Evening star., 1936-08-08

IN THE CURRENT MAGAZINES
Fifteen Stories From Fcon Parade Disclose Startling Lack of
Vitality Despite Field of Selection Inclusive of Thirty
Six Magazines in Seven Countries.

esting to anybody. His narrative Is as
stimulating as a textbook, and consid-
erably more obvious. In spite OF bull
lets cracking around his thinly COW
cred head, Mr.. Fleming's Englishman
Is no more than a shadow, and
neither is his girl, nor his fat villain.
What, then, Is the excuse for this
tale? Why, the ghost Of long-dead
artist named o. Henry, who made
the world aware Of surprise endings
to the lamentable extent that writer's
ever since have optimistically believed
that such an ending was all any story
needed. Give it such a conclusion,
drag a surprise in and deposit 1t in
the final paragraph with dull bump
and what went before is extenuated,
be it ever so mournful tripe. o.
Henry, to be sure, did not write thus.
But he was an artist. Art Is long.
Tricks are not.
TWO others of the fifteen have this
technique. In both cases the
reader will scent the surprise mile
away
And this is only one type. Take
another. much less obvious, as exem-
plified in Ernest Pooles Field of
White Poppies," from Esquire. This
is the type which seems to escape from
type, the story which has no conven-
tionality of plot, no trick, no object
save, as the saying goes, to create an
atmosphere 1t Is actually Just as
typical as the banal trick ending, of
course, but it seems less so because
one encounters 1t less often. 1t is
harder TO do; hence fewer writers try
it. 1t Is also harder to understand
and consequently fewer editors per
NIT themselves to gamble on it. 1t
raises, one fancies, the hateful old
editorial question, ITS pretty, but IS
it art?" How Is poor fellow to
know? Better play safe. Much better.
So one comes upon few atmosphere
tales, and they are Of the inferior
variety, since the process of stampirg
work with type always tends to e.e-
vate the bad at the expense Of tie
good. Mr.. Pooles effort fails of good
ness through Indifferent workman
ship. One feels that the story is there,
but it does not do what this kind o.
story should do-and that is bring one
an awareness of other worldly value.
Of life outside life, Of gold beyond
sunshine and silver beyond the moon
Is it, one wonders, the best story Of
atmosphere to be found this month
in So periodicals from seven coun-
tries? The editor Of Fiction PARADE
seems to think so.
We have also in this magazine an
example of the tough story, two exam
pies of the incoherent story. two OF
the adolescent psychology variety. on
Of the earth woman type and on
on heavy-handed justice. No inspl-
ration is reported.
Of those remaining, one can COM
meht most favorably on a plain mar
rative from real life called Steel.
1t is taken from the New Yorker and
the author is Morris Markey. It tells
the experiences of structural steel
worker and his family, before, during
and since the depression. 1t has meat
in it. The mind takes hold of it with
belief and not mere patience. But
observe-this story purports to be told
from life. 1t is not properly within
the barren limits of the fiction field.
NEXT in merit is ''The Man With
Horns" from the Mercury. The
author is Thomas Rourke. 1t comes
near to having significance; it is a
character study. Another which lifts
the readers mind, to certain degree,
out of its mood OF resignation to bore
dom, is Who's Here, Beside Foul
Weather." from Blackwood's. Its au-
thor if Francis Milton. 1t is a story
of rescue at sea, and while 1t reyels
in sea terminology, to the necessary
bewilderment of readers not nautically
educated, it still is not wholly pre-
dictable in its human elements. Yet
1t, too, Is a type.
So the summing up is that out of
The pick of SO magazines from seven
countries, for one month, we find
three works that can be read without
rousing in the mind echoes Of thou
sand predecessors. Three works which
can stand alone-and one Of those
(the best) non-fiction. How do you
know that you can't write? Clip the
coupon today. by all means. Next
year 10 Doakes and his like may put
you in an anthology. What possibly
could be nicer?