MISINFORMING A NATION
BOOKS BY MR. WRIGHT
MISINFORMING A NATION
MODERN PAINTING: Its Tendency and Meaning
WHAT NIETZSCHE TAUGHT
THE MAN OF PROMISE
THE CREATIVE WILL
IN PREPARATION
MODERN LITERATURE
PRINCIPLES OF ÆSTHETIC FORM AND ORGANIZATION
_Misinforming a Nation_
_by Willard Huntington Wright_
[Illustration]
_New York_ _B. W. Huebsch_ _MCMXVII_
COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY
B. W. HUEBSCH
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I COLONIZING AMERICA 1
II THE NOVEL 24
III THE DRAMA 52
IV POETRY 68
V BRITISH PAINTING 85
VI NON-BRITISH PAINTING 102
VII MUSIC 122
VIII SCIENCE 148
IX INVENTIONS, PHOTOGRAPHY, ÆSTHETICS 160
X PHILOSOPHY 174
XI RELIGION 195
XII TWO HUNDRED OMISSIONS 218
MISINFORMING A NATION
I
COLONIZING AMERICA
The intellectual colonization of America by England has been going
on for generations. Taking advantage of her position of authority—a
position built on centuries of æsthetic tradition—England has let
pass few opportunities to ridicule and disparage our activities in
all lines of creative effort, and to impress upon us her own assumed
cultural superiority. Americans, lacking that sense of security which
long-established institutions would give them, have been influenced
by the insular judgments of England, and, in an effort to pose as _au
courant_ of the achievements of the older world, have adopted in large
degree the viewpoint of Great Britain. The result has been that for
decades the superstition of England’s pre-eminence in the world of art
and letters has spread and gained power in this country. Our native
snobbery, both social and intellectual, has kept the fires of this
superstition well supplied with fuel; and in our slavish imitation
of England—the only country in Europe of which we have any intimate
knowledge—we have de-Americanized ourselves to such an extent that
there has grown up in us a typical British contempt for our own native
achievements.
One of the cardinal factors in this Briticization of our intellectual
outlook is the common language of England and America. Of all the
civilized nations of the world, we are most deficient as linguists.
Because of our inability to speak fluently any language save our own,
a great barrier exists between us and the Continental countries. But
no such barrier exists between America and England; and consequently
there is a constant exchange of ideas, beliefs, and opinions. English
literature is at our command; English criticism is familiar to us; and
English standards are disseminated among us without the impediment
of translation. Add to this lingual _rapprochement_ the traditional
authority of Great Britain, together with the social aspirations
of moneyed Americans, and you will have both the material and the
psychological foundation on which the great edifice of English culture
has been reared in this country.
The English themselves have made constant and liberal use of these
conditions. An old and disquieting jealousy, which is tinctured not a
little by resentment, has resulted in an open contempt for all things
American. And it is not unnatural that this attitude should manifest
itself in a condescending patronage which is far from being good-natured.
Our literature is derided; our artists are ridiculed; and in nearly
every field of our intellectual endeavor England has found grounds for
disparagement. It is necessary only to look through British newspapers
and critical journals to discover the contemptuous and not infrequently
venomous tone which characterizes the discussion of American culture.
At the same time, England grasps every opportunity for foisting her own
artists and artisans on this country. She it is who sets the standard
which at once demolishes our individual expression and glorifies the
efforts of Englishmen. Our publishers, falling in line with this
campaign, import all manner of English authors, eulogize them with the
aid of biased English critics, and neglect better writers of America
simply because they have displeased those gentlemen in London who sit in
judgment upon our creative accomplishments. Our magazines, edited for the
most part by timid nobodies whose one claim to intellectual distinction
is that they assiduously play the parrot to British opinion, fill their
publications with the work of English mediocrities and ignore the more
deserving contributions of their fellow-countrymen.
Even our educational institutions disseminate the English superstition
and neglect the great men of America; for nowhere in the United States
will you find the spirit of narrow snobbery so highly developed as in our
colleges and universities. Recently an inferior British poet came here,
and, for no other reason apparently save that he was English, he was made
a professor in one of our large universities! Certainly his talents did
not warrant this appointment, for there are at least a score of American
poets who are undeniably superior to this young Englishman. Nor has he
shown any evidences of scholarship which would justify the honor paid
him. But an Englishman, if he seek favors, needs little more than proof
of his nationality, whereas an American must give evidence of his worth.
England has shown the same ruthlessness and unscrupulousness in her
intellectual colonization of America as in her territorial colonizations;
and she has also exhibited the same persistent shrewdness. What is more,
this cultural extension policy has paid her lavishly. English authors, to
take but one example, regard the United States as their chief source of
income. If it were the highest English culture—that is, the genuinely
significant scholarship of the few great modern British creators—which
was forced upon America, there would be no cause for complaint. But the
governing influences in English criticism are aggressively middle-class
and chauvinistic, with the result that it is the British _bourgeois_ who
has stifled our individual expression, and misinformed us on the subject
of European culture.
