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robert louis stevenson-第22章

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orced now to see it; and to acknowledge it for  him。



CHAPTER XVII … PROOFS OF GROWTH



Once again I quote Goethe:

〃Natural simplicity and repose are the acme of art; and hence it  follows no youth can be a master。〃  It has to be confessed that  seldom; if ever; does Stevenson naturally and by sheer enthusiasm  for subject and characters attain this natural simplicity; if he  often attained the counterfeit presentment … artistic and graceful  euphony; and new; subtle; and often unexpected concatenations of  phrase。  Style is much; but it is not everything。  We often love  Scott the more that he shows loosenesses and lapses here; for; in  spite of them; he gains natural simplicity; while not seldom  Stevenson; with all his art and fine sense of verbal music; rather  misses it。  THE SEDULOUS APE sometimes disenchants as well as  charms; for occasionally a word; a touch; a turn; sends us off too  directly in search of the model; and this operates against the  interest as introducing a new and alien series of associations;  where; for full effect; it should not be so。  And this distraction  will be the more insistent; the more knowledge the reader has and  the more he remembers; and since Stevenson's first appeal; both by  his spirit and his methods; is to the cultured and well read;  rather than to the great mass; his 〃sedulous apehood〃 only the more  directly wars against him as regards deep; continuous; and lasting  impression; where he should be most simple; natural and  spontaneous; he also is most artificial and involved。  If the  story…writer is not so much in earnest; not so possessed by his  matter that this is allowed to him; how is it to be hoped that we  shall be possessed in the reading of it?  More than once in  CATRIONA we must own we had this experience; directly warring  against full possession by the story; and certain passages about  Simon Lovat were especially marked by this; if even the first  introduction to Catriona herself was not so。  As for Miss Barbara  Grant; of whom so much has been made by many admirers; she is  decidedly clever; indeed too clever by half; and yet her doom is to  be a mere DEUS EX MACHINA; and never do more than just pay a little  tribute to Stevenson's own power of PERSIFLAGE; or; if you like; to  pay a penalty; poor lass; for the too perfect doing of hat; and  really; really; I could not help saying this much; though; I do  believe that she deserved just a wee bit better fate than that。

But we have proofs of great growth; and nowhere are they greater  than at the very close。  Stevenson died young:  in some phases he  was but a youth to the last。  To a true critic then; the problem  is; having already attained so much … a grand style; grasp of a  limited group of characters; with fancy; sincerity; and  imagination; … what would Stevenson have attained in another ten  years had such been but allotted him?  It has over and over again  been said that; for long he SHIED presenting women altogether。   This is not quite true:  THRAWN JANET was an earlier effort; and if  there the problem is persistent; the woman is real。  Here also he  was on the right road … the advance road。  The sex…question was  coming forward as inevitably a part of life; and could not be left  out in any broad and true picture。  This element was effectively  revived in WEIR OF HERMISTON; and 〃Weir〃 has been well said to be  sadder; if it does not go deeper than DENIS DUVAL or EDWIN DROOD。   We know what Dickens and Thackeray could do there; we can but guess  now what Stevenson would have done。  〃Weir〃 is but a fragment; but;  to a wisely critical and unprejudiced mind; it suffices to show not  only what the complete work would have been; but what would have  inevitably followed it。  It shows the turning…point; and the way  that was to be followed at the cross…roads … the way into a bigger;  realer; grander world; where realism; freed from the dream; and  fancy; and prejudice of youth; would glory in achieving the more  enduring romance of manhood; maturity and humanity。

Yes; there was growth … undoubted growth。  The questioning and  severely moral element mainly due to the Shorter Catechism … the  tendency to casuistry; and to problems; and wistful introspection …  which had so coloured Stevenson's art up to the date of THE MASTER  OF BALLANTRAE; and made him a great essayist; was passing in the  satisfaction of assured insight into life itself。  The art would  gradually have been transformed also。  The problem; pure and  simple; would have been subdued in face of the great facts of life;  if not lost; swallowed up in the grandeur; pathos; and awe of the  tragedy clearly realised and presented。



