modern Italian poetry by the _Britannica_. There is not even so much
as a mention in the entire twenty-nine volumes of the names of Alinda
Bonacchi, the most widely known woman poet in Italy; Capuano, who,
besides being a notable poet, is also a novelist, dramatist and critic
of distinction; Funcini (Tanfucio Neri), a household word in Tuscany
and one held in high esteem all over Italy; “Countess Lara” (Eveline
Cattermole), whose _Versi_ gave her a foremost place among the poets of
her day; Pitteri, who was famous as long ago as 1890; and Nencioni, not
only a fine poet but one of Italy’s great critics. Nencioni has earned
the reputation of being the Sainte-Beuve of Italy, and it was he who
introduced Browning, Tennyson and Swinburne to his countrymen. Then there
are such poets as Fontana, Bicci and Arnaboldi, who should at least be
mentioned in connection with modern Italian literature, but whose names
do not appear in “this complete library of information.”
But France, Belgium, and Italy, nevertheless, have great cause for
feeling honored when comparison is made between the way the _Encyclopædia
Britannica_ deals with their modern poetry and the way it deals with
modern German and Austrian poetry. Of all the important recent lyricists
of Germany and Austria _only one_ is given a biography, and that
biography is so brief and inadequate as to be practically worthless
for purposes of enlightenment. The one favored poet is Detlev von
Liliencron. Liliencron is perhaps the most commanding lyrical figure in
all recent German literature, and he receives just twenty-seven lines,
or about one-fifth of the space given to Austin Dobson! But there are no
biographies of Richard Dehmel, Carl Busse, Stefan George, J. H. Mackay,
Rainer Maria Rilke, Gustav Falke, Ernst von Wolzogen, Karl Henckell,
Dörmann, Otto Julius Bierbaum, and Hugo von Hofmannsthal.
There can be no excuse for many of these omissions. Several of these
names are of international eminence. Their works have not been confined
to Germany, but have appeared in English translation. They stand in the
foremost rank of modern literature, and both in England and America there
are critical books which accord them extensive consideration. Without
a knowledge of them no one—not even a Britisher—can lay claim to an
understanding of modern letters. Yet the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ denies
them space and still poses as an adequate reference work.
One may hope to find some adequate treatment of the German lyric to
recent years with its “remarkable variety of new tones and pregnant
ideas,” in the article on _German Literature_. But that hope will
straightway be blasted when one turns to the article in question. The
entire new renaissance in German poetry is dismissed in a brief paragraph
of thirty-one lines! It would have been better to omit it altogether,
for such a cursory and inadequate survey of a significant subject can
result only in disseminating a most unjust and distorted impression. And
the bibliography at the end of this article on modern German literature
reveals nothing so much as the lack of knowledge on the part of the
critic who compiled it. Not only is the _Britannica_ deficient in its
information, but it does not reveal the best sources from which this
omitted information might be gained.
An even more absurdly inadequate treatment is accorded the poets of
modern Sweden. Despite the fact that Swedish literature is little
known to Americans, the poetry of that country ranks very high—higher
(according to some eminent critics) than the poetry of France or Germany.
But the _Britannica_ makes no effort to disturb our ignorance; and so
the great lyric poetry of Sweden since 1870 is barely touched upon.
However, Mr. Edmund Gosse, a copious contributor to the Encyclopædia,
has let the cat out of the bag. In one of his books he has pronounced
Fröding, Levertin and Heidenstam “three very great lyrical artists,” and
has called Snoilsky a poet of “unquestioned force and fire.” Turning to
the _Britannica_ we find that Snoilsky is dismissed with half the space
given Sydney Dobell and a third of the space given Patmore. Levertin
receives only a third of a column; and Fröding is denied any biography
whatever. He is thrown in with a batch of minor writers under _Sweden_.
Heidenstam, the new Nobel prize-winner, a poet who, according to Charles
Wharton Stork, “stands head and shoulders above any now writing in
England,” receives only eight lines in the general notice! And Karlfeldt,
another important lyrist, who is the Secretary of the Swedish Academy,
is considered unworthy of even a word in the “supreme” _Encyclopædia
Britannica_.