No better instance of this fact can be pointed to than the utterly false
impression which America has of French attainments. French genius has
always been depreciated and traduced by the British; and no more subtle
and disgraceful campaign of derogation has been launched in modern times
than the consistent method pursued by the English in misinterpreting
French ideals and accomplishments to Americans. To England is due
largely, if not entirely, the uncomplimentary opinion that Americans
have of France—an opinion at once distorted and indecent. To the average
American a French novel is regarded merely as a salacious record of
adulteries. French periodicals are looked upon as collections of prurient
anecdotes and licentious pictures. And the average French painting is
conceived as a realistic presentation of feminine nakedness. So deeply
rooted are these conceptions that the very word “French” has become, in
the American’s vocabulary, an adjective signifying all manner of sexual
abnormalities, and when applied to a play, a story, or an illustration,
it is synonymous with “dirty” and “immoral.” This country has yet
to understand the true fineness of French life and character, or to
appreciate the glories of French art and literature; and the reason for
our distorted ideas is that French culture, in coming to America, has
been filtered through the nasty minds of middle-class English critics.
But it is not our biased judgment of the Continental nations that is
the most serious result of English misrepresentation; in time we will
come to realize how deceived we were in accepting England’s insinuations
that France is indecent, Germany stupid, Italy decadent, and Russia
barbarous. The great harm done by England’s contemptuous critics is
in belittling American achievement. Too long has _bourgeois_ British
culture been forced upon the United States; and we have been too gullible
in our acceptance of it without question. English critics and English
periodicals have consistently attempted to discourage the growth of any
national individualism in America, by ridiculing or ignoring our best
æsthetic efforts and by imposing upon us their own insular criteria.
To such an extent have they succeeded that an American author often
must go to England before he will be accepted by his own countrymen.
Thus purified by contact with English culture, he finds a way into our
appreciation.
But on the other hand, almost any English author—even one that England
herself has little use for—can acquire fame by visiting this country.
Upon his arrival he is interviewed by the newspapers; his picture appears
in the “supplements”; his opinions emblazon the headlines and are
discussed in editorials; and our publishers scramble for the distinction
of bringing out his wares. In this the publishers, primarily commercial,
reveal their business acumen, for they are not unaware of the fact that
the “literary” sections of our newspapers are devoted largely to British
authors and British letters. So firmly has the English superstition taken
hold of our publishers that many of them print their books with English
spelling. The reason for this un-American practice, so they explain, is
that the books may be ready for an English edition without resetting. The
English, however, do not use American spelling at all, though, as a rule,
the American editions of English books are much larger than the English
edition of American books. But the English do not like our spelling;
therefore we gladly arrange matters to their complete satisfaction.
The evidences of the American’s enforced belief in English superiority
are almost numberless. Apartment houses and suburban sub-divisions are
named after English hotels and localities. The belief extends even to the
manufacturers of certain brands of cigarettes which, for sale purposes,
are advertised as English, although it would be difficult to find a
box of them abroad. The American actor, in order to gain distinction,
apes the dress, customs, intonation and accent of Englishmen. His great
ambition is to be mistaken for a Londoner. This pose, however, is not all
snobbery: it is the outcome of an earnest desire to appear superior; and
so long has England insisted upon her superiority that many Americans
have come to adopt it as a cultural fetish.
Hitherto this exalted intellectual guidance has been charitably given us:
never before, as now, has a large fortune been spent to make America pay
handsomely for the adoption of England’s provincialism. I refer to the
_Encyclopædia Britannica_ which, by a colossal campaign of flamboyant
advertising, has been scattered broadcast over every state in the union.
No more vicious and dangerous educational influence on America can
readily be conceived than the articles in this encyclopædia. They distort
the truth and disseminate false standards. America is now far enough
behind the rest of the civilized world in its knowledge of art, without
having added to that ignorance the erroneous impressions created by
this partial and disproportioned English work; for, in its treatment of
the world’s progress, it possesses neither universality of outlook nor
freedom from prejudice in its judgments—the two primary requisites for
any work which lays claim to educational merit. Taken as a whole, the
_Britannica’s_ divisions on culture are little more than a brief for
British art and science—a brief fraught with the rankest injustice toward
the achievements of other nations, and especially toward those of America.
The distinguishing feature of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ is its
petty national prejudice. This prejudice appears constantly and in many
disguises through the Encyclopædia’s pages. It manifests itself in the
most wanton carelessness in dealing with historical facts; in glaring
inadequacies when discussing the accomplishments of nations other than
England; in a host of inexcusable omissions of great men who do not
happen to be blessed with English nationality; in venom and denunciation
of viewpoints which do not happen to coincide with “English ways of
thinking”; and especially in neglect of American endeavor. Furthermore,
the _Britannica_ shows unmistakable signs of haste or carelessness
in preparation. Information is not always brought up to date. Common
proper names are inexcusably misspelled. Old errors remain uncorrected.
