Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1913-12-01
A DAY WITH G. q. SHAW.
A Personal Sketch of the Satirist by
an Unframed interviewer.

| a visit to George Bernard Shaw at his
country home in Guildford. l had been
/ commissioned by a firm of publishers
! to write a book-or, rather, half
| book-on Shaw, the other half to be
! devoted to the life and work of George
Moore. Shaw had written promising
to give me what help 1 cam" and
went to Guildford one Sunday morn
! ing, armed with a postcard giving me
elaborate instructions how to find Pic
| cards Cottage. Come straight along
| the card concluded there will be
! time for stroll before lunch if it is
! fine and if you are not too tired"
Going up a lane off the Portsmouth
| road, / suddenly came upon Shaw; he
| was arranging a camera in the front
| garden of his house. 1t was bright
morning in January, with two inches
| OF snow on the ground. After greeting
me, he pointed to a chair placed out
| side on an embankment, commanded
me to sit down upon it, and forthwith
| proceeded to take one photograph after
/ another of my embarrassed eounten-
| ance. F'ull-face. three-quarter face,
! profile; sitting down, standing up,
| leaning forward, looking up at the
sky; smiling, frowning: all these and
many more he took; / protested weak
! ly, feeling acutely miserable.
Why was he doing it? Was II test
! of my endurance? Or was he merely
! playing with his camera as kind of
toy? At length he was satisfied, and,
| inviting me into the house, took me
into the drawing-room. told me to sit
down, and then placed in my hands
1 80 vi a
brilliant weekly of Frank Harris's
which was too clever to live. Read
! that, he said, opening the journal in
/ the middle and indicating a certain
! page. l obeyed. 1t was review of a
/ book and the book had been written by
me. I have read many scathing re-
4 views, but this was the most merci-
/ less l remember ever to have seen. The
i full column held me up to irreslst-
ible ridicule-ridieule that l new real
! ize was fully deserved. My only ex-
cuse for writing a wretched book is
/ that ] was nineteen, and boys of nine
teen do many silly things. AS l read
] the review, Shaw stood in front of me,
/ his legs astride, his eyes mercilessly
examining my face. He was watching
to sec how | would take it. Realizing
/ this, I concealed my misery, read the
article to it's biting end, and made
some casual remark about its clever
ness And now" said Shaw, let
us go for a walk
But he ran-or so ii seemed to me.
/ H wore no overcoat, and added no.
! thing to his clothing save cap and
a pair of wooden gloves. Striding
along ct the rate of five miles an hour,
! his arms freely swinging, his face
glowing with health, he began to talk.
He talked about Sidney Webb. the Fa-
bian Society, Karl Marx, Janet Ach-
urch, Manchester and himself. Pant
ing along by his side, l said nothing
( but "Yesi" and NO" whenever ii
seemed necessary to say either one or
I the ether. He was Overwhelmingly
brilllant-so brilliant that l became be-
/ wildercd. Having Travelled up by the
4 midnight train from Manchester l was
already tired, and the champagne-iike
! air, the light of the sun on the snow,
the quick walking and the constant
I stream of talk from the wittieSt man In
England, reduced my brain to chaos
How ardently did l long to say some
thing that would sound even intelli-
I gent! What would l not have given
to be able to say even dozen words!
But ne betrayed no sign that he was
/ conscious of my stupidity. Suddenly
he ceased both walking and talking
and | found we were opposite large
house nearly concealed by trees
THAT" said he, solemnly, lis where G.
! F.. Watts lives" And. turning on his
heel, he resumed his scamper over the
GOWNS
I An hour later, having covered ter
miles, we were back at Piccard's Cot
tage. Midday dinner was served al
most at once. Mrs. Shaw and / ate
meat and drank wine; Shaw hlmsei
Toasted on vegetables and fruit, among
which I remember a dish of raislns
While he ate, he talked. He told me
about Mrs Annie Besant, about
I new system of shorthand he was
studying, about Granville Barker, who
only a few days before, had in this
very house been rendered almost tip
sv bv bottle of wonderful cider. And
at length. we began to talk about the
book was to write about him. He OBJ
iected to having only half boob
written about him and his work
george MOOTt, ilC ooiN' 49,
over again, lis quite big enough u
have a whole book to himself Ane
was left to infer that this remarf
had a double application
7 asked him if, in the event OF my
nublishers conserving to issue two
books. one on himself and one OF
Moore. he would write preface Il
that dealing with his own work, ant
I put the question in way that show
cd him / wished him to contribute thu
preface without payment. At this NJ
burst into uncomfortable laughter, tell
ing me that for all my silence l hat
roallv admirable impudence. From
this point EDWARDS he appeared to tax
more interest in me- and, when dinner
was over. he showed me number o
monographs of himself that various
friends had taken. One of these rep
resented Mr.. Shaw with his arm rouhe
the waist of a female scarecrow, MI
ewes appealing to her with leerlns
look. And while he turned over INT
nbotoeraphs, he talked and talked ant
talked. His energy was inexhaustipi'
and terrifying.