Part 14

Hallett replies that this desire is nightmare.--“The only thing to beat a vision black as midnight is a vision white as the noonday sun.” He eventually gives the possible vision,--symbolized earlier by his words, “There’s a bright star, doctor,”--in the thin-worn word, “Democracy.” He declares that such an impossible Utopia must come--or “Hamburg to Bagdad.” As the doctor declares that this wild empire of the spirit is impossible and Hallett agrees, cryptically, that it is impossible, the watch cries “All’s well.” Hallett then says we may do the impossible, after all; in all the world is nothing but the sound of the barricades of revolution. He sees the star, as he has seen it in the beginning of the dialogue.

The argument thus becomes an optimistic prophecy of the final vision of the Allies. At Thanksgiving, 1918, the impossible seems about to be realized: Hallett was essentially right, in his point of view.

The sick man, one who probably dying is assumedly close to the spirit-world, is well-balanced by the material physician, representing the earth-spirit.

Besides suggesting a nexus between America and the fighting Allies, the homeward bound vessel affords from its deck, quite naturally, the view of the star, which becomes symbolically useful; and, further, the cry of the watch, “All’s well,” which also conveys a deeper meaning.

* * * * *

The story should be read as the counterpart of Virgil Jordan’s “Vengeance is Mine.” (See page 119.)

THE BIRD OF SERBIA

STARTING POINT. In “The Bird of Serbia,” Mr. Street desired to say through the medium of fiction a certain thing. “Perhaps I wanted to say: ‘Nothing is so small or so nasty that it can not be made to serve an autocratic ruler in carrying out his designs.’ So, then, I took as my symbol for smallness and nastiness, the louse. And then I set out to prove that lice could serve the autocrat who wished to start a war. I wanted to show how very true that theory is, and I should say that the quality of truth in that story--the convincingness of it--is the best thing about it.”--_Julian Street._

PLOT.

_Initial Impulses_, giving rise to the struggle and the complication.--

Gavrilo Prinzip, a subject of Austro-Hungary, living in Sarajevo, Bosnia, is a Serb by descent and nature. The revolutionary spirit he displays at an early age gives evidence of his passionate racial feeling. In 1913, at the age of eighteen, he is betrothed to Mara. The two are devoted to each other, but Mara resents Gavrilo’s constant ideal of a free Serb race. She is, perhaps, “jealous of a people.”

_Steps toward the Dramatic Climax_: Sarajevo plans to have on June 28, Kossovo Day, a celebration greater than usual because of Serbian independence gained in the two preceding years of the Balkan War. A few days before, Mara’s relative, a former supposed rival of Gavrilo, gives her a black song bird--a _kos_. Gavrilo begs her to release the bird. She feels that she will be giving up her own character to free it, and persists in keeping it caged. She is confirmed in her stubbornness through the advice of her relative. The Serbian festival is forbidden; attempts to commemorate the anniversary will result in arrest. Austrian manoeuvres will take place, instead. The Archduke will appear, in spite of advice to the contrary. It is clear that a plot is brewing. Gavrilo has promised, however, not to participate in anything violent so long as Mara loves him. She assures him of her love, whereupon he asks her again, to set the _kos_ free.

_Minor Climax_: She refuses. The _kos_ has become a symbol for both. Mara in releasing it would surrender her will power; Gavrilo releasing it would see an emblem of freedom for all Serbs.

Gavrilo engages in the plot, but remembering his promise he refuses to “participate in certain matters.” He and Mara are happy so long as the bird is not mentioned. When he puts leaves into the cage, however, Mara begs him not to do so; she fears they are poisonous, as the bird is growing weaker. Gavrilo insists that captivity is killing it.

_Dramatic Climax_: On the evening of June 27, the bird dies. “It was not a dead bird that I saw, but a climax in a parable.”

_Steps toward the Climax of Action_: Gavrilo and Mara, filled with emotion, dispute over the cause of death. Mara insists that the bird man must determine the cause, and affects to believe that Gavrilo has poisoned it. He runs from the garden, frantic. The bird man comes; he points out the lice. Mara sends for Gavrilo. He cannot be found. The Archduke, his wife, and their suite arrive.