Inaccuracies abound. Important subjects are ignored. And only in the
field of English activity does there seem to be even an attempt at
completeness.
The _Encyclopædia Britannica_, if accepted unquestioningly throughout
this country as an authoritative source of knowledge, would retard our
intellectual development fully twenty years; for so one-sided is its
information, so distorted are its opinions, so far removed is it from
being an international and impartial reference work, that not only does
it give inadequate advice on vital topics, but it positively creates
false impressions. Second- and third-rate Englishmen are given space and
praise much greater than that accorded truly great men of other nations;
and the eulogistic attention paid English endeavor in general is out
of all proportion to its deserts. In the following chapters I shall
show specifically how British culture is glorified and exaggerated, and
with what injustice the culture of other countries is treated. And I
shall also show the utter failure of this Encyclopædia to fulfill its
claim of being a “universal” and “objective” reference library. To the
contrary, it will be seen that the _Britannica_ is a narrow, parochial,
opinionated work of dubious scholarship and striking unreliability.
With the somewhat obscure history of the birth of the Eleventh Edition of
the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, or with the part played in that history
by Cambridge University and the London _Times_, I am not concerned.
Nor shall I review the unethical record of the two issues of the
Encyclopædia. To those interested in this side of the question I suggest
that they read the following contributions in Reedy’s _Mirror_: _The
Same Old Slippery Trick_ (March 24, 1916). _The Encyclopædia Britannica
Swindle_ (April 7, 1916). _The Encyclopædia Britannica Fake_ (April 14,
1916); and also the article in the March 18 (1916) _Bellman_, _Once More
the Same Old Game_.
Such matters might be within the range of forgiveness if the contents
of the _Britannica_ were what were claimed for them. But that which
does concern me is the palpable discrepancies between the statements
contained in the advertising, and the truth as revealed by a perusal
of the articles and biographies contained in the work itself. The
statements insisted that the _Britannica_ was a _supreme_, _unbiased_,
and _international_ reference library—an impartial and objective review
of the world; and it was on these statements, repeated constantly,
that Americans bought the work. The truth is that the _Encyclopædia
Britannica_, in its main departments of culture, is characterized by
misstatements, inexcusable omissions, rabid and patriotic prejudices,
personal animosities, blatant errors of fact, scholastic ignorance, gross
neglect of non-British culture, an astounding egotism, and an undisguised
contempt for American progress.
Rarely has this country witnessed such indefensible methods in
advertising as those adopted by the _Britannica’s_ exploiters. The “copy”
has fairly screamed with extravagant and fabulous exaggerations. The
vocabulary of hyperbole has been practically exhausted in setting forth
the dubious merits of this reference work. The ethics and decencies of
ordinary honest commerce have been thrown to the wind. The statements
made day after day were apparently concocted irrespective of any
consideration save that of making a sale; for there is an abundance of
evidence to show that the Encyclopædia was not what was claimed for it.
With the true facts regarding this encyclopædia it is difficult to
reconcile the encomiums of many eminent Americans who, by writing
eulogistic letters to the _Britannica’s_ editor concerning the exalted
merits of his enterprise, revealed either their unfamiliarity with the
books in question or their ignorance of what constituted an educational
reference work. These letters were duly photographed and reproduced in
the advertisements, and they now make interesting, if disconcerting,
reading for the non-British student who put his faith in them and bought
the _Britannica_. There is no need here to quote from these letters;
for a subsequent inspection of the work thus recommended must have
sufficiently mortified those of the enthusiastic correspondents who were
educated and had consciences; and the others would be unmoved by any
revelations of mine.
Mention, however, should be made of the remarks of the American
Ambassador to Great Britain at the banquet given in London to celebrate
the Encyclopædia’s birth. This gentleman, in an amazing burst of
unrestrained laudation, said he believed that “it is the general judgment
of the scholars and the investigators of the world that the one book
to which they can go for the most complete, comprehensive, thorough,
and absolutely precise statements of fact upon every subject of human
interest is the _Encyclopædia Britannica_.” This is certainly an
astonishing bit of eulogy. Its dogmatic positiveness and its assumption
of infallibility caused one critic (who is also a great scholar) to
write: “With all due respect for our illustrious fellow-countryman,
the utterance is a most superlative absurdity, unless it was intended
to be an exercise of that playful and elusive American humor which the
apperceptions of our English cousins so often fail to seize, much less
appreciate.” But there were other remarks of similar looseness at the
banquet, and the dinner evidently was a greater success than the books
under discussion.
Even the English critics themselves could not accept the _Britannica_
as a source for “the most comprehensive, thorough and absolutely
precise statements on every subject of human interest.” Many legitimate
objections began appearing. There is space here to quote only a few. The
London _Nation_ complains that “the particularly interesting history
of the French Socialist movement is hardly even sketched.” And again
it says: “The naval question is handled on the basis of the assumption
which prevailed during our recent scare; the challenge of our Dreadnought
building is hardly mentioned; the menace of M. Delcassé’s policy of
encirclement is ignored, and both in the article on Germany and in
the articles on Europe, Mr. McKenna’s panic figures and charges of
accelerated building are treated as the last word of historical fact.”
