Evening star., 1936-12-05
Bp Mary-Carfer Roberts.

Op VI I" sOf AAOO'" w.
LIFE OF GEORGE MOORE. BY
Joseph Hone. New York: The
Macmillan Co.
TIME biography of George Moore
which makes its appearance
here, Is the "ofiicial" one. It's
Il author Is it's author by virtue
Of having been asked by MOOre'S
'1iterary executor" to become that 1t
Is very complete, very painstaking and
502 pages long. 1t contains q chapter
of critical examination by Desmond
Shawe-Taylor; this follows another
chapter given over to recording the
impressions Of the late novelist, which
have fingered on through the years
since his death in the memory Of his
former housekeeper. Moore the
Artist-Moore the Man. Did he
achieve stylistic perfection? Did he
prefer bass or sole? All questions are
answered here.
1t would not be fair to make this
particular biography of a writing
man-so excellently done, so carefully
worked out-a text for a sermon on
the general irrelevance of biographies
of writing men, for that would be to
single it out as particularly irrelevant
in itself. Be 1t said then that it is
not. 1t is in very good tradition.
But, having read through its 5O2
pages, having duly learned that Moore
was quarrelsome, that he stumbled on
the hearth rug at Ebury street and
broke his wrist, that he went to
Palestine to prepare himself to write
1.-THE Brook Kerith," that he liked
cats, changed his religion, Dragged
about his affairs with women, lived
In Paris, Dublin, London, studied
painting, wrote books-after having,
indeed. practically lived with George
Moore a day. day existence through
out his life-what is there TO it? The
question is put seriously. II any writer
has earned the tribute implied by all
this labor in minutiae, will his books
not secure it to him? And If he has
not, what does his biography represent
except the researches of another man?
In the case of Moore, 1t is within
fairness to observe that, in the present
generation at least, he is more known
than read. His legend is part Of every
college boys equipment, but savants
and critics largely make up his public.
He was always theoretical writer,
writing to formula-firSt to the
formula of natural lism second to that
Of stylistic perfection for its own sake.
Both are extreme and artificial at
titudes. Your naturalist always finds
his naturalism more interesting than
literature, and your single-minded
stylist finds literature more interesting
than life. But squirrel turning in its
cage is a potential source of power,
and Moore did make effects. In some
Of his work he made great effects.
What the effect of the effects is to be,
however. is still hanging in the
balance.
As to the phenomenon Of this mi
mute, long -laboring biographical writ
ing, when its subject is an author Is
1t not simply writing more and more
about less and less? A writer's real
personality has no legitimate con-
nections swith his work. To take an
illustrious example or two, the life of
Homer has never been written in
great detail, while as to the impress
sions formed about Shakespeare by his
housekeeper the world Is still unen-
hghtened. There are even those who
think that another man wrote the
1ary p,.t
Homer, too, is esteemed. When, as
with Moore, the writer In question is
one whose personality has already
been greatly exploited, there is q posi-
tive chance that further exposition of
. personal nature may actually stand
between his readers and just valua-
ton OF his work. That, of course,
would be simply terrible.
Nothing suggests itself to remedy
si1e fashion, however, beyond this,
which, though opening up interesting
vistas, somehow seems unlikely to be
put into effect: Let there be passed a
law that all books shall be published
anonymously; let it be a felony at
Least for writer to make his author
ship known; let there be no adyer-
tising OF books beyond their titles; let
book jackets be abolished (oh, para
dise); let all works be published with
identical covers, only with good, plain
type. And then let posterity do the
judging, for which 1t Is now, quite un-
justly, famous. Would it not be worth
trying, for 200 hundred years, at
least? Then let everything be re-
Vealed. The check-up would be one
OF the most Illuminating things ever
experienced in the cultured world.
But If . reader likes the personal
cbass or sole) approach to the artist,
why here it is in this Life" Here,
indeed, in very good example of it,
dignified, documented, demure. The
chapter by Mr.. Desmond Shawe-Tay-
or Is even first-rate literary criti-
PAUL GAUGUIN'S INTIMATE
JOURNALS. Translated by Van
Wyck Brooks. Preface by Emil
Gauguin. Fffty-flve illustrations.
New York: Crown Publishers.
SHOULD like to be a pig; man
alone can be ridiculous" One
hnds this remark on the second page
OF the present Journals" by Paul
Gauguin, and it gives accurately the
flavor Of the mind that is revealed
IN the rest of the work. Strong.
pungent contempt is the constant
quality of that mind, and liberty of
expression is its medium Of utterance,
liberty Of that rare quality which in
dicates the coming OF the mental
wheel full circle in its passage from
the wisdom of innocence to the wis
dom Of full knowledge. To readers
who can receive it in corresponding
fashion, 1t offers savory satisfaction.
To the less hardy it will probably
bring considerable annoyance.
OF course, Paul Gauguin Is dead.
It Is generally possible for the public
TO accept tolerantly from q dead