CHAPTER XVIII … EARLIER DETERMINATIONS AND RESULTS



STEVENSON'S earlier determination was so distinctly to the  symbolic; the parabolic; allegoric; dreamy and mystical … to  treatment of the world as an array of weird or half…fanciful  existences; witnessing only to certain dim spiritual facts or  abstract moralities; occasionally inverted moralities … 〃tail  foremost moralities〃 as later he himself named them … that a strong  Celtic strain in him had been detected and dwelt on by acute  critics long before any attention had been given to his genealogy  on both sides of the house。  The strong Celtic strain is now amply  attested by many researches。  Such phantasies as THE HOUSE OF ELD;  THE TOUCHSTONE; THE POOR THING; and THE SONG OF THE MORROW;  published along with some fables at the end of an edition of DR  JEKYLL AND MR HYDE; by Longman's; I think; in 1896; tell to the  initiated as forcibly as anything could tell of the presence of  this element; as though moonshine; disguising and transfiguring;  was laid over all real things and the secret of the world and life  was in its glamour:  the shimmering and soft shading rendering all  outlines indeterminate; though a great idea is felt to be present  in the mind of the author; for which he works。  The man who would  say there is no feeling for symbol … no phantasy or Celtic glamour  in these weird; puzzling; and yet on all sides suggestive tales  would thereby be declared inept; inefficient … blind to certain  qualities that lie near to grandeur in fanciful literature; or the  literature of phantasy; more properly。

This power in weird and playful phantasy is accompanied with the  gift of impersonating or embodying mere abstract qualities or  tendencies in characters。  The little early sketch written in June  1875; titled GOOD CONTENT; well illustrates this:


〃Pleasure goes by piping:  Hope unfurls his purple flag; and meek  Content follows them on a snow…white ass。  Here; the broad sunlight  falls on open ways and goodly countries; here; stage by stage;  pleasant old towns and hamlets border the road; now with high sign… poles; now with high minster spires; the lanes go burrowing under  blossomed banks; green meadows; and deep woods encompass them  about; from wood to wood flock the glad birds; the vane turns in  the variable wind; and as I journey with Hope and Pleasure; and  quite a company of jolly personifications; who but the lady I love  is by my side; and walks with her slim hand upon my arm?

〃Suddenly; at a corner; something beckons; a phantom finger…post; a  will o' the wisp; a foolish challenge writ in big letters on a  brand。  And twisting his red moustaches; braggadocio Virtue takes  the perilous way where dim rain falls ever; and sad winds sigh。   And after him; on his white ass; follows simpering Content。

〃Ever since I walk behind these two in the rain。  Virtue is all a… cold; limp are his curling feather and fierce moustache。  Sore  besmirched; on his jackass; follows Content。〃


The record; entitled SUNDAY THOUGHTS; which is dated some five days  earlier is naive and most characteristic; touched with the  phantastic moralities and suggestions already indicated in every  sentence; and rises to the fine climax in this respect at the  close。


〃A plague o' these Sundays!  How the church bells ring up the  sleeping past!  I cannot go in to sermon:  memories ache too hard;  and so I hide out under the blue heavens; beside the small kirk  whelmed in leaves。  Tittering country girls see me as I go past  from where they sit in the pews; and through the open door comes  the loud psalm and the fervent solitary voice of the preacher。  To  and fro I wander among the graves; and now look over one side of  the platform and see the sunlit meadow where the grown lambs go  bleating and the ewes lie in the shadow under their heaped fleeces;  and now over the other; where the rhododendrons flower fair among  the chestnut boles; and far overhead the chestnut lifts its thick  leaves and spiry blossom into the dark…blue air。  Oh; the height  and depth and thickness of the chestnut foliage!  Oh; to have wings  like a dove; and dwell in the tree's green heart!

。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。

〃A plague o' these Sundays!  How the Church bells ring up the  sleeping past!  Here has a maddening memory broken into my brain。   To the door; to the door; with the naked lunatic thought!  Once it  is forth we may talk of what we dare not entertain; once the  intriguing thought has been put to the door I can watch it out of  the loophole where; with its fellows; it 
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