# The United Amateur/January 1915/Department of Public Criticism

The United Amateur
Official Organ of the United Amateur Press Association of America
Department of Public Criticism
The Badger for January is the first number of a strikingly meritorious and serious paper published by George S. Schilling. We here behold none of the frivolity which spoils the writings of those who view amateur journalism merely as a passing amusement. The Badger shows evidence of careful and tasteful editorship, combined with a commendable artistic sense in choice of paper and cover.
The leading article, an essay on the minimum wage, is from the pen of the editor, and shows both literary ability and a sound knowledge of economics. “Sister to the Ox”, by A. W. Ashby, is an excellent short story whose strength is rather in its moral than in its plot. The editorials are certainly not lacking in force, and seem well calculated to stir the average amateur from his torpor of triteness and insanity.
The Inspiration for November is an “Official Number”, containing the work of none but titled authors. Rheinhurt Kleiner contributes the single piece of verse, a smooth and pleasing lyric entitled “Love Again”, which is not unlike his previous poem, “Love, Come Again”. As an amatory poet Mr. Kleiner shows much delicacy of sentiment, refinement of language, and appreciation of metrical values; his efforts in this direction entitle him to a high place among amateur bards.
One of the truly notable prose features of the magazine is Walter John Held’s delightful sketch of Joaquin Miller’s home and haunts. This artistic picture of Californian scenery exhibits a real comprehension of the beauties of Nature, and stirs to an unusual degree the imagination of the reader. Mr. Held’s prose possessed a decency and grave that bring it close to the professional quality, and its few faults are far less considerable than might be expected from the pen of a young author. However, we must remark some rather awkward examples of grammatical construction. The correct plural of “eucalyptus” is “eucalypti”, without any final “s”, the name being treated as a Latin noun of the second declension. “Slowly and dignified—it pursues its way”, is hardly a permissable clause; the adjective “dignified” must be exchanged for an adverb. Perhaps Mr. Held sought to employ poetical enallage, but even so, the adjective does not correspond with “slowly”; besides, the use of enallage in prose is at best highly questionable. “This free and rank flowers and brush” is another bad clause. But it is not well to dissect the sketch too minutely. A youth of Mr. Held’s ability needs only time and continued practice to raise him to the highest rank in prose composition.
Invictus for January, the first number of Mr. Paul J. Campbell’s new individual paper, is one of those rare journals concerning which it is almost impossible to speak without enthusiasm. Not one of its twenty-six pages fails to delight us. Foremost in merit, and most aptly suited to Mr. Campbell’s particular type of genius, are the three inspiring essays, “The Impost of the Future”, “The Sublime Ideal”, and “Whom God Hath Put Asunder”. Therein appears to great advantage the keen reasoning and sound materialistic philosophy of the author. “The Sublime Ideal” is especially absorbing, tracing as it does the expansion of the human mind from a state of the narrowest and most violent bigotry to its present moderate breath.
The three pieces of verse, “Inspiration”, “The Larger Life”, and “Down in Mexico”, ​are all of smooth construction and musical metre, though not exhibiting their author’s powers as well as his essays. “Down in Mexico”, a virile poem in Kipling’s style, is unquestionably the best of the three.
Mr. Campbell’s comments on amateur affairs are well-written and entertaining, especlally his reminiscent article entitled “After Seven Years”.
Outward Bound for January is an excellent journal edited by George William Stokes of Newcastle-on-Tyne, England. It is gratifying to behold such a paper as this, one of the links between America and the parent country which the United is helping to forge.
Herbert B. Darrow opens the issue with a short story entitled “A Lesson”. The tale is of conventional pattern, containing a sound though not strikingly original moral. The language is generally good, except in one sentence where the author speaks of “the vehicles in the street and buildings about him”. Surely he does not mean that the vehicles were in the buildings as well as in the street. The use of the definite article before the word “buildings” woud do much toward dispelling the abiguous effect.
