Writings in the United Amateur, 1915-1922

by H. P. Lovecraft

  THE UNITED AMATEUR MARCH 1917

  DEPARTMENT OF PUBLIC CRITICISM

  =The Conservative= for October opens with Miss Olive G. Owen's tunefullines on "The Mocking Bird." Of the quality of Miss Owen's poetry it isscarce necessary to speak; be it sufficient to say that the presentpiece ranks among her best. In the intense fervour of the sentiment, andthe felicitous choice of the imagery, the touch of the born poet isalike shown. Through an almost inexcusable editorial mistake of our own,the first word of this poem is erroneously rendered. Line 1 should read:

  "=Where= Southern moonlight softly falls."

  "Old England and the Hyphen" is an attempt of the present critic todemonstrate why relations between the United States and Mother Englandmust necessarily be closer than those between the States and any of thereally foreign powers. So patent and so inevitable is the essentialunity of the Anglo-Saxon world that such an essay as this ought reallyto be superfluous; but its practical justification is found in the sillyclamour of those Anglophobes who are unfortunately permitted to residewithin our borders. "Insomnia," by Winifred Virginia Jordan, is aremarkable piece of verse whose dark turns of fancy are almost worthy ofa Poe. The grotesque tropes, the cleverly distorted images, the bizarreatmosphere, and ingeniously sinister repetitions all unite to produceone of the season's most notable poems. Each of the stanzas is vibrantwith the hideous, racking turmoil of the insomnious mind. "Prussianism,"by William Thomas Harrington, is a concise and lucid essay on a timelysubject, reviewing ably the cause and responsibility of the present war.It is especially valuable at this season of incoherent peacediscussion, for it explodes very effectively that vague, brainless"neutrality" which prompts certain pro-German pacifists to cry for peacebefore the normal and final settlement of Europe's troubles shall havebeen attained by the permanent annihilation of the Prussian militarymachine. "Twilight," by Chester Pierce Munroe, is a beautiful bit ofpoetic fancy and stately phraseology. Mr. Munroe, a Rhode Islandertransplanted to the mountains of North Carolina, is acquiring all thegrace and delicacy of the native Southern bard, while retaining thathappy conservatism of expression which distinguishes his work from thatof most contemporary poets. Callously modern indeed must be he who wouldwish Mr. Munroe's quaintly euphonious lines transmuted into theirritatingly abrupt and barren phraseology of the day. "The BondInvincible," by David H. Whittier, is a short story of great power andskilful construction, suggesting Poe's "Ligeia" in its central theme.The plot is developed with much dexterity, and the climax comes soforcibly and unexpectedly upon the reader, that one cannot but admireMr. Whittier's mastery of technique. Certain overnice critics maypossibly object to the tale, as containing incidents which no onesurvives to relate; but when we reflect that Poe has similarly written astory without survivors, ("The Masque of the Red Death") we can affordto applaud without reservation. The complete absence of slang and ofdoubtful grammar recommends this tale as a model to other amateurfiction-writers. "Respite" is a lachrymose lament in five stanzas by thepresent critic. The metre is regular, which is perhaps some excuse forits creation and publication. "By the Waters of the Brook," by Rev.Eugene B. Kuntz, D. D., is one of the noblest amateur poems of the year.While the casual reader may find in the long heptameter lines a want ofsing-song facility; the true lover of the Nine pauses in admiration atthe deep flowing nobility of the rhyme. The quick rippling of the brookis duplicated within each line, rather than from line to line. Theimagery and phraseology are of the sort which only Dr. Kuntz canfashion, and are rich in that exalted pantheism of fancy which comes tohim who knows Nature in her wilder and more rugged moods and aspects."The Pool," by Winifred Virginia Jordan, contains an elusive hint of theterrible and the supernatural which gives it high rank as poetry. Mrs.Jordan has two distinct, yet related, styles in verse. One of thesemirrors all the joy and buoyant happiness of life, whilst the otherreflects that undertone of grimness which is sometimes felt through theexterior of things. The kinship betwixt these styles lies in theiressentially fanciful character, as distinguished from the tiresomelycommonplace realism of the average modern rhymester. Another bit ofsinister psychology in verse is "The Unknown," by Elizabeth Berkeley.Mrs. Berkeley's style is less restrained than that of Mrs. Jordan, andpresents a picture of stark, meaningless horror, the like of which isnot often seen in the amateur press. It is difficult to pass upon theactual merit of so peculiar a production, but we will venture theopinion that the use of italics, or heavy-faced type, is not desirable.The author should be able to bring out all needed emphasis by words, notprinter's devices. The issue concludes with "Inspiration," a poem byLewis Theobald, Jun. The form and rhythm of this piece are quitesatisfactory, but the insipidity of the sentiment leaves much to bedesired. The whole poem savours too much of the current magazine style.

