LITERARY GOSSIP

Press, Volume LX, Issue 18135, 26 July 1924, Page 11

LITERARY GOSSIP

It is a ticklish point—thia interrelation. of art and morals, Mr Arthur Waugh Bays in a notice on John Freeman's "English Portraits," but it is most suggestively sifted by Mr Free man. In Mr Chesterton, for example, he traces a native religiousness, which, although it leads him into submissions whither his critic could not conscientiously follow him, is everywhere a right and sustaining backbone to whimseys that are often extravagant, and to excesses which are sometimes childish. In Robert Louis Stevenson, on the other hand, the critic is set back by a certain moral cowardice, perhaps inseparable from "The Shorter Catechist," a deliberate stimulation of man's moral nature and a drugging of his speculation, due, perhaps, to the retarding creed that, because the average man cannot bear to be told the truth, he ought not to be expected to endure the telling. Stevenson's cheerfulness was deliberate, assumed; and Mr Freeman suggests, though he does not actually elaborate, a striking contrast between this false cheerfulness and the virile, courageous cheerfulness of Maurice Hewlett, who is not afraid to face the gloomy problem of man's spiritual servitude, and can yet see straight through it into the morning light of hope. What the critic seeks of the best literature is "a real simplicity and candour of view, an honest disdain of making times and things appear worse than they aie, and a steady refusal, in spite of all untowardness, to affect a philosophic despair," or to lose faith in the high destiny of humanity. So far as literature subserves these salutary ends, she can never consent to a divorce between art and morals.

Discoursing on "The Pleasure of Reading" to members of the 'Royal Society of Literature in London recently, Viscount Grey said he thought Englishmen were putting the pleasure of reading more and more in jeopardy. It was becoming more difficult to acquire the habit of reading. Picture papers were a disadvantage: they lessened not only reading, but also thought. He suggested planning reading beforehand, and having always in mind the three or four books that should be read. Of the pleasures of reading poetry, of course, came first and highest. Besides the joy in rhythm, the music of words, and imagery, there was great thought, which not only stirred the intellect, but roused the emotions;, At one time, after 11 years in office, he had retired for quietness into the country, and had reread Shakespeare's plays. He would put Wordsworth first among his favourite poets, because of the feeling of intimacy which Wordsworth brought to people, as though he revealed to them some of their own experiences. Novels he put next to poetry. It might be thought that love, as a passion, was essential to the greatest novels, but Jane Au&ten and Thackeray had proved that not true. When reading Jane Austen he felt she was the greatest wonder among novel writers. She worked under the closest limitations, yet the greatest critics and literary men placed her in the first rank. Of biographies he would quote an opinion he had read and agreed with, that those of literary men were the most interesting, those of (soldiers second, those of politicians the dullest.

In the eighteen-sixtics, when George Mac Donald came. into touch with English literary society, he declared thatthe merely professional literary party was an abhorrence to him; it made him feel pick. His literary success was at first threatened by his failure to realise that hig Ideals stood in opposition io "the sort of popularity which every publisher, however cultured ho may be, must look for." Smith, Elder and Co.' accordingly rejected "David Elginbrod," and their verdict coincided with that of nearly every publisher in London. However, the manuscript was submitted by the authoress of "John Halifax, Gentleman," to her publishers, Hurst and Blackett, with the remark that they were fools to refuse it. "Are we!" they asked. "Then, of course, we will print it without delay." They gave its author £9O for it, and it still steadily sells.' Never again had he difficulty in placing a book.

"Criticism," says Mr John Freeman in "English Portraits," "is not a science, else young men might learn it; nor an attitucftl, else old men might grow perfect in it; rather is it an adventure calling for a touch of gallantry, a touch of forbearance, a gentle use of logic, a free recourse to imagination, and no more than the faintest hint of dogmatism."

A correspondent submits the follow ing lines by the poet Cowper as a suitable epitaph for the late Hon. Sir Walter Buchanan, M.L.C.: — Take to thy bosom, gent!*' earth, a swain "With much hard labour in thy service worn! He Bet tha vines that clothe yon ample plain, And he these olives that the vale adorn. He filled with grain the glebe; the rills he led Through this green herbage, and those fruitful bowers; Thou, therefore, earth! lie lightly on his head, . His hoary head, and deck his grave with flowers.

The number of literary papers in Paris continues to increase, an correspondent reports. We have the resuscitated "Paris Journal," which appears on Fridays in newspaper form, and sells for 25 centimes; "Candide," also in newspaper form, appearing on Thursdays at 40 centimes; "Le Journal Litteraire," at 50 centimes weekly, and "Demain," a monthly published at 6 francs 50 centimes. "Candide" gives the reader his money's worth in fiction, playlets, theatre ilews, and reviews. "Le Journal Litteraire," of which five or six issues have appeared, seems to be a sketchy affair without particular interest. '' Demain'' commenced in extraordinary fashion with a complete novel by Francois Mauriac, an article by Maeterlinck on Sicily, which has been greatly resented by Sicilians, indiscretions on the subject of Anatole France by a former secretary M. Jean-Jaeqnes Brouason, stones by Carco and Philippe Soupault, and notes on society, dressmaking, the theatre, and books by various hands, all extremely competent. Dcmam has continued to live up to its first number, and affords excellent entertainment.

' Eosc Macanlay was brought up in Italy, whither she takes characters in "Dangerous Ages" and "Told by an Idiot," was educated at Oxford, as are most' of her younger people, and is fond of sports, as also are her characters. And she is a writer, a wit, an intellectual, the brilliant centre of a London literary coterie. In London she lives in the country-like Princess Gardens, with the dramatic critic of "The Westminster Gazette," and secures the privacy, bnt not the solitudt, necessary for writing.