Evening star., 1938-06-12
NOVELISTS BREATHE PESSIMISM
Fiction Makes Brave Contribution Current Output Despite
Large Stream of Other Types of Literature-Varyng
Quality in Best Short Stories of Year
By Mary.Carfer Roberts.

neglect1ng that form OF nUeraIy
i art called the novel, what with
the weekly autobiography Of some
important journalist to get of or the
weekly political credo Of some eminent
Serious Thinker, and Spain having a
civil war wherein the enlisted men
are all creative artists taking notes
between gas attacks and China over
there needing interpreting to the Oc-
cident and Japan's side Of it not to
be neglected either, for the Japanese
people have not wanted this war, but
only the war lords, and Hitler, too,
and Mussolini. So this week the re-
viewer decided to do little book re-
viewing. After all, strange as it may
seem and believe it or not and all that,
novels are still getting written. So
what, said the reviewer to herself, so
what Is there against reviewing some
of them? The book stores inform her
that non-f1ction is outselling fiction by
a large measure Even so, novels do
get written-hardy fellows, these, on
whom the mantle Of Dostoiviesky has
fallen with such crushing weight!
How much easier to dash of a couple
of political credos! And how much
more profitable, too.
All, the reviewer is proud Of the
doughty nove-Sts, who keep blotting
away at their u,<sxr- little tales of real
life as it is lived and the futility Of
1t all and man is mortal but imbued
with divine spark, and don't let any
body tell you otherwise. They seem
to prove that there is still group OF
writer's who would rather write than
talk about themselves as writer's, and
the reviewer had just about come to
the conclusion that the state of mir d
wasout with the candle and the candle
snuffers.
Well-a-day and how times do
change, to be sure. Back in the 20s
everybody was writing a novel. You
did not have q friend who was not
ready and willing to read to you the
big scene from chapter six. You never
met a stranger but you began to cal
culate, from the look of him. whether
he would be doing an epic o.. the soil
or the rise Of the Immigrant or the
struggle of the artist to retain his soul
In a world of commerciahsm. 1t saved
a lot of conversation, too. that habit
Of novel writing, for nobody ever had
to listen to anybody else; they all just
recited passages or outlined plots, and
the creative spirit was what you might
call rife, and each one, in his some
what untidy ivory tower, Was happy
and at peace But now nc n-fiction is
the best seller, so the salesmen say,
and there is nothing to any work Of
fiction much except the question, rs
it as long as Gone With the Wind'?"
Booksellers might install scales and
sell these works by the pound. The
Idea is freely submitted. Yes, quite,
freely. Aristophanes thought of it, and
so the reviewer claims no royalties.
As far as she is aware, it has not yet
been patented.
WELL, the reviewer is pleased to be
w able to report that the novels
which she has read in the past week
are all firmly pessimstic. Such a
state of determined gloom seems to
argue that the boys and girls are still
taking their art seriously and hold
ing out grimly against any insidious
temptation to be commercialized.
Bless their little hearts! How right
they are, too! For there is no such
thing as a good cheerful novel. A
novel must needs be sadder than des-
peration or broadly comic If it is to
be even family respectable. (The
great ones, Of course, are both.) Nice
good little books are just nice good
little books. You can only say of
them what you say of nice good little
people. After which you can, of
course, always look out Of the window.
The first on the reviewers list is
a Scandinavian work and good one
in the main. 1t Is "Fatherland, Fare
we'll" by Costa LARSON and published
by Harcourt Brace g. Co. 1t is the
story Of period of hard times which
came about in Sweden shortly before
the war and resulted in the emigra-
ton Of many workmen to America.
1t is told in the story Of q young
machinist who ambitiously works to-
ward becoming an engineer. He lives |
In humble tenement, surrounded by
poor men and their families. While |
he labors and studies calamities be- |
fall one neighbor after another, and |
man after man turns his face from |
the fatherland toward the imagined
country Of plenty across the sea. That
Is essentially the work.
There is little connected story in
1t; the hero, to be sure, has a love
affair which brings him to compromise
with his ambition and marry, but
there is less reality in the romance
than In any other part of the book.
1t Is just collection of stories about
humble people in trying time, told
with that simple closeness to essen
tials. that quiet honesty which seems
to be the native gift of the better
Scandinavian novelists.
A work on such q theme might |
easily fall into the category of the
'proletarian novel; II it were done
by propagandist or literary tyro,
one whose lack OF writing talent COM
PEELED him to substitute synthetic |
wrath against specific causes for a
genuine awareness of the constant |
grief of being human. But Costa |
Larson Is not such a one. His book |
deals with the exploitation of the
poor by the rich, to beNs sure, and one
Of his most admirable characters Is
Socialist organizer, but nowhere
does he let his material slip from the
focus Of humanity to that of panaceas
and isrns. Life was like this for these
people, he seems to say. and since
1t is Of life that he writes, he is not
amazed to find that some men and
women suffered injustice. In other
words, he has written a mature book.
1t can be recommended.
NEXT on the list Is my Son, NV
Son!" by Howard Spring, critic
Of the London Evening Standard, and
published by the Viking Press. This
book is presently appearing on num-
Der of lists Of fiction best sellers.