CURRENT ADVOCATE LACKS WRITING OF DISTINCTION

In gathering material for the present number of the Advocate, the editors have been able to set a standard of very respectable literary achievement; but, with one or two exceptions, they have failed to lay their hands upon anything of real distinction. What definite faults there are in the majority of the compositions should be ascribed to the general literary attitude of the day rather than to any individual defects of the authors. The contents of this issue of the Advocate demonstrate once again that a circle of writers in a university is almost bound to be only a microcosm of the larger contemporary world of letters.

Faulty Imitation of Kipling

Among the most exasperating vices of contemporary authors is the tendency to carry suggestion, rather than direct statement, of a fact or situation to the point of obscurity, and to this vice several of the contributors to the Advocate have fallen victims. The substitution of suggestion for straightforword declaration may become very effective when employed with moderation by such skillful hands as those of Kipling, who is probably the chief sponsor of the device; but since all followers are likely to exaggerate the tricks of their masters, it is a dangerous instrument for indiscriminate use. In the "Translation from the Navajo", the vicissitudes through which the author has to pass in his search for the realization of his dream are narrated with a painful vagueness. It is all very well to claim that such a method enhances the desired mysticism or the exotic Indian atmosphere; but technical devices should not become obvious mannerisms, and the interpretation of some of the episodes almost baffles even the most careful reader. Mr. Weeks' store called "The Arrow-head" proceeds clearly and cleverly until the denouement is reached; then the mode of treatment is suddenly changed, and the final situation is suggested so dimly that the result is an anti-climax. The some difficulty appears in a less degree in "The Walloping Window Blind". In characterization, narrative skill, and vivacity of style, it is distinctly the best tale in this number of the Advocate; but at the very end Mr. LaFarge, evidently somewhat vitiated by the literary tendencies of the day, wrongly believes that he gains in impressiveness by obscurely hinting at the concluding incidents instead of recounting them lucidly. Curiously enough, although Mr. Morrison's "Loaves and Fishes" is the only story not marked by too great an emphasis upon this method of suggestion, the verse that he contributes, a "Sonnet", in addition to certain faults of meter and metaphorical language, lapses into the enigmatical. A little study, of course, reveals the meaning, and the trouble here seems to be not so much an exaggeration of "suggestiveness" as the fact that the writer has not sufficiently defined his thought in his own mind. The habit of implying rather than declaring plainly an idea has intruded even into the Pateresque editorial entitled "Many Seasons". The reviewer, as one who has suffered much from the obligation of reading authors who have reached a perilous stage in this habit, may be allowed to register here his mild protest, and to express the hope that writers at Harvard, if only for the sake of a change, may turn their attention to imitating the clarity of the Victorian age or even of the eighteenth century.

Too Much Stress on Atmosphere

Another epidemic literary disease, which has manifested itself most violently in "Main Street", is an inordinate stress upon atmosphere. One of the symptoms of the disease is a tendency to break out in countless adjectives. The Advocate betrays the presence of the epidemic, though happily in a less serious form than in the past; and by a strange coincidence, in this very number, the excellent review of Samuel Hopkins Adams' novel, "Success", contains a powerful denunciation of the adjectival style. In "The Arrow-Head", the descriptions of the apartment in New York and of the farm in the Middle West are typical examples of the straining after a vivid and detailed presentation of the milieu, quite in the manner of "Main Street". The story in the "Translation from the Navajo", despite the author's agreeable lightness of touch, and gift for fanciful invention, is well-high lost in the atmosphere. The sentiment of the verses headed "Amnesia" is poetic and apparently sincere, the technical frame-work is successful; but here the impression is impaired by a too highly colored wordiness. The setting is best managed in "The Walloping Window Blind", with admirable restraint and with something of Conrad's feeling for the terror of remote seas. One of the least objectionable modes of getting atmosphere would be the resort to dialect, if it were not now so much over-worked. The trick justifies itself, however, in the four pieces of fiction included in this issue because of the dexterity with which it is used. Mr. Behn produces the virtual effect of dialect, in his "Translation from the Navajo", by a well arranged introduction of Indian words and by an imitation, in the direct discourse, of Indian simplicity of speech. But why does Mr. Morrison, in "Leaves and Fishes", cause his interlocutor suddenly to perform the impossible feat of abandoning his natural dialect when quoting the Baptist minister?

Mr. Rogers' poem called a "Ballad of Errant Vespers" is not only pleasantly free from the fads of current writing, but it seems to the reviewer to possess genuine literary quality in a higher degree than anything else that these pages have to offer. The conception is original and imaginative, the movement direct and easy; rhythm, language, and sound are adroitly suited to the ideas. Above all, the verses are distinguished by that rare and precious characteristic, spontaneity.