Evening star., 1941-09-28
THIS WEEK MAGAZINE

feather boa reaches the South of
France, he'll be just about right, said
Agnew. Besides, l happen to know
that Max Gregory is on the verge of
being discovered by at least two of our
eminent critics. not to speak of an
article which I'm writing on his work
myself"
He did not mention the fact that the
two eminent critics had been carefully
led up to the discovery" by his own
hints and suggestions about the new
genius" Nor did he mention another
fact. known only to himself - that
Max Gregory, that promising new
genius, was really the eminent. but
now out-of-fashion author. Paul
Agnew.
HE deception had begun some time
before, and innocently enough, as
game played with the public. In an
earlier day Paul Agnew had been
regarded as one of the most outstand-
ing novelists and poets in England.
Nobody who had not read him could
carry on an intelligent dinner-table
conversation. He was, in short. the
fashion.
But no fashion ever lasts long. The
new generation had begun to refer to
him as lone of. the Edwardians, and
to speak respectfully of the books he
had written ten years ago. He had
been dated and labeled, tied irrevoca-
bly, to his past. This situation was all
the more irritating to him since,
physically and mentally. he was con-
siderably filter than most of the fam
ing youth of the day.
Once or twice, in recent years. it had
occurred to him that it was not too
late for him to make an entirely new
start under another name, in some
other part of the world - California,
perhaps. He could easily invent some
new trick of style which would place
him among the up-to-date, original
writers - or even ahead of them. For
example. he might begin his chapters
with scraps of verse in which the
rhymes occurred at the beginning in
stead of at the end of the lines.
And so he had invented MAX
Gregory"
At first it was simply to amuse him
self, but to his delight. he found that
in six months his conversational hints
and his many reviews of Max Gregory's
first book had established this fc-
titious person as the coming man."
Gregory, it was understood, lived
abroad. 1t was not certain whether he
lived in Italy or California or both;
but his hatred of personal publicity
was so we'll advertised that he enjoyed
all the advantages of the limelight
without any of its disadvantages.
Paul Agnew's photograph - always
the same picture with the neat mus
tache and pointed beard - had stereo-
typed him. No picture of Max Gregory
ever appeared. His readers we're thus
enabled to use their imaginations to
his advantage.
1t became the fashion to praise
whatever he wrote, and it was gener-
ally admitted that Max Gregory was
a dazzling, youthful genius of incal-
culable promise and immense achieve
ment. The brilliant scraps of modern
verse with which he prefaced the
chapters of his books were sometimes
almost unintelligible to readers of an
older fashion; but as Agnew pointed
out, the critics must not run the risk
of discouraging a Wagner because
they themselves had been brought up
on Rossini!
1T WAS not until he was fully assured
of the future of Max Gregory that
Paul Agnew made his next move.
He announced that he was going to
make visit to the seaside in August.
He took rooms in quiet farmhouse
on the coast of Cornwall where he had
often before retired to write. One day
he went for a Iopo walk a kpansarL