The same publication, criticising the article on Europe, says: “There
is nothing but a dry and summarized general history, ending with a
paragraph or two on the Anglo-German struggle with the moral that ‘Might
is Right.’ It is history of Europe which denies the idea of Europe.”
Again, we find evidence of a more direct character, which competently
refutes the amazing announcement of our voluble Ambassador to Great
Britain. In a letter to the London _Times_, an indignant representative
of Thomas Carlyle’s family objects to the inaccurate and biased manner
in which Carlyle is treated in the Encyclopædia. “The article,” he says,
“was evidently written many years ago, before the comparatively recent
publication of new and authentic material, and nothing has been done to
bring it up to date.... As far as I know, none of the original errors
have been corrected, and many others of a worse nature have been added.
The list of authorities on Carlyle’s life affords evidence of ignorance
or partisanship.”
“Evidently,” comments a shrewd critic who is not impressed either by the
Ambassador’s panegyric or the photographed letters, “the great man’s
family, and the public in general, have a reasonable cause of offense,
and they may also conclude that if the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ can
blunder when handling such an approachable and easy British subject as
Carlyle, it can be reasonably expected to do worse on other matters
which are not only absolutely foreign, but intensely distasteful to the
uninformed and prejudiced scribes to whom they seem to be so frequently,
if not systematically, assigned.”
The expectation embodied in the above comment is more fully realized
perhaps than the writer of those words imagined; and the purpose of
this book is to reveal the blundering and misleading information which
would appear to be the distinguishing quality of the _Britannica’s_
articles on culture. Moreover, as I have said, and as I shall show
later, few subjects are as “intensely distasteful” to the “uninformed
and prejudiced” British critics as is American achievement. One finds
it difficult to understand how any body of foreigners would dare offer
America the brazen insult which is implied in the prodigal distribution
of these books throughout the country; for in their unconquerable
arrogance, their unveiled contempt for this nation—the outgrowth of
generations of assumed superiority—they surpass even the London critical
articles dealing with our contemporary literary efforts.
Several of our more courageous and pro-American scholars have called
attention to the inadequacies and insularities in the _Britannica_, but
their voices have not been sufficiently far-reaching to counteract
either the mass or the unsavory character of the advertising by which
this unworthy and anti-American encyclopædia was foisted upon the United
States. Conspicuous among those publications which protested was the
_Twentieth Century Magazine_. That periodical, to refer to but one of
its several criticisms, pointed out that the article on _Democracy_ is
“confined to the alleged democracies of Greece and their distinguished,
if some time dead, advocates. Walt Whitman, Mazzini, Abraham Lincoln,
Edward Carpenter, Lyof Tolstoi, Switzerland, New Zealand, Australia,
Finland, Iceland, Oregon are unknown quantities to this anonymous
classicist.”
It is also noted that the author of the articles on _Sociology_ “is
not very familiar with the American sociologists, still less with the
German, and not at all with the French.” The article is “a curious
evidence of editorial insulation,” and the one on _Economics_ “betrays
freshened British capitalistic insularity.” In this latter article,
which was substituted for Professor Ingram’s masterly and superb history
of political economy in the _Britannica’s_ Ninth Edition, “instead of
a catholic, scientific survey of economic thought, we have a ‘fair
trade’ pamphlet, which actually includes reference to Mr. Chamberlain,”
although the names of Henry George, Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, John A.
Hobson, and William Smart are omitted.
The Eleventh Edition, concludes the _Twentieth Century_, after recording
many other specimens of ignorance and inefficiency, “is not only insular;
it betrays its class-conscious limitation in being woefully defective in
that prophetic instinct which guided Robertson Smith in his choice of
contributors to the Ninth Edition, and the contributors themselves in
their treatment of rapidly changing subjects.” Robertson Smith, let it be
noted, stood for fairness, progressiveness, and modernity; whereas the
_Britannica’s_ present editor is inflexibly reactionary, provincial, and
unjust to an almost incredible degree.
The foregoing quotations are not isolated objections: there were others
of similar nature. And these few specimens are put down here merely
to show that there appeared sufficient evidence, both in England and
America, to establish the purely imaginary nature of the _Britannica’s_
claims of completeness and inerrancy, and to reveal the absurdity of
the American Ambassador’s amazing pronouncement. Had the sale of the
_Encyclopædia Britannica_ been confined to that nation whose culture it
so persistently and dogmatically glorifies at the expense of the culture
of other nations, its parochial egotism would not be America’s concern.
But since this reference work has become an American institution and
has forced its provincial mediocrity into over 100,000 American homes,
schools and offices, the astonishing truth concerning its insulting
ineptitude has become of vital importance to this country. Its menace to
American educational progress can no longer be ignored.
