The Book Page SHORT STORIES IN THE MODERN STYLE

Southland Times, Issue 23816, 13 May 1939, Page 14

The Book Page SHORT STORIES IN THE MODERN STYLE

“Sterile And Uncreative”

> (SPECIALLY WRITTEN FO R THE SOUTHLAND TIMES)

By

ERNEST BEAGLEHOLE

This Tongan village is a good place in which to read books; good, I mean, in the sense that here one reads because one wants to, because one is looking for amusement and relaxation, for swift transport from the humdrum, everyday life of the village. At home I read books mostly for instruction, sometimes from habit and with the same compulsive persistence that makes me smoke my pipe. In consequence I read critically only when reading technical volumes. When reading from’ habit I glide along from one page to the next without bothering much over content or style. Here in Tonga, however, the case is different. I want, as I say, to be interested and amused. If I am not, I immediately ask of my book why and why not? I have just finished reading a selection of modem short stories (“Selected Modern Short Stories,” edited by Alan Steele: one of the Penguin Books) and I am appalled by their futility and lack of interest. Style there may be and style aplenty; The craftsmanship and handling of words are often superb. But it all seems sterile and uncreative, just as any technique, no matter how brilliant, soon grows wearisome to watch if the craftsman can do nothing more than show how skilful he is. Technique, after all, in story-telling as in surgery or pottery making, is only valuable if it enables the craftsman to achieve a desirable end with skill, economy, and a sure hand. Where the end is missing, the technique becomes the merest empty display. FANTASY AND PATHOLOGY That in fact is my quarrel with these short stories I have just read. Look for a moment at the subjects the writers have chosen. There are 11 stories by as many English writers. One fails to interest me in an elaborately slight anecdote about the devil visiting some English village. Two more deal with the fantastic; one, in fairy-tale fashion, with a South Seas princess who was turned into a Louis Quinze clock; the other, with the meant-to-be humorous adventures on this earth of a fiend from Hell. The South Seas story has nothing to do with the South Seas. The writer has obviously never been to these islands and the scene could equally well be laid in Siberia or the Harz Mountains. As for the fiend from Hell, well, all allegedly humorous satire of this type makes me yawn, look at the clock, and wonder how long it will be before dinner is ready. Of the remaining eight stories, four deal directly with some form of insanity. One tells of a murderer suffering from a psychological abnormality known as a fugue; the second gives us some account of a woman suffering from religious delusions; the third deals

with a man unfortunate enough to believe that he was a leopard in a jungle; and the fourth apparently relates a story about some invalid in a bath chair which collides with a door. (I say “apparently” on purpose: a fairly careful re-reading of the story leaves me uncertain whether the invalid collided with the door or the floor. Not that it matters much for anyone . . .) FACT BEATS FICTION I have no objection to storie? about insane people, so long as there is point to the story. In fact, I get much profit and pleasure professionally in reading case histories about insane people in books on psychiatry and abnormal psychology. But here the case histories “stories” are told baldy, pointedly, and with no obfuscations from consciously displayed literary techniques. The result is wholly admirable and satisfactory in a way that leaves these four stories, with all their wordy introspections and capitalized Someones and Voices and Jungles, far behind as entertainment and simply not in the race as instruction.

There remain four short stories out of our original 11. One is about a hurricane. The incident is simple . but superbly told. One tells of a day in a woman’s life. The day' is eventful, the words to describe it a shade too many. A third tells of a group of beggars meeting in some Welsh mountains or other. The situation here is dramatic, the telling equally so. The final story is about a vicar, tricked by a beautiful gypsy to punish liim for refusing midnight admittance to a young travel-worn Oxford student. The incident is far-fetched; but the technique just makes it credible. SPURIOUS ORIGINALITY Eleven modem short stories, of which only four deal with recognizable human beings, showing recognizable human emotions in recognizable human situations! Originality of plot or scene or character is valuable in any short story. When this originality, however, cannot be found in the infinite variety of everyday humanity, then I, for one, refuse to believe that real originality is present. And I refuse to be interested in elaborate pretences that only serve to gloss over an inner intellectual poverty. This poverty it is which hides beneath the spurious originality of two-thirds of this modern selection of modem short stories. If they are truly representative of English writers of short stories today, well—well, give me the gossip and scandal of this Tongan village every time, At least it is interesting and at least it combines pure realism and pure fantasy in a blend that would have made even Maupassant envious!