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  =The Coyote= for October is made notable by Editor Harrington'sthoughtful and well compiled article on "Worldwide Prohibition," whereinan extremely important step in the world's progress is truthfullychronicled. That legislation against alcohol is spreading rapidlythroughout civilization, is something which not even the densestchampions of "personal liberty" can deny. The utter emptiness of allarguments in behalf of strong drink is made doubly apparent by the swiftprohibitory enactments of the European nations when confronted by theemergencies of war, and by the abolition of liquor in a large number ofAmerican states for purely practical reasons. All these things point toa general recognition of liquor as a foe to governmental and industrialwelfare. Mr. Harrington's style in this essay is clear and in mostrespects commendable; though certain passages might gain force anddignity through a less colloquial manner. In particular, we must protestagainst the repeated use of the vulgarism =booze=, a word probablybrought into public favour by the new school of gutter evangelism,whose chief exponent is the Reverend William Sunday. The verb =tobooze=, =boose=, or =bouse=, meaning "to drink immoderately," and theadjective =boozy=, =boosy=, or =bousy=, meaning "drunken," are by nomeans new to our language, Dryden having written the form =bousy= insome of his verses; but =booze= as a noun signifying "liquor" iscertainly too vulgar a word for constant employment in any formalliterary composition. Another essay of Mr. Harrington's is "The DivineBook," a plea for the restoration of the Bible as a source of popularreading and arbiter of moral conduct. Whatever may be the opinion of thesearching critic regarding the place of the Scriptures in the world offact, it is undeniably true that a closer study of the revered volume,and a stricter adherence to its best precepts, would do much towardmending the faults of a loose age. We have yet to find a moreefficacious means of imparting virtue and contentment of heart to themasses of mankind. "Pioneers of New England," an article by Alice M.Hamlet, gives much interesting information concerning the sturdysettlers of New Hampshire and Vermont. In the unyielding struggles ofthese unsung heroes against the sting of hardship and the asperity ofprimeval Nature, we may discern more than a trace of that divine fire ofconquest which has made the Anglo-Saxon the empire builder of all theages. In Mr. Harrington's editorial column there is much discussion of aproposed "International Amateur Press Association," but we fail toperceive why such an innovation is needed, now that the United hasopened itself unreservedly to residents of all the countries of theglobe.

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  =Merry Minutes= for November is a clever publication ofsemi-professional character, edited by Miss Margaret Trafford of London,and containing a pleasant variety of prose, verses, and puzzles. "Kingof the Nursery Realm," by Margaret Mahon, is a smooth and musical pieceof juvenile verse which excels in correctness of form rather than innovelty of thought.

  "Bards and Minstrels, and The Augustan Age," by Beryl Mappin, is thesecond of a series of articles on English literature and its classicalfoundations. The erudition and enthusiasm displayed in this essay speakwell for the future of the authoress, though certain faults of style andconstruction demand correction. Careful grammatical study wouldeliminate from Miss Mappin's
style such solecisms as the use of =like=for =as=, whilst greater attention to the precepts of rhetoric wouldprevent the construction of such awkward sentences as the following:"The same if one is reading an interesting book, can one not see allthat is happening there as clearly with one's inner eyes as if it wasall taking place before one, and viewed with one's outer ones?" Thispassage is not only wanting in coherence and correctness of syntax, butis exceedingly clumsy through redundancy of statement, and repetition ofthe word =one=. This word, though essential to colloquial diction,becomes very tiresome when used to excess; and should be avoided in manycases through judicious transpositions of the text. The following is arevised version of the sentence quoted above: "Thus, in reading aninteresting book, can one not see with the inner eyes all that ishappening there, as clearly as if it were taking place in reality beforethe outer eyes?" Other parts of the essay require similar revision.Concerning the development of the whole, we must needs question theunity of the topics. Whilst the connecting thread is rather evidentafter a second or third perusal, the cursory reader is apt to becomepuzzled over the skips from the Graeco-Roman world to the early Saxonkingdoms, and thence to the dawn of our language amongst theAnglo-Normans. What Miss Mappin evidently wishes to bring out, is thatthe sources of English literature are twofold; being on the one hand thepolished classics of antiquity, inspired by Greece, amplified anddiffused by Rome, preserved by France, and brought to England by theNormans; and on the other hand the crude but virile products of ourSaxon ancestors, brought from the uncivilized forests of the continentor written after the settlement in Britain. From this union ofGraeco-Roman classicism with native Anglo-Saxon vitality springs theunquestioned supremacy of English literature. Assiduous devotion to themastery of rhetoric, and the habit of constructing logical synopsesbefore writing the text of articles would enable Miss Mappin to utiliseher knowledge of literary history in a manner truly worthy of its depth."Trinidad and its People," by "F. E. M. Hercules," exhibits a somewhatmaturer style, and forms a very interesting piece of geographicaldescription. "The Pursuit of the Innocent," is a serial story by MissTrafford, and though only a small part of it is printed in the currentissue, we judge that it derives its general atmosphere from the popular"thrillers" of the day. The dialogue is not wholly awkward, but there isa noticeable want of proportion in the development of the narrative.Miss Trafford would probably profit by a more faithful study of thestandard novelists, and a more complete avoidance of the type of fictionfound in modern weekly periodicals such as =Answers= or =Tit-Bits=.Those who feel impelled to introduce stirring adventure into theirtales, can do so without sacrifice of excitement and interest byfollowing really classic writers like Poe and Stevenson; orsemi-standard authors like Sir A. Conan Doyle. The puzzles propounded byMiss Hillman are quite interesting, though matter of this sort isscarcely to be included within the domain of pure literature. We guess=airship= as the answer to the first one, but have not space to recordour speculations concerning the second. =Merry Minutes= closes with thefollowing poem by Master Randolph Trafford, a very young author:

