Chapter VII (3)

“It is easier to tell you how I came to write ‘The Sun Chaser’ than to tell you anything about it.... Early one morning in October I was sitting at my writing table in my little log cabin up in the Maine wilderness. It was about half past five, and I had started my fire and had my cup of cocoa and my crust of bread and was ready for work. But I sat there watching the dawn. Ahead of me I had one of the endless pot-boilers to do by means of which I provided bread and butter and met my responsibilities. The very thought of doing another of these ‘things’ made me feel ill and tired. Suddenly up over the field before my cabin with the dawn I saw the fleeing figure of the SUN CHASER running towards me. More I cannot tell you except that it was like listening to wonderful music as I sat there seeing the story unfold. I did nothing that morning except ‘listen.’ And for the next month I did no pot-boilers, but work on this story.... January first of that year I took up college lecturing and since then I have written no pot-boilers....”--_Jeannette Marks._

CLASSIFICATION. A novelette of twelve divisions, almost epical. (But see Miss Marks’s own comment, below. It is noteworthy that the present analyst uses the word “epic” to characterize the story, whereas Miss Marks sees in it a _lack_ of the epic quality. Or so the implication runs.)

Apart from length, the character interest shifts from the Sun Chaser to his daughter, and his wife; the dénouement emphasizes the child’s sacrifice. The epilogue emphasizes the inhumanity of man to man, and its abeyance in one case because of the sacrifice.

(The designation of the work as a novelette is, in all its bearings, indicative of values greater than those of the short-story.)

PLOT. Enumerate the earlier stages of the plot action. The _dramatic climax_ is formed by the vividly summarized struggle between the Sun Chaser and his wife and child. Important _steps toward the end of the action_ are: the placing of the Sun Chaser in the town lock-up; the mother’s leaving Pearl alone while she goes to return the wash; Pearl’s journeying to feed her father. (This journey is, in itself, the largest struggle _within_ the narrative; for, the struggle to find happiness--as Miss Marks has indicated--is the chief one.) Study the various phases of the child’s battle against the forces of nature.

_The Climax of Action._ Pearl falls in the snow.

_Dénouement._ Her body is found.

CHARACTERIZATION. The most remarkable characterization exists in the case of the Sun Chaser. Miss Marks’s ability to reflect the mentality of his brain is particularly worthy of study.

In contrast to the Chaser, and yet not in violent opposition, is his wife. Study her portrait, looking for her sense of the practical, softened by her own love and gentleness. What reaction on _you_ is effected by her effort to keep her husband from the lock-up?

Pearl is tenderly and delicately drawn, and yet she evinces the practicality of her mother. See, e.g., pages 227, 244. In what ways is she the character who most compels sympathy? Would she do so, apart from the final supreme sacrifice?

DETAILS. The clip-clop of Ambrose’s walk is a good example of the _sound_ effects which increase the dramaturgic quality. Point out other instances. The lamp in Ambrose’s home, “torch of flame and blackened stream of smoke,” is illustrative of the _color_ contribution. Give other examples. But, in this story, greater in value than either sound or color is the sense of motion. Mr. O’Brien calls attention to the “rhythmical progression” of the narrative. To this suggestion, add your own interpretation of the movement. Is there in the idea of the search for happiness a connotation of something never achieved, never-ended? and with the search a constant necessity for “Going--going--going”?

How does the story affect you emotionally? With regard to individual moments, how does the behavior of the liquor dealer move you? Is “contempt” the feeling you have for him, or is it stronger? What is your predominant feeling for Ambrose? Sympathy is incited through a combination of human relationships: 1. Pearl’s love for her father; 2. Sybil Clarke’s love for Pearl, and 3. her pity for Ambrose, her husband. What reaction is aroused by the incident wherein Pearl and David figure?

* * * * *

AUTHOR’S COMMENT. “Is ‘The Sun Chaser’ any longer than some of Stevenson’s short stories, or Balzac’s or Guy de Maupassant’s?... And what is a short story, anyhow? Isn’t the range of narrative the question involved in a short story? In a play I can tell from the ‘feel’ of the material whether it is a one-acter or full dress length. Isn’t there a suggestion of the epic tendency in the novelettes as well as the novel:--the incidental use of incident, for example, contributing to the sense of mass? This is the sort of tendency one may not admit to short story or play where concentration is so much greater. As I see it, now that it is done, ‘The Sun Chaser’ structurally as well as spiritually is marked by extreme concentration, and for that reason, personally, it would seem to me to be a short story.... The short story appeals to me from the technical point of view because it is more perfect than the novel, even as I consider the play to be more perfect structurally than the short story. I believe in concrete foundations and steel superstructures, and these, I think, can be built for the play, but not for the short story any more than for the poem.... It seems to me that the well-equipped artist always has a feeling for structure. Analysis, however, does not precede creation. Because of the nature of the creative artist’s mind, it does not necessarily follow creation, either. There may be actual inability to analyze. It’s as difficult to see the sum total of the work you’ve done as to see the sum total of yourself. The creative artist is not an analytical chemist of his own mental processes.... I have no standards.... I think that the thing which ‘arrives’ in short story or play is, like beauty, ‘its own excuse for being.’”--_Jeannette Marks._

THE STORY VINTON HEARD AT MALLORIE

In this work Miss Moseley has presented a story of the war, a narrative of the supernatural having points in common with Mr. Rhodes’s “Extra Men.” In each, there is the spirit-world visitor, in each the truth conveyed by him which gives the story its thematic character, and in each the living power of the dead made manifest. As I have pointed out in “Representative Ghosts” (_The Bookman_, August, 1917), and elsewhere, mankind will be interested in ghosts so long as earth endures. The most decided impetus to fiction given by the war has been, so far, in the direction of the supernatural. It is interesting to know that Mr. O’Brien considers this and Frances Gilchrist Wood’s “The White Battalion” the two most enduring legends contributed this year to the supernatural literature of the war.

