The Letters of Katherine Mansfield

Radio Record, Volume II, Issue 31, 15 February 1929, Page 13

The Letters of Katherine Mansfield

HE world is very aware of Katherine Mansfield, her genius and personality, her courage, faith, and restless searching for the stark and sabsolute truth which was ever the one true light that beckoned her like a fiame. It is to be douhted whether Mr. Middleton Murry is justified in casting upon the troubled waters of the world these intimate reyealings of a valiant spirit tried beyond all limit of high faith and courage; but there can be no doubt that literature is enriched by this chronicle of gallant endeavour, and many who faint by the wayside of life will gain fresh impetus in realising the gallantry with which Katherine Mansfield faced that grim valley of shadows which is paved with pain, Whose final Mecea is Death. In these letters of the closing years of her life, she is discovered as poet and child; brilliant exponent of aims and technique of the artist; acute, clear-sighted critic of her contemporaries’ work; and wistful woman Whose heart's hope was some day to dwell with those she loyed in a sweet, small hame with multitudes of flowers, when "the time for singing of birds is come," _ "I want to range about with you," she wrote to Mr. Middleton Murry, "but always with our own cottage io come back to, and its thread of smoke to see far away. ‘That's life, that's the warm south, wherever it is." The literary quality is of assured richness and clarity, with a wealth of comment on the passing show, notably humorous and ironic being her observations on life in foreign pensions; all iuminated by an exquisite faculty of conveying every shade and facet of earth's loveliness; which, combined With penetrating realisation of cruelties and ineptitudes of the Great War. her wide appreciation of the sweeping panorama of the world and impatience

with its vulgarities, shams and foolish curiosities, hold spellbound the discriminating student of books and men. All heightened and adorned with lovely descriptive touches"The wind with light, faint footfalis walks over the sea; the water rings against the shore, like a bell, striking softly." In a mood of despondency she wrote :- "T know so devilishly well ‘the agony of feeling an immense longing just to have what eyerybody else takes so easily as their portion-health-a body that isn’t an enemya body that isn’t fiendishly engaged in the old, old torture of breaking one’s spirit. ..." Profound and. tragic and gay, light. ing up the intricacies of existence with the bencon of her genius, these gallant letters will live on in the literature of England, together with those of her fellow-immortals, Keats and Wordsworth and gentle Charles Lamb. At one with that great company is the gifted girl who hailed from our own little land, to whom the world pays homage, and to whom, in her gay, brave acceptance of a bitter destiny, ovr hearts go out in a great pity and a great admiration. 8 "Cover her face, mine eyes dazzle, She died young." wR. LR