"In college we never grasped the idea that culture was the outgrowth of a situation-- that an artisan knowing his tools and having the feel of his materials might be a cultured man; that a farmer among his animals and his fields, stopping his plow at the fence corner to meditate over death and life and next year's crop, might have culture without even reading a newspaper. Essentially we were taught to regard culture as a veneer, a badge of class distinction-- as something assumed like an Oxford accent or a suit of English clothes."
Coming from an honorary member of the "Lost Generation", I found this statement particularly striking. Since so many people who belonged-- or felt they belonged-- to that group of unique traveling intellectuals defined culture as something to be achieved through deliberate pursuit, it was surprising to see that Cowley saw it differently. As Cowley himself suggests in the above passage, he and many of his colleagues were taught that the truly cultured individual needed a deep, comprehensive knowledge of the world, its politics, languages, and high societies. To me, the fact that Cowley was later able to admit the possibility that culture might come naturally-- as "an outgrowth of a situation"-- made me respect him and appreciate his work more. It removed it from unappealingly lofty intellectualism and served as a reminder that someone smart and "worldly" could also respect the culture of a simpler existence.