Literary Notes

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1115, 14 July 1893, Page 11

Literary Notes

'1 would rather be a poor man in a garret with plenty of books than a king who did not love reading.'—Lokd Macaulat;. Publishers and booksellers nre invited to send books and publications of general interest for notice in this column, thereby enabling country readers to be in touch with the latest works in the Colony. Address all communications for this column to the Literary Editor, New Zealand Mail.'

GOSSIP.

The death of poor Guy de Maupassant, the French novelist who went mad about a year ago, is reported in the cablegrams this week. He was of a good old Norman family, and many of his earlier novels had their scene ,laid in Maupassant's native province. He was born in 1850, but did not make his literary debut until 1880. Flaubert was his literary master, but his influence is not very apparent in his pupil's later books. Two of De Maupassant's novels, 'Pierre et Jean' and ' Afloat,' can be had in English at the Wellington bookshops. The twin stories, '" Yvette' and 'Bel-Ami,' appeared, very poorly translated, in English some four or five years ago, under the respective titles ' A Woman's Life,' and ' A Lady's Man.' Both were simply ' shocking,' from a Mrs Grundy point of view. From the Bookman for May I condense a few facts about Mr Maarten Maartens, a clever young Dutch author, who, writing in English, . has become so well known. He was born in Holland in 1858, is a perfect cosmopolitan, speaking several languages, and has travelled a great deal. His first book (a capital novel), entitled ' The Sin of Joost Avelingh,' was published in England in 1889. 'An Old Maid's Love ' was published in April, 1891; ' God's Fool,' a powerful story, appeared last October. These novels, which are highly thought of by leading English critics, may all be purchased in cheap editions at the Wellington bookshops. His latest novel is entitled 'The Greater Glory,' and is now running in Temple Bar. Mr Maartens considers ' God's Fool' to be the best thing he has done. ' Le Docteur Pascal,' Mr Zola's new novel, is'the crown and consummation of the Eougon Macquart series. It is to be published shortly in Paris, and an English translation will not be long before it appears. As showing the immense number of books written, but which do not find a publisher, it may be mentioned that last year Messrs Chatto and Windus, the famous London publishers, received no less than 633 M.S.S. for consideration. Of these 44 were accepted for publication and 619 declined. It is Mr Chatto's opinion that out of amateur novel writers only about three in every hundred find their way into print. Mrs Humphrey Ward is said to be busy with another novel, the subject of which, however, has not yet been disclosed. Mrs Ward is reported to be comparatively a wealthy woman, both ' Robert Elsmere ' and ' David Grieve' having been very great financial successes. Nothing succeeds like sue cess, and it is probable that her third work will also enjoy a large sale. Mr J. M. Barrie's next novel, upon which he is now hard at work, is being' eagerly competed for by those very important people, the publishers. The scene is to be laid in Scotland, and no doubt we shall again be introduced to some of the ever delightful Thrums folks. Mr Barrie's books have quite cutstripped those of Mr Stevenson in the race for popularity. A prominent London bookseller says that he sells more of Mr Barrie's books than those of any other living author, not excluding even the great, Kipling himself, who, however, runs Mr Barrie very hard for first place. ■ Messrs Baillie, of Cuba street, announce that they are now booking orders for Mr Kipr ling's new book, ' Many Inventions.' They inform me that there is a very large sale for Kipiing's books in Wellington, and as soon as they receive a full stock of this popular author's works they speedily sell them out. ■ In the Idler for May, Mr Bret Harte has a short Californian story, quite in his old style, that of ' The Luck of Eoaring Oamp,' etc. It is entitled 'An Ingenue of the Sierras,' and is most readable. We meet again our old friend, Yuba Bill, who is just as gallant to the ladies as ever he was in the old days. In the Idler for May also there is a capital article by Mr Robert Buchanan on ' My First Book.' Mr Buchanan gives some very interesting reminiscences of his early struggles in London, to which, as the traditionally impecunious but industrious and always hopeful Scot, he came with the equally traditional half-crown in his pocket. George Henry Lewes, George Eliott, aud Monckton Milnes, amongst others, gave him a helping hand, and by dint cf perseverance and hard work, he managed to make a headway for himself in the crowded mar of modern letters. He is charmingly frank in his souvenirs, and gives an amusing picture of a dinner party he attended shortly after the publication of his first poems. He was very elated at his success, and says : ' Poor little pigmy, I thought creation was ringing with my name. I think I must have been rather conceited and " bounceable," for I have a very vivid remembrance of a Fortnightly dinner at the Star and Garter, Bichmond, when Anthony Trollope, angry with me for expressing a doubt about the poetical greatness of Horace, wanted to throw a decanter at my head. It was about this time that an omniscient publisher, after an interview with me, exclaimed (the circumstance is historical), ' I don't like that young man; he talked to me as if he were God Almighty- or Lord Byron.' \