PLOT.

_Initial Incident_: Young Mallorie is killed in action.

_Steps toward the Climax_: His body is taken home to Mallorie Abbey,
where masses are held over it. A Zeppelin appears, ready to discharge
bombs just over the chapel, when an aeroplane swoops noiselessly
down; the Zeppelin falls. The Germans are all killed. The aeronaut
descends. He accepts the invitation to stay awhile at Mallorie
Abbey and remains almost a week. Lieutenant Templar, as he calls
himself, occupies dead young Mallorie’s room and wears his clothes.
He plays tennis and behaves in general like a normal healthy young
Englishman, but that he has unusual powers is evinced by the words
of the visiting general officer, “How does he _know_?”

_The Climax_: Lady Maurya’s questions of the aeronaut terminate in
the answer, “Because in me is the strength,” etc., revealing his
supernatural character. He disappears.

PRESENTATION. The single incident becomes subdued, rather than emphasized, by representing it as told to Vinton who, in turn, repeats it to Ware and Abigail. Credulity is gained in assuming for each narrator an implied or expressed belief,--“I said to her that I was the most believing man since the Dark Ages.” And their faith acts cumulatively to compel the reader’s acceptance. By rehearsing in New England the story of English background and atmosphere, Miss Moseley gains for it sharpness and, at the same time, a certain _nuance_. The stormy night supposedly affects the hearers’ credulity, and through them, once more, the reader’s.

HEART OF YOUTH

COMMENT AND QUERY. “For me,” says Mr. Muilenburg, “the best story is the one that gives the reader the greatest after-mood, and this can be done with very little action. To give the feeling of an environment, to show character absolutely in a life-like manner, and to give nature and man an equal place: these I consider necessary to almost every story.”

Using his own criterion, how well has Mr. Muilenburg succeeded in every respect mentioned above? What mood does the story give you? Where is the environment? Does the feeling that arises from it emphasize the general atmosphere?

Pages 172 and 173 introduce the boy, Frank, in his setting. Which is more important--character or place? Again measure your answer by the author’s ideals.

“Both stories have kept close to realism,” says Mr. Muilenburg, “as the greater part of both have been taken from my own experience, and circumstances are reproduced rather than fancied.” Is there anything in the characterization of the boy that tells you he is, in some measure, a reflection of the author himself?

“Isn’t it possible,” asks the author, “that only the stories that have some situation where the characters must be shown in primitive fashion are enduring?” How would you answer this question in general? What is the situation in this story? May it be termed “primitive”?

DETAILS OF COMPOSITION. Pages 173, 174 recount an incident which shows the elements of conflict in the boy’s soul. How does it prepare for the greater struggle? (See pages 179, 180, 181.) What purpose has the scene between Frank and Bill with respect to later developments and particularly the struggle?

What contribution to the boy’s character is made in his ceasing work only when the shadow of the cottonwood tree pointed north? in his taking the milk-pails from the hooks? (Page 182.)

In the “heart of youth” conflict (page 180) what emotions are arrayed against each other?

What value has the episode of the bird and the snake? What conditions make it an integral part of the action, not a forced parallel?

What details of setting and circumstance, and what traits in the boy combine to solicit your sympathy?

The little story is unified in character, place and time. It reveals by concrete symbol the significant phases of the struggle. It performs a _tour de force_ in avoiding an extended analysis of the boy’s psychology. Even though the narrative is told from Frank’s “angle,” the reader knows what he thinks by what he does and says, rather than by the author’s analysis of his mental state. Further, the work makes a small contribution to literary history, since it is representative of a period of life in the Middle West, through which the author has passed; and it is reflected there now, to some extent. The fact that there is a strong vein of poetry throughout is because “poetry is found naturally in the life of a people who must struggle with a hard physical environment.”

AT THE END OF THE ROAD

Mr. Clayton Hamilton says in “A Manual of the Art of Fiction” (page 187), “--although the novel may be either realistic or romantic in general method, the short-story is almost of necessity obliged to be romantic. In the brief space allotted to him, it is practically impossible for the writer of short-stories to induce a general truth from particular, imagined facts imitated from actuality: it is far simpler to deduce the imagined details of the story from a central thesis, held securely in the author’s mind and suggested to the reader at the outset. It is a quicker process to think from the truth to facts than to think from facts to the truth.” And in illustration of his statement, he adds that Daudet and de Maupassant, who worked realistically in their novels, worked romantically in their _contes_, also that the great short-story writers of our own language have been, nearly all of them, romanticists--from Poe to Kipling.

With this interesting tenet in mind, look over all the realistic stories in the four volumes we are studying, and try to apply to each the same methods by which the romantic stories are studied. Does the application break down? How far can you follow it? Try, for example, to analyze the plot of “At the End of the Road” according to the type used again and again in this book.

Why is this story told in the first person? Try telling it in the third person, beginning that is, “The latter part of the summer found _him_ tramping,” etc., and see what is lost.

Recall stories which have for setting a picnic ground, a fair ground, or other community gathering. Read Thomas Hardy’s “On the Western Circuit.” (In “Life’s Little Ironies.”) Why is such a setting good for many types of story--whether realistic, romantic, comic, tragic?

