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F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, 1925
The great international fair, or Centennial Exposition, held in Philadelphia in 1876 demonstrated how insistently mechanization was modifying the daily habits of the American people. At every turn visitors were confronted by some new or improved machine or appliance. The symbol of the country's expanding industrial prowess was the giant Corliss steam engine, the most powerful and probably the most handsome machine that had ever been constructed by man. Made of highly refined metals, shaped to enormous size yet to precise detail, it had two cylinders bored to a diameter of forty inches, a flywheel thirty feet in diameter, and great piston rods of great speed and efficiency. The seven-hundred-ton engine performed with the quiet perfection of a watch as it produced up to twenty-five hundred horsepower. Seeing it, in the words of the editors of Godey's Lady's Book, was "simply stupendous."
But for all their mechanical ingenuity, Americans had not yet successfully married the machine to the arts. While the best exhibits of American furniture, silverware, and other household accessories could challenge anything shown by European exhibitors, one disenchanted reporter complained that the American department at the Centennial Exposition "was largely crowded with badly-designed, tawdry, and vulgar work, only fit, at the best, for the drawing room of a parvenu, or the glittering saloon of a North River steamboat." The Centennial aroused a poignant nostalgia for the early American past and inspired the native-born elite who visited the exposition in part to explore the social and domestic life of colonial America. The colonial revival emerged in the "New England Kitchen" restaurants at the exposition; in the renewed interest in colonial architecture (termed the Queen Anne style); in spinning wheels and open hearths; in crafts organizations and commemorative events in pageant form; and in popular art, novels, and guidebooks, such as Alice Morse Earle's Home Life in Colonial Days, published at the turn of the century.
This looking backward and preference for bygone days involved more than nostalgic or homesick longings. Implicit in these expressions was a dissatisfaction with contemporary life, or antimodernism. By the time of the Centennial, the nation had grown vastly, and the colonial past recalled the wholesome simplicities of life in an earlier age. Again and again in American history, during peaks of popular faith in the idea of progress and ebullient ...