“The Haunted Forest”, a poem by J. H. Fowler, is almost Poe-like in its grimly fantastic quality. We can excuse rather indefinite metre when we consider the admirably created atmosphere, the weird harmony of the lines, the judicious use of alliteration, and the apt selection of words. “Bird-shunned”, as applied to the thickets of the forest, is a particularly graphic epithet. Mr. Fowler is to be congratulated upon his glowing imagination and poetical powers.
“A Bit o’ Purple Heather”, by Edna von der Heide, is a delightful piece of verse in modified Scottish dialect, which well jusifies the dedication of the magazine to this poetess.
Mr. Stokes’ editorials, headed “Ships that Pass”, sustains the nautical atmosphere of his periodical. We wish he had given his thoughts a larger spate for expression.
The Piper for December comes as a surprise to those who have known Rheinhart Kleiner only as a master of metre, for he is here displayed as the possessor of a pure and vigorous prose style as well. In this, the opening number of his individual journal, Mr. Kleiner provides us with a pleasing variety of literary matter; two serious poems, two rhymes of lighter character, an essay on the inevitable topic of Consolidation, and a brilliant collection of short editorials and criticisms.
“A Carnation”, which begins the issue, is an exquisite piece of sentiment couched in faultless verse. The odd measure of the poem is one peculiarly suited to the author’s delicate type of genius; an iambic line of only three feet. The other lyric, “Heart, Do Not Wake”, is likewise of excellent quality, though the succession of “again” and “pain” in the first line might suggest to some ears an unnecessary internal rhyme.
“The Rhyme of the Hapless Poet” is very clever, and can be truly appreciated by every author of printed matter. Perhaps the misfortune of which the poet complains is the cause of the extra syllable in the first line of the second stanza; we hope that the following is what Mr. Kleiner intended: “I wrote a poem, ’twas a prize”. Otherwise we are forced to believe that he pronounces “poem” as a monosyllable, “pome”. “My Favorite Amateur” is a good specimen of light, imitative verse.
The article on Consolidation is cynical in tone, but eminently sensible. It is only too true that our greatest intellectual stimulus is found in controversy and antagonism; we are really quite bellicose in our istincts, despite the utterances of the peace advocates.
Mr. Kleiner concludes his journal with a sparkling epigram on a rather obvious though regrettable tendency in amateurs circles.
The Piper is in general a paper of satisfying merit, to whose future issues we shall look forward with eagerness.
The Recruiting Feminine for 1914–1915 is a publication of unusual worth. “The Rose Supreme,” by Coralie Austin, is a delicate little poem in which we regret the presence of one inexcusably bad rhyme. To rhyme the words “rose” and “unclosed” is to exceed the utmost limits of poetic license. It is true that considerable variations in vowel sounds have been permitted; “come” makes, or at least used to make, an allowable rhyme with “home” “clock” with “look,” or “grass” with “place”; but a final consonant attached to one of two otherwise rhyming syllables positively destroys ​the rhyme.
Mrs. Myra Cole’s essay on “The Little Things of Life” is well written and instructive.
“The Dirge of the Great Atlantic,” by Anne Vyne Tillery Renshaw, is a grim and moving bit of verse, cast in the same primitively stirring metre which this author used in her professionally published poem, “The Chant of Iron.” Mrs. Renshaw possesses an enviable power to reach the emotions through the medium of written words.
“Two Octobers—A Contrast,” by Eloise N. Griffith, is a meritorious sketch ending with the usual appeal for the cessation of the European war. We fear that the author cannot quite realize the ambitious passions, essential ingredients of human nature, which render necessary a final decision.
Miss Edna von der Heide, in an able article, rallies to the defense of Mr. W. E. Griffin’s now famous “Favorite Pastime.” The Modern Lothario is fortunate in having so competent and experienced a champion. However, we cannot wholly endorse the sentiments of these excellent writers. The statement that “all amateur journalists are flirts, more or less,” is a base and unwarranted libel which we are prepared completely to refute.