It would seem that unfair and scant treatment of a country’s poetry could
go no further. But if you will seek for information concerning American
poetry you will find a deficiency which is even greater than that which
marks the treatment of modern Swedish poetry.
Here again it might be in place to call attention to the hyperbolical
claims on which the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ has been sold in America.
In the flamboyant and unsubstantiable advertising of this reference
work you will no doubt recall the claim: “It will tell you more about
everything than you can get from any other source.” And perhaps you will
also remember the statement: “The _Britannica_ is a complete _library_
of knowledge on every subject appealing to intelligent persons.” It may
be, of course, that the editors believe that the subject of American
literature does not, or at least should not, appeal to any but ignorant
persons, and that, in fact, only middle-class English culture can
possibly interest the intelligent. But unless such a belief can be proved
to be correct, the American buyers of this Encyclopædia have a grave and
legitimate complaint against the editors for the manner in which the
books were foisted upon them. The _Encyclopædia Britannica_, as I have
pointed out, is _not_ a complete library of knowledge on the subject
of literature; and in the following pages I shall show that its gross
inadequacy extends to many other very important fields of endeavor.
Moreover, its incompleteness is most glaringly obvious in the field of
American æsthetic effort—a field which, under the circumstances, should
be the last to be neglected.
On the subject of American poetry it is deficient almost to the extreme
of worthlessness. In the article, _American Literature_, written by
George E. Woodberry, we discover that truly British spirit and viewpoint
which regards nothing as worth while unless it is old or eminently
respectable and accepted. The result is that, in the paragraph on our
poetry, such men as Aldrich, Stedman, Richard Watson Gilder, Julia Ward
Howe, H. H. Brownell and Henry Van Dyke are mentioned; but very few
others. As a supreme surrender to modernity the names of Walt Whitman,
Eugene Field, James Whitcomb Riley and Joaquin Miller are included. The
great wealth of American poetry, which is second only to that of England,
is not even suggested.
Turning to the biography of Edgar Allan Poe, we find that this writer
receives only a column and a half, less space than is given Austin
Dobson, Coventry Patmore, or W. E. Henley! And the biography itself
is so inept that it is an affront to American taste and an insult to
American intelligence. One is immediately interested in learning what
critic the Encyclopædia’s editors chose to represent this American who
has long since become a world figure in literature. Turning to the index
we discover that one David Hannay is the authority—a gentleman who was
formerly the British Vice-Consul at Barcelona. Mr. Hannay (apparently
he holds no academic degree of any kind) lays claim to fame chiefly, it
seems, as the author of _Short History of the Royal Navy_; but in just
what way his research in naval matters qualifies him to write on Poe is
not indicated. This is not, however, the only intimation we had that
in the minds of the Encyclopædia’s editors there exists some esoteric
and recondite relationship between art and British sea-power. In the
_Britannica’s_ criticism of J. M. W. Turner’s paintings, that artist’s
work is said to be “like the British fleet among the navies of the
world.” In the present instance, however, we can only trust that the
other articles in this encyclopædia, by Mr. Hannay—to-wit: _Admiral Penn_
and _Pirate and Piracy_—are more competent than his critique on Poe.
Walt Whitman gets scarcely better treatment. His biography is no longer
than Poe’s and contains little criticism and no suggestion of his true
place in American letters. This is all the more astonishing when we
recall the high tribute paid Whitman by eminent English critics. Surely
the _Britannica’s_ editors are not ignorant of Whitman’s place in
modern letters or of the generous manner in which he had been received
abroad. Whatever one’s opinion of him, he was a towering figure in our
literature—a pioneer who had more influence on our later writers than any
other American. And yet his biography in this great British cultural work
is shorter than that of Mrs. Humphry Ward!
With such obviously inadequate and contemptuous treatment as that
accorded Poe and Whitman, it is not surprising that all other American
poets should be treated peremptorily or neglected entirely. There are
very short biographical notes on Stedman, Louise Chandler Moulton, Sill,
Gilder, Eugene Field, Sidney Lanier and Riley—but they are scant records
of facts and most insufficient when compared to the biographies of
second-rate poets of England.
