Evening star., 1925-04-04
THIS AND THAT
BY CHARLES E. TRACEWELL.

/ have just read. with mingled Joy
and sorrow, Franklin p. Adams 80
Much Velvet" published late last year
by Doubleday. Page & Co.
There is Joy for such cleverness, such
knowledge. such humanity; sorrow for
SO great talent gone awry.
The book was loaned me by a friend
who expected me to be as joyously en-
thusiastic as he Is. When l tell you
that this young mans hobbies are air
planes, Chopin. Ted Lewis and $40
pipes, you will understand the kind of
a man I have to deal with.
He will be terribly disappointed when
he learns that !. too, am not willing to
read $50 Much Velvet" at least once a
week, which is the ambitious plan he
has undertaken. But l am afraid of
airplanes, have no particular penchant
for that king of jazz, Ted Lewis. and
do not smoke. 1 do like Chopin.
1t seems to me that the inimitable F.
L. A has, in sense, wasted his talent
in confning himself to poetry of this
type, because in the 144 pages of this
book is enough genins to write ever
lasting things.
This is no new idea about F. p A, of
course. The defense has always been
and it Is a good one-that it is just for
this sort of thing that Adams was cre-
ated, and turned loose ais a personality
in New York journalism.
His poetry, they say. is as much as
his readers can stand. If he turned
serious, and wrote Immortal Verse, his
friends declare, his finicky readers
would not read him.
Granted. He is as he is; he writes
as he writes. Only on what he does
must We judge him. On that work, he
Is great in cleverness. The trouble is,
he is too clever for his own good.
If you would know what I mean by
being too clever, take r. +. AS poem,
"H," in the present volume, especially
that portion, IF Mr.. II. w. Longfellow
had written Miss Millay's verses:
Ny candle burns at both ends,
It will not last the night;
But, alb, my foes, and, oh, my friends,
1t gives a lovely light.
Here is Adams version, a la Long
fellow:
Between the dark and the daylight,
My bayberry candle burns:
1t shines from out my window,
For the traveller who returns.
1t shines with holy radiance,
And sacred light II sends;
1t flames with a pure candescence,
And II burns at both its ends.
Not with a blaze consuming;
Not with a blistering flame;
Not with a fragrant passion,
Or heat dare not name.
But to blaze the path of friendship,
Its fame my candle lends:
For its light IS the light eternal,
That burns at both its ends.
The better you know your Longfehow,
the more you will relish that take
off," 1t is Longfellow, the perhaps too
high-minded Longfellow, strained
through F. p. A. for the edification Of
those who shy at the elder poet.
But 1t is more than that. 1t is clever
with an unholy cleverness. 1t is SO
good it hurts, II you get what I mean.
1t is so darn good that the man who
wrote 1t ought-if you listen to me
turn his hand to stun in his own right.
This is his own right?
Well, maybe. But first we have to
consider the nature of cleverness.
Cleverness is that quality in writ
Ing which hits the unsuspicious read
er between the eyes at the finish. o.
Henry was clever.
F. p A. is indubitably clever. Take
the ending of THE Conservative
Reader:
like to read the rhymes unfreed!
crave 'em, I demand 'em.
TIL death I'll fight for those 1 write
So / can understand 'em.