The Daily Missoulian. [volume] (Missoula, Mont.) 1904-1961, 1917-05-06
Mary MacL Lane Again Gives
Glimpse Into Her Own Life
Outstanding Trait Of This Queer Girl From Butte Is Still
r'a"knesS-La1est boos Shows Different Point Of
View From That in Her First Work


| takes me farthest as a person. I write
myself when l write the thoughts
smoulderlng in me, whether they be Of
Death. OF roses. of Christs mother Of
lO-penny nails"
Butte Too Small for Her.
The sensation that followed the pub
ication of THE Story of Mary Mac
Lane might well have turned a strong
err head than is supposed 10 belong to
girl of 10. Butte, Montana, from whence
the book went to the publishers, soon
found it's smelter dust and desert sand
shaken from the feet of it's famous
daughter who had listened to the siren
voices of New York. There she was a
ninc-day wonder, or maybe little
more, for good measure. Then New
York forgot her. So did you. Maybe
you have wondered or maybe you are
wondering now what Of that Mary
MacLane all these Is years. Let her an
swer your query from the pages of
her second book. wherein she describes
the writing of the first:
1t was a poetic book and had insight
and visions and a riot of color with
youth as it's keynote. And il was hu.
man and literally full of the devil. The
far and wide public in England and
America read it. and the newspapers
made a loud noise about it, and the
lonely girl who wrote it found herself
oddly notorious. 1t brought money
which made her free Of Butte and it
brought human things into her life
which changed her life forever.
THE world forgetting, by the world
forgot" Mary MacLane tasted the
flesh pots and found them good. There
were years of this life:
"Thcre is a girl Of six and twenty
in Boston and in New York who had
half forgot her long familiar ego for
several years. She lived and moved in
triViality and falseness. From having
had too few companions she had too
many who did her no good and no
harm, but helped her waste passing
days and dissipate her moods and
mental tissues. She had grown world
~ in taste. weak in manner of thought.
fragile in body from mad irregularity
of food and sleep, and in every attri-
butte uncertain of herself. Her soul
lay sleeping: heart because it felt too
keenly worked overtime; nothing en-
gagged her mind. ="
And SO after eight years Of this she
came to herself and arose and went
back to this Butte Mont" to give it
her own phrasing, back to an illness
that took her close to death and long,
long struggle for health. To know that
this struggle has not been altogether
successful one has only to compare the
Mary MacLane of Is years ago and her
vibrant savage joy in her good young
womans body with the weary Mary
MacLane Of the present who drags her.
self now out to the sand wastes where
once she roamed defiant of wind and
weather.
Her Devil Worship Gone.
Somewhere between that first book
and the now, Mary MacLane has found
a god At 10 Mary MacLane's god was
the devil. She courted him. she gave
him her heart, she sat at the window in
the dusk and called to him and he came
and held converse with her. And In
her early thirties she sits at the same
window in the same dusk and implores
God to make himself manifest to her.
Twixt that devil and this God the diff
ference Is more Of names than of at
tributes. but it seems to be appropriate
that the two best bits OF writing in
these books separated by half a genera
ton are addressed to these two deities.
Take her first encounter with the
Prince OF Darkness who, she would
have us believe. was the Prince Charm
ing Of her Imagination.
The devil leaned back in the frail
willow chair and looked at me.
"And now that l am here, Mary
MacIane," he said, what would you?'
Il want you to marry me-" replied
at once. And l want it more than
ever anything was wanted since tho
world began"
$50? am flattered." said the devil
But you must know it is not
my custom to marry women"
II am sure 1t Is not" ! agreed. land
do not ask to be particularly favored.
Anything that you may give me. how
ever little, will constitute a marriage
for me-"
And would marriage itself be SO
small a thing" asked the devil.
Marriage" I said. "would be great.
oh, a wonderful thing, and the most
OCoulilul VI dl1. j WANT what II kOOu.
according to my lights. and because
am genius my lights are many and
far reaching"
What do your lights tell you?" the
man devil inquired.
They tell me this: that nothing in
the world matters unless love is with
1t, and II love is with it and it seems
to be virtuous. a barren and infamous
| thing, still. because of the love. it par
takes Of the very highest"
You are beautifully frank little
feminine creature" he said. prank
| ness is in these days Il lost art
Eyes, l am beautifully frank" l re-
Piled out of the countless millions of
the DEVILS anointed l am one to ac-
knowledge myself
But withal you are not true." said
the man devil.
Il am a liar" l answered.
you are a liar. surely" he said.
but you stay with your lies. To stay
with anything Is truth"
Don't you know. you little thing
said the man-devil. softly compassion
| ate. your life will be very hard for you
| always-harder when you are happy
| than when you go in nothin gness?"
II know-I know. Nevertheless
want to be happy" I sobbed. r felt a
rush Of an old. thick, heavy anguish
l ut ia 6av altar Aav Ia uyaak of ov