[_19 Sep. '08_]
The _Athenæum_ is a serious journal, genuinely devoted to learning. The
mischief is that it will persist in talking about literature. I do not
wish to be accused of breaking a butterfly on a wheel, but the
_Athenæum's_ review of Mr. Joseph Conrad's new book, "A Set of Six," in
its four thousand two hundred and eighteenth issue, really calls for
protest. At that age the _Athenæum_ ought, at any rate, to know better
than to make itself ridiculous. It owes an apology to Mr. Conrad. Here we
have a Pole who has taken the trouble to come from the ends of the earth
to England, to learn to speak the English language, and to write it like a
genius; and he is received in this grotesque fashion by the leading
literary journal! Truly, the _Athenæum's_ review resembles nothing so much
as the antics of a provincial mayor round a foreign monarch sojourning in
his town.
* * * * *
For, of course, the _Athenæum_ is obsequious. In common with every paper
in this country, it has learnt that the proper thing is to praise Mr.
Conrad's work. Not to appreciate Mr. Conrad's work at this time of day
would amount to bad form. There is a cliche in nearly every line of the
_Athenæum_'s discriminating notice. "Mr. Conrad is not the kind of author
whose work one is content to meet only in fugitive form," etc. "Those who
appreciate fine craftsmanship in fiction," etc. But there is worse than
clichés. For example: "It is too studiously chiselled and hammered-out for
that." (God alone knows for what.) Imagine the effect of studiously
chiselling a work and then hammering it out! Useful process! I wonder the
_Athenæum_ did not suggest that Mr. Conrad, having written a story, took
it to Brooklands to get it run over by a motor-car. Again: "His effects
are studiously wrought, _although_--such is his mastery of literary
art--they produce a swift and penetrating impression." Impossible not to
recall the weighty judgment of one of Stevenson's characters upon the
_Athenæum_: "Golly, what a paper!"
* * * * *
The _Athenæum_ further says: "His is not at all the impressionistic
method." Probably the impressionistic method is merely any method that the
_Athenæum_ doesn't like. But one would ask: Has it ever read the opening
paragraph of "The Return," perhaps the most dazzling feat of impressionism
in modern English? The _Athenæum_ says also: "Upon the whole, we do not
think the short story represents Mr. Conrad's true _métier_" It may be
that Mr. Conrad's true _métier_ was, after all, that of an auctioneer;
but, after "Youth," "To-morrow," "Typhoon," "Karain," "The End of the
Tether," and half a dozen other mere masterpieces, he may congratulate
himself on having made a fairly successful hobby of the short story. The
most extraordinary of all the _Athenæum's_ remarks is this: "The one ship
story here, 'The Brute,' makes us regret that the author does not give us
more of the sea in his work." Well, considering that about two-thirds of
Mr. Conrad's work deals with the sea, considering that he has written
"Lord Jim," "The Nigger of the _Narcissus_" "Typhoon," "Nostromo," and
"The Mirror of the Sea," this regret shall be awarded the gold medal of
the silly season. If the _Athenæum_ were a silly paper, like the
_Academy_, I should have kept an august silence on this ineptitude. But
the _Athenæum_ has my respect. It ought to remember the responsibilities
of its position, and ought not to entrust an important work of letters to
some one whose most obvious characteristic is an exquisite and profound
incompetence for criticism. The explanation that occurs to me is that "A
Set of Six" and "Diana Mallory" got mixed on the _Athenæum's_ library
table, and that each was despatched to the critic chosen for the other.
* * * * *
"A Set of Six" will not count among Mr. Conrad's major works. But in the
mere use of English it shows an advance upon all his previous books. In
some of his finest chapters there is scarcely a page without a phrase that
no Englishman would have written, and in nearly every one of his books
slight positive errors in the use of English are fairly common. In "A Set
of Six" I have detected no error and extremely few questionable terms. The
influence of his deep acquaintance with French is shown in the position of
the adverb in "I saw again somebody in the porch." It cannot be called bad
English, but it is queer. "Inasmuch that" could certainly be defended
(compare "in so much that"), but an Englishman would not, I think, have
written it. Nor would an Englishman be likely to write "that sort of
adventures."
Mr. Conrad still maintains his preference for indirect narrative through
the mouths of persons who witnessed the events to be described. I dare say
that he would justify the device with great skill and convincingness. But
it undoubtedly gives an effect of clumsiness. The first story in the
volume, "Gaspar Ruiz," is a striking instance of complicated narrative
machinery. This peculiarity also detracts from the realistic authority of
the work. For by the time you have got to the end of "A Set of Six" you
have met a whole series of men who all talk just as well as Mr. Conrad
writes, and upon calm reflection the existence of a whole series of such
men must seem to you very improbable. The best pages in the book are those
devoted to the ironical contemplation of a young lady anarchist. They are
tremendous.