“Taranaki Central Press” THURSDAY, JUNE 24, 1937. PETER PAN’S CREATOR

Taranaki Central Press, Volume IV, Issue 455, 24 June 1937, Page 4

“Taranaki Central Press” THURSDAY, JUNE 24, 1937. PETER PAN’S CREATOR

Two extraordinary distinctions were enjoyed in his lifetime by the late Sir James Barrie: with the Prime Minister of England he enjoyed the honour of being always reported verbatim in “The Times” on the rare occasions when he spoke in public; and he is the only British writer who has seen a statue of one of his characters erected in a public park.

Every day since Sir George Frampton’s exquisite Peter Pan monument was unveiled in Kensington Gardens, children have stood there marvelling at “the boy who wouldn’t grow up,’’ and small caressing hands have put a shine on the rabbits and mice sporting about his feet. It may be that the critics who fancy themselves as the final arbiters in the solemn matter of literary reputations will say that Barrie cannot live on because he had this fault or that.

Some will say that his sentiment slipped too often into sentimentality; others will say that his gentle imagination was more feminine than masculine; but there can never be any doubt that James Barrie’s reputation is secure with the children of England. Those who first loved Peter Pan have now grown to manhood and womanhood, but their place has been taken by others, and as long as children are allowed to dream in a faery world Peter Pan, the villainous Captain Hook, and Tinker Bell will delight the hearts of the young.

It has been said that Peter Pan is now almost as necessary to the English Christmas as Santa Claus himself, and those who have seen the glistening enthralled eyes of children at the annual Christmas revival of “Peter Pan’’ in London will agree that the man who could make fantasy so real is not likely to be deprived of his power by so small and so normal a happening as death. There is an ageless quality in Peter Pan, and to some extent the same quality is present in other work of Barrie s.

Since the beginning of the present century, when he abandoned fiction for the theatre, Barrie held aloof from the times. Contemporary modes did not influence his writing. His fundamental appeal was simple: he could make people laugh; he could make them sad, but he never made them angry, and he had no bitter things to say. The fact that he would have been as much at home in one century as another should make us feel k e a fair chance of survival apart even from “Peter Pan,” which has now become a n assured part of the heritage of British childhood.