Later, a second group of adventurers comes. They are disappointed in

the look of the place. But they are interested to hear that gold is

being found; and while Lamendin at last sets sail, the Donogoo-Tonka

Central Bar and the London & Donogoo-Tonka’s Splendid Hotel are going

up; it is obviously the intention of the earlier arrivals to mulct the

later.

And then, of course, gold really is found in the river bed and the

price of all provisions goes up fifty per cent.

Regrettably, _en voyage_, Lamendin tells his pioneers that Donogoo

does not exist. On his arrival at Rio de Janeiro he receives a cable

from the Professor, demanding immediate results; and as he turns in

despair he reads the announcement by Agence Meyer-Kohn, of the next

caravan to the gold fields of Donogoo-Tonka. He arrives; he takes

possession; he founds an empire, in which the religion of Scientific

Error is established. Trouhadec, still living, is deified; he becomes

Trouhadec, Father of his Country. The utility of geography is one of

the prescribed subjects for public lectures.

That is a slightly more intelligent plot than most of the adventure

things one sees in the movies. It is in the detail and in the

presentation of an _idea_, the idea of scientific error, that M Romains

has pressed beyond the professional technique of the moving picture

without once exceeding its natural limitations. For instance in the

waiting room where Lamendin sits with the other would-be suicides:

“Absurdity, given off by so many brains, becomes palpable. One begins

to distinguish a sort of very subtle exhalation which disengages itself

from the human bodies and little by little charges the atmosphere.”

The settings in this scene are very much in the manner of _Caligari_.

Or there is the debate in the soul of Professor Trouhadec who knows

that he will profit by a fraud. From the beginning the spectator must

realize that the debate is only on the surface; that in his heart

Trouhadec is going to accept; the spectator is to see him thinking of

truth with a capital T and, much deeper down, of himself as a member

of the Institute. Just as in the exploitation of Donogoo-Tonka we

see a man coming up the steps of a subway station with the words

Donogoo-Tonka written on every step; until, as he emerges, his skull

ceases to be opaque, and we see the twelve little letters dancing in

his brain. M Romains has even carried the thing over into Keystone

farce, so sure is he of his medium. During one of the lectures “his

eloquence is so persuasive, his thought opens such penetrating channels

into human nature that, little by little, little by little, a soft down

begins to sprout on the bald head” of a man in the audience. _Ça c’est

du Cinema_, as M Cendrars says.

M Romains has also a complete understanding of projection. He protests,

in a preface, against the monotonous speeding-up of pictures and

urges that this one be taken and shown in the rhythm of ordinary

life, with a shading toward slow, especially in the scenes “where the

only events which pass before us are the thoughts of the characters”

(required reading for Mr Griffith and Mr de Mille for one year is in

those words). In the scenes which exploit the shares in Donogoo-Tonka

we enter into the minds of individuals, of groups, of crowds; at the

end the very framework of a building succumbs to the madness of the

idea. And then, with a technical mastery not yet put into practise,

M Romains directs that the various scenes just projected be shown

again, side by side, with a gradually accelerated rhythm. In the scenes

of the adventurers we get glimpses at Marseilles, London, Naples,

Porto, Singapore, San Francisco; then we see the groups starting out;

the lines of their voyage converge. These scenes are projected first

in succession and then _simultaneously_. Each time we see them we

recognize some of the individuals we have seen before. “And when by

chance the faces are turned towards us, we have a feeling that they,

too, recognize us.” The cinema has not yet accomplished that; chiefly,

I fancy, because it never has been asked to.

M Romains is the prophet of _unanisme_, and it would be remarkable

if he did not use the moving picture to push his point. The end of

Donogoo-Tonka is pure poetry.

The horizon has receded before the Palace and the chief figures look

out into a light which has its own laws. Paris appears deep in the

background. “But so close, perhaps, that we are troubled to see it and

would like to fall back a step.

“As if, yielding to friendly pressure, the world has renounced for one

evening its concept of space and all its habits.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I owe so much to others in connexion with this book that if I were to

set down the names and the reasons it would appear, quite properly,

that I have done little except collect and theorize about material

presented to me; it might also appear that I wish to make others

responsible. Virtually everyone I know has contributed something--and

in many cases they did so before I had thought of writing this book.

