It was, if memory may be relied upon, Aristotle who initiated the Greeks
into the delights of classification, analysis and definition. Since
then, the love of pasting names on things has become so universal that
it may almost be classed as an instinct. The ordinary man, in the
presence of a new mountain, river, brook, hill, tree, flower, house,
automobile, puppy or kitten infallibly asks himself: “What shall I call
it?” And having labelled and catalogued his new discovery or
acquisition, he is content.
There would appear to be some need of more accurate classification and
definition in the field of prose fiction. The word “novel” has come to
be as capacious as an omnibus. A story of twenty thousand words is
labelled “novelette” in a magazine; then makes its bow between boards as
a full-fledged novel. This same confusion extends in the other
direction; and it is not infrequent to see stories of twenty thousand
words and upward called “short stories.” A manuscript which is a short
story in one magazine is a novelette in another, and a novel later on.
This confusion has no doubt arisen from the custom, fairly general among
the book-buying public, of preferring a “thick” book. Print a short
story in large type, with wide margins, and call it a novel; thus is the
demand for bulk most easily satisfied.