ROMANCE AND REALISM

Otago Witness, Issue 2811, 26 August 1908, Page 87

ROMANCE AND REALISM

A NEW ZEALAND POET. The above modern interpretation of Goethe's " Dichtung and Wahrheit " is very strangely exemplified in the life and work of a New Zealand poet, Charles Oscar Palmer. Samuel Smiles expended whole volumes on men scarcely more eminent or worthy, and in this matter of I " self-help " Palmer presents a very genuine appeal. As a poet he is the apostle of a sublime optimism, and an ardent and conscientious artist, who is pleased to deliver his message to the age, but possessing absolutely no desire for popular acclamation. His gospel may be summed up in hard work and the religion of eternal hope. But his poetry retajns an inexplicable quality of power. Often melodious, sometimes exhibiting a mere parody of his better "work, Palmer gives the idea of a giant strength st-riving to interpret almighty aims and ideals. He suggests a modern parallel to Prometheus Bound. The national traditions of this poet are claimed altogether by the Dominion, his .grandparents being representative types of our earliest pioneers, his paternal grandfather (who- traded between Sydney and the Taranaki coast) practically boasting a home in Zealand prior to the foundation of Nelson Settlement. Of English extraction, Charles Oscar was born at the old ' whaling station, Kaikoura, North Canterbury, in November, 1872, and though he taok a great .delight in books, poetry especially, from a very early age, his eighteenth year was 'attained before reaching the sound financial position necessary to- complete the purchase of Longfellow's poems. From this very un- . promising beginning was gathered together an extensive -library, and, it is needless to say, English poetry answers for^a good many tightly-packed shelves. In those early years our young poet, co touched with the romantic and renascence spirit of the period, toiled laboriously in the bush and out-back sheep stations, where intellectual (to say nothing- of poetic) sympathy was a very rare quantity indeed: When 25 he widened his provincial horizon by paying a visit to Wellington, and since that pleasant epoch has often enjoyed weeks at the capital, the / greater proportion of the time in the library^ reference department, the remainder in congenial company of friends whom his writings have gained for him. About 1898 he made the acquaintance of Henry Lawson, the well-known Australian writer of verse and short stories, at that time teaching in a New Zealand Native school. Lawson was then in the zenith of his early success, and- not slow to encourage his brother poet. Pahneiv however, cared very little for the later Australian attitude to life and literature, and discovered far more to suit his tastes, in the work of Kendall, and' even Gordon, than any of their successors. Our singer has since gained recognition as a poet by the London and colonial- ' press, publications in both Britain and j the colonies accepting his verses. It certainly seems a far cry from a, popular London magazine to a little out-back bush farm, and 'tis hardly in keeping with one's general ideas in regard to writers to find Palmer doing all kinds and conditions of hard manual labour about his district, such a, bushfelling and ditching : | the reason "to make a happy fireside I clime tae weans and wife," and our poet ooneide-re the peaceful pleasures of h:s "am fireside wi' them " to far outweigh any possibilities of recognition and fame.' j Such an attitude may not be picturesque, I but it is heroic, and 'tis very stimu- | lating to find an author who is prepared | to carry his theories into practice when poets are still supposed to be very irresponsible. Truly " romance and realism " are nobly combined in this robust personality. But there is no suggestion of anything untoward in each a record*. With his dream for the returning dignity of labour, no mailed knight of the brave days of old ever entered the lists with a firmer faith or a stronger heart than this poet of the earlier twentieth century. And no reformer of modern years has lifted co certain a voice in urging forward the claims of "the simple life." When thus dealing with an a nti -decadent, one is not inclined to overlook G. K. Chesterton's significant dictum that- most men are underrated. It is exceedingly novel to turn from the platitudinous political stump-orator, who talks vociferously regarding what he i-3 about to do for his prospective constituents and the country, t& one who &ays, " I am doing " — a man who is prepared to claim that duty which lies nearest to him. With a bitter sneer for the introspective sentimeirtalism which permeates so much modern pseudo-religi-ous writings and decadent verse, and an equally utter contempt for the antithesis • — the "get on or get out" theory, this poet of the New Zetland vrilde seeks consolation in the older and braver poetry, religion, and outlook. He is therefore a rank conservative (although, of course, a democrat). But it is the conservatism of progress. Like Whitman, Thoreau, ' William Morris, and others who have lived as well as sung or wrote their message of reform, it is impossible to divorce Palmer's personality from his writings. He exhibits a eomewhat rare example of personality in poetry, or the poetiy of personality. A peculiar and. felicitous phase of his work is the retention of th© old Maori nomenclature. Places, plants, and, in fact, everything, gains a romantic significance when designated by the sonorous Native accents. The ancient Maori tradition is jndeed a paesion Arith Palmer, and there js genuine pathos in lines like I the&ejj

