Embarrassment

A year ago, thousands of citizens attended memorial banquets on the seventieth anniversary of the birth of Woodrow Wilson. To the banqueters and the country it was announced that the Woodrow Wilson Foundation would give $25,000 each to that man and that woman, aged 20 to 35 who would write the best 2,500-word essays entitled: "What Woodrow Wilson Means to Me."

The contest closed in October. Last week the result was announced--or lack of result. Some 10,000 citizens had tried to make Woodrow Wilson mean $25,000 to them. But, with the seventy-first anniversary of the birth of Woodrow Wilson at hand, Dr. George McLean Harper, Woodrow Wilson Professor of Literature at Princeton and foreman of the essay-judging jury, was obliged to announce that not one of the essays submitted was, in substance or style, "fit to be published without embarrassment and submitted to the critical judgment of educated men and women."

Only 44 of the 10,000 essays were thought worthy of the whole jury's attention. Not one was deemed worthy of even a second prize $1,000). Of the $57,000 prize money (contributed by Cyrus H. McCormick, Edward Bok, Henry Morgenthau, Bernard M. Baruch et al.), only $2,000 was awarded--for 14 third prizes ($100 each) and 30 honorable mentions ($20).

Critics blamed, not necessarily the ineptitude or insincerity of young U. S. essayists, not necessarily a dwindling of public interest in Woodrow Wilson, but perhaps the title chosen for the contest: "What Woodrow Wilson Means to Me." This was a "true-story", confessional title, and naturally produced embarrassingly sentimental contributions.