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第85章

the days of my life-第85章

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In romance all this is different; the lines between which he must move are by parison extremely narrow: as I remember; Besant put it admirably when answering some onslaught on myself in connection with “Montezuma’s Daughter”: “There is but one bag of tricks in romance。”
The love interest; at least among the English…speaking peoples; must be limited and restrained in tone; must follow the accepted lines of thought and what is defined as morality。 Indeed it may even be omitted; sometimes with advantage。 The really needful things are adventure — how impossible it matters not at all; provided it is made to appear possible — and imagination; together with a clever use of coincidence and an ordered development of the plot; which should; if possible; have a happy ending; since few folk like to be saddened by what they read。 If they seek melancholy; it can be found in ample measure in real life or in the daily papers。 Still; the rule of the happy ending is one that may be broken at times; at least I have dared to do so on some occasions; and notably in the instance of “Eric Brighteyes。” I remember that Charles Longman remonstrated with me on this matter at the time; but I showed him that the story demanded it — that; although I too wept over the evil necessity; it must be so!
Now adventure in this narrow world of ours is a limited quantity; and imagination; after all; is hemmed in by deductions from experience。 When we try to travel beyond these the results bee so unfamiliar that they are apt to lack interest to the ordinary mind。 I think I am right in saying that no one has ever written a really first…class romance dwelling solely; for example; upon the utterly alien life of another world or pla with which human beings cannot possibly have any touch。 Homer and others bring such supernormal life into the circle of our own surroundings and vivify it by contact; or by contrast; with the play of human nature as exemplified in their characters。 But it will not stand alone。 We are not strong and skilled enough to carve out of quite unknown material figures so life…like that even in a dreaming hour they can pass as real。 I repeat; therefore; that the lines which close in the kingdom of romance are very narrow; and that the material which must be used is so much handled that nowadays it has bee difficult to fashion from it any shape that is novel enough; or sufficiently striking to catch the attention of the world。
What is there that has not been used? Who; to take a single instance; can hope to repeat the effect of Robinson Crusoe on his desert island; or the thrill of that naked footprint in the sand? Defoe exhausted these long ago; everything of the sort that follows must be a mere pastiche。
To pass over other salient and familiar examples; I may with humility remark that even a second “She” would offer difficulties to her originator。 In my own day some have been tried; and proved very ephemeral creations。 The stock of such ideas; in short; is being rapidly used up。 There are only a certain number of pieces of glass in the kaleidoscope; and the total of the patterns that these can form is; after all; but limited。 With all the world explored and exhausted; I feel sorry for the romance writers of the future; for I know not whither they will turn without bringing themselves into petition with the efforts of dead but still remembered hands and exposing themselves to the sneers of the hunters…out of “plagiarisms。”
History remains to them; it is true; but that ground has already been well tilled。 Also historical romances seem at present to be losing their hold; perhaps because the reader of today fears lest he should be acquiring some useful information against his will。 The holiday task; or reminiscences of it; looms largely in his mind。 Still; new avenues may open to those unborn scribes of which at present we can catch no glimpse。 In a day to e there may even be romances of microbes which will fix the attention and engage the imaginative faculties of dim and distant generations。
Now as to the method of romance…writing。 It should; in my judgment; be swift; clear; and direct; with as little padding and as few trappings as possible。 The story is the thing; and every word in the book should be a brick to build its edifice。 Above all; no obscurity should be allowed。 Let the characters be definite; even at the cost of a little crudeness; and so with the meaning of each sentence。 Tricks of “style” and dark allusions may please the superior critic; they do not please the average reader; and — though this seems to be a fact that many forget; or only remember to deplore — a book is written that it may be read。 The first duty of a story is to keep him who peruses it awake; if he is a tired man and it succeeds in doing this; then; within its limitations; it is a good tale。 For instance; when a year or so ago Mr。 Kipling; who as a rule goes to bed early; told me that he had sat up to I know not what hour and got chilled through reading “The Ghost Kings” because he could not lay it down; it gave me a higher opinion of that work than I could boast before。 In romance “grip” is almost everything。 Whatever its faults; if a book has grip; these may be forgiven。
Again; such work should be written rapidly and; if possible; not rewritten; since wine of this character loses its bouquet when it is poured from glass to glass。 It should be remembered; also; that the writer of a romance must; so far as it is concerned; live during its progress in an atmosphere quite alien to that of everyday life。 Now this in a workaday world is not easy to grown people; who perhaps have many affairs and anxieties to distract them; even if they possess or have acquired the power of dividing their brains into more or less watertight partments。 Indeed; for longer than a certain period it bees almost impossible。 Therefore; as the quality of the resulting story will depend upon the preservation of this atmosphere of romance while it is being evolved; it is highly desirable that the actual period of evolution should be short。 Personally I have proved this; again and again; almost to the extent that; in the case of my own books; I can judge how long they have taken to ay long have forgotten the amount of time I spent on each。
So it es to this: the way to write a good romance is to sit down and write it almost without stopping。 Of course some preliminary reflection is desirable to realise a central idea round which the story must revolve。 For example; in “She” that central idea was a ortality; but who found that her passions remained immortal too。 In “The Holy Flower;” which I finished yesterday; to take another case; the central idea is that of a gorilla which is worshipped as a god and periodically slays the king who holds his office as the brute’s priest and servant; with all the terrors that result from such a situation。 In the case of both these books; as of many others; I had nothing more in my mind when I set myself to face them。 Of course in such circumstances beginnings are hard — c’est le premier pas qui coute — but after the thing will generally evolve itself。 It is merely a case of what Anthony Trollope used to call “cobbler’s wax。” Or; if it “will not do so;” the author had better give up romance…writing and take up some useful occupation that is more congenial。
Of course these are only my views; but they are based upon an experience that is now painfully extended。 Other men may have other and better methods so far as they are concerned。 They presuppose; however; that the writer is to a sufficient degree possessed by the Spirit of Romance; without which he will do nothing of any permanent or even of immediate value。 The faculty of imaginative insight must be a part of his intellectual outfit。 He must be able; as he creates; to summon each scene whereof he treats before the eyes of his mind。 He must see the characters and their surroundings: the lion springing; the Zulu regiments rushing with uplifted spears; the fire eating into the grass of the hillside; while before it the scorched snakes glide and hiss。 He must share the every hope and care of those whom he begets: the rich; low voice of Ayesha must thrill his nerves; he must discern her en

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