The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-06-21
THE NEED OF THE NOVEL,

THE NEED OF THE NOVEL.
Novel-readers are not in a position to die
tate the form in which their favorite intel
lectual and sentimental fare shall be served
up nor do they, indeed, desire such an ex-
treme privilege. For the sake of genius,
which we are told should be unhampered, this
is, perhaps fortunate; but, in view Of the
fact that the readers have their tastes and
prejudices, and that without readers the novel
would cease to be, it seems only
reasonable that they should be al
lowed to indicate their preferences in
this line It may be held by some that the
multiplicity of authors affords all needful OPP
portunity for the qualification of individual
tastes, each reader being given choice from
among varied styles. This is hardly the cor
rect view of the matter. Story writer's of a
certain kind are many, and their works nu
merous as the sands Of the sea; but the list is
short of novelists who write for all the world
books which ali the world reads. 'H they
are universally read, is lot that enoughw
Apparently it is-for the writer's. They
fall into mannerisms which they take no
pains to correct. They repeat themselves by
dressing up their old characters in fresh
clothes, and palming them off as strangers,
for no other reason that can be told than the
trouble Of introducing new ones. More than
all, by sort of freemasonry, or the fatal sus-
ceptibility Of the literary mind, they adopt
each others bad habits until certain similar
ity of style obtains, to a greater or less de-
gree, in nearly all the novels Of aperiod. Some
times one feature comes to the front, some
times another. Just at present the reader of
magazine liter allure and the summer
novel feels moved to complain of the FREEDOM
nance of natural scenery and the weather in
the tales told for his delectation. It is &C
knowledged, Of course, that the men and
women whose history is narrated must have
ground upon which to move and have their
being; but it has recently become the custom
to leave nothing to the imagination Of the
reader. When young woman looks sadly
from her window, in November, it is but nat
ural to infer that she gazes upon gray sky
and fields sodden with rains or brown
with frost. Should it be June, as
is not uncommonly the case in
novels, and the young woman INDUCES in
moonlight ramble with her lover, it may be
taken for granted that the moon shines with
a silver radiance never before known, and that
the sound of the sea echoes in their ears like
sweetest music. If the hero is riding through
the country he will, if he have the delicate
sensibilities which no hero should be without,
be deeply moved by the shimmering shadows
which hang over the distant mountains, and
the primeval forests through which he may
pass. The average reader has, in the course
of his life, experienced many Of these
landscape and atmospheric effects, and, given
but the merest outline, will undertake to sup
ply the appropriate sentiments for any given
occasion and surroundings. But he is not
permitted to do so. If the sky is blue, the
novelist mentions it with particular attention
to the softness or brilliancy of the color and
the prevalence of clouds Should rain fall,
the down-pour is described with minuteness.
If there is a river in the story. its curves and
ripples are not out of sight for any length of
time. Meadows and orchards are unfailing
features in this novelistic land
scape gardening. Altogether there is
too much of it. Some of the recent
stories are irresistible reminders of those huge
paintings which represent miles of forest and
the shape of lone fisherman, or it may be
cow, usually in corner of the foreground,
but often in dim perspective. What the novel
readers want is less stage-setting and more
and better actors fewer landscapes and more
"fgure pieces" The fiction which has pict-
ured human life until the characters have
taken their places with the those Of actual
history has devoted little space to atmospheric
studies and picturesque descriptions of field
and flood. A return to this species of novel
would be welcomed as change. Let the
writer's take heed.
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MTNOP MlNTION