I can therefore make only specific acknowledgments. Above all to two

managing editors, John Peale Bishop and Edmund Wilson, Jr., of _Vanity

Fair_ and to their editor, Frank Crowninshield; they published several

essays which later served as the raw material for chapters here,

published portions of other chapters written expressly for this book,

and otherwise encouraged and prospered me--to such an extent that I owe

to them and to my fellow-editors of the _Dial_ the holiday which made

it possible for me to write at all. Except as otherwise acknowledged,

the illustrations are reproduced with the permission of the artists;

in addition, I have to thank the editors of the two journals mentioned

for joining their permission in the case of work they originally

reproduced, the firm of Albert and Charles Boni for the liberal use

of Frueh’s Stage Folk, and H. T. Parker of the Boston _Transcript_

for letting me reprint _A Conversation in Old Athens_. For technical

information and exceptionally painstaking criticism I am indebted

to Sara and Gerald Murphy, Martin Brown, Alexander Steinert, Deems

Taylor, Lewis Galantière, H. K. Moderwell, and Dorothy Butler; for the

material in the appendix to Charles Chaplin, Irving Berlin, Bushnell

Dimond, Walter Hoban, and Sophie Wittenberg. My indebtedness to those

whom I do not know--those I have written about--is too apparent to need

emphasis, and too great to be adequately acknowledged.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Except that supplied by the professional journals--often excellent.

[2] But there is more to say; a little of it occurs on page 41.

[3] Scenario by the adroit Anita Loos.

[4] Seven years ago, when this imaginary conversation was published, I

wanted to be fair to Mr Eaton and to persuade Mr Griffith to do Helen

of Troy. I succeeded in neither, and the document has only historical

interest. I do not know Mr Eaton’s present stand on the movies, and

I apologize to him for retaining his name here. What I do know is Mr

Griffith’s position. It will be entertaining to compare it with the

imaginary future outlined for him above. See page 323.

G. S.

[5] See Appendix.

[6] It appeared in _The New Republic_ and will probably be found in

_The Flower in Drama_ (Scribners).

[7] See page 92.

[8] My indebtedness, and, I suppose, the indebtedness of everyone who

cares at all for negro music, is apparent--to Afro-American Folksongs,

by Henry Edward Krehbiel (Schirmer).

[9] It has been clairvoyantly pointed out to me by another composer

that Berlin’s preëminence in ragtime and jazz may be traced to his

solitary devotion to melody and rhythm; in the jazz sense there remains

something always pure in his work. This supports the suggestion made in

the next paragraph.

[10] Internal, off-beat rhyme occurred as long ago as _Waiting for

the Robert E. Lee_. Bud de Sylva has used it intelligently, but

not expertly enough in _Where is the Man of My Dreams?_ and Brian

Hooker and William Le Baron make it a great factor in their highly

sophisticated lyrics. So also Cole Porter.

[11] In “The Spice of Variety,” which he conducts for _Saucy Stories_.

[12] Since writing this I am informed that the Winter Garden has

changed, at least structurally. But even if the type of show at

that house also changes, _The Passing Show_ as a type will be seen

elsewhere, so I leave what I have written. In 1913 or 1914 Mr H. K.

Moderwell wrote of the worst show in years, “They call it _The Passing

Show_. Let it pass.” Apparently they did.

[13] This review appeared in _Vanity Fair_ sometime in the summer of

1922. I allow it to stand with nothing more than verbal corrections

in spite of my dislike of books which collect articles expressly

written for magazine publication, because I feel that the negro show

is extraordinarily transient and that a transient criticism of it is

adequate. The permanent qualities are touched on elsewhere; especially

in the essay entitled “Toujours Jazz.” Since this was written there

have been other negro shows, and I have heard that one was better than

_Shuffle Along_. What has interested me more is the report that there

is a “nigger show by white men” which is standing them up every night.

This verifies a prediction made below--that the negro show would have

an effect on the white man’s. I am not at all sure that there will

not continue to be negro shows for a long time--why in Heaven’s name

shouldn’t there be? They have their qualities and their great virtues.

It is only in relation to the sophisticated Broadway piece that I find

them lacking; and have perhaps not been fair enough to them.

[14] For da Ponte’s share in the work, cf. Edgar Istel: Das Libretto,

which analyzes the changes made in Beaumarchais’ play.

[15] All this was written before Bert Savoy died. I haven’t changed the

verbs to the past tense. “How well could we have spared for him....”

[16] R. C. Benchley has written a just and sympathetic account of

Jackson. It appeared in a magazine and is not, so far as I know,

available in book form.