Who is the central figure in Mr. Muilenburg’s Iowa story? Would his story gain importance if detached from the subjectivity of the narrator--if the musings, observations and feelings were cut? What would happen to the whole narrative if such a change were made? Sum up the gist of the “story” in a few words.

What is the struggle? Wherein lies the human appeal?

What is the end of the action? How do you know?

The drunkard is an age-old figure, whether humorous or tragic. What is the essential difference between the tragic and the humorous portrayal? Why, for instance, does one laugh at an actor who plays the part of Cassio, in the drinking-scene from “Othello”? Why does one “feel sorry for” Bill as here conceived?

* * * * *

What theme is lightly touched and where?

What has this example of Mr. Muilenburg’s work in common with the preceding story by him?

What color comes to mind instantly on thinking of his chromatic effects? Is it in harmony with the other story-elements? Are there notes of contrast?

AT THE END OF THE PATH

The artistry of the author has worked consciously or unconsciously to create a finished piece of work. Told as a single episode in the experience of a traveler, it has the _magnitude_ of the short-story.

PROPORTION. This essential is placed first, here, as being the chief means by which the effect is obtained. This effect comes, cumulatively, and is increased by giving climactic value to a coincidence. The coincidence, properly prepared for, is not of the kind that would have had great worth at the end of a longer story.

To illustrate how it might have been diminished, rather than increased:

Throw the time back to the youth of Giovanni and Rosa. Develop, at length, the love affair of the two young people. (This, alone, would require several pages.) Show the struggle of the girl, torn between religion and love. Present her prayer to the Virgin, the answer, and her decision (done dramatically, all this, perhaps in two pages), and her entrance into the nunnery. (So much would be done, logically, from Rosa’s point of view.) Shifting the spot-light to Giovanni, show him stabbing the picture of the Virgin; his disappearance; his meeting the funeral, and his being informed of Rosa’s death. The fact that it occurred at the time he stabbed the picture, as the coincidence, revealed after so long a development, would lack comparative height or worth.

Consider such treatment, and by force of comparison see that the author did best to treat the occurrences at a time long after they happened. The rehearsed story is in this instance undoubtedly the best. Further, by its use, the last words (page 188), “I am Giovanni,” are possible, intensifying the effect.

Considering the plot, what should you say are the chief steps in the development? Analyze both the inner story and in its relation to the enveloping action. The initial impulse, for instance, in the whole narrative is, the motivation for the monk’s telling his story. The dénouement, similarly, is the fact that Giovanni and the monk are identical. What are initial impulse and dénouement of the rehearsed narrative?

SETTING. What is the worth of the setting in such a story, both as regards unity and convincingness? Note all the details which are distinctly Italian. What connotation have the cypress trees? Do they intensify the mood? In connection with the immediate scene in the chapel, what value has the sentence, “Beneath it, on a little stand, lay a slim-bladed vicious knife, covered with dust”?

CHARACTERIZATION. What added _theme_ is conveyed in the description, “He was old, the oldest man Blagden had ever seen, etc.”? Does one get it on first reading, or on reflection?

Is Blagden a character, or a reason for telling the story?

DETAILS. Point out the several examples of mysticism.

THE WHALE AND THE GRASSHOPPER

CLASSIFICATION. “You are right,” says Mr. O’Brien, “about ‘The Whale and the Grasshopper.’ It is a sort of fable and like the other sketches in my book it was written for the sake of the philosophy and humor. The starting point of the narrative was the remark of Padna Dan ‘As the Whale said to the Grasshopper,’ which I considered a good title, and accordingly wrote the phantasy.”

Read as a sort of parallel, Emerson’s “The Mountain and the Squirrel.” What is the difference in the mental attitude of the two authors?

SETTING. Why is such a fable particularly well set near Castlegregory on a June morning? Note the intensifying of the setting by means of dialect. Would the place be realized without the Irish speech? Study the selective processes used to make the dialect easy to understand and yet distinctly characteristic of the Green Isle.

CHARACTERS. Standish McNeill and Felix O’Dowd seem to be real people,--at the very beginning, because of their names. The writer who is less careful would have endowed them with Mike or Pat. How are they kept up from start to finish as real? Why, for example, do you know they took that walk? What characteristic (at once Celtic and individual) of Standish enables him to “put across” so vividly a yarn which one _knows_ all along can be only fable?

GENERAL METHODS. Mr. O’Brien states that he does not know how much he believes in or practices technical distinctions. “Writing, I think, is the art that must evolve out of ourselves. I began life as an artist and specialized in sculpture, but finding there were things I could not express through such a medium I took to writing. When I am impressed by some important event, it fashions itself in story or drama form in my mind, without any conscious effort on my part, and when I feel intelligent--which is not often--I write.”

IN BERLIN

“In Berlin” is a _tour de force_ of short-story construction. Miss O’Reilly has followed the well-known principle of beginning near the climax, that the story may gain intensity. The result is excellent for this one principle. But the whole composition of 125 or 150 words in reality plays up a single dramatic moment--not a single Incident.

The advantage to the student in reproducing similar “dramatic moment” stories will be to show the value of material in magnitude and worth, to teach him to appreciate climax, and to feel the advantages--and the disadvantages--of economy.

Read Chapter III in “A Handbook on Story Writing,” describing and illustrating the Anecdote and the Incident.

THE INTERVAL

STARTING POINT. Mr. O’Sullivan states that the story arose primarily from his foreseeing, in 1915, that one result of the War would be a revived interest in the supernatural. This foreknowledge illustrates that the author must be a little ahead of his time, rather than a little behind it.

