WHEN THE WIND BLOWS

New Zealand Listener, Volume 14, Issue 355, 12 April 1946, Page 5

WHEN THE WIND BLOWS

Sir,--The molten iron of impulse may contain within its heat the essence of much good, but the writer of judgment does not accept as finished work the rough casting of his thought. He returns when the mould has _ cooled, brushes off the sand, grinds down the burrs, and machines his job with the knives of reason. I am sure that if Mr. Hamilton had revised his letter in this manner we _ should have received from him a more rational judgment, The Listener review of When the Wind Blows was remarkable for this, if for nothing else, that it was a novel by our leading short story writer seen through the eyes of our leading essayist. In my opinion both author and reviewer shéwed to advantage, and The Listener treated us to striking examples of differing prose, each of them excellent. So far as Mr. Holcroft’s judgment is concerned, it was obviously not given on impulse, but was arrived at after long and serious consideration. Obviously again, even if not wholly sound, it was a judgment of merit and was patently sincere. A point for Mr. Sargeson, however, is that he has nourished himself on modern American authors, whereas Mr, Holcroft has derived from traditional English literature; and it may be that Mr. Holcroft is a little out of sympathy with Mr. Sargeson. I do not say that he is; I say it is possible. From my reading of the review it appeared that he judged the book for its development of character, for its study of the growth of a boy against the setting of a certain environment, rather than the growth of character; and with such a method the characters are ancillary, or like segments of an environmental whole. Whether such a novel is to be considered complete and altogether satisfying, I leave for abler critics, although I hold for freedom in art. My chief quarrel with Mr. Hamilton, however, is with his remarks concern-

ing "the small esoteric group . . . slightly neurotic, slightly risky," ete,, and his insinuation that Mr. Holcroft is a member of such. A statement of this kind leaves an erroneous impression, for Mr. Holcroft, although his work is based on tradition, has flowered into a strong individuality: one that is neither esoteric nor neurotic, nor an offshoot of a circle. nor shared by a clique. Mr. Holcroft is always himself, and above all, he is remarkably sane and balanced, a little too sane, perhaps, for certain literary growths, growths that, in my opinion, may have none the less merit because, forged in neurosis, they bear a mark of

strange fire.-

WALLACE GAITLAND

(Invercargill).