[17] A number of comic-strip artists, on achieving fame, stop drawing,

leaving that work to copyists of exceptional skill. I do not know

whether this is the case in the _Happy Hooligan_ strip.

[18] I must hasten to correct an erroneous impression which may have

caused pain to many of Krazy’s admirers. The three children, Milton,

Marshall, and Irving, are of Ignatz, not, as Mr Stark Young says, of

Krazy. Krazy is not an unmarried mother. For the sake of the record I

may as well note here the names of the other principals: Offisa Bull

Pupp; Mrs Ignatz Mice; Kristofer Kamel; Joe Bark the moon hater; Don

Kiyoti, that inconsequential heterodox; Joe Stork, alias Jose Cigueno;

Mock Duck; Kolin Kelly the brick merchant; Walter Cephus Austridge; and

the Kat Klan: Aunt Tabby, Uncle Tom, Krazy Katbird, Osker Wildcat, Alec

Kat, and the Krazy Katfish.

[19] See Appendix.

[20] Heywood Broun has discovered that everybody in vaudeville is an

“artist” except the trained seal.

[21] I do not know enough of Carl Hyson and Dorothy Dickson or of the

Astaires to judge their place.

[22] For example: “Ours is a sincere doubt as to whether the question

‘And what did _you_ do during the Great War?’ might not embarrass,

among others, God.”

[23] He said of Firpo that when he came up after the sixth or seventh

knock-down, his face looked like a slateful of wrong answers.

[24] A footnote to a footnote is preposterous. Perhaps the very excess

of its obscurity will give it prominence and render faint justice to

the old New York _Hippodrome_. It is a fine example of handling of

material, and of adjustment, spoiled occasionally by too much very loud

singing and a bit of art. It is part of New York’s small-townness; but

it is so vast in its proportions that it can never acquire the personal

following of a small one-ring circus like the Medrano in Paris. I adore

the _Hippodrome_ when it is a succession of acts: the trained crow

and Ferry who plays music on a fence and the amazing mechanical and

electrical effects. Joe Jackson, one of the greatest of clowns, played

there, too, and had ample scope. I like also the complete annihilation

of personality in the chorus. When you see three hundred girls doing

the same thing it becomes a problem in mass--I recall one instance when

it was a mass of white backs with black lines indicating the probable

existence of clothes--the whole thing was quite unhuman. And one great

scene in which, I believe, the whole of the personnel participated:

there were, it seemed, hundreds of tumblers and scores of clowns, and

a whole toy shop in excited action. Oddly enough, one finds that the

weakness of the _Hip_ is in its humour; there is plenty of it, but it

is not concentrated, and there is no specific _Hippodrome_ “style.”

What it will become under the new Keith régime remains to be seen.

[25] I have seen them since in another entrance, the most brilliant of

all. See Appendix.

[26] They nevertheless played exquisitely, I am told, in the

Cocteau-Milhaud _Bœuf sur le Toit_.

[27] _Quanto più, un’ arte porta seco fatica di corpo, tanto più è

vile!_ Pater, who quotes this of Leonardo, calls it “princely.”

[28] It is not too late for you to film Mr D. Taylor’s _Should a

Brother-in-Law Give a Damn?_

[29] I haven’t seen _The Covered Wagon_. Its theme returns to the

legendary history of America. There is no reason why it should not have

been highly imaginative. But I wonder whether the thousands of prairie

schooners one hears about are the film or the image. In the latter case

there is no objection.

[30] They have done so. See “The Cinema Novel.”

[31] I wrote once, and was properly rapped over the knuckles for

writing, that it wasn’t to escape Bach, but to escape Puccini, that

one played Berlin. Mr Haviland, whom I have quoted frequently, replied

that those who really cared for jazz cared for it, not as an escape

from any other art. I had not intended to write an apology; only,

since I was replying to the usual attack on the jazz arts, I wanted to

indicate that in addition to their primary virtues they have this great

secondary one, that when we are too fed up with bad drawing, bad music,

bad acting, and second-rate sentiment, we can be sure of consolation in

the lively arts.

