New-York tribune., 1896-12-27
THE MARK OF THE CELT.
IT'S RARITY IN CONTEMPORARY CELTIC
FICTION.

|
The EpisoDEs SsSfA'hs By % Fiona Macleod DuOdeelmo.
| PIP. 2s9 Chicngo Stone & Kmba!l
THE GREEN GRAVES OF BALGowRIEiD EiDodH by
| lane Helen Findatcr. octave. PIP. 5iI. Douu'
| Mead & Co
| THE GRAY MAN. Novel Ry s r. Crocke'''
Illustrated Octave pp 4Os. Harper & Bros
KATE CAENEGIE BY. Ian MacIaren. Octave
| PIP. 35s. Dodd. Mead Co
ROBERT URQUHART. BY Gabriel setoun. oc-
| tayo. PIP 339. II. f. Fenno Co
| Tho Cells brthrigh, IS OF the spirit and the
thing which sets him apart from other racial types
| Is a quality which has more to do WIN mr.
| rhetoric than il has with his everyday methous W
| living This point eudes many OF our 'ei'o-
| maniacs and they have edited the world py tap.-
| ures over ordinary. stupid English books WIN"
| have been about Celtic as so many reports ho''
| the secretary Of a Green Grocers' Debating DO
! ciety II Is d-of-tile-century to he CeItic Jus'
ms IL Is end-of- -he-century to he ntie decaueh''
little Ihscnc little OF anything that tries TO on-
| scure inherent puerty by high sounding woro''
| Hence even the Scot who was once proud OF 'na'
| name ia now a little proucr when he Is calico
| Celt and likes to talk about the Celtic strain IN
himself and his follows The curious part OF IL -
that their works the most exautsiteiy noh-'e''l
| productions that were ever written. stories III
which there is not a gllmmer Of that spirit 10 which
| we have alluded.
Mis- Fiona Macleod gives an excellent iilus'ra-
al
she helps us 10 see what it is not. for comparison
| Of her work with that Of many OF her con'em-
! porarcs shows them In sorry plight SHOWS
them. that is. in their rightful coors The rcader
who wants know what the Celtic spirit Is would
far better turn to Green Fire or the iittie VOL
| uinc Of shorter pieces which is specified above.
than to believe in any OF the formuiae offered him
by the critics II is Intended indeed upon
| the present OCCASION 10 bring forth any Ceitic
formula. The secret Of Cel,ic beauty. which is to
say the secret Of that poetic glamour whlrh Al
aches to veritablc Celtic thngs Is the mysterious
OF all instructive poetry. all artless beauty
1t exhales from the genius of the race like the wild
fragrance of some hardy flower nuriured amid
mountain streams and near the shadow or deep
forests. one Iiay feel 1t: ore cannot put 1t INTO
words To analyze It is like framing epgrams
upon the grandeur Of the sea. No has ever
tried successfully 10 put the magic Of EiiZabethan
poetry into definition. No one need try to de
scribe the Celtic Genius with precision The most
that be said OF II is that 1t means pecu-
larry obscure and ftfully passionate way OF
drenching the substance Of life in imarinafion. in
seeing the world through eyes that are perfectly
confident OF seeing some day into the dark places
of The Celt is born romantic.st. Facts
are to him invariably symbolic. He reads al! his
life enchanted ground and the daily round OF
existence is surcharGed for him with the inde-
nnable forces of the clements He is supersitious
he is n dreamer he Is everything In the world that
IL not commonplace But when all this has been
said the Celt remains unsolved and the judicouS
reader concludes simply take him he finds
him. thanking heaven for his Incompatible witch
cry.
Miss Macleod confirms this forcibly in her two
books of romance She gives us very little un-
couth speech--she leaves that specious nonsense
for the writer's who with greater de-
liberation. She sends her ina ginaion Gying
through the woods and along the coasts OF Bril-;
tany her narrative moves she has drama. char
actcr feeling and running through it all she has
this streak OF poetry which may he classified ne
Celtic but - too rare and too magical TO be ever
described on u label Color flames In her pages
The situations themselves are picturesque. new
and stirring. but their setting is almost as impress
sive. the romantic figures moving always amid
scenes would be called fairy-like il they
not II the reader, We repeat. wants to
know Just what the Celtic spirit is, let him seek
1t in Miss Macleod. She has her little affecations
Of literary style. now and then. but in the main
she is true her inspiration. one that means
romance poetry. mystery. the tangle OF the Wild
wood and the cry Of the hawk haunted val
ieys.
Beneath all Celtic feeling though it be
pitched on the highest note OF gladness there
"A steady stream " penslve melancholy. In writers
who take their Celtic selves very seriously this
me5ncho'y is pure morbidness. They hug their
tragedies. They make capital out OF them They
write tales like The Green Graves Of Ba gowrie
to provoke laughter Miss Findlaters story is bout
4 brainess widow two artificial and deadly dull
little girls'-daughters OF the wdow-and
drunken priest who Is also q vapid seniinentalst
She gets these peope together at Balgowre in the
.ast century shows the two girls growing more and
more affected and duh year after year. and kills
them both OFF at last with air. who should
say: Behold the art Of this thing. Given two little
girls "A crazy mother and lover. with pict-
uresque on house for them to live in. and can
melt you 10 tears" Now. there is not genuine
tear to be extoried by this book 1t is In the last
degree sophisticated The Celtic twilight In which
the author bathes her scenes Is manufactured
obviously as the midnight gloom in modern melo-
drama-and the machinery does not work SO well.
But II Is In The Cray Man" that We have the
pseudo-Celt at his best Here the machinery runs
riot and churns the most astonishing mess
some fragments from Scottish annals, a great deal
OF what is most bourgeois and commonplace in the
authors literary taste. and countless clots OF the
shbboeth which. as has been said is TO the Celto-
maniac-and some "Ce.ts'-what heather" is TO
Mr. William Black The reaction against realism
Of which we have heard so much is a noble thing.
but 1t makes the reader vince when II gives him,
under the pretence Of romance such a farragO OF
blood and thunder Mr.. Crockett has set forth 1t
Is all very we'll TO talk about the 'hcartsome" town
Of Balantrae and TO say that a man had to 'ad-
venture from point to another when he merely
had 10 go on journey, but the clash OF deadl.'
weapons grows wearisome after while Why are
weapons always deadly? Why do they always
clash? The romantic novelist may know but
10 one else does. Mr.. Crockett talks In what We
believe Is the speech OF the Celt II really
the talk OF Wardour-st prentice, and though
romance Is writ across every page In flaming co...
ors It somehow fails touch The imagin ton with
the first hint OF the thing Itself.
Romance Is not affair Of pasteboard helmets
and spectacular whacks which are healed BY the
kisses OF "chatelane." Neither is 1t the special
property Of the young girl budding into woman
hood" nor OF the youth with the first godlike i'm
pulses OF q struggling In his storm-tost soul"
Rubbish! But the truth having gone abroad that
Romance is OF the richest possessions Of the