爱爱小说网 > 其他电子书 > lay morals >

第23章

lay morals-第23章

小说: lay morals 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!



ing; that makes the  reader's indignation very white…hot against some one。  It  remains to be seen who that some one is to be: the fly?  Nay;  but on closer inspection; it appears that the fly; actuated  by maternal instinct; was only seeking a place for her eggs:  is maternal instinct; then; 'sole author of these mischiefs  all'?  'Who's in the Right?' one of the best fables in the  book; is somewhat in the same vein。  After a battle has been  won; a group of officers assemble inside a battery; and  debate together who should have the honour of the success;  the Prince; the general staff; the cavalry; the engineer who  posted the battery in which they then stand talking; are  successively named: the sergeant; who pointed the guns;  sneers to himself at the mention of the engineer; and; close  by; the gunner; who had applied the match; passes away with a  smile of triumph; since it was through his hand that the  victorious blow had been dealt。  Meanwhile; the cannon claims  the honour over the gunner; the cannon…ball; who actually  goes forth on the dread mission; claims it over the cannon;  who remains idly behind; the powder reminds the cannon…ball  that; but for him; it would still be lying on the arsenal  floor; and the match caps the discussion; powder; cannon… ball; and cannon would be all equally vain and ineffectual  without fire。  Just then there comes on a shower of rain;  which wets the powder and puts out the match; and completes  this lesson of dependence; by indicating the negative  conditions which are as necessary for any effect; in their  absence; as is the presence of this great fraternity of  positive conditions; not any one of which can claim priority  over any other。  But the fable does not end here; as perhaps;  in all logical strictness; it should。  It wanders off into a  discussion as to which is the truer greatness; that of the  vanquished fire or that of the victorious rain。  And the  speech of the rain is charming:


'Lo; with my little drops I bless again And beautify the fields which thou didst blast! Rend; wither; waste; and ruin; what thou wilt; But call not Greatness what the Gods call Guilt。 Blossoms and grass from blood in battle spilt; And poppied corn; I bring。 'Mid mouldering Babels; to oblivion built; My violets spring。 Little by little my small drops have strength To deck with green delights the grateful earth。'


And so forth; not quite germane (it seems to me) to the  matter in hand; but welcome for its own sake。

Best of all are the fables that deal more immediately with  the emotions。  There is; for instance; that of 'The Two  Travellers;' which is profoundly moving in conception;  although by no means as well written as some others。  In  this; one of the two; fearfully frost…bitten; saves his life  out of the snow at the cost of all that was comely in his  body; just as; long before; the other; who has now quietly  resigned himself to death; had violently freed himself from  Love at the cost of all that was finest and fairest in his  character。  Very graceful and sweet is the fable (if so it  should be called) in which the author sings the praises of  that 'kindly perspective;' which lets a wheat…stalk near the  eye cover twenty leagues of distant country; and makes the  humble circle about a man's hearth more to him than all the  possibilities of the external world。  The companion fable to  this is also excellent。  It tells us of a man who had; all  his life through; entertained a passion for certain blue  hills on the far horizon; and had promised himself to travel  thither ere he died; and become familiar with these distant  friends。  At last; in some political trouble; he is banished  to the very place of his dreams。  He arrives there overnight;  and; when he rises and goes forth in the morning; there sure  enough are the blue hills; only now they have changed places  with him; and smile across to him; distant as ever; from the  old home whence he has come。  Such a story might have been  very cynically treated; but it is not so done; the whole tone  is kindly and consolatory; and the disenchanted man  submissively takes the lesson; and understands that things  far away are to be loved for their own sake; and that the  unattainable is not truly unattainable; when we can make the  beauty of it our own。  Indeed; throughout all these two  volumes; though there is much practical scepticism; and much  irony on abstract questions; this kindly and consolatory  spirit is never absent。  There is much that is cheerful and;  after a sedate; fireside fashion; hopeful。  No one will be  discouraged by reading the book; but the ground of all this  hopefulness and cheerfulness remains to the end somewhat  vague。  It does not seem to arise from any practical belief  in the future either of the individual or the race; but  rather from the profound personal contentment of the writer。   This is; I suppose; all we must look for in the case。  It is  as much as we can expect; if the fabulist shall prove a  shrewd and cheerful fellow…wayfarer; one with whom the world  does not seem to have gone much amiss; but who has yet  laughingly learned something of its evil。  It will depend  much; of course; upon our own character and circumstances;  whether the encounter will be agreeable and bracing to the  spirits; or offend us as an ill…timed mockery。  But where; as  here; there is a little tincture of bitterness along with the  good…nature; where it is plainly not the humour of a man  cheerfully ignorant; but of one who looks on; tolerant and  superior and smilingly attentive; upon the good and bad of  our existence; it will go hardly if we do not catch some  reflection of the same spirit to help us on our way。  There  is here no impertinent and lying proclamation of peace … none  of the cheap optimism of the well…to…do; what we find here is  a view of life that would be even grievous; were it not  enlivened with this abiding cheerfulness; and ever and anon  redeemed by a stroke of pathos。