_Index of Principal Names_

INDEX OF PRINCIPAL NAMES

(_Numerals enclosed in =equals signs= indicate the chief references_)

Adams, F. P., 120, =279–282=

Ade, George, 119, 120, 166

Aiken, Spottiswood, 329

Alder, Else, 170

Anderson, John Murray, 131, 134, =143–145=, 153, 371

Anderson, Sherwood, 123, 341

Arbuckle, Fatty, 12, 18, 19

Astaires, The, 272 f

Bach, Johann Sebastian, 310, 350

Baer, Arthur “Bugs,” 278, =285–287=

Baker, Belle, 196, 256

Balieff, Nikita, =260–262=

Bara, Theda, 338

Barnes, Helen, 186

Barton, Jimmy, 172, 206, 207

Barrymore, John, 330

Bayes, Nora, 172

Beggar’s Opera, 169, 173, 188

Bell, Clive, 104, 108, 150

Benchley, R. C., 208, 316

Berlin, Irving, =57–66=, =69–80=, =83–108=, 131, 139, 141–143, 145,

170, =186–188=, 216, 242, 273, 318, 348, 353, =369–371=

Bernard, Sam, 142

Bernie, Barney, 100

Bierce, Ambrose, 120

Bitzer, George, 333

Blake, Sissle and, 94, 96, =149–158=

Bolton, Guy, 165, 166

Braham, Philip, 74

Brian, Donald, 172, 272

Briants, The Two, 251, 257

Brice, Fanny, 135, 145, =191–200=, =208=, 251, 252, 309

Briggs, Clare, 216, =218–220=

Brisbane, Arthur, 234

Brooks, Shelton, 156

Brooks, Van Wyck, 111

Broun, Heywood, 113, 129, 136, 250 f, 281, 283, =284–285=

Brown Brothers, The Six, 251, 256

Brown, Jessica, 272

Busch, Wilhelm, 215

Cabinet of Dr Caligari, The, 8, 325, 331, 335, 339

Cæsar, Irving, 371

Cantor, Eddie, 129, 139, =178–180=, 184, 196, 304

Carpenter, John Alden, 144, 217, 236, =240–242=, 377–379

Carter, Frank, 146

Carter, Nick, 328

Caryll, Ivan, 65, 165, 170

Castle, Irene, 186, 309, 318

Castle, Vernon and Irene, 156, =273–274=

Cendrars, Blaise, =384–386=

Chaliapin, Feodor, 204, 313

Chalif, Louis H., 318

Chaplin, Charlie, =3–24=, =41–54=, 144, 213, 232, 238, 241, 259, 301,

309, 319, 334, 347, 348, 352, 353, =361–366=

Cimarosa, Domenico, 164

Claire, Ina, 146, 185

Clark, Bobby, 134, 207

Cocteau, Jean, 304

Cohan, George M., 70, 78, =137–139=, 154, 171, 260, 271

Collier, Willie, 138, 142

Confrey, Zez, 84, 90, 92

Conklin, Chester, 12, 17

Conrad, Joseph, 327, 337

Cook, Clyde, 18

Cook, Joe, 178, 251, =258–260=

Coogan, Jackie, 50

Crawford, Clifton, 172

Creamer and Layton, 94, 96, =149–158=

Crowley, Aleister, =374–376=

D’Annunzio, Gabriele, 325

DeBeck, Billy, 224, 225

De Mille, Cecil, 6, 309, 338

Deslys, Gaby, 185, 186, 187, =209–210=

Dickson, Dorothy, 272 f

Dillingham, Charles B., 145–146, 169, 170

Dimond, Bushnell, 9

Dixon, Harland, 169, 186, 187, 273

Donahue, Jack, 256

Donaldson, Walter, 84, 91

Doner, Kitty, 179

Dooley, Johnny, 172, 241, 251, 255, 256, 271

Dooley, Mr (Martin), =111–126=, 309

Dooley, Ray, 178, 241

Doyle and Dixon, 186, 187, =273=

Drew, Sidney, Mr & Mrs, 19–20

Dryden, Helen, 145, 172, 186

Duffy and Sweeney, 251, 257

Duncan, Isadora, 317

Eaton, Walter Pritchard, =27–38=

Eliot, T. S., 104, 106, 361

Ellis, Havelock, 345

Emerson, John, 339

Errol, Leon, 146, =206=, 260, 271

Europe, Jim, 100, 103, =156–158=

Fairbanks, Douglas, 20

Fall, Leo, 64, 65

Fazenda, Louise, 12

Ferry, 294

Fisher, Bud, 216

Fisher, Fred, 84, 91

Fortunello and Cirillino, 144, 209, 294, 297

Forty-niners, =260–261=, 316

Fox, Fontaine, 225

Fox, Harry, 186, 187

Fox, William, 334