_Climax of Action_: On the morning of June 28, Gavrilo shoots the Archduke and the Archduchess as they ride through the streets of Sarajevo.

_Dénouement_: Gavrilo dies, four years later, in prison.

The struggle, then, is one of wills--Gavrilo’s against Mara’s. The two lines of interest forming the complication are 1st, the love story of Gavrilo and Mara; 2nd, the relations between Serbians and Austria. This complication begins with the initial impulse of the story and finds its solution only with the climax of action.

Examples of good craftsmanship in details are 1st, making Gavrilo a good shot, and at the same time introducing the bird _motif_; 2nd, strengthening Mara’s will and antagonizing Gavrilo by the cousin, who is introduced with the first mention of Gavrilo’s love affair. Point out other instances of plot finish.

PRESENTATION. The story, as told by a man in a smoking-car, is immediately and logically motivated by the newspaper account of Gavrilo Prinzip’s death. The dénouement, therefore, is presented first, though it appears from the conclusion that the narrator’s fellow-travelers do not recognize this fact until the series of events comes full circle.

In connection with the plot, notice how the narrator is bound up with it. What advantages do you find in the author’s presenting the story in the rehearsed, rather than in the dramatic way? “In order to show what I was driving at,” says Mr. Street, “it was necessary for me to use the form of the inner, related story--a form which is always awkward, but which sometimes succeeds in spite of its awkwardness, for the reason that the reader becomes so absorbed in the inner story that he forgets that an individual is supposed to be speaking, and that, too often, that individual is talking like a book, rather than a human being, let alone an easy raconteur.

“My story, ‘The Bird of Serbia,’ is not without this fault. The man who sits in the smoking-room of a Pullman car and relates the inner tale, would not, in actual life, have spoken altogether as I made him speak. To that extent, then, the story is imperfect; but this imperfection is not likely to be noticed by the average reader, because it is not sufficiently glaring to remind him that the man in the smoking-room is supposed to be talking all the while.”

CHARACTERIZATION. What traits in the chief actors are most conspicuous? Are they “played up” convincingly and economically? What value have the background characters--the mother of Gavrilo, for example? What points of the Austrian character are noted, because of which sympathy is diverted from the Archduke?

Is the narrator of Gavrilo’s story, the man in the smoking-car, a minor character or a disinterested chronicler of the events he followed so minutely and accurately?

SETTING. Notice that Mr. Street restrains his narrator from _stating_ the name of the place, Sarajevo, until near the conclusion. Does its reserve increase the final effect? What details indicate the author’s familiarity with local conditions, customs, dress, and language? To what end do these local color data contribute?

DETAILS. What clue do you find in the narrator’s statement about the “microscopic unclean forces of which historians will never know”?

Do you regard the ending as one of “surprise”? If so, is it calculated as such, or rather a chance offshoot of what was intended, rather, as a strong closing sentence?

On the subject of story writing in general, Mr. Street makes a valuable observation:

“It seems to me that there is a tendency, in discussing the art of short story writing, to confuse manner and matter, and to conclude that the story with a big, sombre theme must necessarily be superior, as a work of art, to the story which is lighter in subject and treatment. When I say ‘light’ I do not mean frivolous or false. De Maupassant, Leonard Merrick, and O. Henry have taught us better than that. A story can have the quality of truth, and can be rich in character and observation, yet be done with splendid deftness of touch--and oftentimes this very deftness, which we so seldom see in a story, is regarded too lightly by critics. It is much as though we were to insist that the wood-chopper has greater skill than the tight-rope walker, valuing the heavy strokes of the one more highly than the poise and adeptness of the other. A light touch in a story often suggests that it has been produced with ease; and a light step on the tight-rope suggests the same thing; but when we see a man swinging a heavy axe at a huge tree trunk, breathing hard and sweating, we readily perceive that he is doing real work. Hard work. I do not dispute that there may be certain lumber-jacks who handle the two-edged axe with a practiced skill rivaling or, perhaps, even surpassing the skill of a fair tight-rope walker; but neither do I hold with those who see art only where there is sweat and smell and swearing.”

