That's actually a pretty good list. I can't say I haven't heard of James Truslow Adams but I can't swear I have, either. I've heard of all the rest and have even read Lewis (
Arrowsmith and
Babbit, I believe, though the memories are very dim), Santayana (
The Sense of Beauty,
Scepticism and Animal Faith), and I think I read some of a collected volume of Frost. He doesn't really do it for me but he's still one of the major American poets. I think Millay is seen as a bit old-fashioned, perhaps? But she's still a fairly big deal to some people, I think. I've read her in anthologies but she's never triggered further interest. Benet might not be considered much now, but I couldn't say for sure. Dreiser is still fairly well known, I think, though maybe not very well liked. O'Neill and Cather are still fairly known and esteemed. And Cabell is one of these people who everybody says nobody knows but if everyone's saying it, they must know him.
I'm pretty sure an author I like liked Cabell so I downloaded a couple of Gutenberg files of him to take a look, though I haven't done it yet.
Those
Colophon readers did a reasonable job. If you look at general booklists - particularly bestsellers - from a similar timeframe it's usually a study in obscurity.
I guess the editors did better (allowing for a gigantic miss I'd never heard of - Hervey Allen) because Hemingway, Mencken, and Wolfe are all still huge.
Still, you never know with lists like these. If you'd asked in the 1890s if RL Stevenson would be famous, most people would have said yes, but in the 1930s it probably would have seemed wrong, and now it seems right. Some things ebb and flow.
As far as the article's other question about who today will last to the 2080s, it's an interesting question, but I don't have an answer. I suspect almost nothing I like will last and almost everything that will last, I dislike.
Which raises a related, kind of contrarian question, though: does it really matter? Whether someone will read something in 2080 doesn't make a book any better or worse for me as I read it now. It's quite possible that I experience something in my ephemera that no one in all their reading of classics in the future can ever experience and that, here and now, those timely books are more valuable than the timeless ones that may only be such through a sort of non-specificity that makes them semi-relevant to all times and specifically perfectly relevant to none.
* (And then you can go on debating the value of "relevance" in the first place.)
I dunno - it's all gonna end up ashes around dying suns anyway. Carpe diem!
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* Just to clarify, I'm not speaking against classics either now or in the future - as a musty Hellenophile who reads archaic forms like poetry and philosophy that would hardly make sense - but just playing devil's advocate and arguing for the merits of the now, too.