  "Once upon a time, there was a little boy, And, if you please, he went to school; That little boy, he always would annoy, And found at school a very nasty rule."

  Without undue flattery to Master Trafford, we may conclusively statethat we deem his poem a great deal better than most of the =vers libre=effusions which so many of his elders are perpetrating nowadays!

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  =The Scot= for July is devoted completely to the work of the feminineamateurs of the United States, and is announced by its editor as an"American 'Petticoat' Number"; a title which might possibly bearreplacement by something rather less colloquial. "Over the Edge of theWorld," a poem by Olive G. Owen, is correct in construction andappropriate in sentiment, deriving much force from the continuedrepetition of the first line. "In Morven's Mead," by Winifred V. Jordan,is one of a series of fanciful poems all bearing the same title. Thepresent verses show all the charm and delicacy which characterise thewhole. "Patience--A Woman's Virtue," is one of Mrs. Eloise N. Griffith'sthoughtful moral essays, and is as commendable for its precepts as forits pure style. "His Flapper," by Edna von der Heide, is a clever pieceof trochaic verse in Cockney dialect, which seems, so far as an Americancritic can judge, to possess a very vivid touch of local colour. "An Eyefor an Eye," by the same authoress, seems vaguely familiar, havingpossibly been published in the amateur press before. If so, it is wellworthy of republication. "Women and Snakes," a sketch by Eleanor J.Barnhart, is not a misogynistical attempt at comparison, but a theoryregarding the particular fear with which the former are popularlysupposed to regard the latter. Whilst Miss Barnhart writes with thebravery of the true scientist, we are constrained to remark that acertain dislike of snakes, mice, and insects is a very real thing; notonly amongst the fair, but equally amongst those sterner masculine soulswho would stoutly deny it if questioned. It is an atavistical fear,surviving from primitive ages when the venomous qualities of reptiles,insects, and the like, made their quick avoidance necessary touninstructed man. "Be Tolerant," by Winifred V. Jordan, is a didacticpoem of the sort formerly published in =The Symphony=. While it does notpossess in fullest measure the grace and facility observed in Mrs.Jordan's more characteristic work; it is nevertheless correct andmelodious, easily equalling most poetry of its kind. Mr. McColl'seditorial column, the only masculine feature of the issue, contains avery noble tribute to the two soldier cousins of Miss von der Heide, whohave laid down their lives for the cause of England and the right. Fromsuch men springs the glory of Britannia.

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  =The Scot= for August opens with Winifred V. Jordan's tuneful lines, "IfYou but Smile," whose inspiration and construction are alike of no meanorder. "Hoary Kent," by Benjamin Winskill, is an exquisite sketch of aregion where the past still lives. In an age of turmoil and unrest, itis a comfort to think that in one spot, at least, the destroying clawsof Time have left no scars. There lie the scenes dear to every son andgrandson of Britain; there are bodied forth the eternal and unchangingtraditions that place above the rest of the world

  "This precious stone set in the silver sea-- This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England."

