The Northern Advocate Daily MONDAY, JUNE 21, 1937. SIR JAMES BARRIE’S DEATH

Northern Advocate, 21 June 1937, Page 4

The Northern Advocate Daily

MONDAY, JUNE 21, 1937. SIR JAMES BARRIE’S DEATH

R«»l*tered for tranamlukm through tne post m a .Newspaper,

The passing pf Sir James Batrie in his 78th/'year—he was born on May 9, 1860—snuffs out one of the most brilliant stars in the literary .firmament. When proposing the toast of the evening at the. 140th anniversary dinner of the Royal Literary Fund in London, which coincidentally was his 70th birthday, Sir James said: “It is years and years' since I have written anything. It is rather sad to find that nhbody seems to haye noticed, that but myself.” That is tnle to the Barrie tradition of whimsicality. Whatever there may have been to say about this utterance, there is none who has lived in the world of romance, of faery and of deep human sentiment created by Barrie but will regret that the author of Peter Pan was not himself one who never grew old. They null couple themselves with the same wish, in order that they might live again in days when the latest from Barrie’s pen was something to be looked for with keenest pleasure. It may be that Barrie is best known to the present generation' by his plays, which are the creation of his genius, but, in our opinion, the real Barrie is to be found in the work of his earlier days. In the stories which constitute “Auld Lieht Idylls,” “A Window in Thrums,” and “Margaret Ogilvy.” for example, there is manifested not only the literary genius of Barrie, but the real greatness of his heart and his understanding of human nature. The passing of the author, and the publicity it will give to him and his work, will, we believe, produce a renaissance of Barrie literature. That this would be a good thing no one who is acquainted with the work of say, the first twenty years of

Barrie’s writing life will deny. Fiction occupied his pen until 1902, and up to that time he had produced, in addition to the masterpieces we have mentioned, “The Little Minister,” 1 “When a; Man’s Single,” “Sentimental; Tommy,” “The Little White j Bird, Tommy and Grizel,” and others. His first stories, written when he was a very young man, did not find favour in the eyes of some editors, a fact to which Barrie often referred when encouraging those who had the urge to write. But, once his sketches of ‘‘Thrums” were accepted, there was .no looking back. His books had an immediate success, not only in Britain, but in the overseas Dominions and in the United States. Nothing succeeds like success, and imitators, who really never captured the Barrie spirit, sprang up everywhere, constituting what- was known for, years as the Kailyard School.: Barrie was born at Kirriemuir, a little Forfarshire toWn, which is the . “Thrums” of.'f dm mortal memory.; The U window” - was • that at which Jess sat for twenty years and looked out at the world as through a telescope. What a procession did Barrie make her see! And what a procession of literature lovers have passed through Kirriemuir in the intervening years! It is said that in the early days of hero-worship which was destined to bring wealth to the business people of the little town, an old resident was once asked if he knew Barrie. “Oh, yes,” was the reply, “he was a feckless loon who never did anything for his toon except write something abbot it.” The “writing aboot it” was indeed an endowment the value of which cannot be estimated in terms of pounds, shillings and pence. In the same way, it ,is impossible to estimate dhc influence which Barrie’s pictures, of homely, honest -folk-narrow, it may be, according to modern measure —have impressed upon generations of all nationalities. Amongst an innumerable host Of lessons is one which stresses that if any good impulse is to be given effect there Is only one time to do it—now. In “The Little White Bird” Barrie tells how Peter Pan, the little boy who beparne a bird and flew into Kensington Gardens,* thought often that he would return to his mother, whom he loved and who had grieved over his disappearance. He flew to her .window more than once; only to decide on a little longer stay with the birds. Then he really did'make up his mind. He came to the window. But it was shut. Through it he saw his mother hi bed With another little baby boy in her arms. He b ( eat his wings against the iron -bars. Then he flew: back sobbing to the gardens, and he ne-ger saw his dear again. What a glorious boy he had meant to be to her! “0, Peter,” says the author, “we who have made the great mistake, how differently would we act at the second chance! But Solomon (the wise bird of the gardens) was right: there is no second chance, not for most of us. When we reach the window it is Lock-Up Time. The iron bars are. up for life. ’ ’