Evening star., 1938-03-27
By NC. r.


at hand and seems to be q
good number. This stirs the
L reviewer to remark that there
Is no periodical OF which she can
think which runs to such extremes OF
quality. When Harpers is good, 1t is
excellent. And when 1t is bad-oh.
then surely the evil genius OF all re-
viewers edits it. Its dullness in its
of numbers Is a work Of art; it is
utter perfection in platitudes. None
theless, 1t is paradoxically true that
the line which divides these polar ex-
tremes Of quality is itself narrower
than a hair; . good Harpers and .
bad one are, in all but their goodness
and badness, very much alike.
In both you will find the same
anxious editorial conscience, in both
the identical objectives in fiction and
articles. In other words, Harpers is
constantly faithful to its type. The
circumstance would seem to give vim
dication to the reviewers contention,
often stated here, that our magazine
COitOlS diC III 6CllSl al
with getting material which meets
type requirements than they are in
publishing stuff which stands up on
its individual merits.
Better, these editors seem to say,
better to use stories which are like
stories which We have already used
than to take the terrifying risk in
volved in being original. Better use
this poor tale, which after all is in
the type of that good tale which we
published three months ago. which in
turn was in the type with which our
readers are familiar, than take this
flne piece which is-oh, peril-dif-
ferent. One is forced to believe that
our editors do thi k in this fashion.
And from that one must conclude
that, while Harpers' editors undoubt-
edly prefer type stuff which is good
to type stuff which is bad, they are
not able to assemble enough of the
meritorious in a year to fill out IL
issues. but find themselves sometimes
forced to make up a number with ma
terial which, though safely typical, has
no quality under heaven to recommend
it. Lock-step. in other words, has be-
come the fashion among editors, as
elsewhere.
PUT about the April Harpers. Oh. but
certainly. Harpers for April is at
hand and seems to be worth getting
David Cushman Coyle leads off in it
with an article designed to show that
there may not be such big Federal
deficit after all. Cheering news! It
is all matter Of bookkeeping, says
Mr.. Coyle. The Government borrows
billion or so dollars and plants a
lot Of trees. Well the trees are an
investment Therefore the billion is
not all debt. Change the system of
bookkeeping accordingly and the def
cit will surely shrink. Will 1t affect
the taxes? Mr.. Coyle is silent on that
poignant point George Fielding
Eliot in another article brings the good
word that Italy is no such great shakes
as a military power after all. She
is running bluff, says he, and if the
European powers get into fight with
her, America should keep hands of,
for the powers can certainly handle
the matter without U.s. No one will
weep over that Rumania. says
Henry c. Wolfe elsewhere in the
magazine, is likely to become the scene
Of such civil war as now afflicts
Spain. This is because Fascism has
grown in that country to powerful
proportion And Wilson Woodside
writes of Germany's position on the
question Of colonies with extraordinary
lucidity. demonstrating clearly the
threat to peace which lies there . .
These articles on Europe are all dis
tinctly good While Louis Adamic
under the title "The Millvale Appari-
ton" contributes one Of the best ghost
stories which the reviewer has ever
read It is not fiction. either. There
was a ghost in the church, and some
body whom Mr.. Adamic knew got TO
be on quite friendly terms with it
and even made its portrait The
reviewer has never seen a ghost. She
would like to.
A VERY pleasant poem has come
to hand. being sent the reviewer
by Mr.. John Robert Quinn, Wash
ingtonian, who writes that he has al
ready contributed verses to number
Of magazines, including the Common
veal, the American Mercury, Poetry
and the Lyric. Mr.. Quinn's piece is
seasonal; therefore the reviewer feels
obliged to use it at once. For it is
called 'Forsythia." (And, by the
way. who was Forsythe, anyhow?)
Well, here the poem is:
These branches overrun
With unmolested ore
Although I've seen 1t done
Full twenty springs and more,
A mass of golden bells
Transforming every stick
Till reasoning rebels
And intellect grows thick,
These branches that are lit
Across the breath Of man,
Yellow and exquisite,
Unfolding like q fan ..
I could have sworn that none
Could do this wondrous thing
OF sQuandering the sun
To make brown bush sing.
A nice little piece of work? One
wonders why 1t is that spring poems
are comically supposed to be always
bad. For 1t seems to the reviewer that
If there is any poetry in q man ut all
sr,ari,,n n,ould hriaa o,,4 H. l>-k "a L.