Evening star., 1935-10-27

QOlS WIN MN, uCluQlng very
savage blond. OF course, we know he
is not you, so we throw him out.
He is very cheerful about it, at
that, Mr.. Searles,' the doorman says.
He says it does not strike him as q
very lively place, anyway. and that
he is having more fun where he is.
But the savage blond is inclined to
make much of the matter. In fact.
she tries to bite me. It is . very
strange world, Mr.. Searles.'"
Do doormen talk like that? Would
that they did!
But when, in the name of realism" I"
we are told that this is the common
speech of the common people. In
literal recording, it is plain that our
informers are just marching hay-foot
straw-foot down the dictionary
columns of critical conventionality,
seeking whittier the aiming of their
own noses may lead them.
1t is not the common people speak
ing at all. 1t is Mr.. Damon Runyon,
exhibiting a wickedly polished and
most uncommonly perfect style.
For those who disagree with this q
test is suggested. Try reading the
supposed argot in the mouths of his
characters with the quotation marks
removed. 1t is indistinguishable from
the rest of the story. Ring Lardner
did not write thus. His argot was
argot, recorded as on a phonograph
disk. His ball player did not talk like
his old rustic on the golden wedding
trip. And neither of them talked like
MIR. Lardner.
This brings up another point of
disagreement-that Mr.. Runyon Is a
great short-story writer, or, for that
matter, short-story writer at all.
If you take the view that a story has
plot and characters, then he Is not.
He himself Is his only character, and
his plots are the least of his interest.
They are often shamelessly borrowed,
as in the case Of Earthquake" in the
present volume, or they are embar-
rassingly shoddy, as in the case of the
beloved Little Miss Marker" (not In
this collection), a pure tear jerker If
there ever was one. o. He1ry's genius
was for plotS-too well-made plots, at
times.
AS for characters, in his whole gal
lery of gangsters, touts and card
sharps. which has been so joyfully ac-
claimed as realistically" painted,
there is not one who is more than a
name. They might as well be called
A, B and c. Saving the picturesque
ness of such titles as Philly the Weep
er, frankie Ferocious and Saul the
Soldier the stories would lose nothing
by it.
Yet no one in his senses would deny
that the present volume, and. for that
matter, all Of Mr.. Runyon's work, Is
work Of great individuality. But it Is
the authors individuality, triumphing
alike over the absence of plots and
characters, transmitted to the reader
by the mechanics of style that car
ries the very soul and essence Of the
genial cynicism and hypocrisy that
makes one distinct stratum in our
social structure. It may be said that
Damon Runyon writes out of the
corner of his mouth, but that, at the
same time, he keeps his eyebrows
very piously elevated. It may also be
said that he accomplishes this manner
Of expression by his mastery Of q
subtle style, and not by any other de-
vice.
And-further-it may be said that
it is for his style that people read him.
If any other learned sports writer had
attempted to perpetuate such down.
right clap-trap as Miss Marker" he
would have to do it under an assumed
name. And then nobody but the
Youths Companion would have pub
lished it.
1T CAN'T HAPPEN HERE. BY Sim
clair Lewis. Garden City: Double
day Doran.
Mr.. SINCLAIR LEWIS, who has the
A'A honor of being the only pub
licity man ever to have been awarded
the Nobel Prize for literature, here
turns his flair for writing brilliant ad
COpy W Oil CAdul1IldtlOU O1 Il1C 4uCoe
ton of whether America would sub
nit to a dictator of the Fascist model
He is not as funny as he can be, and
readers probably know that when Mr..
Lewis is not funny he is dull. II
1T Can't Happen Here" had been
written by a promising undergraduate,
it would be an arresting book be-
cause of the precocity it displayed.
But the Great Genius Of the American
Novel (and, since he has been called
that, one may as well mention IT.
ought to be better than precocious.
It Is unfair to his lesser countrymen
for him to fall short of Immortality
in any work-it Is unfair, for exam
pie, to Villa Gather. to James Branch
Cabell, to Theodore Dresser and to the
young man in the attic who is just
finishing chapter four. We beg him
for stones and he gives us bread. It
is not thus that grand literary tradi-
ton is nourished.
In brief, the plot of 1T Can't Hap
pen Here" deals with an imagined
usurpation of the Government of the
United States by q dictator, one
Berzelius Windrip, who is properly
elected President ON the Democratic
ticket in 1896. Berzelius bases his
power on an organization Of Minute
Men," q hoodlum group Of youths
placed in uniform, armed and given
unlimited authority, after the model
Of the Storm Troopers.
The young Minute Men arrest Con-
gress and lock 1t up in the District
Jail, very shortly after Berzelius comes
to power. The citizens OF Washing
ton 60 down In an indignant throng
to storm the bastille and get Congress
out. (Perhaps Mr.. Lewis Is funnier
than one had sllspected.) The Minute
Men charge US Ut would be you and
I and our neighbors, naturally, not
more than q few months away, either)
with machine cunning and trunch-
coming. We retreat. Our spirits are
broken. Congress remains In the
lookup.
The menacing Berzelius then puts
the Supreme Court under guard in Q
manner which amounts to arrest. He
redistricts the Nation, destroying the