THE BOUNTY JUMPER

OPENING SITUATION. James Thorold, of Chicago, has just been appointed ambassador to Forsland. Isador Framberg has fallen at Vera Cruz. Thorold is making his way to the station to meet his son, Peter, who comes on the same train that brings the body of Framberg.

The _initial incident_, then, of the complete story is the meeting of father and son.

_Brief steps in action._--The two pay their respects to Framberg’s remains, at City Hall. This becomes the _motivation_ for the story Thorold tells his son and for his giving up the appointment. (See final paragraph.)

PLOT OF INNER STORY.

_Initial Incidents_: Thorold had taken “bounty money,” which was offered to any one who joined the Nineteenth Regiment at a specified time.

_Dramatic Climax_: “I slipped past the lines.”... “I was a bounty-jumper.”

_Climax of Action_: Thorold’s promise to God and to Lincoln that he would atone for the faith he had broken.

_Dénouement_ (of enveloping action as aided by inner narrative):

Thorold relinquishes the Forsland Embassy. This act, joined to the confession, forms the expiation. In one sense, the whole rehearsed story may be said to constitute the dénouement of Thorold’s life-long struggle.

CHARACTERIZATION. Thorold is the chief figure, emphasized from beginning to end by the author’s comment, by his own recollections, by his son’s remarks to him, and by his own confession. The _struggle_ is Thorold’s. What aspects has it?

The second figure is Framberg--dead. He is the _cause_ of the immediate phase of the long struggle, the climactic phase. He is the contrasting element, the heroic young man, even an alien by birth, who was nevertheless a better American than Thorold. (Notice the information given, page 262, about his foreign birth.) Through whom does the reader get most of the information about Isador?

The third figure is Peter, a foil of another sort for his father. He is the judge. “Our children are always our ultimate judges”--page 268. Is Peter, at any point, inconsistent with your concept of a sixteen year old boy? How do you account for the fact, with respect to authorship and artistic purpose of the author? Are his personality and influence, joined to that of Framberg’s, strong enough for the motivating force? That is, would Thorold have told his story? Would he have given up the ambassadorship?

SETTING, ETC. The narrator brings together in an apparently easy yet powerful way in a tempo suited to the happenings in real life the forces of half a century. (Compare with this management that in “The Waiting Years.”) The action occurs within a single morning. Chicago is kept before the reader by numerous references. The magnitude of the narrative is increased by the spirit of Lincoln; the poignancy of sentiment by the lilac fragrance, the picture of the hearse, the reminiscence of the dead Lincoln.

PRESENTATION. How consistently does the author keep to the mind of Thorold in exercising her power of omniscience? When she shifts to the boy’s mind, do you feel a break in the unity? What alleviating circumstances help to preserve the unity?

ATMOSPHERE. The tone is restrained, sad from the inner failure of the man who has known worldly success; yet it is hopeful in the spiritual outcome of the struggle and in the promise of the young boy Peter. Is it character or setting which, in this story, contributes most to atmosphere?

NONE SO BLIND

CLASSIFICATION. A story of situation, suggesting numerous small struggles. (See below.) It is a remarkable example of the _multum in parvo_ management required of the short-story. The action requires a brief part of one day.

PLOT. The _impulse_ of the action lies in the telephone message announcing Bessie Lowe’s death.

The _dramatic climax_ is in Dick’s perjury: his declaration that Bessie Lowe was the girl _he_ had cared for.

The _climax of action_ lies in the narrator’s discovery that Standish--not Dick--had been Bessie’s lover.

The _dénouement_ is the narrator’s “poisoned arrow” flash of light that Dick had loved Leila and had sacrificed his own fiancée to the hurt to save Leila’s feelings. With the recognition dawns the realization that she and Dick must go their ways.

Struggle moments suggested are: 1. In the heart of Standish. Shall he confess to his wife? 2. In the heart of Dick. Shall he sacrifice his fiancée to save Leila’s feelings? 3. On Leila’s part. Shall she indicate that she knows Dick is lying? 4. On the part of the narrator. What shall she do about it? In each case, the outcome arrives with celerity, and love is the ruling motive in each struggle. The decision, as affected by love, testifies to the character of each person.