England’s cultural campaign in the United States during past decades
has been sufficiently insidious and pernicious to work havoc with our
creative effort, and to retard us in the growth of that self-confidence
and self-appreciation which alone make the highest achievement possible.
But never before has there been so concentrated and virulently inimical a
medium for British influence as the present edition of the _Encyclopædia
Britannica_. These books, taken in conjunction with the methods by which
they have been foisted upon us, constitute one of the most subtle and
malign dangers to our national enlightenment and development which it has
yet been our misfortune to possess; for they bid fair to remain, in large
measure, the source of America’s information for many years to come.
The regrettable part of England’s intellectual intrigues in the United
States is the subservient and docile acquiescence of Americans
themselves. Either they are impervious to England’s sneers and deaf to
her insults, or else their snobbery is stronger than their self-respect.
I have learned from Britishers themselves, during an extended residence
in London, that not a little of their contempt for Americans is due to
our inordinate capacity for taking insults. Year after year English
animus grows; and to-day it is the uncommon thing to find an English
publication which, in discussing the United States and its culture, does
not contain some affront to our intelligence.
It is quite true, as the English insist, that we are painfully ignorant
of Europe; but it must not be forgotten that the chief source of that
ignorance is England herself. And the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, if
accepted as authoritative, will go far toward emphasizing and extending
that ignorance. Furthermore, it will lessen even the meagre esteem in
which we now hold our own accomplishments and potentialities; for,
as the following pages will show, the _Britannica_ has persistently
discriminated against all American endeavor, not only in the brevity
of the articles and biographies relating to this country and in the
omissions of many of our leading artists and scientists, but in the
bibliographies as well. And it must be remembered that broad and
unprejudiced bibliographies are essential to any worthy encyclopædia:
they are the key to the entire tone of the work. The conspicuous
absence of many high American authorities, and the inclusion of
numerous reactionary and often dubious English authorities, sum up the
_Britannica’s_ attitude.
However, as I have said, America, if the principal, is not the only
country discriminated against. France has fallen a victim to the
Encyclopædia’s suburban patriotism, and scant justice is done her
true greatness. Russia, perhaps even more than France, is culturally
neglected; and modern Italy’s æsthetic achievements are given slight
consideration. Germany’s science and her older culture fare much better
at the hands of the _Britannica’s_ editors than do the efforts of several
other nations; but Germany, too, suffers from neglect in the field of
modern endeavor.
Even Ireland does not escape English prejudice. In fact, it can be only
on grounds of national, political, and personal animosity that one can
account for the grossly biased manner in which Ireland, her history
and her culture, is dealt with. To take but one example, regard the
_Britannica’s_ treatment of what has come to be known as the Irish
Literary Revival. Among those conspicuous, and in one or two instances
world-renowned, figures who do not receive biographies are J. M. Synge,
Lady Gregory, Lionel Johnson, Douglas Hyde, and William Larminie.
(Although Lionel Johnson’s name appears in the article on _English_
literature, it does not appear in the Index—a careless omission which, in
victimizing an Irishman and not an Englishman, is perfectly in keeping
with the deliberate omissions of the _Britannica_.)
Furthermore, there are many famous Irish writers whose names are not
so much as mentioned in the entire Encyclopædia—for instance, Standish
O’Grady, James H. Cousins, John Todhunter, Katherine Tynan, T. W.
Rolleston, Nora Hopper, Jane Barlow, Emily Lawless, “A. E.” (George W.
Russell), John Eglinton, Charles Kickam, Dora Sigerson Shorter, Shan
Bullock, and Seumas MacManus. Modern Irish literature is treated with a
brevity and an injustice which are nothing short of contemptible; and
what little there is concerning the new Irish renaissance is scattered
here and there in the articles on _English_ literature! Elsewhere I
have indicated other signs of petty anti-Irish bias, especially in the
niggardly and stupid treatment accorded George Moore.
Although such flagrant inadequacies in the case of European art would
form a sufficient basis for protest, the really serious grounds for our
indignation are those which have to do with the _Britannica’s_ neglect
of America. That is why I have laid such emphasis on this phase of the
Encyclopædia. It is absolutely necessary that this country throw off the
yoke of England’s intellectual despotism before it can have a free field
for an individual and national cultural evolution. America has already
accomplished much. She has contributed many great figures to the world’s
progress. And she is teeming with tremendous and splendid possibilities.
To-day she stands in need of no other nation’s paternal guidance. In
view of her great powers, of her fine intellectual strength, of her
wide imagination, of her already brilliant past, and of her boundless
and exalted future, such a work as the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ should
be resented by every American to whom the welfare of his country is of
foremost concern, and in whom there exists one atom of national pride.
II
THE NOVEL
Let us inspect first the manner in which the world’s great modern
novelists and story-tellers are treated in the _Encyclopædia Britannica_.
