The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1895-05-15
THE CONFESSION OF AN AUTHOR.
Book, He Says, Is Like Firing
Shot In the Dark.

Writing Book, He Says, Is Like Firing
Shot In the Dark.
All of us who write books fire more
or less into the dark-into that
strange, hazy outside world where
they read books and do not write
them. The image of the marksman
will last a little longer. We peer
into tho uncertainty, see people of
this kind and poor people of that,
portly, serious men, anamic earnest
men, massive, responsible men, jo-
vial souls, blades, a multitudinous
variety of fools, grave, tender wom-
en- with pure minds, wild, adventur-
Gus women with pure minds, re,
spectacle women dccently impure,
earnest women indecently pure, Gu
rious youths and maidens, a vast
multitude, reading, reading, reading.
There arc worked out folks needing
distraction, miserable souls asking
for comfort, real or sham, curious
minds requiring plausible new solu-
tons of the great paradox of things,
babes awakening to strong meat,
We authors and authoresses and
authorlings regard them steadfastly.
II will have yonder good woman"
says one of us, and bang goes his
book, full Of purity and pathos.
There is a yelp, and Il Philistine gen.
tleman rolls over, touched profound
ly. II will appeal to my wronged.
unhappy sisters, says an authoress,
frankly and openly, % and SO plows
a long lane through the crowd,
achieving quite heap of curious,
rihald young men, IA silver bullet,
says another of lis, "the costliest
material and the best of workman.
ship and he hits no human being
bags only a brace of unsubstantial
reviewers.
Tho great majority of us, authors,
authoresses and authorlings, do not
know our readers. All of us have
an idea, but VIC feel tho chances are
against it's being correct. One would
like to try something of this kind, a
sort Of agony advertisement opposite
the title page: If you find this book
altogether satisfactory and can con-
veniently spare the time, will you,
dear reader, come to'-Kensington
Gardens, say-"at 3 o'clock on the
lst Of May, with white flower in
your dress or buttonhole, as the case
may be?" It might be most de-
lightful gathering for some of us.
Ono would like to sec Professor
Drummond's assembly-a curious
crowd of serious people without SOL
idity-or Huysmans'.
It is O. dream of course. for very
few readers care enough for any au-
thor to take as much trouble as the
walk demands. The unhappy genius
would simply meet q large crowd of
curious people-reportcrs and all the
rival geniuses-and not one of them
would have flower. 1t is a pleas
ant fancy, though incredible, to sup
pose tho author finding just one SOL
itary white blossom-dropped shyly
near the gates. It would serve for
a sonnet perhaps. But the real read
or would remain unconfessing and
unseen. Move shall never meet
that reader Of ours upon earth, that
guardian reader, loyal and affection
ate, who watches over each one of
us. It may be we shall meet him in
another world-him or her. In
heaven, it may be.
| Literary criticism is overmuch
given to ignoring the reader, a fault
that needs correction. Books are
not written in the absolute" they
aim. And the reader is, or should
be, the aim of them all. It is absurd
to review a book entirely, as people
put it, ION it's own merits. That
has ever been the vice Of academic
criticism. But you might as we'll
Judge shooting without looking at
; the target. Here" your critic
, might say, lis an admirable marks.
. man. Notice the pretty turn of his
wrist, the sympathetic twinkle in
his aiming eye, the perfect correct
ness Of his protruded foot, the elias
steal finish of his sighting" HE
has missed?" "What matter? The
J target is q fool" This leads to {
pessimistic view of targets. And as
suredly the reader is the aim Of the
, hook. or Why is it written?-LOndo