But let us be grateful that the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ was generous
enough to record them at all; for one can look in vain through its
entire twenty-nine volumes, no matter under what heading, for even a
mention of Emily Dickinson, John Bannister Tabb, Florence Earle Coates,
Edwin Markham, Lizette Woodworth Reese, Clinton Scollard, Louise Imogen
Guiney, Richard Hovey, Madison Cawein, Edwin Arlington Robinson, George
Sylvester Viereck, Ridgeley Torrence, Arthur Upson, Santayana, and many
others who hold an important place in our literature. And the names of
William Vaughn Moody, Percy MacKaye and Bliss Carman are merely mentioned
casually, the first two under _Drama_ and the last under _Canadian
Literature_.
The palpable injustice in the complete omission of many of the above
American names is rendered all the more glaring by the fact that the
_Encyclopædia Britannica_ pays high tribute to such minor British poets
and versifiers as W. H. Davies, Sturge Moore, Locker Lampson, C. M.
Doughty, Walter de la Mare, Alfred Noyes, Herbert Trench, Ernest Dowson,
Mrs. Meynell, A. E. Housman and Owen Seaman.
This is the culture disseminated by the _Encyclopædia Britannica_,
which “is a complete _library_ of knowledge on every subject appealing
to intelligent persons,” and which “will tell you more about everything
than you can get from any other source!” This is the “supreme book of
knowledge” which Americans are asked to buy in preference to all others.
What pettier insult could one nation offer to another?
V
BRITISH PAINTING
If one hopes to find in the Eleventh Edition of the _Encyclopædia
Britannica_ an unprejudiced critical and biographical survey of the
world’s painters, he will be sorely disappointed. Not only is the
Encyclopædia not comprehensive and up-to-date, but the manner in which
British art and artists are constantly forced to the front rank is so
grossly biased that a false impression of æsthetic history and art
values is almost an inevitable result, unless one is already equipped
with a wide understanding of the subject. If one were to form an opinion
of art on the _Britannica’s_ articles, the opinion would be that
English painting leads the modern world in both amount and quality.
The Encyclopædia raises English academicians to the ranks of exalted
greatness, and at the same time tends to tear down the pedestals whereon
rest the truly towering geniuses of alien nationality.
So consistently does British _bourgeois_ prejudice and complacency
characterize the material on painting contained in this Encyclopædia,
that any attempt to get from it an æsthetic point of view which would be
judicious and universal, would fail utterly. Certain French, German, and
American artists of admitted importance are considered unworthy of space,
or, if indeed deserving of mention, are unworthy of the amount of space,
or the praise, which is conferred on a large number of lesser English
painters. Both by implication and direct statement the editors have
belittled the æsthetic endeavor of foreign nations, and have exaggerated,
to an almost unbelievable degree, the art of their own country. The
manner in which the subject of painting is dealt with reveals the
full-blown flower of British insularity, and apotheosizes the narrow,
aggressive culture of British middle-class respectability. In the world’s
art from 1700 on, comparatively little merit is recognized beyond the
English Channel.
The number of English painters whose biographies appear in the
_Britannica_ would, I believe, astonish even certain English art critics;
and the large amount of space devoted to them—even to inconsequent and
obscure academicians—when compared with the brief notices given to
greater painters of other nations, leaves the un-British searcher with a
feeling of bewilderment. But not only with the large number of English
painters mentioned or even with the obviously disproportionate amount of
space devoted to them does the Encyclopædia’s chauvinistic campaign for
England’s æsthetic supremacy cease. The criticisms which accompany these
biographies are as a rule generously favorable; and, in many cases, the
praise reaches a degree of extravagance which borders on the absurd.
Did this optimism of outlook, this hot desire to ferret out greatness
where only mediocrity exists, this ambition to drag the obscure and
inept into the glare of prominence, extend to all painters, regardless
of nationality, one might forgive the superlative eulogies heaped upon
British art, and attribute them to that mellow spirit of sentimental
tolerance which sees good in everything. But, alas! such impartiality
does not exist. It would seem that the moment the biographers of the
_Britannica_ put foot on foreign ground, their spirit of generosity
deserts them. And if space is any indication of importance, it must
be noted that English painters are, in the editors’ estimation, of
considerably more importance than painters from abroad.
