The San Francisco call., 1896-07-19
JOqQUIN MILLER
Defects Noted and Virtues Praised
in the Work Of the Poet
of the Sierras

Ellen Burns Sherman in the current mum Der
of the New York Critic has lengthy criticism
and eulogiuIn of joaquin Miller's poetry. 1t
is the leading article in the issue of July IL OF
that strong literary paper. Miss Sherman says
that if the records of the past are TO be trusted
there was in Mr. Miller's case something more
than the usual polite apathy with which a
genius is sometimes tolerated by his own kin
and country. The extravagant praise of the
English critics, who blazoned Joaquin's name
with glory about twenty years ago. seemed
to induce an allopathic treatment of the poet
in his own land" She declares that MilIer's
countrymen have heartlessly ignored his
claim to high rank as poet and that nine out
of ten wellresd people in this country know
positively nothing of Miller's poetry.
"In all of Mr.. Miller's longer poems," says
the writer in question, "there are q certain
largeness and grandeur in keeping with the
region which has inspired his song. his pic
lures are all large canvas size, while our East
ern poets have painted little panels, and in
stead of the giant forests and rivers have given
US pictures OF a single posy or dainty etching
of a secluded frog pond"
Miss Sherman discusses both the defects and
virtues of Joaquin Miller's earlier verses, and
asserts that zone finds in Mr.. Miller's shorter
| lyrical poems knowledge never learned of
schools, which may well silence the critic who
would teach him the rules of rhythm" The
concluding paragraph of the article is fol-
lows: at hardly seems possible that any
candid reader of Mr.. Miller's poems will deny
that our kindred across the water have leaned
! TO virtues side more than our selves in their
| enthusiastic praise OF Mr.. Miller. Far from
resenting England's appreciation of him, SIM
| ply because it would give him higher rank
on our poet roll than our own country would
concede, we should acknowledge trans-Atlan-
tic applause with some show of grace, If there
| is a chance for any at this late day. We have
not so many poets who Can write like Mr.
Miller that we can afford to let one of them
pass into oblivion by our neglect. If such
neglect finds explanation in causes re-
Iating to the man rather than the
poet Ia point upon which the
present writer has no definite information) it
still seems hardly generous or just to make no
Communication of sentence to a man whose
early environment might have made an out
law of one with far more sluggish pulse than
Mr. Miller's. But, even if we are minded TO
review the poets life, we may safely follow the
spirit of his own stanZas on Burns:
In men whom men condemn as i'll
find much of goodness STILL
In men whom men pronounce divine
find so much OF sin and blot,
hesitate 10 draw a line
Between the two, where God has not.
Referring editorially to Joaquin Miller's lat
Critic pays this rare tribute:
ait will always be more or less of a mystery
to those of us who belong to the aftermath
generation why our seniors have allowed a
poet like Mr.. Miller to be so neglected. Some
of us, who have had the good fortune to dis
cover him acciden tally, cannot get over feel
ing of righteous indignation that our teachers
and instructors should have fed us so long on
the dry scholastic husks garnered from every
oIf M Our w &c
Mr.. Miiler's poems was set before us. How
ever, we will try to forget the perverse and un-
toward conduct of our forebears in the glad
ness with which we welcome new volume of
| poems from the Poetof the Sierras. Perhaps
Mr.. Miller has purposely waited so long for
second generation foreordained TO know and
| cherish him. If so, we think, he has not
waited i'll vain. for his Songs OF the Soul will
surely bring about Miller renaissance which
we hope win make the unwittingly ignorant
look up his other volumes OF verse.
"The same originality and freshness of
thought and imagery which characterized his
earlier poetry appear in this new collection.
But there is a marked improvement in its
metrical structure. In the longest poem of the
book, 'Sappho and Phaon,' stanza after stanza
! moves along with the ripping glide OF canoe
in still water, and everywhere we find new
tokens of the poets old passion for nature:
somehow dreamed, guessed, or knew
That somewhere in the dear earths heart
Was warmth and tenderness aud true
Delight and all loves nobier part.
"Whether it be of mountain, sea, river or the
dark enfolding night that Mr.. Miller sings we
catch always the same rare and tender
melody. Listen to his song OF the twilight:
1 love you, love you, maid of night
Your perfumed BREATH your dreamful eyes,
Your holy silences, your sighs
OF matchless longing; your delight
When night SAYS, Hang on yon moons horn
Your russet gown, and rest till morn.
Now perfumed Night, sad-faced and far,
Walks up the world in somber brown.
Now suddenly a loosened star
Lets all her golden hair fall down.
And Night is dead Days coffn-d,
With cords of gold shot through the pail.
.'simply to quote him, is the highest praise
to be rendered poet who can write like this.