CHARACTERIZATION. Is each character so described, and does he show such action and interaction as to make logical the behavior in the particular struggle? Must the reader accept any one of the decisions on faith alone?

SETTING. What is it? Has it particular contributory value, or might the locale have been, say, New York? How is it integrated with atmosphere and action? (See, e.g., page 468, “Through the purpling twilight of that St. John’s eve.”)

DETAILS. How might the narrator have hoodwinked herself as to Dick’s motive? How might Dick have explained so as either 1. to satisfy the narrator, or 2. to leave her--and the reader--in doubt? Which of the three choices would have been cheapest and easiest? Which would have destroyed, altogether, the individuality of the story?

Study the sound effects, beginning in the very first paragraph; Is there a suggestion of disturbed harmonies, in a spiritual sense? Notice that the sounds suggest the entire London background against which the individual tragedy stands out, etched in a few lines.

What value have the poetic passages which Miss Synon is fond of introducing into her stories? Do they seem to be external, or have they been made an essentially vital part of the whole?

What does lavender, at the close, signify?

Wherein lies the deepest pathos of the story? How is it conveyed--by notice or neglect or by a happy restraint?

HALF-PAST TEN

CLASSIFICATION. As a short-story of situation, this narrative achieves that concentration found in Barrie’s “Half Hour” Plays. It may be studied as all the preceding examples have been studied, but attention is called to

SKILL IN PRESENTATION.

1. In the suspense, (a) the reader senses a tragedy, but has not all the details until the end of the first seven or eight hundred words, (b) the reader waits the news of Jim’s death.

2. In the new rise of interest after Al’s announcement, “All over.”

3. In depicting the characters almost wholly through acts and speeches.

4. In satisfying the reader. Jim died for a crime committed by another, but he seems to have deserved death on general principles. Again, the surviving family have the poor knowledge and consolation that he was immediately innocent.

5. In the objective method (already suggested under 3) which conveys directly the grim tragedy and sordid realism.

A slip in the method is found in the fact that the mind of the child is invaded once or twice. It would seem that at the beginning the author meant to present the whole tragedy from the point of view of Rhoda, who would not comprehend it all, of course, and would therefore serve a purpose similar to that of the thirteen year old boy in “Ching, Ching, Chinaman.” But either the task proved too difficult, or the author changed her purpose, without the revision which would have given perfection to the method. (See, _e.g._, page 349, “Rhoda took stock of them....” This illustrates her “angle” or the author’s exercise of omniscience over her baby mentality.)

AT ISHAM’S

Setting and idea overbalance plot and characterization in this story, which hardly concerns itself with narrative form. True, it supports--rather than is supported by--an embryonic plot; and, true, the plot is marked by a struggle element in the guise of antagonism between two men. But the author is interested in his question and in the debate.

The starting point of the argument is this query, propounded by Norvel, at Isham’s restaurant: “If Mars is inhabited by a race so similar to ourselves, what means of communication between us is there so unmistakably of _human origin_ that a sight of it or a sound from it would unmistakably convince them of our relationship?”

As suggestion after suggestion is dismissed, it seems to be clear that nature can imitate everything. Then Savelle declares that man can only imitate nature. Philbin retorts: “That’s contrary to every teaching of Christ you ever raved about.” Philbin goes away. Savelle continues to maintain that all that is human is imitation.

Then comes the great war. Philbin returns to Isham’s after five years, in the second of the world conflict. Depressed, old, and distrait, he announces that he has lost his son. He produces the bronze cross, bestowed upon his son for saving the lives of two fishmongers. Young Philbin was going back for the third when he was killed.

Norvel asks what part of nature Mr. Philbin was then imitating.

Savelle affirms, “It is the divine phenomenon of Calvary.” But Philbin replies, “When my son was alive, he was a man. I believe he, too, died like a man. I prefer that to an imitation of anything--even God.”

There is, then, no outcome; for the conclusion but emphasizes, further, the two separate views. A larger truth is conveyed, however, which as if incidentally usurps the end to which the story seems headed. It is this: Sacrifice of life for a weaker brother is either Godlike or manlike. With this dawning thesis in mind, the reader recognizes that Mr. Venable has answered emphatically the question set up in such stories as “Greater Love--” and “The Knight’s Move.” (See page 75.)

