The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1903-04-05

for the telling OF sentimental spinsters
fortunes.
We dislike the pinkness of American
fiction, for the reason that most OF this ic-
ton is transferred to the boards, and our
drama is thereby the sufferer. Our dramal
Our fudgei Yet Bronson Howard Us far
ahead Of the fiction makers, and We would
not exchange an hour Of q yde Fitch for
q cycle Of Richard Harding Davis.
Are we really to believe that feminine
we employ Mr.. Aliens phrase as handy
one-will rule forever9 Why Is there alb
sent the tragic note in America? Why are
there 80 few shadows and inequalities?
They exist, no doubt about that. but the
anilla-cum-lemonade school will have
none OF them. It Ia bad taste to dig up
ground that is dirty and ill-smelling
Rather cover up the Doggy spots--turning
heads politely away from the rank odors OF
corruption-with pretty turf, sentimental
grasses, flowers of fancy. Then poke In
an American flag. cheer suavely-patriot-
ism is rather coarse-and get away as quick
ly as possible from the pest-breeding terri
tory. Has that been the practice Of the
great novelists-Charles Dickens. William
Thackeray-not to forget q certain Henry
Fielding before his time-Charles Reade,
Daudet, Balzac. lola, not to mention the
Russiansf Did they not thunder at the cor
ruption OF social systems. at the bandages
put on natural sores by sneaking polti-
clans, at abuses Of Church, State and mon
archiess In America, of course. according
to Mr.. Howells, these things are out OF
place. How self-satisfed and optimistic
We are!
A. l. 81
lists or playwrights. No need to blame
II on the country. on its prosperity. on it's
superiority to other nations. That way
Pecksniffism lies. And why have We no
novelists such as Thomas Hardy or Gorky?
Simply because we would throttle them
In their cradle at their first outbreak
metaphorically speaking. In peer Gynt, :
Ibsen's ionic. fantastic poem-a topsy-
turvey Faust-the erratic hero encounters
in one OF his adventures the Boyg. What
In Boyp? Like the Shark. 1t turns into a
Boojum when you attempt TO overcome 1t.
It's chiefest power Is non-resistance, all
Oriental trait. II Is vast, II Is Shiny. 1t 10
all encircling. Push 1t from you and THE
Boyo gives way-so do you; you fall into It..
are encompassed by IL. 1t cries aloud
but one phrase, $50 roundabouts.' II is
public opinion. habit. the spirit Of COM
promise. William Archer calls II vague,
shapeless, ubiquitous, inevitable. in
vulnerable Thing When the time is ripe
here a man will be born who shall slay the
Bovo, a. Sieefried slew the dragon. Like
the painted flames hemming Brlnnhilde's
rock. the Boyo is a fiction. 1t has no OBJ
jective existence-except in the back offices
of publishers. There 1t rears It's horrid
head and feeds upon royalties. Some.
times the Bovo is called Mrs. Grundy.
It Is this impalpable monster-a sort OF
.what-is-it' in the story Of Ftz-James
O'Brien-that sits 80 heavily upon the
national conscience. It drove a master
into the skirting mists of allegory-Haw-
thorne; 1t unsettled Poe; 1t sent Henry
James to England. Mr. Howells was never
at war with the phantom, so It did not
modest his gentle idealism. When Edgar
Saltus wrote some exceedingly accurate
and brilliant studies Of New York life the
Bovo promptly spat out it's abuse. Mr..
Saltus was pronounced immoral To-day
these novels might be read at mothers
meetings in Brooklyn. The Bovo shifts
every few years. Frank Noris-a dead
genius-gave the Boyo battle and 1t re-
treated; 1t always does; there Is the danger.
The victor advances brandishing his pen
and presently the .vapors lay him low.
He becomes popular. Probably the one
man who had the brain and Drawn to drive
the Bovg away for q tme-only for a time.
be 1t remembered: the Bovg is eternal
was Marion Crawford. Think Of his early
Drifting to Leeward' and think Of
no use to particularize! You recall your
Browningi The Lost Leader'f The Bovg
got him early. It's the Boyo that makes
bakers Of us all.
And the case Of Richard Harding Davis
oh, yesl we were speaking Of him. were
we not7 Well, the tanning Of Mr.. Davis
must have been In the nursery. He has
not an ounce Of genius, though he has
pretty trick OF telling tale. We are in
clined to think that Mr.. Charles Dana Glib
son has played the part Of JekyA to Mr..
Daviss Hyde-or put 1t the other way; better
fiction armament; the Castor and Pollux
OF New Yorks Paternoster Row Mr..
Davis without Mr.. Gibson Is thing incon-
ceivable. Mr.. Gibson sent the Davis young
man and the Davis young woman nh INTO the
patterns with which Mr.. Davis filed his
story books had a local habitation when
Mr.. Gibeon's clever pencil traced their
outlines upon his drawing board. This u
II not meant to alternate Mr.. Davis's talent.
The De Goncourts elaborated, and to-day
there is an author In Paris who signs his
books 81 H. Rosny.' There are two OF
him-two brothers who write as one.
We do not exaggerate when we say that
Mr.. Davis fulfils one OF Mr.. Howells's precepts.
He avoids reality with meticulous care:
he Is often operate, though as Q rule his
women are OF wool and his men Of saw
dust They are tall, lanky. dressed a Ia
mode, and they are provincial In their man
ners and tastes. They may be seen at the
Waldorf-Astoria and kindred establish
ments. Incredible as II may sound. some
Americans, mostly from out OF town. youth
full and not too intellectual, endeavor TO
act and look like the Davis folk. How
ever, to have Influenced the garb Of ones
generation for brief period Ia something.
Once Mr.. Davis did write a story, q short
story about man put on probation by an
ecclesiastic whose daughter he wished TO
marry. Therein he began well. But he
met the Bopp-in his easel social prestige.
Art went under, ideals vanished In the hot
house atmosphere that surrounds certain
sections Of the vast, encircling creature:
When he wrote for the etage-how easy II
all seemed Dear old Van Bibber and
SOLDIERS Of Fortunc'-and now THE
Tanning Of Helen 1t Is not Helen Cobot,
but Richard Harding Davis who Is tanned.
tanned nv the snares Of the Bopo'