ROMANCE.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 179, 30 July 1932, Page 1 (Supplement)

ROMANCE.

NATURE AND GROWTH.

HINDRANCES IN NEW ZEALAND

(By OLIVER IRELAND.)

Nearly half a century ago Santa Claus used to come down the lovely old twisted chimney on the gable of our farmhouse. His principal gift to each of us was a book. Even now I can see the illustrations in one of mine, which told a tale of a settler's family in New Zealand. To that story I always trace my first desire to dome to Maoriland. It made this far-off country an isle of romance in my boyish eyes. Marryatt's "Masterman Ready," and, later, Stevenson's "Treasure Island," only served to harden desire into resolution. That first dream of an active imagination still survives. I frankly acknowledge it creates a standard which influences, to a small extent, an appreciation of the actualities of the later era in which I arrived here. For I have not yet found the atmosphere of romance which I expected. In romance we have to consider two distinct yet mutually dependent factors: the accessories and the actors. "Accessories" really mean the stage setting, and include natural scenery as well as domestic surroundings. I cannot go quite so far as to support a recent assertion that tho scenery of New Zealand does not lend itself to romance. I think the true romanticist could make something of it. But it would have to be a composite picture. The reason for this is, it seems to me, because our scenery is what I may term "zoned." The contrasting parts of it are too widely separated. Romance, actual or "created," needs immediate contrast to stimulate our interest. So that its infrequent variety, and, of course, its present-clay loneliness, narrows the field of_ romantic vision almost to vanishing point.

Power of Contrast. Again, still in the region of scenic accessories, we have not here, nor apparently are we likely to have, the wide and romantic contrast between the dwellings of the "great" and the "small" that meet us on every hand in European countries. New Zealanders who have never seen them can hardly imagine the existence of such places as the castles of, say, Arundel and Warwick, not to mention the "strongholds" of the northern counties, Northumberland and Cumberland. The very sight of these inspire romance, and the feeling is intensified by the "lowly cot," literally within their sha-

dow. The far-spread monotony of our i painted and impermanent bungalows leaves no room for romantic flights, even up "a pair of stairs." But, when all is said and done, scenery is only the dress of romance. Its flesh and blood and bones lie in the character and habits of a people. Efforts have been made to show that New Zealand is entitled to an honourable place among the countries which can boast the romantic tradition. We are referred to Maori legends and Maori history. I think that to discover romance in these one must first idealise the Maori. With all my liking and admiration for him, I find the reality of him makes ideality of him difficult, if not impossible. A defender of New Zealand as a land of romance has cited instances from our local wars in support of his claim. Now, an essential of romance is idealism. I think most people will agree with me that, fundamentally, there was very little idealism on either side in our conflicts with the natives of this country. Nor can isolated cases of devotion to duty in the course of a war be called romance in the usual understanding of the word. It is when we find a house divided against itself, and like fighting like, that the possibilities of romance present themselves. Our English history through the Wars of the Roses, the Civil War and the Stuart risings give us all the ingredients of true romance in war. No Glamour. Social conditions m New Zealand are such that any effort to weave them into romance must necessarily be artificial and unconvincing. From a humanitarian and material point of view this is all to the good. But we are dealing with romance. Its requirements include contrast, sacrifice, idealism, chivalry, pure and disinterested love, and that steadfast purpose which wins through to a distant goal. It is a statement of fact, and not a criticism, to say that our particular type of democracy is so besotted with hindrances to spiritual freedom that our lives are deprived of any pretence to glamour. Also, in an atmosphere of equality, about as stimulating as a badly boiled "dumpling, King Cophetua would very likely find his "beggar maid" a super-sophisticated product of a primary school, who would have no hesitation in telling him to go and do the washing as she lay in bed reading American "True Love Stories," <ind wondering why there was no romance in her own life. The dullness of even the high level of mediocrity which is New Zealand's standard of excellence is a dead hand which hinders excursions into the realm ' of romance. We do not permit soaring heights or gloomy depths. We take all precautions against any divinity shaping our ends, and we lo?e the salt of life by complacently accepting the tyranny of the commonplace.