St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1894-02-18

human Artist. is not trying to handle
the beautiful all the time, to give
false Interpretation of life which shall
compel people to say how beautiful it
is. But he deals with significant things.
and reveals, without didacticism, their
significance.
III believe the beauty disease has
been the ruin of much good literature.
1t leads to paint and Dutty-artificiality
If thing is beautiful, we'll and good;
but do not believe in an artist using
literary varnish in writing of sordid
things. He can discover the beauty in
sordid lives. not by vanishing them,
but by sympathetic Interpretation of
them"
elf l can claim the honor of belong
ing to any literary generation at all, 1t
is to your generation. Garland. but am
really solaZy and leisurely that ought
to have lived In the eighteenth century
instead of in this. When l see the
amount of work young men of our day
are doing, l am appalled, at my own
gross habit of mind and body. Now,
just look at the long line of your books
standing stoutly shoulder to shoulder,
and you a man of only thirty three!
What prodigious worker you mast
ber'
''Well, you see, all my force, since l
gave up teaching, goes into my creative
work, but l never write under pressure.
L work precisely as some painters do. 1
have unfinished pictures lying around
m ynrlychnn aal,
morning | go into my writing room, and
whichever picture chimes in with my
mood, after glance around, claims me
for that morning. work on it as long
as find great pleasure in it. and / stop
the moment | am conscious of it becom-
ing grind. If 1 have any power left,
l turn to something else; if not, L quit
work and turn to recreation reading,
study, or go out for walk.
II do all my writings ON blocks of
manuscript paper, and L have stacks of
these lying around, as many as forty or
fifty, in various stages of completion. l
never write on any Ole thing day after
day just with the purpose of getting it
done. | believe thoroughly IN moods,
although do not wait for any particu-
lar MOOD, for am in the mood every
morning for something. L take the
mood as it serves. All my work inter-
eStS me supremelv, OF | should not
do it.
'ln writing my stories l conceive
thing i'll its Wilderness. and details come
by what may almost be termed uncon-
sciouS cerebratiOn. When | have the
first rough draft written, l read to an
expert typewriter and fill in the details
as l read. The sound of my own voice
keeps me very close to absolute colo.
quialsms, for | refer everything to my
ear, and so avoid all stereotyped con-
versations. In my conception i am sell
dom al fault rarely alter that, but
60 on adding and adding-mostly the
subtler touches and suggestions until |
am satisfied"
81 have noticed that you deal more
with the happenings of every day, the
struggle for existence, the intimate life
of husband and wife and mother and
children, than with the love-making
period of life, with which most noYelIsts
begin and end"
THAT is fashion In literature which
must largely pass away. Counting is
not mans whole life, by any means.
and the love-making age is not usually
the age of the deepest reflection and
feeling. The drama of life does not
usually begin in real downright earnest
until after marriage, and for men whose
whole lives is long struggle for exist
ence, the courtship periods very brief
one, and sooD, perhaps, an insignificant
memory. try to give in my stories
picture for the larger issues and phases
of life under certain conditions as l
have known them. My aim Is to truth
fully represent the common working
farmer-tne renter and the hired man
as we'll; to take the three men out Of
five rather than the one out Of ten. !
aim to put in the proper proportion of
dusty days, rainy days and cold days,
the proper proportion of terrible toll
and pleasuring. l think have in my
own work largely solved the problem of
giving my characters occupation the
same prominence and influence which
it has in real life. l have heard that
many writers find this the most difficult
part of their work-and if they write of
farm life without experience, | can
quite understand 1t.
~ see life from the working side of
the fence, and not from the buggy of
the visiting city novelist. l was one of
the men binding the grain under the
scorching sun, and was not noticing
the CLINT and simmer of the light on
the golden grain. The beauty of the
scene is there truly enough, but be.
meath it ali Is pain and squal0T. / aim
to put all there is in the scene, on the
surface and beneath, into my pictures,