THE NOVEL AGAINST THE FIELD.

Dominion, Volume 5, Issue 1419, 20 April 1912, Page 9

THE NOVEL AGAINST THE FIELD.

A fow weeks ago, the novel threw its lint into the ring. The throwing was actually done by its persona! representative, Mr. 11. G. Wells, but it could not have hoped to put forward more sweeping claims for itself than its self-chosen champion made for it. What tlio novel could not do, according to this presentation, wan hardly worth doing; and tlio decay of poetry and the drama, not to speak of sucli comparatively neglected forms of literature as the essay, seemed imminent. All that ono had to do in older to. see the complete capture of tlie most imposing card catalogues Ijj- this single literary battalion was to accept half of what it claimed for itself in the mouth of Mr. Wells. But this claim did not long go unchallenged. One bold critic started to kick the hat around bv suggesting that Thomas Hardy left novoiwriting tor the coic because tho former

did not allow tho room for great ideas that ho craved. Shortly afterward, William Watson added to (ho attack bv depreciating tho novel in favour of poetrv. Admitting that (ho novelist is better paid in both money and fame, ho challenged tho justice of this arrangement, am predicted that in twenty years there wilt be a largo increase in tlie number ot readers of verse, mid a corresponding thinning of the ranks of tho devotees of liction.

And now comes John Galsworthv to break a lanco for tho novel. Our latest English visitor strikes :i note of unreality at the beginning by declaring that no does not liko interviews, and deepens it by disclaiming anv intention of giving impressions of America, or even having any. He professes to be willing to talk only about literature and the drama —does he mean to implv a subtle distinction here?—and proceeds to do it. This attitude ih in itself so strange as to tend to prejudice one against what he savs. Why a literary man should insist upon discussing literature instead of politics ami economies is inexplicable. Perhaps Mr. Galsworthy thought to pique curiosity by so original an announcement. His America u friends should 6pare no pams in the effort to make him see that this is no way for a. man to act who is dependent upon the public for his' success. Ho has given his competitors a tremendous advantage within twenty-four hours of his landing. If he really has no impressions about us, despite the fact that this is his second visit hero, that is the best reason in (ho world for not withholding them any longer. Even if he is saving them for a book, he will -lose nothing bv tolling them now. By the time the book can bo brought out, wo shall have been deluged with such a downpour of impressions from later and less reticent visitors that his .will seem perfectly new and unheard of.

Let us, however,.look at what he savs about the novel. As a writer of both stories and plays, both literature and tho drama, as ho phrases it. and of poetry as well, his opinion ought to be fairly "impartial with respect to these forms. Whether impartial or not, it is certainly decided. Without going the length to which Mr. Wells went, he heads unwaveringly in the same direction. The drama may have the greater immediate effect, ho admits, but the final victory is with the novel. His play, "Justice," which has been accorded tho honour of having caused important changes in the English prison system, would not have been so effective, he suggests, if Winston Churchill had not alreadjy been inclined to make them, and a, novel along tho same lines would probably, have had the same effect "without the aid of some one else's ideas." That is, tho novel would have succeeded where the play might have failed. Obviously this is an interesting speculation, but it can hardly bo called argument. Mr. Galsworthy's instinct here may bo true, but no one can tell. As for any comparison between tho navel and poetry, this writer is apparently so far from sharing Mr. Watson's feeling as to forget the.very existence of verse. When one tries to discover specifications for Mr. Galsworthy's preference of the novel to tho play, one finds that an important group of them relates, not to any inherent superiority of the ono to the other, but simply to Mr. Galsworthy's personal tastes as a writer. A novel, ho says, you may be sure will bo read as it was written, but a play may or may not be produced as it was constructed. He himself has "never yet written a play to suit any particular actor-manager," anil ho does not think that ho ever will. And lie makes a damaging admission, from the standpoint of tho novel, when he remarks: "In fact, play-writing is secondary with mo, and something of a recreation from my other work." In a word, it is not altogether John Galsworthy the critic, but also John Galsworthy the writer, who is passing judgment upon tho relative merits of novel and play. That this point of view has its.usefulness wo should be far from denying. How many thousands of unborn novels and dramas are awaiting nothing but the decision of their distraught would-be authors as to whether they shall be, in each instance, novel or drama,, there is no means of ascertaining. That the number is immense no ono even slightly familiar with our literary conditions can doubt. If it is so hard to get a novel published, who will bo so foolish, in'-tho face of Mr. Galsworthy's ..picture of tho obstinate actor-mauager, as to attempt a drama? Most of us, however, even yet, aro readers rather than writers. , For us thero is significance in Galsworthy's statement that ho prefers to bo thought of first as a novelist, and that, if he had to give up either novel or play-writing, it would bo the latter. What we, the ultimate literary consumers, would ask Him is: Why give up either? We are not in the habit of weighing tho relative merits and demerits of forms of literature. Sufficient for us to chooso between concrete productions, regardless of whether they bo novel, drama, or poem. We may like "Hamlet," for instance, better than any novel; but that is not necessarily or even probably becauso we prefer tho dramatic form. On tho contrary, we- may. happen td prefer that of the" novel, in so far as we have any -preference at all. What we really liko is Shakespeare, and if ho had written novels instead of-, plays, then we should inevitably havo been such novel readers as would have satisfied Mr. Wells himself. That wo neglect Mr. Wells's novels for Mr. Shakespeare's plays proves nothing at all, either regarding our liking for tho dramatic form, or tho possibilities of that of its so-called rival.—New York "Nation."