The clearness of his prevision is illustrated in such stories as Gordon Arthur Smith’s “Jeanne the Maid” (1915), Edith Wharton’s “Kerfol” (1916), Alice Brown’s “The Flying Teuton” (1917), and Frances Wood’s “The White Battalion” (1918). It would be safe to hazard that these authors foresaw a similar demand.

TITLE. Meaning of “The Interval”? Is it apt?

SETTING. Why did the author choose London, rather than an American city? Is it clear from the story alone that Mr. O’Sullivan is thoroughly familiar with English locale and character?

In the first paragraph occurs the sentence, “A dense haze, gray and tinged ruddy, lay between the houses, sometimes blowing with a little wet kiss against the face.” What color effects are in harmony with the atmosphere of the story?

PLOT. The _struggle_ is in the mind of Mrs. Wilton. She wishes to be assured that “it was not all over, that he was somewhere, not too far away,” etc., page 385. The _situation_ is here disclosed, suspense having been used as to Mrs. Wilton’s purpose in the previous pages. “This must be the tenth seer she had consulted since Hugh had been killed,” page 384 is the most revelatory sentence.

Is the struggle successful?

The _initial incident_ is this visit to the clairvoyant who “sees” Hugh.

Which of the incidents constitutes the _dramatic climax_?

“She slipped out of bed hastily ...” (page 390) is the _climax of action_, or as much as is expressed. The reader must finish it for himself.

(The final sentence, with seeming carelessness dropping the information that “after her death the slippers could never be found,” is an incentive to the reader’s fancy. It has no plot value, except by _suggestion_.)

Did Hugh really return, or did Mrs. Wilton see him as a logical result of her brooding? If the former choice is made, the inference is that the reader accepts Hugh as a bona fide ghost; if the latter, then he is only existent through the sick-woman’s mind and the mind of the clairvoyant. (See article, “Representative Ghosts,” _Bookman_, August, 1917.)

DETAILS. Does the author believe the clairvoyant was genuine? If so, why does he say (page 384), “A look of complicity, of cunning, perhaps of irony, passed through the dealer’s cynical and sad eyes”?

Are the visitations of Hugh arranged in climactic order?

Is Mrs. Wilton’s illness adequately motivated? What is the double explanation of it? Do you accept the natural or the supernatural reason?

THE TOAST TO FORTY-FIVE

PLOT.

_Initial Incident_: On August 16, 1866, at Paris, Vermont, was held
a banquet in honor of sixty-odd returned heroes. It was called the
“Forty-Five” banquet in honor of the boys who had not returned.
Captain Jack Fuller proposed to save one bottle of vintage, the seal
of which should be broken when in the course of years only two of
the sixty heroes remained. On their final reunion they would drink a
toast to “Forty-Five.”

_Steps toward Dramatic Climax_: Captain Jack was the first to join
Forty-Five. He left a son, who grew up, married, and died, leaving a
son, young Jack Fuller.

In 1910, eleven heroes are living; by August 16, 1912, the ranks have
dwindled to four old men. On August 17, 1912, Jack Fuller, grandson
of Captain Jack of Civil War fame, in a drunken fit accidentally
kills his baby. Sobered by the tragedy, he promises reformation.
Succeeding months witness his hard struggle. He wishes, as a final
safeguard, to join the National Guardsmen, but his wife, Betty,
begs him to stay with her--she cannot bear alone the memories. Jack
raises a company, becomes their captain, and drills them as Fuller’s
Fire-eaters. (The Mexican trouble motivates this step.) In August,
1916, three of the Forty-Five are left: Henry Weston, Uncle Joe
Fodder, and Wilber Nieson. In February, 1917, the United States
severs relations with Germany. In July, half of Fuller’s Fire-eaters
have been called upon to make up the Paris quota. Jack’s name has
not been drawn; but he wishes to enlist, the more so as his men will
enlist in a body, not waiting for the draft. Betty implores him to
remain; as she breaks down physically, he is torn between love and
duty. Wilber Nieson and Henry Weston die. Only Uncle Joe is left; the
toast cannot be pledged, after all, as planned.

Jack makes up his mind to enlist with his whole Company--Minor
Climax. A dinner is proposed for them in place of the old reunion.
Hundreds of Parisians gather; the largest assembly hall obtainable
is crowded. Sam Hod, editor, is toastmaster by virtue of having
three sons in the Fire-eaters. Uncle Joe Fodder sits at his right.
Captain Jack Fuller at his left. Hod announces that Uncle Joe has
requested that the toast to Forty-Five be given under the present
circumstances. Uncle Joe offers a toast to Captain Jack Fuller and
his posterity.

_Dramatic Climax_: Jack’s glass is raised; as he hears the words of
Uncle Joe, he sees his wife’s face. He pours out the wine and makes
his toast with water.

_Climax of Action_: Betty sends Jack away--with a smile--and she goes
to work at the box factory.

DETAILS. Is there a constant struggle for one character, or does it shift from Jack to Betty?

Is there, accordingly, a stronger or a weaker effect? Is the action unified?

Did you find the time element confusing or anywhere difficult to follow?

What details mark the action as belonging particularly to Vermont?

How many themes do you find in the narrative? Are they brought into essential harmony? What purpose of the author interests you most? What does the author mean to convey in the recognition of Sam Hod and others that Jack’s toast is almost identical with his grandfather’s?

What do you think of the introduction and the emphasis on the wine? How does the following statement heighten interest?--“that liquor was consumed in the pledging of a toast.”

Why does the author add so long a conclusion after the story action has been completed? Is he wise to give the final place of emphasis to the sentence, “All over America her name is legion”? Why?

