叉叉电子书 > 文学电子书 > the days of my life >

第86章

the days of my life-第86章

小说: the days of my life 字数: 每页3500字

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!



ch; low voice of Ayesha must thrill his nerves; he must discern her enthralling and unearthly beauty; and look into the mingled grandeurs of her blasted soul!
And so on; and on; for if he; the creator; does not know the beings and things which he creates — if the details of them are as blurred as the images in a defective glass — how can he expect to convey a clear picture to his reader? At the best that reader must help him out; must be the possessor of a certain receptive power and able to fill in a thousand minutiae of character and so forth; for to attempt to state these would overload the story; which; be it remembered; should consist of action; action; action from the first page to the last。 For the rest; little matters。 Even if the writer does not know what is ing next the circumstance is of no importance; for it will e when it is wanted。 There are even advantages in this; since; if he does not know; it is quite certain that his reader must remain in equal ignorance — a thing to be desired。
Such is the whole art of romance…writing as it is understood by me — who; critics may say; per contra; do not understand it at all。 To such as have sufficient experience of life and adventure in far lands; or sufficient vision to enable them to re…create the past; the gift is to be had for the taking — by those who can take。 To such as lack these qualifications it is somewhat hard to grasp and hold。 But even if he possesses all this equipment I would warn the future artist not to expect too much success; since a perfect specimen of the true breed of the beautiful butterfly; Romance; is rarely to be caught。 After the searcher has hunted all his life; if he finds two or three of them in his cabi he will have done very well indeed; and even at these; connoisseurs who sit at home and do not hunt themselves will be found to cavil。 In old days such specimens were perhaps more mon; though but few have survived the rust and damp of time。 But then their breeding…grounds in the dank tropical marshes or the lion…haunted forests were less known; and those who devoted themselves to this chase were few in number and supremely qualified for the business。 Now travelling is cheap; hundreds handle the ; and all e home with something that is offered for sale under the ancient label。
It is curious how often imagination is verified by fact — perhaps; as I said at the beginning of this screed; because the lines in which it must work are narrow and after all based on fact; perhaps because it does possess some spiritual insight of its own。 Many instances have e within my own experience of which I will quote a few that I chance to remember。
I pass over “King Solomon’s Mines;” a work of pure imagination; for in my day very little was known of the regions wherein its scenes were laid; many details of which have been verified by subsequent discovery。 In its sequel; “Allan Quatermain;” however; occurs a fine example of the literary coincidence。 In this book I invented a mission station at an unexplored spot on the Tana River; which station I caused to be attacked by the Masai。 In subsequent editions of the work I inserted the following note; which explains itself:
By a very strange and sad coincidence; since the above was written; the Masai; in April 1886; massacred a missionary and his wife; Mr。 and Mrs。 Houghton — on this same Tana River; and at the spot described。 These are; I believe; the first white people who are known to have fallen victims to this cruel tribe。
Again; in a tale called “Maiwa’s Revenge;” I gave an elaborate description of a certain escape of Allan Quatermain from pursuing savages; who hunted him up the face of a cliff and seized hold of his ankles。 He freed himself from their attentions by firing down on them along the line of his leg with a pistol。 Some years later a gentleman arrived at this house whose name; I think; was Ebbage; and on whose card was printed the vague and remote address; “Matabeleland。” He informed me that he had travelled specially from London to inquire how on earth I had learned the details of his escape from certain savages; as he had never mentioned them to a single soul。 Before he left I satisfied myself that his adventure and that invented by myself and described in the tale; which I had thought one of a somewhat original sort; were in every particular identical。
Again; in “Mr。 Meeson’s Will” I set out very fully indeed; the circumstances under which a new and splendid liner was lost at sea; and the great majority of those on board of her were drowned owing to lack of boats to acmodate them。 In a preface to this story; written in the year 1888; I make the following remark:
The only part of this humble skit; however; that is meant to be taken seriously is the chapter which tells of the loss of the R。M。S。 Kangaroo。 I believe it to be a fair and; in the main; accurate account of what must and one day will happen upon a large and crowded liner in the event of such a collision as that described; or of her rapid foundering from any other cause。 It is a remarkable thing that people who for the most part set a sufficient value on their lives; daily consent to go to sea in ships the boats of which could not on emergency possibly contain half their number。
During the present year this prophecy; and indeed the whole scene of the sinking of the Kangaroo; has been fearfully fulfilled in the instance of the great White Star liner Titanic。 If I could think of and foresee such things; how is it that those who are responsible for the public safety have proved themselves so lacking in prevision — that section of the Board of Trade; for instance; whose duty it is to attend to such matters?
I fear we must seek the answer in the character of our nation; whose peculiarity it is to ignore or underrate dangers that are not immediately visible; and therefore never be ready to meet them。 If anyone doubts this; let him study the history of our wars during the last sixty years or so; and even earlier。 The Crimea; the Abyssinian Expedition; the first Boer War; the Zulu War; the second Boer War; which was the child of the last two; the Egyptian Wars; have all told the same tale。 With the details of three of these I have been acquainted; and they are awful。 Only our wealth has brought us out of them — I will not say with honour; but in safety。 We declare proudly that “we always muddle through;” but this; after all; is a boast that only fits the lips of the inpetent。 What will happen when we are called upon to meet a nation; or nations; of equal or greater strength; that are petent?24 One can only hope for the best; and that the genius of our people; or of individuals among them; may carry us through in the future as it has done in the past。 Meanwhile we blunder on。 England; in lives and treasure; pays the bill out of her ample but not bottomless pocket; and everything ends in a rocket…burst of decorations conferred amid the shouts of the devotees of music…halls。
23 This was written in 1912; and has been lying in Messrs。 Longmans’ safe without the author having access to it since that date。 — Ed。
Probably the blame is to be laid at the door of our national lack of imagination: we cannot embody in our minds or provide against that of which we have had no recent experience。 We live from hand to mouth; and think more of the next elections than of our future as a people and a great Empire; refusing to bear those small burdens that would make us safe; and to support statesmen rather than politicians。 Any who point out these things are cried down as alarmists; or as persons seeking some personal or party end; since the petty and the mean always see their own colours reflected in the eyes of others。 Like the large farmer who confided to him his conviction that I was travelling on my tour of agricultural investigation through England in search of “free drinks;” these judge by their own low standards。 “Free drinks;” or their equivalent; is what they want; and therefore must be what you want; since otherwise why would anyone work for nothing? And here es the sorrow。 The little minds; Shakespeare’s multitude who “suckle fools and chronicle small beer;” are in the vast majority。 They have the votes and give power to the

返回目录 上一页 下一页 回到顶部 0 0

你可能喜欢的