It is natural enough; I suppose; that we should find wanting  in this book some of the intenser qualities of the author's  work; and their absence is made up for by much happy  description after a quieter fashion。  The burst of jubilation  over the departure of the snow; which forms the prelude to  'The Thistle;' is full of spirit and of pleasant images。  The  speech of the forest in 'Sans Souci' is inspired by a  beautiful sentiment for nature of the modern sort; and  pleases us more; I think; as poetry should please us; than  anything in CHRONICLES AND CHARACTERS。  There are some  admirable felicities of expression here and there; as that of  the hill; whose summit

'Did print The azure air with pines。'


Moreover; I do not recollect in the author's former work any  symptom of that sympathetic treatment of still life; which is  noticeable now and again in the fables; and perhaps most  noticeably; when he sketches the burned letters as they hover  along the gusty flue; 'Thin; sable veils; wherein a restless  spark Yet trembled。'  But the description is at its best when  the subjects are unpleasant; or even grisly。  There are a few  capital lines in this key on the last spasm of the battle  before alluded to。  Surely nothing could be better; in its  own way; than the fish in 'The Last Cruise of the Arrogant;'  'the shadowy; side…faced; silent things;' that come butting  and staring with lidless eyes at the sunken steam…engine。   And although; in yet another; we are told; pleasantly enough;  how the water went down into the valleys; where it set itself  gaily to saw wood; and on into the plains; where it would  soberly carry grain to town; yet the real strength of the  fable is when it dealt with the shut pool in which certain  unfortunate raindrops are imprisoned among slugs and snails;  and in the company of an old toad。  The sodden contentment of  the fallen acorn is strangely significant; and it is  astonishing how unpleasantly we are startled by the  appearance of her horrible lover; the maggot。

And now for a last word; about the style。  This is not easy  to criticise。  It is impossible to deny to it rapidity;  spirit; and a full sound; the lines are never lame; and the  sense is carried forward with an uninterrupted; impetuous  rush。  But it is not equal。  After passages of really  admirable versification; the author falls back upon a sort of  loose; cavalry manner; not unlike the style of some of Mr。  Browning's minor pieces; and almost inseparable from  wordiness; and an easy acceptation of somewhat cheap finish。   There is nothing here of that compression which is the note  of a really sovereign style。  It is unfair; perhaps; to set a  not remarkable passage from Lord Lytton side by side with one  of the signal masterpieces of another; and a very perfect  poet; and yet it is interesting; when we see how the  portraiture of a dog; detailed through thirty odd lines; is  frittered down and finally almost lost in the mere laxity of  the style; to compare it with the clear; simple; vigorous  delineation that Burns; in four couplets; has given us of the  ploughman's collie。  It is interesting; at first; and then it  becomes a little irritating; for when we think of other  passages so much more finished and adroit; we cannot help  feeling; that with a little more ardour after perfection of  form; criticism would have found nothing left for her to  censure。  A similar mark of precipitate work is the number of  adjectives tumultuously heaped together; sometimes to help  out the sense; and sometimes (as one cannot but suspect) to  help out the sound of the verses。  I do not believe; for  instance; that Lord Lytton himself would defend the lines in  which we are told how Laocoon 'Revealed to Roman crowds; now  CHRISTIAN grown; That PAGAN anguish which; in PARIAN stone;  The RHODIAN artist;' and so on。  It is not only that this is  bad in itself; but that it is unworthy of the company in  which it is found; that such verses should not have appeared  with the name of a good versifier like Lord Lytton。  We must  take exception; also; in conclusion; to the excess of  alliteration。  Alliteration is so liable to be abused that we  can scarcely be too sparing of it; and yet it is a trick that  seems to grow upon the author with years。  It is a pity to  see fine verses; such as some in 'Demos;' absolutely spoiled  by the recurrence of one wearisome consonant。



CRITICISMS CHAPTER II … SALVINI'S MACBETH




SALVINI closed his short visit to Edinburgh by a performance  of MACBETH。  It was; perhaps; from a sentiment of local  colour that he chose to play the Scottish usurper for the  first time before Scotsmen; and the audience were not  insensible of the privilege。  Few things; indeed; can move a  stronger interest than to see a great creation taking shape  for the first time。  If it is not purely artistic; the  sentiment is surely human。  And the thought that you are  before all the world; and have the start of so many others as  eager as yourself; at least keeps you in a more unbearable  suspense before the curtain rises; if it does not enhance the  delight with which you follow the performance and see the  actor 'bend up each corporal agent' to realise a masterpiece  of a few hours' duration。  With a player so variable as  Sa

返回目录 上一页 下一页 回到顶部 1 1

你可能喜欢的