THE BIG STRANGER ON DORCHESTER HEIGHTS

THE STARTING POINT. Mr. Pentz states, regarding the story and its inception, “Substantially true in fact, it was told and retold to appreciative friends; then it was written at their suggestion. Probably it gathered moss during its latent existence and probably something was lost....”

Technically, the story is an Incident. It has, however, an underlying significance elevating it above the Incident type. This significance becomes manifest in the dénouement, which reveals the influence of Lincoln.

PRESENTATION. The story is told by the omniscient author, who uses Paul’s “slant.”

SETTING. South Boston, March, 1860. Point out details which keep the locality before the reader from beginning to end. Why 1860, rather than 1861 or 1862?

PLOT. The plot being slight requires only a clear exposition of events in natural order. The author has made use of his one chance to create suspense and utilized it in holding up the name of the Big Stranger. One suspects, but is not sure until the last words.

CHARACTER. The main value of the story lies in its description of Lincoln, both in the words of the author--from Paul’s angle--and by what the great man says and does. Which is more forceful?

* * * * *

Mr. Pentz’s prescription for a story is brief: “Having the material write it out.” He believes, further, in the use of simple language. “The average reader must not be sent to the dictionary; it divides the interest and weakens the effect. A writer should eliminate his personality altogether; what he may know of other languages, or of intricate English, will not interest a reader who is busy with a villain in pursuit of the heroine. ‘The play’s the thing.’”

“A CERTAIN RICH MAN--”

CLASSIFICATION. A perfect specimen of the short-story, even of the extreme type-form since all the unities are beautifully maintained. The setting is a dinner table in a home of wealth and refinement; the time is the present; the length of the action is, perhaps, an hour.

STARTING POINT, AND FIRST STAGES OF CONSTRUCTION. The author was present at a dinner where a young man of wealth, the host, remarked in the course of a discussion of the war that he would willingly give his life if through that sacrifice he could bring an end to the blood glut. The remark impressed every one deeply and was discussed at length. After due thought, Mr. Perry feeling the “story” in the situation, decided that it lay in having the man make good. He mulled the matter over for weeks before finding an answer to his next difficulty “In what way could he make good?” Then there occurred to him the expedient of having present an inventor who had invented an appliance which through its complete death dealing qualities would end the war forthwith. Here, then, was the complete thread of the story. Characters and descriptive background followed in due course. The author has an objection to sad endings and would like to have made it clear that the man came through his test safely. But the whole spirit of the story militated against this. So he left the outcome uncertain, but the inference is that Colcord yielded his life.

CHARACTERIZATION. There are nine persons, each deftly made a living part of the assembly. They are, in approximate order of importance: Nicholas Colcord and his wife Evelyn. (They may be spoken of as untried gold); Professor Simec (the assayer); Jeffery Latham and Sybil his wife (tried gold); Arnold Bates (alloy); Jerry Dane and his wife Bessie (baser metal); Dr. Allison and his wife(?).

In spite of the rather generous number of characters, the part each has is so definite, serving by contrast and comparison to emphasize the main character--Nicholas Colcord--as to seem well-nigh indispensable. Moreover, apart from plot values and unity of effect, the number at the table works for verisimilitude. It is just the right size for a party in a conservative home, and it embraces the variety of types one finds in any similar group.

The dramatic method of characterizing is used to greatest extent: the men and women describe themselves in their remarks and in their behavior, particularly in the matter of measuring up to the test proposed. Go through the story with an eye to the speeches of each. Is any one person given many remarks? Who is the prominent spokesman? Why?

ANALYSIS OF PLOT AS PRESENTED. The _first significant step_ in the action lies in Nick’s remark (page 399) that he would give his life if in so doing he could end the war. (The foil to this remark is in Bates’s, “I’m with Nick.”)

The _dramatic climax_ is sounded on page 403: “Suppose ... that I could make this absurd condition ... exist....” It is emphasized in the clear call on page 404: “I am going to ask you to make your offer good.”

_The climax of action_ lies in Colcord’s words (page 408): “When do you want me?” (This speech is emphasized by contrast in Bates’s, “I withdraw right here.” It is strengthened by Evelyn’s acceptance of her husband’s sacrifice.)

_The dénouement_ is left to the reader.

DETAILS. Carefully study the circumstances preceding the initial impulse of the story action noting the details of preparation. For example, the “national colors merged with those of the allied nations” (page 391); “Rumor credited to him at least one of the deadliest chemical combinations” (page 392); “There’s a sort of grace given, I fancy” (page 396); “Sacrifice, Mrs. Colcord” (page 397) deepening the note of patriotism.

Whose angle of narration is used? Does the author anywhere depart from it, preferring his own angle? Does he anywhere seem to turn from the angle of the chosen one, putting her under the spot-light, instead? If you find these shifts, can you justify them by showing that the author makes a gain greater than the loss he sustains? If he makes no shift, how does he widen the narrow range afforded only one person?

By what preparation does Mr. Perry create the needed impression that the Colcords were fully aware of the sacrifice involved? (Note, especially, the preparation in Evelyn’s response to Latham’s comment, page 393, ... “you make me shiver!”)

Page 405: “He raised a thin forefinger and levelled it along the table.” What image is called up?

By what detailed description and exposition does Mr. Perry make you “believe,” at least momentarily, that Simec had really invented the appliance?

What locale is suggested, outside the immediate setting? Does it matter, in a narrative of this kind?

