grace. Before her breast she holds ansprig of green resembling one of Matisse’snpalms. Her “Still Life withnOranges and Stone Dog” is appealingnwith its colors of a happy childhood (thenblue stone dog and the pink around thenrim of the flower pot really clinch thisnone), and “Poorhouse Woman at Duck-npond” comes right out of a Grimm tale.nThese pictures are childlike in theirnsimplicity, perhaps even a bit childish,na retreat from the ravages of her lifeninto a remembered happiness. Her “RecliningnNude,” however, has a fullgrown,nfull-bodied female sensualityshenobviously has an appreciation for it.nThe surface, though, is a swirl of clottednpaint; an attractive picture liesnbelow a positively grisly texture, as ifnthe canvas were covered with thorns.nPerhaps for some a bed of thorns is thenonly comfortable place to lie. DnThe American ProsceniumnWhat Happenedin November 1980?nBy electing Ronald Reagan Presidentnand putting a new Republican majorityninto the Senate, the American nationn(unique in the history of mankind byndint of its composition and institutions)nproved once again that it is mentally andnsocially healthy at its core and, as such,nit remains humanity’s best hope, itsnhighest exemplar. As of now, RonaldnReagan and the Republican Party representnthe values and principles whichnhave made this polity and this society anyardstick for human success on thisnplanet. The simple fact is that at annhistorical crossroad of this country, itsnpeople have given an unequivocal mandatento the forces of reason, social dynamismnand moral integrity. They withstoodnthe tremendous pressures of thenreigning political and opinion-shapingnestablishment. This formidable power,nwhich has ruled America and the mindsnof Americans for most of this century,nis dedicated to the relentless eradicationnof the rudiments of American success,nto tampering with the American traditionnof self-governance, to the revisionnof the most rewarding American spiritualnincentives. It has done so in thenname of honest but ill-conceived idealism,nthe main tendency of which is tonnnperceive human and civic good not in thenwill of the people—the fundamentalnAmerican tenet—but in theoretical prescriptionsnfor social justice. The endnresult of these prescriptions would bento give government an uncontrollednfranchise for regulating human livesnvia coercion.nThe Republican landslide of 1980 wasna victorious battle, but it was only anpolitical triumph. The cultural war fornthe American soul is still going on, andnits fierceness will increase. The politicallyndefeated side is in command of awesomenweapons: it still rules the media,nhigher education, the entertainment industry.nIt will do everything possible tonreverse the political tide with the helpnof an all-out cultural counteroffensivenin which the end will justify any means.nThe first taste of what we can expectnwas in the postelectoral speech ofnoutgoing Vice President Walter Mondale,na probable Democratic Presidentialncandidate in 1984. It was an ugly elocution,nsomehow incompatible with thenimage of fairness and intellectual maturitynassigned to Mr. Mondale by thenomnipotent liberal media. Speaking fornthe losing party, Mr. Mondale claimednthat the victory of Republican conservatismnwas a manipulation of people’snpreferences by some unnamed big-n