Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-01-16

A year ago in this column We re-
viewed Matthew Josephson's "zola and
His Time" expressing the belief that 1t
was destined to live.
It Is with satisfaction that we report
its continued life in the bookstores.
Amid the mass of biographies which
flows from the presses of America a
book is doing very we'll to survive a
twelvemonth.
This one, we are confident. will live
for many years. One critic has placed
it among the seven best biographies"
published during the past two.
"zola and His Time" Is good. as we
see it, because 1t keeps the golden mean
between the old and new styles IN
biography.
While making full use Of the psy-
Geological method the author has
steered clear of the entanglements Of
completes" and the other jargon OF
the schools: he has given fun interest
to the life of his subject without bowling
the knee to seekers after thrills.
Tie result is not only book about
lola which portrays the man, but a
book which is a book. Now there are
plenty of biographies which give us men
but which somehow strike reader as
cheap and sensational. He is convinced
that the writer has taken an unfair adj
vantage of him.
There is enough of the devil in every
man land maybe in every woman, we
are not sure about that to make him
read with interest the ca-ryings-on Of
famous men and women OF. the past.
Yet as he Is reading he has sense
Of peeking through keyhole; he Is
ashamed Of himself for what the author
is making him see and hear. He knows
that great men are great, in part, be-
cause of their possession of vital force
and that this same power Is not always
for dress parade.
After reading this type of biography
a reader of ordinary sensibilities has
an uneasy feeling, which he seldom ana
lyzes, but which would make him posi-
tive, II he did, that there is great deal
more to writing biography than filling
out book Of 400 pages.
X II Il
A really good piece of biographical
writing, such as "zola and His Time,
gives the reader "a man" In a sensible,
decent way. We submit that book, to
be real book, must be both sensible
and decent. A book Is, above all, a
product of intelligence. And intelli-
gence of the sort Of which mankind
Is proud is thoroughly decent. This
is why 1t would seem that so many
readers have a sense of futility after
reading some of the much-praised
modern biographies"
Another point at which specimens of
the new school, as 1t is proudly called,
fall down with a mighty thump, lies
in the inability of their authors to
concentrate on the essential things In
the life of their subjects.
We have read biographies OF both
Alexandra Dumas and Honore BalZac,
both prolific writers, In which their
novels have been given second or third
place rather than the major positions
the very bulk of their work deserves.
We submit that the chief thing about
Dumas was his romances; the main
thing which BalZac left to us was his
Human Comedy"
To play up" the amours of these
two men, page after page, as If these
were the real and only life of their
subjects worth considering, is to miss
the bull's-eye of reader interest. One
life" of Dumas scarcely mentioned
one of his stories. We claim that
but would want to know about his
mighty romances whose sweep still
covers the world of readers. Anec-
dotes of Dumas in his hours of ease
are we'll enough, but far more inter-
esting must be the story Of the real
work Of his life. And no amount of
collaboration can explain away the
herculean labors Of those scores-nay
| hundreds-of books. 1t was mass pro-
! duction" long before Edgar Wallace
had been born.