In the course of his most entertaining article, Mr Buchanan has a characteristic sneer at the demon ' Respectability,' which, according to him, is doing so much to kill modern English fiction and verse, but what he has to say on this subject is much too long to quote. I can cordially recommend the whole article to my readers. The letters of the late Mr James Russell Lowell will shortly be published in two volumes. They ought to be very readable if the witty author of the Biglow Papers put as much humour into his private correspondence he did into his published work. Mr Richard Harding Davis, the young American author who wrote those very amusing sketches entitled 'Gallagher and Other Stories,' has recently been travelling in Morocco, and is-shortly, to publish an account of his trip. At Tangier he succeeded in gaining admittance to the famous prison of that famous place,, which few strangers are allowed to visit. • The most frightful atrocities are said to be perpetrated in this prison, and if Mr Harding was' permitted to see any of the Moorish punishments carried out he should have a blood-curdling story to tell. Mr Marion Crawford has declared himself to be half a mystic. Speaking of his new literary work, ,he said he owed half his literary success to green tea. It was green tea which wrote 'Mr Isaacs.' At that time he had no faith in the ' astral body ' theory, but only saw the possibilities of the subject from a story-teller's point of view. Asked about the extraordinary powers .which have been ascribed to certain wise\men in the East, Mr Crawford said that'these-powers really existed. Tigers are faced' with indifference in the jungles, diseases can be traced, and life prolonged. He says the wise men never try to make converts, and rarely show their marvellous powers to the'Europeans. The Bookman says that' Mr Rider Haggard has just completed a new novel, • which, we believe, will be somewhat in the manner of ' Beatrice.' It will be called ' The Way of the Transgressor.! ! ,■, .'._! A very important biographical work is shortly to be issued by the firm of Longmans and Co., namely, Dr Liddon's 'Life of the Late Dr Pusey.' . i i ■ Dr Conan Doyle has written a story for Arrowsmith's- Summer'; Annual, which was to be published at Home at the end of last month. Those who remember Dr Doyle's poem, ' The Song of the Bow,' in ' The White Company,' will, be glad to hear that he has written a new poeni whiph will see light soon in one of the leading magazines. ■'». .."'■■■ ■ Most of the leading English weeklies have ruthlessly slated Mr Francis Adams' book, ' The Australians,' because, no doubt of the ultra democratic tone of the work. Mr Adams was for some years on the staff of the Sydney Bulletin, and is far too outspoken for his writings to find, favonr with many of the English critics. He is, however, gaining the ear of the public, and so long as his books sell well, in the favour or otherwise, of the log-rolling critics, S really doesn't matter much. ■■[. There is a delightful interview with Walter Besant in the Sketch for May 2, with illustrations taken at \the popular novelist's pleasantly-situated house' in the north of London. In the course of the interview, Mr Besant told.the Sketch representative that he thoroughly believed in the attractive character of love stories. He said :—ls not love the one absorbing subject of life ? See how every other topic ceases to interest a roomful of people, who may have been discussing politics, or one of the questions of the day, as soon as love is mentioned. Just think what a large portion of our lives is taken up with thinking of love. Yes, I shall keep on writing love stories. There* is no other passion which is so fascinating to the majority of us. Mr Besant, however, admitted that all the successful novelists' of the day do not write on the subject of love. He said:—'lt is a mistake to think that every novelist writes love stories.. Bobert. Louis Stevenson, for example, has. not done so yet. Rudyard Kipling mostly depicts the seamy, disappointing side of love. \ What.a wonderful fellow Kipling is! Who can write poems like he can, songs with a dash and • a thrill about them that are unique? ,You hear the gallop of horses through sortie of his stirring lines. But Kipling does not use love as his basis.' Referring to the fact that the Athenajum had called Kipling ' The New Dickens,' Mr Besant said—* I should prefer to call him " Kipling the New." There can hardly be a new Dickens or a new Thackeray. They had their styles exactly'suited to their public, and belonging to the literary period in which they lived. But we don't want more imitators of Thackeray or, Dickens while we have men like Stevenson, Hardy, Barrie, Rider Haggard and Kipling, each with an individuality of his own.'" It may interest many who have read ' Donovan ' and other of the novels of Edna Lyall, to know that that lady is a great politician. She is an ardent Gladstonian, and recently attended arid spoke at a Home Rule meeting at Brighton.- ' Professor Henry Drummond, the author of that remarkable and wonderfully popular book, 'NaturalLaw in the Spiritual World,' has been creating quite a sensation at Boston by a series of lectures on ' The Evolution of Man.' The lectures are said to be the first connected attempt to deal with the subject, and when published in book form will doubtless be canvassed with great interest in scien* tine and religious.circles. Mark Twain's latest published volume, ' The Million ;Pourid .-Bank Note' and other stories, is rather a'disappointnient. The first story is readable, 1 , but riot much more than that, and the Others, with the exception of a good yarn of a Continental experience, are but sorry stuff. Oh for another ' Tom Sawyer' or • Huckleberry Finn'!