Of William Etty, to whom three-fourths of a page is devoted, we are
told that “in feeling and skill as a colorist he has few equals.” The
implication here that Etty, as a colorist, has never been surpassed
scarcely needs refutation. It is unfortunate, however, that Mr. Etty
is not with us at present to read this exorbitant testimony to his
greatness, for it would astonish him, no doubt, as much as it would
those other few unnamed painters who are regarded as his equals in color
_sensibilité_. J. S. Cotman, we discover, was “a remarkable painter both
in oil and water-color.” This criticism is characteristic, for, even when
there are no specific qualities to praise in an English painter’s work,
we find this type of vague recommendation.
No points, though, it would seem, are overlooked. Regard the manner in
which J. D. Harding’s questionable gifts are recorded. “Harding,” you
will find, “was noted for facility, sureness of hand, nicety of touch,
and the various qualities which go to make up an elegant, highly-trained
and accomplished sketcher from nature, and composer of picturesque
landscape material; he was particularly skillful in the treatment of
foliage.” Turning from Mr. Harding, the “elegant” and “accomplished”
depicter of foliage, to Birket Foster, we find that his work “is
memorable for its delicacy and minute finish, and for its daintiness and
pleasantness of sentiment.” Dainty and pleasant sentiment is not without
weight with the art critics of this encyclopædia. In one form or another
it is mentioned very often in connection with British painters.
Landseer offers an excellent example of the middle-class attitude which
the _Britannica_ takes toward art. To judge from the page-and-a-half
biography of this indifferent portraitist of animals one would imagine
that Landseer was a great painter, for we are told that his _Fighting
Dogs Getting Wind_ is “perfectly drawn, solidly and minutely finished,
and carefully composed.” Of what possible educational value is an art
article which would thus criticise a Landseer picture?
An English painter who, were we to accept the Encyclopædia’s valuation,
combines the qualities of several great painters is Charles Holroyd.
“In all his work,” we learn, “Holroyd displays an impressive sincerity,
with a fine sense of composition, and of style, allied to independent
and modern thinking.” Truly a giant! It would be difficult to recall any
other painter in history “all” of whose work displayed a “fine sense
of composition.” Not even could this be said of Michelangelo. But when
it comes to composition, Arthur Melville apparently soars above his
fellows. Besides, “several striking portraits in oil,” he did a picture
called _The Return From the Crucifixion_, which, so we are told, is a
“powerful, colossal composition.” To have achieved only a “powerful”
composition should have been a sufficiently remarkable feat for a painter
of Mr. Melville’s standing; for only of a very few masters in the world’s
history can it be said that their compositions were both powerful and
colossal. El Greco, Giotto, Giorgione, Veronese, Titian, Michelangelo and
Rubens rarely soared to such heights.
But Melville, it appears, had a contemporary who, if anything, was
greater than he—to-wit: W. Q. Orchardson, to whose glories nearly a page
is devoted. “By the time he was twenty,” says his biographer, “Orchardson
had mastered the essentials of his art.” In short, at twenty he had
accomplished what few painters accomplished in a lifetime. A truly
staggering feat! We are not therefore surprised to learn that “as a
portrait painter Orchardson must be placed in the first class.” Does this
not imply that he ranked with Titian, Velazquez, Rubens and Rembrandt?
What sort of an idea of the relative values in art will the uninformed
person get from such loose and ill-considered rhetoric, especially
when the critic goes on to say that _Master Baby_ is “a masterpiece
of design, color and broad execution”? There is much more eulogy of a
similar careless variety, but enough has been quoted here to show that
the world must entirely revise its opinions of art if the _Encyclopædia
Britannica’s_ statements are to be accepted.
Even the pictures of Paul Wilson Steer are criticised favorably: “His
figure subjects and landscapes show great originality and technical
skill.” And John Pettie was “in his best days a colorist of a high
order and a brilliant executant.” George Reid, the Scottish artist,
is accorded over half a column with detailed criticism and praise.
Frederick Walker is given no less than an entire column which ends with a
paragraph of fulsome eulogy. Even E. A. Waterlow painted landscapes which
were “admirable” and “handled with grace and distinction”—more gaudy
generalizations. When the Encyclopædia’s critics can find no specific
point to praise in the work of their countrymen, grace, distinction,
elegance and sentiment are turned into æsthetic virtues.