Are the views of Philbin and Savelle, in the end, the same each held at the beginning?

DE VILMARTE’S LUCK

PLOT.

_Circumstances Antecedent to the Main Action_: Hazelton, who cannot sell his “blond” canvasses, paints “La Guigne Noire,” a study in dark. He is immediately approved by the public. After three years he has ceased exposing pictures of his earlier and better manner.

_Initial Incident_: While he is engaged on “Le Mal du Ventre,” he meets Raoul de Vilmarte, an inferior artist but gentleman of means. The latter admires the former work, and insists that Hazelton should claim his position as the apostle of light. Hazelton suggests that another signature might bring recognition. De Vilmarte lightly offers his name.

_Steps toward the Dramatic Climax_: He signs a Hazelton picture, which is immediately accepted and acclaimed. The two artists decide to keep the secret, as the best way out of what has become an awkward situation. Hazelton decides to go on with his “darker” method. Some months later the two men make another bargain--De Vilmarte buys a painting of Hazelton. The traffic continues, whenever De Vilmarte needs a picture or Hazelton needs money. (Notice the motivation for the needs.) Hazelton, having transferred his affection to his second manner, feels a mad sense of rivalry. On the occasion of the next exhibition De Vilmarte wins the second medal. Hazelton has only one picture on the line. Raoul is sorry; Hazelton says the thing must stop. But now De Vilmarte’s mother urges a private exhibition. Hazelton bargains once more, but with the statement that one of the four must die--he, his wife, De Vilmarte, or De Vilmarte’s mother.--“There is death in our little drama.” De Vilmarte falls in love; his agony increases. Hazelton paints an unusually fine picture. Raoul signs it but declares that it is the end; he has defiled himself too long.

_Dramatic Climax_: The supposed artist receives the Legion of Honor. Mme. de Vilmarte comments on the resemblance between her son’s “work” and Hazelton’s, “as though you were two halves of a whole, a day and night.” Hazelton gives up his thought of exposing De Vilmarte.

_Steps toward the Climax of Action_: The struggle continues; Hazelton, at intervals, threatens De Vilmarte; the latter plans to kill Hazelton, then himself. But he decides to wait until his mother dies. Affairs have reached this state when war breaks out, and France claims both artists. Hazelton writes to Raoul that he must not fear for his mother, if he comes to harm. Both are engaged for some time in fighting.

_Climax of Action_: Wounded, they meet in a hospital. Hazelton learns that De Vilmarte’s right hand is injured; he dies in an ironic burst of laughter that Raoul’s luck holds to the end.

The details of plot are presented chronologically, from the omniscient author’s point of view. Do you see any value in the author’s exercising omniscience over the mind of first one character then the other? Would the story gain if she had invaded only Raoul’s mind? Hazelton’s?

CHARACTERS. In Hazelton, the dominant character, Mrs. Vorse presents an interesting study of dual personality. She gains the reader’s sympathy for him chiefly by showing that his better nature, as revealed in his “first manner,” lacked appreciation from the artistic world. He was, in a measure, forced to rely upon his “second” or “darker” manner. In this respect the narrative offers a novel divergence from other stories of the type. At the same time, the contrasting features in the man’s physical appearance, in his craftsmanship, and in his behavior toward De Vilmarte testify to the indubitable presence of light and shade in his intrinsic make-up.

De Vilmarte is only a foil, but sufficiently vitalized to share, proportionately, the reader’s interest.

SETTING. Nowhere except in France could the development of events be so easily compassed. From the salon of the beginning to the hospital at the close, the setting is an integral part of the story.

THE WHITE BATTALION

STARTING POINT. “It was in those intolerable days of 1917 when Russia had fallen away and America seemed perilously unready; when German intrigue helped by treachery behind the allied lines in France, England and Italy was winning the war for Germany; intolerable to those of soldier blood whose years put them beyond the dead line of enlistment requirements and who could do nothing more than work and earn and give over here.