No better department could be selected for the purpose; for literature is
the most universal and popular art. The world’s great figures in fiction
are far more widely known than those in painting or music; and since it
is largely through literature that a nation absorbs its cultural ideas,
especial interest attaches to the way that writers are interpreted and
criticised in an encyclopædia.
It is disappointing, therefore, to discover the distorted and unjust
viewpoint of the _Britannica_. An aggressive insular spirit is shown in
both the general literary articles and in the biographies. The importance
of English writers is constantly exaggerated at the expense of foreign
authors. The number of biographies of British writers included in the
Encyclopædia far overweighs the biographical material accorded the
writers of other nations. And superlatives of the most sweeping kind are
commonly used in describing the genius of these British authors, whereas
in the majority of cases outside of England, criticism, when offered at
all, is cool and circumscribed and not seldom adverse. There are few
British writers of any note whatever who are not taken into account;
but many authors of very considerable importance belonging to France,
Germany, Italy, Russia, and the United States are omitted entirely.
In the Encyclopædia’s department of literature, as in other departments
of the arts, the pious middle-class culture of England is carefully and
consistently forced to the front. English provincialism and patriotism
not only dominate the criticism of this department, but dictate the
amount of space which is allotted the different nations. The result
is that one seeking in this encyclopædia adequate and unprejudiced
information concerning literature will fail completely in his quest.
No mention whatever is made of many of the world’s great novelists
(provided, of course, they do not happen to be British); and the
information given concerning the foreign authors who are included is, on
the whole, meagre and biased. If, as is natural, one should judge the
relative importance of the world’s novelists by the space devoted to
them, one could not escape the impression that the literary genius of
the world resides almost exclusively in British writers.
This prejudiced and disproportionate treatment of literature would not
be so regrettable if the _Britannica’s_ criticisms were cosmopolitan in
character, or if its standard of judgment was a purely literary one.
But the criteria of the Encyclopædia’s editors are, in the main, moral
and puritanical. Authors are judged not so much by their literary and
artistic merits as by their _bourgeois_ virtue, their respectability
and inoffensiveness. Consequently it is not even the truly great
writers of Great Britain who are recommended the most highly, but those
middle-class literary idols who teach moral lessons and whose purpose it
is to uplift mankind. The Presbyterian complex, so evident throughout
the Encyclopædia’s critiques, finds in literature a fertile field for
operation.
Because of the limitations of space, I shall confine myself in this
chapter to modern literature. I have, however, inspected the manner in
which the older literature is set forth in the _Encyclopædia Britannica_;
and there, as elsewhere, is discernible the same provincialism, the same
theological point of view, the same flamboyant exaggeration of English
writers, the same neglect of foreign genius. As a reference book the
_Britannica_ is chauvinistic, distorted, inadequate, disproportioned,
and woefully behind the times. Despite the fact that the Eleventh Edition
is supposed to have been brought up to date, few recent writers are
included, and those few are largely second-rate writers of Great Britain.
Let us first regard the gross discrepancies in space between the
biographies of English authors and those of the authors of other
nations. To begin with, the number of biographies of English writers
is nearly as many as is given all the writers of France and Germany
combined. Sir Walter Scott is given no less than thirteen columns,
whereas Balzac has only seven columns, Victor Hugo only a little over
four columns, and Turgueniev only a little over one column. Samuel
Richardson is given nearly four columns, whereas Flaubert has only two
columns, Dostoievsky less than two columns, and Daudet only a column
and a third! Mrs. Oliphant is given over a column, more space than is
allotted to Anatole France, Coppée, or the Goncourts. George Meredith is
given six columns, more space than is accorded Flaubert, de Maupassant
and Zola put together! Bulwer-Lytton has two columns, more space than
is given Dostoievsky. Dickens is given two and a half times as much
space as Victor Hugo; and George Eliot, Trollope, and Stevenson each has
considerably more space than de Maupassant, and nearly twice as much
space as Flaubert. Anthony Hope has almost an equal amount of space with
Turgueniev, nearly twice as much as Gorky, and more than William Dean
Howells. Kipling, Barrie, Mrs. Gaskell, Mrs. Humphry Ward, and Felicia
Hemans are each accorded more space than either Zola or Mark Twain....
Many more similar examples of injustice could be given, but enough
have been set down to indicate the manner in which British authors are
accorded an importance far beyond their deserts.
Of Jane Austen, to whom is given more space than to either Daudet or
Turgueniev, we read that “it is generally agreed by the best critics
that Miss Austen has never been approached in her own domain.” What, one
wonders, of Balzac’s stories of provincial life? Did he, after all, not
even approach Miss Austen? Mrs. Gaskell’s _Cranford_ “is unanimously
accepted as a classic”; and she is given an equal amount of space with
Dostoievsky and Flaubert!