Over the craggy Kaikouras, Soft from tha murmurous o&ean^ Stealeth the silvery haze. ' The toa and stately tonunga- , Are passing, to never return. Over the forested - foothills, Farmhouse, and hedgerow, and fiel^ \ Stealeth. the silvery moonlight; . >" Oh, eloquent cross of tha Chiristiaa \ Against the gTey west silhouetted, * *, How long is thy mana — how long? But here is a modern and diverse ati&i tude, displaying lyric intensity ans technique, although marred by /being somewhat trite: — - -- Gone into the light! The shadows gather deeper where we stanc^ But he who stood beside Ler in the night, Doth hold His daughter's irand. . The glopni of parting said tie vain xegret-« The wintry times are ours — Her feet upon celestial meads are Bet, Amid -unfailing floTrers. . As a bookman the young colonial i 6 in touch with the ttrrmoil of thought, the fleeting phases of'-our religious and scien-. tific ti-end, and social status, and hi* watchword is, to quote his own bravf lines : Fight on in th« f»itb, Jtlift promise of ft** . morrow . Is dimly seen to-day, and OUt of ihe life .of this ■ fleeting age Groweih a grander era. With all his faults and failings as » literary roan, Palmer still remains a genuine poet, and if his message is some* times a little obscure ii^is always valianti.* .We hardly think any such clarion call' has been heard from a native-born New;Zealander, a. clarion call for the higher life and- better -things. His voice rings into harmony with those of the old! prophets, and no one can ebudy Ms verses without bein«j touched by a bracing influence. And it is not altogether what? this poet does or proves but what he suggests and inspires. The following" lines, reprinted from the English Elusc trated Magazine, present him in a chaw acteristic mood : — O dost thou hope to be a poet? — thrill . ... To the bliss and terror of the multitude, Then pour their passion through thy throW bing line ? O wcmld'st thou be immortal? — stand subc lime, Alone, mayhap, above the ways of men, And hold communion with the highest? Hea< Far whispers from the stellar world and wilt Hei secrets from primeval solitude.? Then let the pulses of the universe Swell throixgh thy song to sway the nob!«* „ soula Of bards unborn and bless the demi-gods ■ Who ba<ttle for the future! Would'st thou be A moon-eyed mystic, doomed to drink the dreams From aged folios? Go forth l end find A* fastness, lonely, under hoary hills: .- Therp clothe thy spirit with the woods antr, ■ olouds ; There hear the. thunder of "the torrents till Thy soul is stirred and thou art ■ forced if * eing A song, deep-toned, as theirs. O would'st thou weild A gceptre that will sway the human soul , "VThen dread Oblivion ahorwds thy drifte* dust? ' G-o! Bear a mortal's burdens; sorrow, -wita.. The sorrowing, and with the ijlad rejoice, And God will crown thee with His love «C last. 2fo brighter laurel bindoth manhood's brow\f As .no collection of Charles Oscarf. Palmer's poems has yet appeared, refer-^ ence can be made to the files of th« „ Otago "Witness, in which journal * majority of his verses have been printed*