THE AMERICAN WOMAN--III
Opinions and impressions--An answer to criticism.
Whenever I read a testimonial given to a candidate for some vacant
post, I invariably take it for granted that the candidate does not
possess the virtues, attainments, or qualities which are not mentioned
in that testimonial.
This must have evidently been what that clever American writer, Mrs.
Winifred Black, thought when she read an article of mine on American
women which appeared in the Editorial section of the _New York Sunday
Journal_ some time ago. My admiration for American women is, I think,
pretty well known to the public, but more particularly to my most
intimate friends. In that article I said: 'I firmly believe the
American women to be the most fascinating, the most interesting, and
the most brilliant women in the world; and I do not see why I could not
proclaim it from the housetops, if I like, even in America.' And after
mentioning the respect which woman inspires in American men of all
classes, the liberty she enjoys, the attentions that are lavished upon
her, I concluded the article by exclaiming: 'If I could choose again my
sex and my birthplace, I would shout to the Almighty at the top of my
voice: "Oh, please make me an American woman!"'
'Now,' exclaims Mrs. Winifred Black, 'look between the words of that
cleverly constructed sentence, and he who runs may read that Max O'Rell
means to say in the still small voice of his innermost convictions:
"Make me anything on earth except an American man!"'
'And,' she goes on, 'our friend is covering himself with well-earned
glory, telling us all about the American woman. "She is beautiful,
clever, adored, a queen"; but he does not mention that she is good,
honest, true, unselfish, loving. Not a syllable about her heart and her
soul. Do you know why? Because Max O'Rell thinks that the American
woman has neither heart nor soul.'
Oh, oh! my dear lady, how quickly you set to work and jump at
conclusions!
Mrs. Winifred Black evidently believes that when I propose the toast,
'The American ladies--God bless them!' I whisper under my breath all
the time: 'The gentlemen--God help them!'
Now, madam, let me tell you that this is witty, smart, but not fair
criticism. If I ever should have the honour of being introduced to you,
I would say to you: 'When a foreigner attempts to describe the
character of the people he visits, he either receives impressions, if
he keeps his eyes fairly well open, or he forms opinions, if he resides
in that country for a long time or happens to be a born conceited
idiot. Impressions are not opinions. Impressions mean nothing more than
this: how a nation strikes a foreigner who pays a short visit to it.
You see a town for a day, you meet a person for ten minutes. That town,
that person, has left an impression on you, but you hold no opinion on
either. I know a charming little book on Denmark, honestly entitled by
its author, 'A Week in Denmark.' Now, surely you would not expect to
find in such a book a study of the institutions of Denmark or opinions
on the idiosyncrasies of the Danish people. You would not expect the
writer to tell you whether the Danish women have or have not a heart
and a soul. No, you would expect to find an impression such as the
following, which I find in that delightful, chatty, and unpretentious
little volume: 'The Danish women wear the national colours of
France--blue eyes, white complexion, and red lips.' I have been six
times in the United States. I have seen the whole continent from New
York to San Francisco, from British Columbia to Louisiana, but all the
time I have been on the move, seldom spending two days in the same
town. How could I form opinions worth repeating?
The qualities which, for instance, I may have discovered in American
women are superficial ones--I mean outward ones, those that would be
noticed by the casual visitor--brilliancy, conversational power,
beautiful figures, attractive, intelligent faces, smartness in dress,
gait, and carriage. To get at their hearts and their souls, I should
have to settle in the country, and for years and years live among the
people.