Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-04-08
THIS AND THAT
BY CHARLES Z. TRACEWELL.

because they 90 perfectly mirror life Is
| 1t Is lived by the majority Of human
beings. The exciting moments are few
and far between, and perhaps owe q
great deal Of their charm to the un-
eventful hours which went before and
will surely come after. Only In the
speech of ShakeSpeare's Jester is life
Most human beings know an infinite
number of stages, each merging into
the next, not quite letting 60 Of the
last, not altogether sure Of the one into
which It is diSsolving. Longfellow was
| nearer the truth when he spoke of the
place where brook and river meet"
Jones almost gasped when he thought
Of ShakeSpeare's plays.
Why he hadn't read a one Of them
since he got out Of school. That was
long time ago, he told himself, In
reminiscent mood. Shakespeare is Q
good old egg, after ALL he went on.
Everybody ought to read his plays, but
| few do except when they plan going
| to the theater to see one Of them done"
by, one Of the surviving old-School
| actors.
There are purple spots" in Shake
speare, however, and plenty of them, but
- UOOk Va oCACCJkUAIS WILL 1LOJ 90.
selections would do the trick our
might be cut to bits for the edif1cation
Of the hurried. One might get Dumas
Three Musketeers" in mouthfuls. Such
selections have q place, but they BY
no means take that Of the genuine
works.
One might as well be reading Shake
Speare, Jones told himself, as discover
ing for ones self that the new novel
by much heralded French writer Is
dull and confused In structure and
character drawing. It had cost him
. neat 90 to flnd that much out. "Colos-
SAL" the critics had declared Surely
they used words with a free hand. If
there was anything large about the
novel 1t was not apparent. Compared
with the masterpieces of lola it was
mot there" as the slang phrase has it.
Jones bethought himself of his
Dickens, too. Those old warehouses had
been standing unread on his shelves
for full 20 years. Twenty years after
he would begin to take them down.
one by one, and go through those in
imitable adventures again. He felt
sorry for those who, overtaken by the
ful tide Of modern sophiStication,
could not permit themselves the luxury
OF enjoying Dickens. Surely there was
something large and brave about the
man, something ZeSty, hearty and
crammed with good humor, that made
him well worth reading by any one.
He recalled Gilbert Chesterton's
magnificent book of Dickens criticisms,
composed Of the individual introduce
| tons which he wrote for the Everyman
edition of the novels. He believed he
would read those introductionS over
| again, as q whole, before he launched
| forth on the uproartouS sea Of Dickens.
He bethought himself Of a book which
| he had purchased some months ago,
but had never read, This Side
Idolatry" It dealt with Dickens life
in . manner uninterrupted by the
Official" life of Forster. Jones ALWAYS
had thought that there must have been
another side to Dickens. The last
portraits OF the man showed a worried,
naughty countenance, much at variance
with the jolly tone Of "Pickw1ck
| Papers" The Dickens of the last
| portraits could never have written
| Pickwick, and If he had, would never
Jones looked at his home bookcases
with new interest, now that he had
decided to 60 on q budget and cut
down on his day-by-day expenses. He
felt that he had discovered something.
Here was plenty of good reading, at
hand, and begging to be read. He must
not disappoint the great authors. These
books, appreciated by him theoretically,
would be paid the grand compliment
of being read. Every book likes to be
read. He would let the book stores take
care of themselves for q while. They
would have to get along without him
| Occasionally he would drop 10 for a
new one, but mostly he would stay at
home and get acquainted with his
| own books.