“The Audience,” by Mrs. Florence Shepphird, is a masterly defense of those inactive amateurs whom we are all too prone to consider as delinquent. It is indeed true that authors would be useless were it not for some sort of a reading public.
Toledo Amateur for December is a wholesome juvenile product. The typography still leaves something to be desired, but the evidences of care are everywhere visible, and we may reasonably expect to see it improve from month to month, into one of the lending amateur papers. Credentials from the keynote of the current issue, and a very promising assortment of recruits are here introduced to the members of the United. Miss Sandborn, who is fortunate enough to be one of Mr. Moe’s pupils at Appleton, contributes an interesting school anecdote, narrated in simple fashion. Miss Thie gives information concerning the “Campfire Girls.” Some new members of adult years are also represented in this number. Mr. Jenkins shows an admirable command of light prose, and will undoubtedly prove one of the United’s most entertaining writers. Misses Kline and McGeoch both exhibit marked poetical tendencies in prose, the latter writer having something of Mr. Fritter’s facility in the use of metaphor. Mr. Porter’s editorials are refreshingly naive and unaffected. His grammar is generally good, except in the one sentence where he speaks of the Toledo Times. He should say, “the newspaper which has given me much experience, and to whose publishers I owe a great deal of experience gained.”
The United Official Quarterly for November marks the beginning of a laudable enterprise on the part of the official board. The magazine is of artistic appearance in cover, paper, and typography alike, while the contents show considerable care in preparation.
Ira A. Cole’s essay on “The Gods of Our Fathers” is the leading feature, and though not of perfect perspicuity nor faultless unity, is none the less noteworthy as a sincere expression of Pantheism. Mr. Cole keenly feels the incongruity of our devotion to Semitic theological ideals, when as a matter of fact we are descended from Aryan polytheists, and his personification of the Grecian deities in the men of today is a pleasing and ingenious conception. We are inclined to wonder whether the author or the printer is to blame for rendering the poet Hesiod’s name as “Hesoid.”
The metric art is represented by three contributions. Paul J. Campbell’s lines on “The Heritage of Life” are smooth in construction and proper in sentiment, though they are far from showing their author at his best. Mr. Campbell is a supreme master of the philosophical essay and of pointed, satirical prose, being a very “Junius” in bold, biting invective; but is placed at something of a disadvantage in the domain of conventional poetry. Rheinhart Kleiner and ourselves revel in heroic couplets of widely differing nature. Our own masterpiece is in full Queen Anne style with carefully balanced lines and strictly measured quantities. We have succeeded in producing eighteen lines without a single original sentiment or truly poetical image. Rev. Mr. Pyke, the object of the verses, deserves a better encomiast. Mr. Kleiner, on the other hand, uses an heroic metre of that softened type ​which was evolved at the close of the eighteenth century from the disruption of the more formal style. In this sort of verse the stiff, classic expressions are discarded, and the sense frequently overflows from couplet to couplet, giving the romantic poet a greater latitude for expression than was possible in the old models. “Vacation” is not distinguished by any strikingly novel idea, but is in general a very clever piece of light work. The only substantial defect is in the eighth line, where the word “resort” is so placed, that the accent must fall wrongfully upon the first syllable.
Leo Fritter’s article on criticism is timely and sensible. As he justly contends, some authorized amateur critics deal far too roughly with the half-formed products of the young author, while most unofficial and inexperienced reviewers fairly run mad with promiscuous condemnation. The fancied brilliancy of the critic is always greatest when he censures most, so that the temptatitons of the tribe are many. We are at best but literary parasites, and need now and then just such a restraining word as our counter-critic gives us. Mr. Fritter’s style is here, as usual, highly ornamented with metaphor. One slight defect strikes the fastidious eye, but since split infinitives are becoming so common in these days, we shall attend the author’s plea for gentleness, and remain silent.
H. P. Lovecraft, Chairman, Department of Public Criticism