Turning to Hogarth, we find no less than three and one-half pages devoted
to him, more space than is given to Rubens’s biography, and three times
the space accorded Veronese! It was once thought that Hogarth was only
an “ingenious humorist,” but “time has reversed that unjust sentence.”
We then read that Hogarth’s composition leaves “little or nothing to
be desired.” If such were the case, he would unquestionably rank with
Rubens, Michelangelo and Titian; for, if indeed his composition leaves
little or nothing to be desired, he is as great as, or even greater than,
the masters of all time. But even with this eulogy the Encyclopædia’s
critic does not rest content. As a humorist and a satirist upon canvas,
“he has never been equalled.” If we regard Hogarth as an “author” rather
than artist, “his place is with the great masters of literature—with the
Thackerays and Fieldings, the Cervantes and Molières.” (Note that of
these four “great masters” two are English.)
Mastery in one form or another, if the _Britannica_ is to be believed,
was common among English painters. The pictures of Richard Wilson are
“skilled and learned compositions ... the work of a painter who was
thoroughly master of his materials.” In this latter respect Mr. Wilson
perhaps stands alone among the painters of the world; and yet, through
some conspiracy of silence no doubt, the leading critics of other nations
rarely mention him when speaking of those artists who thoroughly mastered
their materials. In regard to Raeburn, the Encyclopædia is less fulsome,
despite the fact that over a page is allotted him. We are distinctly
given to understand that he had his faults. Velazquez, however,
constantly reminded Wilkie of Raeburn; yet, after all, Raeburn was not
quite so great as Velazquez. This is frankly admitted.
It was left to Reynolds to equal if not to surpass Velazquez as well as
Rubens and Rembrandt. In a two-page glorification of this English painter
we come upon the following panegyric: “There can be no question of
placing him by the side of the greatest Venetians or of the triumvirate
of the seventeenth century, Rubens, Rembrandt, Velazquez.” If by placing
him beside these giants is meant that he in any wise approached their
stature, there can be, and has been, outside of England, a very great
question of putting him in such company. In fact, his right to such a
place has been very definitely denied him. But the unprejudiced opinion
of the world matters not to the patriots who edited the _Encyclopædia
Britannica_. That “supreme” English reference work goes on to say that in
portraits, such as _Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse_, Reynolds “holds the
field.... No portrait painter has been more happy in his poses for single
figures.” Then, as if such enthusiasm were not enough, we are told that
“nature had singled out Sir Joshua to endow him with certain gifts in
which he has hardly an equal.”
Nature, it seems, in her singling out process, was particularly partial
to Englishmen, for among those other painters who just barely equalled
Reynolds’s transcendent genius was Gainsborough. Says the _Britannica_:
“Gainsborough and Reynolds rank side by side.... It is difficult to say
which stands the higher of the two.” Consequently hereafter we must
place Gainsborough, too, along with Michelangelo, Rubens, Rembrandt and
Velazquez! Such a complete revision of æsthetic judgment will, no doubt,
be difficult at first, but, by living with the _Encyclopædia Britannica_
and absorbing its British culture, we may in time be able to bracket
Michelangelo, Reynolds, Rubens, Gainsborough, Rembrandt, Hogarth and
Velazquez without the slightest hesitation.
It is difficult to conceive how, in an encyclopædia with lofty
educational pretences, extravagance of statement could attain so high a
point as that reached in the biographies of Reynolds and Gainsborough.
So obviously indefensible are these valuations that I would hesitate to
accuse the _Britannica’s_ editors of deliberate falsification—that is, of
purposely distorting æsthetic values for the benefit of English artists.
Their total lack of discretion indicates an honest, if blind, belief in
British æsthetic supremacy. But this fact does not lessen the danger of
such judgments to the American public. As a nation we are ignorant of
painting and therefore are apt to accept statements of this kind which
have the impact of seeming authority behind them.
The same insular and extravagant point of view is discoverable in the
article on Turner. To this painter nearly five pages are devoted—a space
out of all proportion to the biographies of the other painters of the
world. Titian has only three and one-half pages; Rubens has only a little
over three pages; and El Greco has less than two-thirds of a page! Of
course, it is not altogether fair to base a judgment on space alone; but
such startling discrepancies are the rule and not the exception.