France, Anatole, 118, 231

Fratellini, The Three, 209, =297–305=, =380–382=

Friml, Rudolf, 165

Frisco, 271

Frueh, Alfred, 217, =227–228=

Geddes, Norman-Bel, 172, 313

George, Yvonne, 144, 145, 197, 198

Gershwin, George, 73, 74, 75, 89, 91, =92–93=, 195

Gibbs, A. Harrington, =94–95=

Gilbert and Sullivan, 161, 162, 163, 164

Glass, Montague, 119, 120, 121

Glyn, Elinor, 324

Goldberg, Rube, 224, 227

Gourmont, Remy de, 203

Granville, Bernard, 181

Greenwich Village Follies, =143–145=

Greenwood, Charlotte, 272

Grey, Gilda, 95, 135, 141, 154, 209

Griffith, D. W., 4, 6, 13, 23, =27–38=, 323, 325, 327, 329, =331–335=

Grock, 294, 297

Guilbert, Yvette, 197

Ham & Bud, 22, 352

Hammond, Percy, 249

Handy, 97

Harris, Charles K., 58

Haviland, Walter, 100–102, 255, 353

Hazzard, John, 144, 372

Held, Anna, 135

held, j., 226

Herbert, Victor, 135, =171–172=, 199

Herriman, George, 50, 144, 214, 217, 228, =231–245=, 309, 377, 379

Hershfield, 218, =224–225=

Hirsch, Louis, 66, 72, 89–90, 171

Hitchcock, Raymond, 178

Hoban, Walter, 144, 220, =225=

Hooker, Brian, 89, 172

Houdini, Harry, 256

Howard, Eugene and Willie, 208

Hughes, Rupert, 324

Hyson, Carl, 272 f

Ince, Thomas H., 4, 6, 13, 334

Irwin, Wallace, 119, 120

Jackson, Joe, =208–209=, 294 f

James, Henry, 310, 314

Janis, Elsie, =185–186=

Johnston, Justine, 186, 187

Jolson, Al, 62, 74, 91, 139, 177, 178, 179, 184, =191–200=, 309, 347

Joyce, James, 104, 106, 117

Kalman, Emmerich, 65

Katterjohn, Monte, 339

Keaton, Buster, 6, 17, 18

Keith, B. F., Vaudeville, =249–263=, =294=

Kelly, Harry, 145, 207

Kern, Jerome, 66, 72–73, 92, 161, =165–170=, 273, 348

Ketten, M., 221

Keystone Comedy, =3–24=

Knight, Percival, 172

Kraus, Werner, 331

Krehbiel, H. E., 86–88

Kreisler, Fritz, 170

Lardner, Ring, =111–126=, 135, 309

Layton, Creamer and, 94, 96, =149–158=

LeBaron, William, 170

Lehar, Franz, 65, 161, 163, 164

Leonard, Baird, 279, =282=

Leonardo da Vinci, 319

Levey, Ethel, =254–255=, 258

Lewis, Ada, 169, 209

Lloyd, Harold, 6, 15, 49

Loos, Anita, 20 f, 339

Lopez, Vincent, 100, =102–103=

Lorraine, Lillian, 135, 146

Lubitsch, E., 13, 335

MacNamara, Tom, 222

McIntyre and Heath, 152

McQuinn, Robert, 145, 186

Mann, Hank, 12, 15

Mansfield, Richard, 249

Marceline, 294

Marquis, Don, =282–283=

Marsh, Mae, 329, 330, 331, 333

Marx Brothers, The Four, 251, 256

Maurice, 169, =273=

Mencken, H. L., 278

Merrill, Blanche, 197

Milhaud, Darius, 85, 100, 304 f

Mills, Florence, 62, 99, =154–155=

Milton, Robert, 165

Mistinguett, 185

Moderwell, H. K., 131 f

Moeller, Helen, 318

Molnar, Ferencz, 314, 315, 337

Monckton, L., 65, 165

Monroe, George, 205

Moore, Florence, 142, 209

Moran, Polly, 12

Moret, Neil, 62

Morgan, Marion, 318

Morley, Christopher, =283=

Moss and Frye, 252

Mozart, W. A., 161, 163, 164

Muck, Karl, 157

Music Box Revue, =141–143=

Nathan, George Jean, 60, 129

Nijinsky, Waslaw, 318, 353

Normand, Mabel, 11, 19

Norris, Frank, =331=

Parker, Sir Gilbert, 324

Pater, Walter, Title page, 108, 203, 319

Pennington, Ann, 272

Phillips, H. I., =277–278=

Picasso, Pablo, 104, 107, 310, =345–347=

Pilcer, Harry, 187

Piquer, Conchita, 140

Porter, Cole, 73, =92–94=

Powers, T. E., 226

Preston, Keith, 284

