James Mickel Williams, is a book that one can justly term epoch-making.
Anyway, the work represents almost ten years out of the author’s
life—years spent teaching in a small college rather than a large one,
because only there could he hope to have sufficient time to devote to
it. The manuscript was read for the author, and offered me for
publication by an authority in whom I have the very greatest
confidence—Charles A. Beard, formerly Professor of Politics at Columbia
University and now director of the Bureau of Municipal Research in New
York. In his book Professor Williams explains the human element in the
motives of respect for law and the causes of increasing disrespect; the
economic and political attitudes of employers on the one hand and labour
on the other; progressive and reactionary judicial attitudes, especially
with respect to labour legislation; the causes of national feeling and
international rivalry and the difficulties in establishing a League of
Nations. Ought not such a work prove of value and interest to
intelligent citizens today? It will be a large octavo running to over
five hundred pages and the price will probably be six dollars.
Last year Mr. Mencken got for me, and I published in his _The Free Lance
Books_, “Ventures in Common Sense,” by E. W. Howe, of Atchison, Kansas.
Immediately afterwards most enthusiastic letters reached the author from
the big editors in the country—such men as Edward Bok, late of _The
Ladies’ Home Journal_, John M. Siddall of _The American Magazine_, Don
C. Seitz of _The New York World_, as well as letters from the presidents
of very large corporations telling of their admiration for Mr. Howe’s
philosophy. It seemed to me then as it does now that whether or not you
agree with him—and more than likely you will disagree—Mr. Howe should be
more widely known, particularly in the East. His unique little monthly
is read almost exclusively by the really important people of the
country, but the average man or woman would find it highly entertaining.
For “Ed” Howe is the Middle West and the plain American incarnate and in
his new book, “The Anthology of Another Town,” he presents a panorama,
really, of a typically middle western small town. The price is two
dollars.
A very important event in the book world will be, I think, the
publication of a translation of Knut Hamsun’s “Hunger.” It is difficult
to say why Hamsun is not known, really widely known, in the United
States. A translation of one of his books was published a few years ago.
But those who know Hamsun in the original seem to agree that “Shallow
Soil” was the worst possible novel to select for launching him in
America. I have been told of the greatness of Hamsun for a full five
years now and at last I am stirred to action. There can be no question
whatever that he is far and away the leading Scandinavian writer of the
day, and if one may judge from the acclaim with which “Growth of the
Soil” has been received in England, one of the very greatest writers of
our age. You can read about him in The Encyclopaedia Britannica and you
will learn there that “Hunger” is the book that first made him
famous—almost a generation ago. This competent translation was first
published in England in 1899, but Edwin Bjorkman’s informing, useful
introduction, was specially written for me.
Many who read this have doubtless already seen the little printed fall
announcements that went out from my office some months ago. In some
respects this announcement is inaccurate. For example, I shall not
publish de Bekker’s “Cuba.” Mr. de Bekker was delayed in getting the
manuscript written and as the book required elaborate and special
handling from an advertising point of view—it was to carry much
advertising matter—I decided finally that since he was able to get
another publisher it would be better so.
Over a year ago I persuaded Dr. A. A. Goldenweiser of The New York
School for Social Research to undertake to write a good general
introduction to anthropology—for the average reader. This was announced
as “The Groundwork of Civilization,” but as Dr. Goldenweiser has only
just delivered his manuscript, the book must go over until next year.
* * * * *
And now I would like to say something about my plans for 1921. In a
general sort of way I want to give more attention to the work of
American authors and publish more American books. American publishers
show, I believe, altogether too much deference to work that reaches us
from England. Obviously most of the time the young English novelist is a
better craftsman than the American, but there are springing up all over
the United States—in Detroit, St. Louis and Washington as well as New
York, men and women who do know how to write and who have observed to
advantage the life about them. To bring forward work of this kind shall
be my chief aim. However, we must give the devil his due even if he be a
foreigner, and I am quite sure that the feature of our spring list (I
cannot be positive of this because at the time of writing negotiations
are still in progress) will be our representation in America of the
great Danish house of Gyldendal. Gyldendal were established in
Copenhagen in 1770 and control today the majority of the best books
published in Denmark and Norway. Not long ago they opened a branch in
London especially for the publication of English translations of the
books they control. I plan next spring to bring out the first of these,
as follows:
“Growth of the Soil,” by Knut Hamsun. H. G. Wells has written Messrs.
Gyldendal as follows regarding this novel:
_Easton Glebe,
Dunmow,
June 18, 1920._
_Dear Sirs_:
_I have not yet written to thank you for sending me_ “Growth of
the Soil” _and making me acquainted with the work of Knut Hamsun.
I am ashamed to say I have never before read a book by this great
writer and indeed I did not know of his existence until now. It
amazes me that he has so long been kept from the English reading
public and the sooner you give us more of him the better I shall
be pleased. I do not know how to express the admiration I feel for
this wonderful book without seeming to be extravagant. I am not
usually lavish with my praise but indeed the book impresses me as
among the very greatest novels I have ever read. It is wholly
beautiful; it is saturated with wisdom and humour and tenderness;
these peasants are a triumph of creative understanding. I have
seen no reviews here that do justice to this work. But I find my
friends talking of it and, as it were, getting up their courage to
appreciate it at its proper value. Give us one or two more books
by Hamsun in English and our sluggish but on the whole fairly
honest criticism will begin to realize the scale he is built
upon—I say as much._
_Very sincerely yours_,
(_Signed_) H. G. WELLS.
“The Song of the Blood Red Flower,” by the Finn, Johannes Linnankoski—a
poetical tale of love which has created a veritable furor on the
continent.
“Grim,” from the Danish of Svend Fleuron, a remarkable nature story—the
life of a pike.
