Literary Veteran Severely Criticises Modern Writers

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 376, 9 June 1928, Page 28

Literary Veteran Severely Criticises Modern Writers

George Moore, London ’s New Playwright Idol Scorns Contemporaries

SPARES KIPLING AND BENNETT

George Moore, the veteran novelist, poet and essayist, who, at the age of 76, has just achieved his ambition to have a play produced, has brought down much wrath upon his head for some scathing remarks attributed to him when he was interviewed on his belated success as a dramatist. These remarks were severely critical at the expense of his contemporaries, of the modern emancipated woman who attempted to follow in man’s footsteps and of the reading public generally. Some of his opinions, as published, were so astonishing that it was thought they might have been either misinterpreted by his interviewer or not uttered in the belief that they would be taken seriously, says the London correspondent of the New York “Times.” He has corrected one expression in the interview. He was quoted as saying, “There is not one of my living contemporaries worth talking about.” He now says that this was a too sweeping generalisation of his views, and that it did not apply to the admitedly outstanding writers of the present day. “For instance,” he says, “I have always admired Mr. Kipling, and look upon ‘Kim’ as a notable addition to English literature, while Arnold Bennett’s ‘Riceyman Steps’ will not pass away quickly.” Criticism of Hardy Undenied

But no denial is published of some remarks credited to him which deal with the works of tw'o authors, now dead, who were also contemporaries of his. Thomas Hardy, he was quoted as saying, could not write two lines of correct English together, and his “Tess” was evidence that he had no insight into human nature. Instead of being considered a master of English country life, Hardy should have been considered more like a countrv schoolmaster. Admirers of Hardy resent this criticism as not only unjustified but also ill-timed, coming so soon after the death of the famous novelist and poet and the many glow’ing tributes that were paid to his memory by the leading litterateurs of the day. According to the interview, Mr. Moore was just as ungenerous to Joseph Conrad. “Conrad’s works,” he is stated to have said, “will be dead in a year. Anyone could write the sort of stuff he w T rote about barges floating about in green-blue hazes. In j

my opinion, this generation is *he most sterile of any there has been in the way of literature. There is not one outstanding genius. It is much the same with music and art, just a mere spitting at the stars.” Then Mr. Moore made a statement which has aroused the indignation of women. “When women try to spit, too, and do what men do,” he said, “the position is worse than ever. It is as ridiculous for women to think they can compete with men as it is to suppose that with the wave of a stick it it possible to turn a white rosebush into a red one. Women were far better off when they sat up in a tower embroidering beautiful tapestries rather than patting balls over a net from one year’s end to another.” He blamed education, of which, he said, there was far too much for women, who ought lo work with their hands rather than their brains. Women Take Up Cudgels Indignant women novelists, artists and musicians have hastened to combat this criticism. Mrs. Belloc Lowndes, the novelist, disagrees entirely with every word of it. “Given equal opportunities,” she says, “women would achieve equal success "with men. They have not had equal opportunities in the past, and they are still handicapped by life. Nevertheless, they manage to compete very successfully with men. Miss Flora Lion, the artist, has taken up the cudgels on behalf of her profession. “Art,” she says, “is not a question of sex. Women in art are proving that. Women have painted some of the finest pictures of the century. Look at Mrs. Laura Knight, A.R.A., for instance, and Mrs. A. L. Swynnerton, A.R.A. Sargent himself, once told me that he thought Mrs. Swynnerton’s work was ‘superb,’ and he bought a good many of her pictures.” Mr. Shaw’s Modssty Another eminent writer, Bernard Shaw, has been indulging in a criticism of famous English authors. But that is no new pastime for him, especially if it involves a thrust at Shakespeare. He and his wife have been staying at Llangollen, in Wales, in a suite of rooms once occupied by Robert Browning. So when he spoke to an interviewer about Browning he was in an appropriate atmosphere. Browning, he said, was a great poet and dramatist, but was far below Shakespeare. John Bunvan was greater than either, even in mere technical adaptation to the art of the actor. Bunyan’s speeches, he added, were as good as Shakespeare’s tirades. Mr. Shaw's views on the works of Shakespeare are given in the preface to his play, “Caesar and Cleopatra.” Bearing the title “Better Than Shakespeare?” that preface seeks quite can didly to prove to the satisfaction of the playgoer that the Shavian Caesar is an improvement on Shakespeare's But further on he adds: “It does not follow that the right to criticise Shakespeare involves the power of writing better plays. And in fact, do not be surprised at my modesty—l do not profess to write better plays.” Coming from Mr. Shaw, that is, indeed, modesty.