Puccini, Giacomo, 312, 313, 345, 353

Purviance, Edna, 12

Randall, Carl, 270, 271

Rath Brothers, 140, 251, 257, 351–352

Ray, Charles, 16, 21

Ring, Blanche, 139, 208

Riq, 279

Rogers, Will, 129, 135

Romains, Jules, =386–390=

Rubens, Paul, 165

Ruth, George H. (Babe), 351

Sale, Chic, 257, 258

Sanderson, Julia, 172, 272

Santayana, George, 140, 249

Savoy, Bert, 134, 144, 145, =205–206=

Savoy Operetta, =161–173=

Schaeffer, Sylvester, 258

Semon, Larry, 18

Sennett, Mack, =4–24=, 42, 309

Shaw, Bernard, 314

Sissle and Blake, 94, 96, =149–158=

Sloane, A. Baldwin, 372

Smith, Edgar, 372

Smith, Syd, 221

St. John, Al, 17

Stone, Fred, =182–183=, 249

Stearns, Harold E., 214, 215

Straus, Oscar, 163, 164, 168

Strauss, Johann, 64

Strawinsky, Igor, 99, 104, 106, 346

Sullivan, C. Gardner, 14

Swain, Mack, 17

Sweet, Blanche, 329, 330

Swift, Jonathan, 111, 121, 123

Swinnerton, Jimmy, 215

Symons, Arthur, 250

Tad, 218, =220=, 227, 367

Tanguay, Eva, =374–376=

Taylor, Bert Leston, =278–279=

Taylor, Deems, 242, 328 f

Tempest, Marie, 154

Tempest and Sunshine, 186

Thomas, Augustus, 314

Tiller Girls, 270

Tinney, Frank, =180–182=, 196

Turpin, Ben, 11–12, 16–17, 44–45

Twain, Mark, 111, 112

Urban, Joseph, 130, 151, 170, 313, 334

Van Hoven, Frank, 257, 258, 259

Van and Schenck, 251, 256

Veidt, Conrad, 204, 331

Viennese Operetta, =161–173=

Wagner, Richard, 312, 313

Walthall, Henry, 329, 333

Ward, Artemas, 120

Warner, H. B., 331

Watson, Harry, Jr., 134, 251, 257

Wayburn, Ned, 151

Weaver, J. V. A., 124

Webster, H. T., 221

White, Pearl, 327, 328

Whiteman, Paul, 70, 89, 93, 99, 100, =103–104=, 106

Williams, Bert, 135, 146, 208

Williams, Herbert and Wolfus, 251, 257

Williams and Walker, 152

Wilson, Edmund, 136

Winninger, Charles, 138, 139, 208

Winter Garden, =139–141=

Withers, Charles, 257, 258

Wodehouse, P. G., =165–169=

Woollcott, Alexander, 181

Wynn, Ed, 181, =183–185=, 196

Young, Stark, 52, 53, 234 f, 235

Ziegfeld, Florenz, =129–146=, 151, 153, 170, 309

Transcriber’s Notes

Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a

predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they

were not changed.

Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced quotation

marks were remedied when the change was obvious, and otherwise left

unbalanced.

Illustrations in this eBook have been positioned between paragraphs

and outside quotations. In versions of this eBook that support

hyperlinks, the page references in the List of Illustrations lead to

the corresponding illustrations.

Halftone patterns in some illustrations could not be entirely obscured.

Footnotes, originally at the bottoms of pages, have been collected,

renumbered, and placed just before the Index.

The index was not checked for proper alphabetization or correct page

references. It was not always possible to determine whether or not some

references were in boldface.

“Strawinsky” is spelled that way throughout this book.

Page 209: “surexcess” was printed that way.

Page 219: “gettings” was printed that way.

Page 379: “Indominatable” was printed that way.

Page 395: “Cæsar, Irving” was mispelled here, but spelled correctly on

the referenced page.

The Seven Lively Arts · 第 19 / 19 段