Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-01-21
From Max o'Rel's Book on America.


-ERs AT TrME-HE COMPLIMENTS THE AccU-
RAcY AND SKILL OF THE NEWSPAPER MAN
From Max o'Relrs Book on America.
Journalism has killed literature. and re-
porting is killing journalism. 1t is the last
gasp Of the dying literature of an epoch; it is
the man of letters replaced by the concierge"
So exclaims NJ. Albert Millaud, in one Of his
witty articles in the Figaro
In America, reporting has simply overrun.
swallowed up journalism. It is demolition of
the wall Of private life, the substitution of gos-
sip for chronicle, of chatter for criticism.
For the interviewer nothing is sacred. Au-
daclty is his stock-in-trade; the most private
details of your daily life are at his mercy and
unless you blow his brains out-which is not
lawful In New York state-you have no means
OF getting rid of him.
Do not believe you have got over the diff
Guilty by having him told that you are not at
home. He will return to the charge ten,
twenty times; he will stand sentinel at your
door, sleep on the mat outside your hotel bed
room, so as to pounce upon you as soon as you
show your face in the morning. He is patient,
and if any indisposition should oblige YOU to
keep your room he will wait till YOU are well
again, and will have his meals brought to him
In the corridor. Should you succeed in escap-
ing the hunter. rather than return to the news
will find your wife. and ask her If you snore
whether you are an early riser, whether YOU
are the more amiable after dinner or before,
what you eat at breakfast what is your favor
lite color In trousers, and what size boots you
take. He will ask her when you were married,
how long your honeymoon lasted. if you have
children. and whether they have cut their
teeth. With these materials he will make up
a column.
There is no question too indiscreet for these
enterprising inquisitors; they would have inter-
viewed st. Anthony in his hut
Do not shout victory, either. because you
have succeeded in getting rid of the inter
viewer without replying to his questions. 1t is
in such cases that the American journalist re-
veals himself in all his glory. To your stupe-
faction. the newspapers next day will have an
account of the conversation which you might
have had with their reporters.
Ii my advice be worth giving, the best thing
you can do. when the interviewer presents him.
self and says, Il am a reporter, sir and have
come to ask you for few moments chat" is to
say to him:
Mad to see you, sir; pray be seated"
After ALL interviewing Is an operation that
one survives, and, to be Just. must say that
American reporters in general are very courte-
Gus, obliging, and-which is simply astounding
when one considers that they rarely take
notes-accurate in their accounts of inter-
views.
The courage, too, with which the interviewer
braves rebuffs and the philosophy with which
he pockets abuse, are nothing short of admir-
able. For my part, never could find cross
word to say to these intruders, and l had my
reward in reading in the papers that'''it was
pleasure to interview me, because submitted
to the operation with such good grace"
On the 18th of November, 1887, at 9 a. m, the
Germanic after a terribly rough passage of
nine days, entered the magnificent harbor of
New York. The sun had risen resplendent in a
cloudless blue sky. We had Just passed Bar
tholdi's statue of Liberty Enlightening the
World" and it seemed as if France were not
far off. 1t was sweet sensation, and instinct
lively raised my hat. All at once the Ger
manic stopped. A little steam tug drew up
alongside and there stepped ON board a few
custom-house officers, followed by several
other persons.
Look out!' cried one of my fellow-passen-
gers, seeing that appeared to be unconscious
of danger.
What is the matter?" asked
"The Interviewer
Nonsense, not here, surely" exclaimed
No sooner were the words out of nv mouth
than two young men handed me their cards,
with the announcement that they were Jour
nalists.
1--WE have come to present our respects to
you," they said, ''and to wish you a pleasant
time in our country"
While they uttered these words, they scanned
me from head to foot, jotting few strokes on
their notebooks They were taking nv por-
trait, which appeared next morning at the
head of the articles that the press of New York
thought fit to devote to me. The portrait was
f1attering one. One paper, however. gave
the following description of your humble
servant:
MAX O'ReI is rather globular Frenchman
of about forty" Then followed description
of my travelling suit and other effects.
'GlobularI' the idea!
Forty" No, gentlemen, hardly thirty-nine,
if you please.
After a graphic account of his being inter-
viewed by eight reporters in the afternoon of
that day, and of the running fire of questions
to which he was subjected, Mr.. Blouet con-
tinued:
With the exception of phrase or two. occa-
sionally jotted down. they took no notes of nv
answers to their questions and wondered how
1t was possible that, with SO few notes. they
would manage to make an article of hundred
or two hundred lines that would be acceptable
In an important paper, out of an interview so
insignificant and SO devoid of interest, accord
ing to my idea. as this one.
After having spent nearly two hours with me,
the reporters shook hands. expressed them
selves as much obliged to me and went their
way.
How childish these Americans must he,
though /; is it possible that a conversation such
as have just had with these reporters can in
terest them?
Next day procured all the New York morn
ing papers, more from curiosity. l must say in
justice to myself, than from vanity. for was
not at all proud of my utterances of the day
before.
Judge of my surprise, on opening the first
paper. to find nearly two columns full of anus
ing details, picturesque descriptions well-told
anecdotes, witty remarks; the whole cleveriy
mingled and arranged by men who, had
always supposed, were mere stenographers.
Everything was faithfully reported and
artistcally Sc. down. The smallest incidents
were rendered interesting by the manner of
telling. You might have imagined that the
whole thing was the first chapter of novel,
commencing with the majestic entry of a
steamer into New York harbor.
Well, said to myself. the American Journal
ist knows, at any rate, how to make sayory
hash out of very little.
Three years ago. when Mr. Grover Cleveland.
President of the United States, married the
prettiest and most charming of his countrywo-
men, he chose Deer Park as a suitable place to
spend his honeymoon in, far from the world
and its hustle, and, above all, far from the re-
porters. However, the President knew only
too well the spirit of enterprise that possesses
reach of the interviewers and make sure of
tranquility, he thought it well to employ eight
detectives to guard the approaches to his re-
treat. The number was soon found insufficient,
for the enemy made his appearance in the
neighborhood. The pickets had to be REIN
forced, and week later twelve argus-eyed
watchers were on the alert to prevent any per-
son whomsoever from getting within 800 Yards
of the cottage. The interviewers were out
done, and had to admit themselves baf,ied.
The papers had no details worth giving to their