George Eliot’s biography draws three and a half columns, twice as much
space as Stendhal’s, and half again as much as de Maupassant’s. In it
we encounter the following astonishing specimen of criticism: No right
estimate of her as an artist or a philosopher “can be formed without a
steady recollection of her infinite capacity for mental suffering, and
her need of human support.” Just what these conditions have to do with an
æsthetic or philosophic judgment of her is not made clear; but the critic
finally brings himself to add that “one has only to compare _Romola_ or
_Daniel Deronda_ with the compositions of any author except herself to
realize the greatness of her designs and the astonishing gifts brought to
their final accomplishment.”
The evangelical _motif_ enters more strongly in the biography of George
Macdonald, who draws about equal space with Gorky, Huysmans, and Barrès.
Here we learn that Macdonald’s “moral enthusiasm exercised great
influence upon thoughtful minds.” Ainsworth, the author of those shoddy
historical melodramas, _Jack Sheppard_ and _Guy Fawkes_, is also given a
biography equal in length to that of Gorky, Huysmans, and Barrès; and we
are told that he wrote tales which, despite all their shortcomings, were
“invariably instructive, clean and manly.” Mrs. Ewing, too, profited by
her pious proclivities, for her biography takes up almost as much space
as that of the “moral” Macdonald and the “manly” Ainsworth. Her stories
are “sound and wholesome in matter,” and besides, her best tales “have
never been surpassed in the style of literature to which they belong.”
Respectability and moral refinement were qualities also possessed by G.
P. R. James, whose biography is equal in length to that of William Dean
Howells. In it there is quite a long comparison of James with Dumas,
though it is frankly admitted that as an artist James was inferior. His
plots were poor, his descriptions were weak, and his dialogue was bad.
Therefore “his very best books fall far below _Les Trois Mousquetaires_.”
But, it is added, “James never resorted to illegitimate methods to
attract readers, and deserves such credit as may be due to a purveyor of
amusement who never caters to the less creditable tastes of his guests.”
In other words, say what you will about James’s technique, he was, at any
rate, an upright and impeccable gentleman!
Even Mrs. Sarah Norton’s lofty moral nature is rewarded with biographical
space greater than that of Huysmans or Gorky. Mrs. Norton, we learn, “was
not a mere writer of elegant trifles, but was one of the priestesses
of the ‘reforming’ spirit.” One of her books was “a most eloquent and
rousing condemnation of child labor”; and her poems were “written with
charming tenderness and grace.” Great, indeed, are the rewards of
virtue, if not in life, at least in the _Encyclopædia Britannica_.
On the other hand, several English authors are condemned for their
lack of nicety and respectability. Trollope, for instance, lacked that
elegance and delicacy of sentiment so dear to the Encyclopædia editor’s
heart. “He is,” we read, “sometimes absolutely vulgar—that is to say, he
does not deal with low life, but shows, though always robust and pure in
morality, a certain coarseness of taste.”
Turning from the vulgar but pure Trollope to Charles Reade, we find more
of this same kind of criticism: “His view of human life, especially of
the life of women, is almost brutal ... and he cannot, with all his skill
as a story-teller, be numbered among the great artists who warm the heart
and help to improve the conduct.” (Here we have the _Britannica’s_ true
attitude toward literature. That art, in order to be great, must warm
the heart, improve the conduct, and show one the way to righteousness.)
Nor is Ouida to be numbered among the great uplifters. In her derogatory
half-column biography we are informed that “on grounds of morality
of taste Ouida’s novels may be condemned” as they are “frequently
unwholesome.”
Two typical examples of the manner in which truly great English writers,
representative of the best English culture, are neglected in favor of
those writers who epitomize England’s provincial piety, are to be found
in the biographies of George Moore and Joseph Conrad, neither of whom
is concerned with improving the readers’ conduct or even with warming
their hearts. These two novelists, the greatest modern authors which
England has produced, are dismissed peremptorily. Conrad’s biography
draws but eighteen lines, about one-third of the space given to Marie
Corelli; and the only praise accorded him is for his vigorous style and
brilliant descriptions. In this superficial criticism we have an example
of ineptitude, if not of downright stupidity, rarely equaled even by
newspaper reviewers. Not half of Conrad’s books are mentioned, the last
one to be recorded being dated 1906, nearly eleven years ago! Yet this is
the Encyclopædia which is supposed to have been brought up to date and to
be adequate for purposes of reference!
In the case of George Moore there is less excuse for such gross injustice
(save that he is Irish), for Moore has long been recognized as one of
the great moderns. Yet his biography draws less space than that of Jane
Porter, Gilbert Parker, Maurice Hewlett, Rider Haggard, or H. G. Wells;
half of the space given to Anthony Hope; and only a fourth of the space
given to Mrs. Gaskell and to Mrs. Humphry Ward! _A Mummer’s Wife_, we
learn, has “decidedly repulsive elements”; and the entire criticism
of _Esther Waters_, admittedly one of the greatest of modern English
novels, is that it is “a strong story with an anti-gambling motive.” It
would seem almost incredible that even the tin-pot evangelism of the
_Encyclopædia Britannica_ would be stretched to such a length,—but there
you have the criticism of _Esther Waters_ set down word for word. The
impelling art of this novel means nothing to the Encyclopedia’s critic;
he cannot see the book’s significance; nor does he recognize its admitted
importance to modern literature. To him it is an anti-gambling tract! And
because, perhaps, he can find no uplift theme in _A Mummer’s Wife_, that
book is repulsive to him. Such is the culture America is being fed on—at
a price.
