The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1875-10-09
Recent Publications.

~ well. IL Is IN tne T0te OF tbe TGc0nteur that
many of our modern writers of fiction fail.
Many of them write well, some brilliantly
Some are keen in the analysis of character,
some moral:ze or philosophize entertainingly
enough, some construct plot sufficiently dark
and intricate to satisfy those who delight in mys-
terry. But nearly all our American noyelists
are wanting in the dramatic quality. The
steadily increasing interest, the rush and hur-
~ of the story to an impending denouement,
always dimly foreseen yet constantly dreaded
aud hoped against, is lacking. The plot of st
SimoD's Niece is far from intricate. We ex-
pect the burs ting of the miHing bubble, the
rupture of the betrothal between Fanny and
the American, the increasing misery of Marion,
the downfall of Roland's hopes. from the start.
The only element of uncertainty is the conduct
OF Fanny after the collapse of the mining
scheme. This part of the story is admirably
managed, and gives opportunity for one or two
old-fashioned coups de theatre, as effective
and artistic as those which have made the for
tune of 'The Two Orphans" In this chief
and indispensable quality of dramatic vividness
the story is triumphant.
The action of the story is chiefly in Paris
though we take one flying trip to England and
another to Germany. The people are mostly
of the american Colony about as despicable
a lot of people, taken as whole, as often fig
CURE either in fact or fiction. The rapacity,
selfishness and toadyism of these afford St. ST.
mon and bis schemes an excellent field, and
one that is not suffered to lie fallow. ST ST.
mon himself is type of the American adven-
tCrer,-suave, daring. clever, the man of gi-
gantic schemes and visionary projects, deluded
by his own speculations, Colonel Sellers plus
unbounded rascality and sense of the ridicu
lous,-not uncommon now. He is a polished
barbarian, absolutely without heart but with
most excellent digestion, who swindles the pub
lie of million and his nearest friend Of hun
dred with equal grace and unconcern. The
man has rare grace and superabundant good
humor. Vicissitudes of fortune have given him
taste for Bohemian lite, have taught him to
smlingly accept any lot, to live with equal
| content in palace or garrett. A sensuous enjoy
| ment of all that is beautiful has led him to ex-
tract honey from every flower. harmless rose or
poison plant Dealings with other rascals have
bred in him an airy cynicism, an absolute con-
| tempt for honor or honesty. He is not an ad-
CudIdCtcI ~ 10 1luc, Uut uO 10 SOOu-uu
mored. That is certainly all we can reasona
| bly, ask of rascal A scoundrel can make
| himself SO disagreeable and has so strong a
| temptation to infrmity of tempar, that we ought
to be very grateful for his good-nature. 1t
| would be manifestly absurd to expect
| anything else of him-honesty for example.
| Doubtless the good-nature of st. Simon is due
| in some measure to the careless Bohemian life
| he often led. He felt no responsibilities bad
no respectablity to maintain, was free from
| the petty and wearing vexations which come
from an attempt to keep up appearances. To
the last he keeps up his liking for disrespect-
able people. He and his niece hold reunions
| of "shady people" and enjoy the gatherings
hugely. These scenes the author suggests and
| wisely does not describe. But through the
| half-open door we hear the clink Of glasses, and
gluck-gluck of wine poured from bottles of
narrow neck and the scent of flowers comes to
| US, and we catch the murmur of the perfectly
scandalous" but witty conversation of the
naughty but nice" people within. Indeed
| the book is full of feasting. aud must be fright.
full reading to those who hold that the first
miracle was, to use an art phrase done in
| Christ's early bad manner
OF the several women in the book but one,
| Fanny st. Simon, calls out strong interest Of
any kind. Marian is good but insipid, Helen
| Devereaux, whoms the author insists that we
shall like, is handsome, rich, clever, and would
doubtless be pleasant to meet-outsids of the
book But she lacks fire and passion, and in
her and her hero and the colorless love of the
two one does not easily get interested. The
''frst old woman Mrs. Pataker, serves vel
to illustrate certain phase of snobbery. tt
st. Simon's wife comedy business chiefly falls
She is sufficiently amusing for the purposes oil
the author and reader; but the story of her ear
ly life, half told, halt suggested, serves to dis
spate any lurking sympathy we may feel fol
St. Simon. Fanny st. Simon is a creation
deserving to live. The woman is subtilely
drawn. Her dark beauty commands our allie.
glance at first. Her invincible good-nature, he
kindness to all helpless things, call for respect
Her out-spoken cynicism, contempt of goot
professions devilsh cruelty where she hates
utter self-abnegation where she loves, capacit,
for great crimes and little meannesses, excite
an aversion that is tempered by admiration fol
her power, for her capacity for self-estimation
|
ic capabilities. The author has not fallen int,
the too common error of making his bad
heroine wholly good at bottom with blemshe
that only come from circumstance and training
with energies for evil that are only misdirectet
capabilities for good. Never orce will tn
reader sympathise with her chase of the Amer
lean million are nor hope for successful ssu
The meanness of opening one letter and forg-
ing another does not seem out Of place In her
for she has the minor vices as well as some o
the major. We cannot at any time expect any
thing different from what We are told. N viey
of her wayward blood and training. We know
that she could neither have been good nor hap
py had her wild love for Castlemaiue resulte'
in honest possession. OF course we pity he
aud sympathize with her. Nearly al
ways, because Of iunase depravity perhaps,
we fnd the bad people in a novel much
better and more interesting than thu
good. In this case however only legitimate
sympathy is evoked; judgment is not biiaded
aud the issue calls forth no complaint Il
seems inevitable, ful6Is all demands of poeti,
| justice, and is the only natural conclusion
Fanny's love for Castlemaine furnishes tn
l
fact of his unworthiness, evident from the be
ginning, even to her, detracts none from th
interest or natdralness of her passion. Indeed
one may easily believe that the love had it
birth in the seclusion of the Italian villa, il
the softness, and the beauty, and the tende
melancholy of the surroundings. Cas.lemaine'
beauty had little at first to do with it, thoug
afterwards she came TO idolize that beauty
Proximity aud the scene and the seclusio
might have done as much for man with
tithe of Castlemaine's physical attractions bu
with all his power of pleasing, The Low
| once granted and the circumstances taken int
| consideration the story hastens naturally ant
dramatically to its conclusion. 1t is handle'
with consummate effect Perhaps toucl
| which reveals the true artist more than an
other is placing the name of Marian on th
lips of the dying man. 1t IS Fanny's fittin
yet terrible punishment. 1t is in these las
| scenes that her character receives its finf