GENERAL. Mr. Perry’s views should be spread abroad to all who would master the art of story writing. “No art is rarer, or more difficult of attainment.... First there is the plot. I think the good short story demands a plot. Stylistic writing designed to atone for the lack of a definite idea, or to stand in lieu of a definitely worked out plot is not to my way of thinking a pure short story. There must be a plot, a plot peculiar to itself and peculiar to the medium in which it is set forth. Very rarely, I believe, may the perfect short story plot be adapted to any other vehicle. Nine times out of ten it would not serve as the motif of the play, the novel, the film or the sketch. The piece of short fiction, thus, is _sui generis_. Again the scope is limited. There may be no leisurely characterization, no extended dissertation; descriptions are admissible only where they assist in carrying on the action--or at least do not interfere with it--and in the telling of the tale there is no place in the scheme for aught save the ultimate objective.

“Thus carried out and presented in type we have something which we may regard as the polished gem of literature, establishing a mood in the reader out of all proportion to its size--and perhaps its importance. For the short story very largely is designed for entertainment, and rarely bears the moral purpose of the great novel or the didactic intent of the essay.

“I say ‘very largely.’ There are, of course, short stories written with a purpose--some great ones--but that purpose is best realized when the essential characteristics of the story form are observed, when the reader in other words feels whatever emotions, or grasps whatever lesson the writer intended to convey, through the medium of a strong, deeply marked plot carried with precision from situation to clash to dénouement.”--_Lawrence Perry._

THE PATH OF GLORY

STARTING POINT AND FIRST PROCESSES. “It so happens in the case of ‘The Path of Glory’ that I can give you exactly the germinal idea from which the story sprang. Three months before I wrote it a friend put into my hand two letters. The first was written by Piatt Andrew of The American Ambulance at Paris and gave the full details of a wonderful funeral accorded a young American volunteer driver who was killed on an early trip; the second was the last personal letter of the young man to his family--the letter of a young man of education and breeding and in no way similar to the Nat letter of my story save as they both expressed a fundamental human longing. Copies were being made and I was offered some. I carried mine home and laid them by. But they haunted me. ‘There’s a story there,’ I thought. However, I didn’t seem to get a story--at once. Nevertheless my mind played with the letters. That funeral! The story of course lay there, but how to set it off, enhance it properly. One day thinking it over idly--I have a vagabond mind and never attack a problem in any logical fashion--the solution dawned quite suddenly. It would be best set off by contrast, of course, with some unthinkably shabby funeral, and would receive its greatest force by being reconstructed through the minds of a people to whom a funeral is a precious event.”--_Mary Brecht Pulver._

After a statement to the effect that she knows “people to whom the trappings and ceremonials of death take on a sense of privilege,” Mrs. Pulver continues:

“Just here I got some paper and a pencil and wrote the story. Or rather it wrote itself--as my stories usually do. When I began describing the lonely farm in which my people lived I had not the least idea who the people were--how many, what sex, age, race, or previous condition of servitude. There was a family in that house. A family preferably in hard luck. Then at the foot of the hill I saw a lame boy driving a cow. I walked along with him--and recognizing him as Luke, and acquainting myself with his ideas and frame of mind, I knew of course who his people were, how many, their habits, their names--‘all’s to it,’ as Luke would have said.

“And so I told their story--and about how one of them went to France and got killed. And how indirectly he helped them out of their hard luck. That is all there was to ‘The Path of Glory.’”

PLOT. Note, first, that since the presentation is consistently from Luke’s angle, the plot events are given in chronological order _for him_; but that from the point of view of actual occurrence they are presented with some inversion. (For example, the experience of Mrs. Haynes in the town precedes her summary to Luke.) In this respect, the author--perhaps unconsciously--shows ability to mass plot material to best advantage through artistic adherence to one angle of narration. Many short-story writers appear to understand this principle, yet fail to master it.

_Initial Impulse_: The story impulse lies, dormant, in the business
of Nat’s funeral. Where does it become active?

_Main Steps in Action_: Nat’s visit home. A direct forecast of the
climax lies in the reason for his going to Europe. Another important
stage is the death and burial of Father Haynes, “Paw.”

_Dramatic Climax_: The combination of “Paw’s” home-made burial
and Nat’s death. The two come near together and constitute the
lowest turn of the Haynes wheel of fortune. In Nat’s death lies the
possibility for change. (In the presentation of the plot, this
climax is _reported_ through the letter, the reception of which is,
in itself, a step toward the _climax of action_.)

_Steps toward the Climax of Action_: The letter telling of Nat’s
death. Mrs. Haynes’s stony grief. The second letter; Nat’s funeral
and the _croix de guerre_. “Maw” awakes; she is “going downtown.” She
shows the letter, and soon understands that Nat has given glory to
Stony Brook. The letter is to be published. It is to be read aloud
at the schoolhouse and Nat’s story retold. There will be a memorial
service at the churches. There will be a big public service in the
Town Hall. (Other details make the change of fortune explicit and
complete.)

_Climax of Action_: “Maw” returns home, rehabilitated, and rehearses
the day’s experience to Luke. He recognizes that Nat has done
“somethin’ big for us all.”

CHARACTERS. If one test of the “short-story” is that no character should enter who does not assist in the action, will this story stand it? What, for example, is Tom’s part? Would you give him up? Is it permissible to introduce characters to enrich the action? There is no question about the value from a literary consideration.

The part of each main character is well-defined. Luke, self-conscious, lame and sensitive, offers the medium through whom the story is told. “Maw” suffers; it is she to whom the turns of fortune mean most; she is the chief character. “Paw” is the cause of the Haynes status in the community. Nat, the prodigal, is the one through whom rehabilitation comes.