Thomas Hardy, another one of England’s important moderns, is condemned
for his attitude toward women: his is a “man’s point of view” and “more
French than English.” (We wonder if this accounts for the fact that the
sentimental James M. Barrie is accorded more space and greater praise.)
Samuel Butler is another intellectual English writer who has apparently
been sacrificed on the altar of Presbyterian respectability. He is
given less than a column, a little more than half the space given the
patriotic, tub-thumping Kipling, and less than half the space given
Felicia Hemans. Nor is there any criticism of his work. _The Way of all
Flesh_ is merely mentioned in the list of his books. Gissing, another
highly enlightened English writer, is accorded less space than Jane
Porter, only about half the space given Anthony Hope, and less space than
is drawn by Marie Corelli! There is almost no criticism of his work—a
mere record of facts.
Mrs. M. E. Braddon, however, author of _The Trail of the Serpent_ and
_Lady Audley’s Secret_, is criticised in flattering terms. The biography
speaks of her “large and appreciative public,” and apology is made for
her by the statement that her works give “the great body of readers of
fiction exactly what they require.” But why an apology is necessary one
is unable to say since _Aurora Floyd_ is “a novel with a strong affinity
to _Madame Bovary_.” Mrs. Braddon and Flaubert! Truly a staggering
alliance!
Mrs. Henry Wood, the author of _East Lynne_, is given more space than
Conrad; and her _Johnny Ludlow_ tales are “the most artistic” of her
works. But the “artistic” Mrs. Wood has no preference over Julia
Kavanagh. This latter lady, we discover, draws equal space with Marcel
Prévost; and she “handles her French themes with fidelity and skill.”
Judging from this praise and the fact that Prévost gets no praise but is
accused of having written an “exaggerated” and “revolting” book, we can
only conclude that the English authoress handles her French themes better
than does Prévost.
George Meredith is accorded almost as much biographical space as Balzac;
and in the article there appears such qualifying words as “seer,”
“greatness,” and “master.” The impression given is that he was greater
than Balzac. In Jane Porter’s biography, which is longer than that of
Huysmans, we read of her “picturesque power of narration.” Even of
Samuel Warren, to whom three-fourths of a column is allotted (more space
than is given to Bret Harte, Lafcadio Hearn, or Gorky), it is said that
the interest in _Ten Thousand a Year_ “is made to run with a powerful
current.”
Power also is discovered in the works of Lucas Malet. _The Wages of Sin_
was “a powerful story” which “attracted great attention”; and her next
book “had an even greater success.” Joseph Henry Shorthouse, who is given
more space than Frank Norris and Stephen Crane combined, possessed “high
earnestness of purpose, a luxuriant style and a genuinely spiritual
quality.” Though lacking dramatic facility and a workmanlike conduct of
narrative, “he had almost every other quality of the born novelist.”
After this remark it is obviously necessary to revise our æsthetic
judgment in regard to the religious author of _John Inglesant_.
Grant Allen, alas! lacked the benevolent qualities of the “spiritual”
Mr. Shorthouse, and—as a result, no doubt—he is given less space, and
his work and vogue are spoken of disparagingly. One of his books was
a _succès de scandale_ “on account of its treatment of the sexual
problem.” Mr. Allen apparently neither “warmed the heart” nor “improved
the conduct” of his audience. On the other hand, Mrs. Oliphant, in a
long biography, is praised for her “sympathetic touch”; and we learn
furthermore that she was long and “honorably” connected with the firm
of Blackwood. Maurice Hewlett has nearly a half-column biography full
of praise. Conan Doyle, also, is spoken of highly. Kipling’s biography,
longer than Mark Twain’s, Bourget’s, Daudet’s, or Gogol’s, also contains
praise. In H. G. Wells’s biography, which is longer than that of George
Moore, “his very high place” as a novelist is spoken of; and Anthony
Hope draws abundant praise in a biography almost as long as that of
Turgueniev!
In the treatment of Mrs. Humphry Ward, however, we have the key to the
literary attitude of the Encyclopædia. Here is an author who epitomizes
that middle-class respectability which forms the _Britannica’s_ editors’
standard of artistic judgment, and who represents that virtuous suburban
culture which colors the Encyclopædia’s art departments. It is not
surprising therefore that, of all recent novelists, she should be given
the place of honor. Her biography extends to a column and two-thirds,
much longer than the biography of Turgueniev, Zola, Daudet, Mark Twain,
or Henry James; and over twice the length of William Dean Howells’s
biography. Even more space is devoted to her than is given to the
biography of Poe!