“Jenny,” by a Danish woman novelist, Sigrid Undset—to my mind an
intensely interesting feminist novel—honest, convincing and moving.
“The Sworn Brothers,” a stirring tale of ancient Iceland, by Gunnar
Gunnarsson, the leading Icelandic novelist—and a man who will bear
watching. (His “Guest the One-Eyed” will follow.)
Once these books are out I expect that Gyldendal will send me over four
or six new ones each season.
There will be two new detective stories by J. S. Fletcher, entitled
probably “The Chestermarke Instinct” and “The Borough Treasurer,” as
well as “The Wine of Life,” a novel of the studio and the stage by
Arthur Stringer, author of “The Prairie Mother,” etc. Late in the season
I expect to publish a new book by E. R. Punshon, whose “The Solitary
House” was so well received two years ago. “Old Fighting Days” is an
exciting tale of adventure and of the ringside in England in the days of
Napoleon. These are books for entertainment pure and simple, but the
volume of animal stories, by Hal G. Evarts, author of “The Cross Pull,”
should be more than just that;—in fact, of universal and compelling
interest.
January second should see the appearance of George Jean Nathan’s new
book, “The Theatre, the Drama, the Girls.” It will be very similar to
his last, “Comedians All,” quite his most successful—so far. At the same
time John V. A. Weaver’s book of poems in the American language, should
be ready. We are calling it “In America,” and it ought to attract a
great deal of attention. The poems tell for the most part, good stories
in the fascinating American vernacular.
This will be followed after an interval with a book (as yet unnamed) of
characteristic light verse by “Morrie” Ryskind. “Morrie” is one of the
best-known contributors to F. P. A.’s famous _The Conning Tower_ in _The
New York Tribune_, and F. P. A. himself has had not a little to do with
the getting together of this book.
For a great many years all sorts of people whose opinions I respect have
been talking to me about the novels of E. M. Forster. Finally Mr.
Galsworthy, when he was last over here, told me about “Where Angels Fear
to Tread,” which had never been published in the United States. I issued
it last year, and although it did not have the sale I had hoped for, I
am going right on reissuing Mr. Forster’s novels. The next will be
“Howard’s End,” which has been out of print for a number of years. The
regard which competent critics have for Mr. Forster’s work is very
striking. A number of them, in fact, feel certain that it is only a
matter of time before Forster’s work will be revived as has been that of
Samuel Butler. We shall see. Meanwhile I have two other novels by
Forster in line for publication, one of which has never been published
in America.
Early last year I published “The Secret Battle,” a first novel by A. P.
Herbert, a young Englishman. The book to me is still, as it was then,
the very finest English novel that has come out of the war. Mr. Herbert
has written a second novel entitled “The House by the River.” It is not,
like “The Secret Battle,” the overflow of an intense emotional
experience—it has nothing to do with the war. It is, in fact, a first
rate murder story and of a very unusual kind. But the style of the first
book is there,—my, how the man can write—the style that _The Westminster
Gazette_ said was “in many ways reminiscent of Defoe’s ... the model of
the plain tale ... in which no artistic method of purpose obtrudes
itself, but which nevertheless makes a single decisive artistic effect
on the reader.”
Some other poetry will be Richard Aldington’s “Medallions in Clay,”
translations mostly from the Greek; Conrad Aiken’s “Punch: the Immortal
Liar”—a splendid title I think—and a volume by Michael Strange to be
illustrated by John Barrymore.
André Tridon will have a new volume entitled “Psychoanalysis, Sleep and
Dreams,” Joseph Hergesheimer expects to gather into “The Meeker Ritual”
those stories which attracted so much attention when they appeared in
_The Century_, and H. L. Mencken’s “In Defense of Women,” at present out
of print, will be reissued—reset from an entirely revised manuscript.
Mencken’s “The American Language,” by the way, greatly enlarged, revised
and entirely reset, will be published (probably in two large volumes) in
the fall of 1921.
Other books that I expect to have ready in the spring are “Deadlock,”
the sixth volume in Dorothy Richardson’s now famous Pilgrimage Series, a
fifth volume in Mencken’s The Free Lance Books, “Democracy and the Will
to Power,” by James N. Wood, and a unique anthology of Devil Stories for
which the editor, Dr. Maximilian J. Rudwin, formerly of Johns Hopkins
University, has drawn on the literature of many countries. Dr. Rudwin
has planned a series of diabolical anthologies of which this is to be
the first.
I could go on, I suppose more or less indefinitely unfolding my plans
for the future—they lay, didn’t Clarence Day say earlier in this book,
“like onions on rafters”—but one must stop sometime and so I will speak
only of two other books, both of them really unusual.
One, “In the Claws of the Dragon,” is a novel dealing with the marriage
of an aristocratic young Chinaman—one of the bureaucrats—to a well-to-do
French girl. The author, George Soulie de Morant is one of the most
famous of French Sinologists, and his book presents as well as a
fascinating and exciting story, a striking picture of life and customs
in the country of Po-Chui.
The other book, “Children of No Man’s Land,” introduces another young
English novelist, G. B. Stern. The manuscript was sent to one of my most
trusted and capable readers. Here is his comment: “This book is the most
brilliant and perfect study that exists of 1, the ultra-modern studio
crowd, and 2, the hyphenate in war time; and it touches with wonderful
deftness a variety of other matters—the Jews and Zionism; patriotism and
internationalism; marriage and free love; heredity, convention and
revolt.” I shall say no more, but I reproduce here a little sketch made
by H. G. Wells after reading “Children of No Man’s Land”:
[Illustration: 52, ST JAMES’S COURT, BUCKINGHAM GATE. S.W.1.]
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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
1. Added ‘my’ on p. 37.
2. Silently corrected typographical errors.
3. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.
4. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.