The personalities that enrich the action are: 1. Clem, his wife, and S’norta. They do so (a) by intensifying “Maw’s” sense of poverty, (b) by furnishing contrast in worldly goods and in character; 2. Tom. His misfortune enhances the wretchedness of the main actors, and the probability of his being made sound in mind emphasizes their changed fortunes. 3. Background characters. All, practically, whom Mrs. Haynes meets on her famous day in the town.

Apply to these primary and secondary characters the tests suggested in previous exercises. Do they _live_?

SETTING. What does “Stony Brook, New York” suggest by way of physical and spiritual conditions? How is the locality an integral part of the atmosphere?

DETAILS. The “human appeal” in this narrative will make it hard for any reader, however crusty, to refrain from tears or an awakened sense of pity. By what measures has the author brought about this desired result? The list should be long. After you have made it, see how far you can generalize from it as to provocation of emotional reaction.

“What I like in reading a story,” Mrs. Pulver says, “is a simple gracious English, a shade whimsical perhaps, that concerns itself with a situation and people who palpitate, in whose fate you become sincerely interested, as humans, not merely a clever bit of literary bridge. And the whole must be laced for me with a dash of humor, that tender fun-poking that will save the written human appeal from being heart-throb stuff or the handiwork of a sob-sister.”

Some examples of contrast have already been offered. Point out others, even stronger.

In Division II (pages 421-425) the focus is on Nat, the action seemingly held up, meanwhile. Did you, in reading, feel this long delay to be irksome, or were you compensated by the matter itself and the vision of its promise?

In Division IV, what intensifying value has the rain?

In Division V, what intensifying value has the first sentence?--“It was dusk when Maw came back; dusk of a clear day, with a rosy sunset off behind the hills.”

GENERAL. Mary Brecht Pulver declares she is afraid she is that “hooted-at and disbelieved-in thing,” an inspirational writer. “Given a major premise, an argument, some slight flash of idea, for a chart and I am ready to sail over the smooth white main. My crew will come to me ready named, ready behavioured, and will navigate my bark for me.... All of my stories are pictures. They unroll like a cinema in colors just off my left shoulder. They move so fast my wrist aches to keep up with them. I never rewrite anything unless an editor requests it. My first draft is the only one. As you see, this is not intellectual but emotional work. I can do only a thousand words at a sitting because of the emotional strain. This seems deplorable, considering the product but it seems necessary. Like the Jap in the legend, I must mix a little blood with my clay to get any kind of pottery.”

At first, this passage would seem to say, “There’s no use trying to learn to write.” And it may be urged here that the young fiction aspirant who feels _impelled_ to create, and according to his own bent, should give his genius a full chance. Any student may glean this, however, from the words of Mrs. Pulver: Without emotion of one’s own, success is impossible.

EXTRA MEN

STARTING POINT. “Somewhere I read in the summer of 1917 a reference to a legend of either a poor saint living as a hermit or a holy abbess (I can’t really remember which) who entertained a company of horsemen one night. In the morning the field where the horses had grazed was untouched and the realization came that a troop of angels had been that way. I am sorry not to be more definite as to this source.

“Washington and the war are wholly of my own invention, and the miracle of the meadow grass became incidental as I wrote the story, which I had at first planned to call ‘The Green Meadow.’ As to the actual processes of invention I should say no one can quite explain the least important of them.”--_Harrison Rhodes._

CLASSIFICATION. On concluding “Extra Men” if a reader asks, “What is its purpose?” he will reply in substance, to his self-query: “To convey the thought that spirits of our heroic dead support the boys at the front.” Theme is dominant. “I cannot say that I believe in the supernatural or miracles,” Mr. Rhodes states, “but I believe the story of ‘Extra Men’ to be essentially and symbolically true.”

PLOT. Plot sinks, therefore, into comparative insignificance. A single incident serves to convey the truth. Whereas the miracle of the meadow grass might have been the chief event, its purpose here is rather that of a detail, substantiating the visit.

CHARACTERS. The spirit of George Washington is the main character of the incident. Since, however, it is fitting that the past be subordinated to the present (in conformity with the author’s purpose), the old lady is introduced previous to the story-action, and is, therefore, the main figure of the entire narrative.

Notice the suggestive method used in identifying the spirit of Washington--nowhere is he openly named. For example, he speaks of Arlington, “the house which once belonged to a relative of mine”; and says elsewhere, “You would not now know Valley Forge.”

Mrs. Buchan was favored with the visit not by accident. The motivation for it is unobtrusively and perhaps even unconsciously conveyed, but none the less with potence. How has the author enlisted sympathy for her.

What is the rôle of young Buchan? Is there a reason for his name--“George”?

What plot value has Al Fenton, “the farmer”?

SETTING. The scene is important, since nowhere else could the action have occurred with equal fitness. “The quaint name” of the hamlet at once calls up the historic episode of Washington crossing the Delaware.

ATMOSPHERE. The realistic mood of the story contributes to its power of conviction.

THE WAITING YEARS

CLASSIFICATION. This short-story illustrates grouping for sake of climactic effect. Events of forty years are illuminated by the happenings of a day. The narrative has both an outer and an inner action.

PLOT. The plot of the combined inner and outer story is quite simple. The _initial impulse_ consists of Mark Faraday’s interest in Miss Allison Clyde. The _dramatic climax_, if such it may be called, lies in the finding of the love-letters which his Uncle William had written and never sent to Allison. The _climax of action_ is his handing the package of letters to Allison.

The inner plot is found in the letters. The _initial impulse_ of William’s love for Allison operates until the _dramatic climax_. This dramatic climax is William’s knowledge that he must die and his feeling that he must never speak again to Allison of his passion. Up to the _climax of action_ (his death) his letters have the note of renunciation; before the dramatic climax they looked to union with the girl he adored.

