Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-02-26
THIS AND THAT
BY CHARLES E. TRACEWELL.

Maybe the typical Spring poem" of
yesteryear will emulate skirts, and grow
longer, if not fuller. After ALL the
mere words in a Spring poem do not
matter; it is the spirit which counts.
If the poems want to come back, there
is no reason why they should not, so
all versifiers should feel perfectly free
to try their hand at it.
No doubt there are many authentic
aspects of Spring which have been
overlooked by all the tribes of poets
since Homer. The present age knows
the most honest outlook upon life and
love since the civilized world began.
There is no reason why this cannot be
put to good use in the writing of
poetry.
Too long has verse been standard
lied, not only in form, but particularly
in subject matter. What Is needed is
new poet who can approach subjects
with certain innocence peculiar to
the animals, who do what they do
without fear or shame.
to be made for human beings, espe-
cially in the handling of the written
word, but the same result might be
achieved, with inconceivable benefit to
literature. The old tongue cheek
attitude would go, and in its place
would arise-what already has arisen
in the prose of some authors decent
attitude of fairness toward life as it is
lived
Men and women mostly are hypocrites
with themselves, not with other people.
There are certain facts in life which
are interesting, certain situations which
are humorous, based on the primeval
emotions of the race. These nine
tenths of us blink, because we have
been brought up to do so, but the ques-
ton remains, Are We not wrong both
to ourselves and to this queer thing
called life of which We rather suspect
we make such an excellent and unique
part?
One may step into burlesque the
alter and see there a grand girl devoid
of modesty or shame, strutting her stuff
before the footlights. Vulgar? No, not
with that face. Here is Zola's Mana in
the flesh, utterly Indifferent to good
or evil, callous to the crude catcalls
from the galleries. And one would have
to be the first to cast a stone who
should declare that she was shame
less hussy only.
The tremendous sale recently in this
country of a booklet dealing with GER
tain we'll known sly tendencies of
human beings to laugh at the forbid
den almost proves the desire of the
average person to be honest, if only he
could, if only his own life would let
him. There's the rub We take a
fourth of life to learn certain things,
then two-fourths more to unlearn
them, and by the time we have got
honest with ourselves and the world
we are about ready to give up the one
and pass out of the other.
X x X X
Life in the Springtime, however,
ought not to hold us long at these
Speculations. Brains often are a handi-
cap, thinking sometimes a nuisance,
intelligence now and then undesirable.
Such days as that of which we write
come too seldom in Winter to be used
for philosophical thoughts, true or
otherwise, as the case may be. Ger
tainly the city did not so use them at
the time.
There was certain feeling in the
air, an "elan vital" as a French phi
losopher once called it, which sang in
fresh air on a staff of sunshine for all
those longing hearts unable to frame
such sweet songs for themselves.
Wind and sun, rain and shine, clouds
and trees, grass and animals, all Ma
lures children are her first poets,
makers of happiness, in so far as life
offers it to living things. They write
the best Spring poems, after all, because
they live them.