69.
1925:
Rapid City, Man. 23 November,
1925
Dear Phelps,
I heard Allison's radio lecture. I am weary, weary. I don't
mind that part on the sexual aspect: that I can't help, of
course. But the lack of intelligence betrayed by the whole
thing. The absolute missing of the fundamentals: Niels land-hungry!!!
To call Ellen a Diana of the Marshes!!! Niels a young Hercules!!!
Making stencils out of living human beings! Etc. Etc.
A few points made me angry; points which have nothing to
do with the book. As if I, at my age, had competed with the
Ostenso kid! I have written to him about that. I'll see you,
I expect, shortly. So I won't add anything
As for your Christmas review, I wish to say one more thing.
You asked me, in a letter, some time ago, "How about the
fundamentals?" Well, I believe that sentence, "In the end
of the book becomes one more localization of the warfare
of the human spirit. Thus it fuses with the universal and
out of Manitoba landscape creates spiritual territory of
the soul," expresses, very beautifully, what I aimed at and
what I hope to do if I live long enough to publish another
work. The rest, now, in rebuke to Allison.
The Ryersons write as if the book had fallen dead from the
press.
Another point; I copy out a paragraph which I mean to insert
in that talk about "The Happy Ending"; it is called forth,
of course, by the discussion of that Sunday night at your
house.
"It is characteristic for the plight of humanity on this
globe that what is usually called "Comic" is invariably the
reflection of an individual mind. There are two ways of re-creating
life and the outside world in terms of the human spirit or
its reactions: the artist may suppress himself and let all
things as it were speak for themselves; if he does, the product
is invariably tragic: or he may accentuate and even exaggerate
his own, personal attitude towards the product of his artistic
re-creation may still be tragic - the case of Hardy; or it
may be comic - the case of Meredith.
"It is also characteristic that comic masterpieces have
a much smaller public than tragic ones: it takes a temperament
cooler, more remote from the common groundmass of humanity
to appreciate this comic element: a comic writer will be
appreciated only by those who share his Olympic detachment,
the aloof-point from which he envisages human life. All which
does not hinder that the comic is not, to use a term of logic,
contradictory to the tragic, but only contrary: that is,
the two are not mutually exclusive. In fact, to take three
comic masterpieces of World Literature: Molière's
Misanthrope; Congreve's Way of the World; and Meredith's
Richard Feverel: while all three mock at human frailties,
all three show that human frailties lead to disaster.
"Lastly, the highest comic achievement in invariably an
achievement of satire rather than of the purely comic spirit.
In fact, the latter seems completely limited to the productions
of pure fancy, that is, to a realm of secondary importance,
where we agree to waive all demands of verisimilitude to
sit down for a few hours of relaxation from grim realities."
Many more things might be said; but this is the essence
of my reaction to that evening's discussion. You see how
valuable that sort of thing may be for me.
Well, as I said in my last letter, unless you cal my visit
to Winnipeg off, I'll start from here on Dec. 2. Not having
the cash for the ticket, I shall, perforce, have to wait
until then.
Yours truly,
F.P.G.