A very interesting interview with Mr Eobert Louis Stevenson appears in a recent number of the Westminster Budget, a paper which has very much improved since it started, and is now one of the best of the many English weeklies. Mr Stevenson has a great affection for the Samoans. He says:--' The boys are a perpetual fund of interest and amusement to us. They are all gentlemen. • The Natives ?' queried the interviewer. 'Oh, yes,' replied Mr Stevenson. 'I scarcely know a native who is not a gentleman. For that contemptible creature the cad is peculiar to civilisation.: Our ancestors were not cads, and you will not find the creature in Samoa, The native may cut your throat, but he is not a cad. You can always live peaceably with him by judicious conduct.' The novelist has no white servants.

Eeferring to his books, he considers the most successful to have been that weird story, 'Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.' Asked whether this were not intended as an allegory, he -replied—-'Yes, an allegory dealing not wholly with the good and evil principles in man's nature, though that is the most dramatic side of it. .The idea has always been borne in upon me that man has not one, but many conscious centres, and the medical profession actually took up the idea. Many of the public don't see the allegory, but I would set no limits to the'stupidity, of tha public' Amongst other interesting facts Mr Stevenson stated that he was 33 before he made a penny by his pen.

Chatting about modern authors, he said : «There is a lot of the living devil in him (Kipling). It is his quick pulse beating that gives him a position apart. Even with his love of journalistic effects and other defects there is a tide of life in it all. And he has done some very striking things. The whole picture of the battle of the " Drums of the Pore and. Aft "is a capital achievement. Take another story. It is one in which there is a description,of three men in the hot weather in India, who are suffering from insomnia. What is it called? "At the end of the passage," !■ .'think. It is spoilt to my mind by the stuff about the Kodak and the image on the dead man's pupil. But the picture of the man suffering from insomnia is fascinating and stirring beyond conception.'

Strange to say Mr Stevenson didn't like ' Tess of the D'Urbevilles.' ' I read Hardy, but I could not manage ','Tess." I found it in flagrant contradistinction with all I knew of human nature. I must confess'l have not read the whole book. But there is much in Hardy that I read with the greatest delight.' C. Wilson.