The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1903-04-19
DIR. KINGSBURY'S LETTER.

fnftfons as there arc writer's OF novels
Each one has his theory, good or bad
MANY of them write Of the decay Of thu
novel" While some of the recent novels
those of the last four or five years
are doubtless strong, entertaining ant
some morally healthful, there has been
world of trash produced. and what /
worse. caught up and read. Decadenc
is here. and the producers and readers
increase. One novelist insists that
novel should be but the writer's expert
Cnce. Another holds that it should ok
press the intensity of the struggles o
the soul. And so each one has a theory
But the best of them admit that it is al
era of very crude and unrewarding pro
duction, in so far at least as the reader,
are concerned. The great novels ar
neglected, and the poor, namby- pamby
inartistic ones are read. Thackeray il
showed aside while all hands rush int
The Cabbage Pat h." and devour anC
fill to repletion. A hopeful sign is tina
some of the ablest writer's concedt
the infcriority of most of the product
Mr. Benjamin Swift, an English author
of grip and vigor-an able writer anc
thinker-says that much of the Literature
HAbANAfh uON 10 eAiIttttlN SuptihN
and yet it is useful for it ministers to
the needs of public that insists on being
fed on scraps" Even Thomas Hardy, who
was graceless and strong enough to write
such very virile but immoral novels as
Tess and Jude approves OF say
ing of Mr. Swift's that IAN immoral book
hides truth and creates fools para
disc and a mirage that misleads." Mr.,
w e. Norris, a novelist of ability, does
not think that the vast stream of novels
now flooding the world has much to do
with literature at ALL" Mr.. Eden Phil
potts. one of the foremost of present
noveIists. thinks well of "our best fic-
ton, " saying it lis careful and conscien-
tious. even distinguished. but below the
work of the masters. He says the mass
of fiction is written by the half educated
for the half educated and that about
describes it. He says, and with truth:
"The flame and stencil of stuff that sells
its hundreds of thousands of copies is
mistaken for light and sweetness by the
mass of readers" Mr.. Kernahan, a
novelist of repute, says that much of the
fiction writing of today is but aims Civ
ing to the imaginative. 1t is the
building of sort of Parish Poor House
And the writer calls it "execrable stuff .
Another laments that cit is true we
have no giants-no Thackerays or Scots -
and adds that "a public gets the lit
erature it deserves" and this l believe
to be exactly true. Another novelist
writes that "the great stars are not yet
TO be seen rising above the literary
horizon" In the face of so much gushing
praise bestowed on some fifty or a hun
dred novels written in a few years it may
strike one as absurd that "the great
stars have not lately appeared. And
still that is forever true. / get the ex-
tracts from the February number of the
New York Critic" But it may be urged
in defence that the critics are absurdly
at fault, and that they have caused the
trashy stuff to be so eagerly deyoured.
This is only true in part. Scores of the
most popular books would have been read
with joy and approval if no critic had
written a line concerning them. The
public crave eXcitment, and reading with
out cultivated taste the third or fourth
rate books are apples of wisdom and sat
isfying sugar plums. A writer in the
Monthly correctly says that "the
person whose taste is formed on trash
will have a trashy taste to his dying
day" OF course he will, He has no
higher than his own poor taste,
for he knows absolutely nothing of the
great authors and the men of acknowl-
edged creative genius and power. What
can a fellow ever know of Mozart or
Mendelsohn who never heard anything
but cheap banjo with a break down
tune? How can a lover of Corelli ever
love Thackeray or Scott? The critics.
who have high standards based upon the
great authors, may generally be trusted
but now and then they indulge in non
sense. A writer in the Atlantic puts
Anthony Trollope but "a little below" the
great ThackeTay. Marvellous Read that
able English critic, Sir Leslie stephens
late paper on Trollope, and you will find
a calm, judicious estimate of pleas
ant, clever author without true genius.
The over-praised novels sell, some die.
a flood of puerile praise can not save
them.
Recently conversing with an unusually
well cultivated and intelligent lady, we
talked of the great outpourng of fictions.
so few of which have any true artistic
and mental worth. / mentioned to her
AAGI III tih1 ietst AiAiA y VI ipi ~ Stett
there had been produced in England five
novels of conspicuous merit which gave
them rank above all others, I thought
I did not vouch the moral worth of all
They were:
1. "The Cloister and The Hearth" by
Charles Reade.
>. 1.-The ordeal of Richard Feverel," by
George Meredith.
8 Lorna Done" by Richard Black
more.
4 John Inglesant," by John Shoit-
house This fine writer died a few weeks
ago. Literature is a loser thereby.
3. Tess D'Urbeyille," by Thomas
Hardy.
The last is very original, strong and
but pitiably vile.
In this connection let me mention that
biography is indeed ono Of the most in
teresting and instructive kinds of read
ing, Good biography to a cultivated
mind is about as entertaining and stimu
lating as a good novel by master. There
are three lives of Napoleon now accessi
bic that are well worthy of attention
The one by William O'Connor Norris is
very readable, and it is the fairest book
ever written on Napoleon by an Englis'I
man 1t is a valuable work for its limi