The two parts are linked in William’s giving the package to Allison. Would you have been satisfied to see him read them without passing them on to her? Are you satisfied to construct your own dénouement--Allison’s emotion, etc.?

CHARACTERIZATION. Since development or deterioration of character is difficult to indicate within the compass of the short-story, this specimen shows a distinct advantage in massing the incidents near the climax. For Allison may be shown finished, perfect,--the lovely “personage,” to quote the oracle, Mrs. Herrick,--whom Mark finds. At the same time, her development is made logical by the emphasis on her youthful beauty of mind and heart as her lover saw it. Study, in the usual way, the many methods by which Mrs. Roof has made vivid her portrait. Mark’s point of view regarding her is particularly good; also, the foil, Stella, serves adequately to set her off. Observe, too, the relation she bears to her setting, her fitness for it.

Since Mark is the one through whom the reader learns the facts of the action, his mind is open to the reader’s vision. Is there too much of the artist about him, not enough of the man? Would you have him different? Is he the nephew of his uncle, from a consideration of sentiment?

What effect is produced by the names, in connection with their owners?--Mark, Stella, Allison, William?

DETAILS. What is the intensifying worth of the sundial? Of the buzzing bee? A second line of interest may be said to lie in the music theme, which intensifies the line of the love interest and Mark’s interest in Miss Allison.

Do you feel jarred or pleased by the shift to Allison’s angle (in her letter, page 204)?

Does Mark too easily come across the daguerreotype, or does the casual manner of his finding it fit into the smooth and leisurely progress of the story?

Why is the picture of Allison “standing by the tall mantle in the candle-light” one that lingers? Why does one remember the picture of Beatrix (in “Henry Esmond”) coming down the stairs in white, with cherry colored ribbons, holding the candle in her hand?

Do the letters of William strike you as having been composed by a man or a woman? Why?

ZELIG

CLASSIFICATION. “Zelig” is a character story, with decided emphasis on the character. There is just enough plot to lift it from the realm of the sketch into that of the narrative.

PLOT. The _struggle_ lies in Zelig’s attempt to save sufficient money for returning to Russia. It is unsuccessful.

What is the _initial impulse_, the first hint of a story motive?

The dramatic climax is preceded by a minor one: the death of Zelig’s son. The real turning point, the _dramatic climax_, is made up of the wife’s statements (page 224), the most important of which is the reference to the son’s death.

The _climax of action_ and the _dénouement_ fall together in the final speech of the story, being suggested rather than stated.

CHARACTERIZATION. The old man is characterized by the author’s description (the direct method, so called); by the summary of what his brethren felt and said (combination of direct and indirect methods); by the opinion his fellow-workmen held of him; and by Zelig’s own acts and speeches in addition to his habitual manner. Has he the greater part of the stage for most of the time? Purpose of his wife? Son? Grandson? Of the background characters?

SETTING. “New York’s East Side.” The second value of the story lies in the setting. Indeed, the character value would be lost without it, and the unification is therefore noteworthy. Is the setting made contributory to atmosphere, also?

DETAILS. Are you satisfied with the ending? Is the sense of tragedy at the failure of the human element striving against circumstance relieved by the recognition of Zelig’s rehabilitation, or revivification? Has he, in a deeper sense, conquered in that he has conquered self?

GENERAL METHODS. That Benjamin Rosenblatt creates his characters, not “lifting” them from life, is manifest in his statement: “As to Zelig, I really haven’t met any one just like him, so that I couldn’t have had any individual case before my mind’s eye when I wrote the story.”

THE MENORAH

STARTING POINT. “A few years ago I passed one of the congested East Side streets just when a fire broke out in one of the tenements. I saw climbing down the fire escapes of the burning building a very old Jewess dragging some of her belongings with her. Among these belongings was a pair of old-fashioned, common-place candlesticks used for ‘Sabbath blessing.’ That started me on the way to ‘The Menorah.’”--_Benjamin Rosenblatt._

CLASSIFICATION. “The Menorah” offers itself as a fit companion-piece to “Zelig.” In the latter, the setting is New York, the character is an old man, the struggle is successfully unsuccessful. In this, the setting is “a little town in Russia,” the chief character is an old woman, the struggle is successfully unsuccessful. It is to be remarked that the two settings are equally well-known to Mr. Rosenblatt.

PLOT. The _struggle_ is on Lea’s part to preserve appearances in her rapidly deteriorating circumstances, to find a match for her daughter, and to keep the Menorah. The last is the most important. Although she fails, she does so in a way to relieve the reader’s distress at her failing.

A _minor climax_ is in the death of the younger girl.

The _dramatic climax_ is the securing of the proper young man as bridegroom for her daughter.

With the dramatic climax is bound up the _climax of action_ (of the largest struggle): the Menorah must be sold.

CHARACTERIZATION. The story is told, as was “Zelig,” from the omniscient author’s point of view with the omniscience exercised over the chief character. Study the portrayal of Lea, as you were recommended to study that of Zelig. What is the purpose of Reb Schloime? Compare him with “Paw” Haynes in “The Path of Glory” as to his function.

DETAILS. These two stories by Benjamin Rosenblatt perform a service for the Jewish people, in rationalizing the desire for money, a desire about which volumes have been written. It is to be observed in these narratives that the possession of worldly treasure in each case is secondary to another ideal. In Lea’s case it is her love for her ancestors and their glory joined to a sensitiveness at the fall in her worldly station. What is the primary ideal in “Zelig”?

What clue to the disposal of the candelabrum occurs earlier in the narrative?