YVONNE. If one really feels, perhaps, but to wait and wait and wait, you
know what the end will be?
ALICE. I hope to become like Beauty, myself--a living creation, a work
of art--even though I do nothing ever in paint.
YVONNE. Yes, that is the end--not really, however, because to change
Life directly to Art means--(The sentence is not finished, a knock being
heard at the door.)
ALICE. Here's Maud; she said that she would meet me here and bring
George. (She goes and opens the door. Enter George with Maud, sister of
Alice.)
GEORGE. Hello. I've just received a wire from Uncle Billy; he's coming
to talk over the magazine with us.
ALICE. Will he back it?
GEORGE (looking at Maud). He will if I can be with him and talk to him
for a day or two, I think. (They exchange meaning glances.)
YVONNE. A magazine--you're starting one?
ALICE. Yes, I forgot to tell you about it. Something like the "Yellow
Book." It will be covered in gray, though, printed on hand-made paper
with especially designed type--four numbers a year. Have you thought of
a name, as yet, for our child, the magazine, George?
GEORGE. Yes, it will be called the "Azure Adder." Gray and blue will be
the colors of the cover. Blue the color of the Soul and gray the
coloring of the Eternal Background!
MAUD. Wonderful--wonderful!
GEORGE. It will be, I hope. (He then addresses the three girls, who are
now sitting on the couch.) Intense, too, I want it to be. The first look
at its covers must create a mood for what one is to find indoors. The
same as a perfect house affects one; the stones and vines of which, on
the outside, tell of the truffles which are to be served by the mad
butler at dinner, inside. (To himself: I must remember that last; it's
away above their heads, of course--it's one of my best.) Blue and
gray--the two unfinished colors, when arranged as my design, will call
up the proper mood: a mood intense but languid, caring nothing for
results. I hope to make this, this caring nothing for results, the aim
of our child, the "Azure Adder." To teach the public, our public even,
to be satisfied with the unfinished, the artistically unfinished; the
thing which has no definite start or finish, but which is beautiful,
beautiful, beautiful even in the shadow of its bud; a bud which can
never open because--because--a worm is its heart! (Yvonne changes her
position on the couch.) The size, too, of the book will help in creating
the mood--seven by thirteen--and the paper on which it is printed, also,
will help. A paper made in Japan, under water, which lasts only three
years. It then falls apart, insuring our child only a future, no past,
nor any permanency, except perhaps in the minds of its readers, perhaps,
perhaps. The "Azure Adder" will have double pages like the books of the
Japanese, printed on one side, so that the mere reading of it will be
made difficult for the uninitiated--people whom it is not meant for
anyway. The first number must strike the note--the ultra-future note--so
I will give to our public my dance-poem, "The Candle and the Black Water
Lily." A poem, have I told you, which I hope to have danced sometime. It
must be danced by one person while a chorus of men and boys chant the
words, in place of music for the dancer. How it will appeal, simply
alone, in the book, I don't know, without its proper atmosphere. It
almost required a new language, I felt, when I wrote it. Still, it must
be the first of our first number--ultra-modern and a new art--think, a
new art! And the illustrations, what a chance you will be, "Azure
Adder," for the artist illustrator! A sweep of a brush, a tone, a dot is
enough for our purpose; when Beauty is sitting by the side of the
reader. Yes, I see a revolution in book illustration, a glorious one, an
upheaval, one never-to-be-forgotten revolution, which, looked back upon
from the far distant future, will have at its base, forgotten or
remembered, who cares, the "Azure Adder"!
MAUD and ALICE. Ah!
(Yvonne rises, walks towards the large window at the back, a sky-light
really, opens it and leans out during the following.)
ALICE. If we can only get it started--we know very little about such
work.
MAUD. That makes no difference. We all paint and all great art is one in
its complete state. We can surely run a magazine. If only Uncle,
George's Uncle Billy, will start it financially!