Shadowland (Mar-Aug 1923)

/ The American Short Story "The fault above all others with which Europeans reproach American fiction is its lack of sincerity" By R. le Clerc Phillips IF one consults the card catalog of the New York Public Library, there is one section where the cards will be found to be extremely well-thumbed at the corners; that section is Fiction: Short Story. So black have these corners become that in glancing at them one has mental visions of that long stream of all sorts and conditions of men and women who have sought and are still seeking either money or immortality (usually the former, I imagine) via short-story writing. For the catalog lists a whole little library of books, the writers of which offer to tell their readers how the trick of writing stories is to be acquired ; and since most of us are simple souls with trusting dispositions, ever ready to believe that which we wish to believe, it is evident that there is a rooted conviction in the minds of large numbers of literary aspirants that the gift of writing can be learned from instruction books on the subject. And, indeed, who could resist such comforting and positive assurance as the following: "There is no magic connected with story writing and no especial gifts for it required Neither is a long and toilsome apprenticeship necessary." Or again (and from the same mentor) : "And when one's bread and butter, not to speak of jam, depends upon the number of words one turns out and sells, I submit that the 'pursuit of letters' becomes a very practical proposition — just as practical a proposition as running a shoe store or conducting a bank. . . . Story-writing at present is a definite and well-paid occupation, very much on the same plane as law, medicine or salesmanship." It is true that a little farther on a gust of modesty assails our sage, since he adds: "I do not say that I can make you one of the great Immortals, a Balzac or a Thackeray, a Kipling or a de Maupassant." Nevertheless, his promises are alluring enough, since he undertakes to teach his disciples a "well-paid occupation, very much on the same plane as law, medicine or salesmanship," and this without the long study, the expense and the examinations that at least the professions of law and medicine demand. Now, it is precisely on this foregoing matter, and right at the outset, that a split occurs between the ideals and opinions of American writers and those of Europe. Europeans emphatically do not believe that short-story writing is an occupation "very much on the same plane as law, medicine or salesmanship" ; they do not believe that it can be acquired without a long and toilsome apprenticeship. They emphatically do believe that very definite and special natural gifts are necessary for the writing of short stories, and that if these gifts be lacking, it is best for literary aspirants, for their own sake, for the sake of those who realty do possess the requisite gifts, and most of all the sake of the reading public at large, whose tastes should not be vitiated by mediocrity in standards, to refrain from further attempts of a literary nature, and to turn instead to law, medicine or salesmanship— preferably the latter. That this divergence of opinion between Americans and Europeans goes very deep is proved by the fact that in this country institutions as dignified as universities apparently sincerely believe that story-writing can be taught, since many of them advertise regular courses of instruction in the "subject," treating it much as if it were algebra, French grammar, geography or Latin, or a laboratory course. With regard to story writing, it is, of course, true that the grammar of a language can be taught, but one would suppose that the literary aspirant had already learnt this at school. It is equally true that a few technical hints can be imparted, such, for instance, as those concerning length, number of characters and unity of effect; but if the literary aspirant has not sufficient literary instinct to perceive these things for himself, without spending good money to attend courses, or precious time to read and absorb printed instructions, he had better by far abandon all thought of becoming a writer of short stories. There are, God knows, more than enough bad fiction writers already in existence ; let humanity be spared unnecessary additions, since the only type of story writing that is capable of being taught is that of the soulless, machine-made variety, that observes every technical regulation with mechanical precision, but into which the author has not been able to infuse one small spark of life nor one throb of honest emotion. Page Thirteen