  "Meditation of a Scottish Queen on Imprisonment," a poem by MargaretTrafford, contains noble passages, but is marred by defective technique.Passing over the use of the expletives =do= and =doth= as legitimatearchaisms in this case, we must call attention to some awkwardphraseology, and to the roughness of certain lines, which have eithertoo few or too many syllables. The very first line of the poem requirescontraction, which might be accomplished by substituting =hapless= for=unhappy=. Line 8 would read better if thus amended:

  "I would that death might come and me release."

  The final line of the first stanza lacks a syllable, which might besupplied by replacing =vile= with =hateful=. The second stanza will passas it is, but the entire remainder of the poem requires alteration,since but two of the lines are of normal decasyllabic length. Thefollowing is rough revision, though we have not attempted to build thepoetry anew:

  Oh! could I breathe again dear Scotland's air; Behold once more her stately mountains high, Thence view the wide expanse of azure sky, Instead of these perpetual walls so bare!

  Could I but see the grouse upon the moor, Or pluck again the beauteous heather bell! Freedom I know not in this dismal cell, As I my anguish from my heart outpour.

  My Scotland! know'st thou thy poor Queen's distress, And canst thou hear my wailing and my woe? May the soft wind that o'er thy hills doth blow Waft thee these thoughts, that I cannot suppress!

  "Six Cylinder Happiness," a brief essay by William J. Dowdell, presentsin ingeniously pleasing style a precept not entirely new amongstphilosophers. Mr. Dowdell's skill with the pen is very considerable,particularly when he ventures outside the domain of slang. We shouldlike t
o suggest a slightly less colloquial title for this piece, such as"Real Happiness." "For Right and Liberty," a poem by Matthew Hilson, iscommendable in sentiment and clever in construction, but lacksperfection in several details of phraseology. In the third line of thethird stanza the word =ruinous= must be replaced by a true dissyllable,preferably =ruin'd=. "For Their Country," a short story by MargaretTrafford, is vivid in plot and truly heroic in moral, but somewhatdeficient in technique, particularly at the beginning. Miss Traffordshould use care in moulding long sentences, and should avoid theemployment of abbreviations like =etc.= in the midst of narrative text."That Sunny Smile," by John Russell, is a cleverly optimistic bit ofverse whose rhythm is very facile, but which would be improved by theaddition of two syllables to the third and sixth lines of each stanza.The rhyme of =round you= and =found true= is incorrect, since the secondsyllables of double rhymes must be identical. "The Evil One," byNarcissus Blanchfield, is announced as "A Prose-poem, after OscarWilde--a long way after." As an allegory it is true to the facts of thecase; though one cannot but feel that there is room for a freer play ofthe poetic imagination in so great a subject.

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  =Toledo Amateur= for October is a literary publication which reflectsmuch credit upon its young editor, Mr. Wesley Hilon Porter, and upon theseveral contributors. "Twilight," a correct and graceful poem by Missvon der Heide opens the issue. "A Sabbath," by Mary Margaret Sisson, isa sketch of great merit, though not wholly novel in subject. Thehypocrisy of many self-satisfied "pillars of the church" is only toowell known both in life and in literature. At the very close of thepiece, the word =epithet= is used in a slightly incorrect sense, meaning"motto." =Epithet=, as its Greek derivation shows, signifies an=adjective= or descriptive expression. "The Workers of the World," byDora M. Hepner, is another sociological sketch of no small merit,pleasantly distinguished by the absence of slang. "Not All," by Olive G.Owen, is a poem of much fervour, albeit having a somewhat too free useof italics. The words and rhythm of a poet should be able to convey hisimages without the more artificial devices of typographical variation.Another questionable point is the manner of using archaic pronouns andverb forms. Miss Owen seems to use both ancient and modern conjugationsof the verb indifferently with such subjects as =thou=. "A Day at OurSummer Home," by Emma Marie Voigt, is a descriptive sketch ofconsiderable promise, and "My First Amateur Convention," by Mrs. AddieL. Porter, is a well written chronicle of events. "The Wild Rose," byMarguerite Allen, is a poem of no little grace, though beset with manyof the usual crudities of youthful work. In the first place, thequatrains should have their rhymes regularly recurring; either in bothfirst and third, and second and fourth lines; or only in second andfourth. A rhyme occurring only in first and third lines gives anunmusical cast, since it causes the stanza to end unrhymed. Secondly,the words =fence= and =scent= do not form a legitimate rhyme. The easycorrectness of the metre is an encouraging sign, and indicates a poetictalent which Miss Allen would do well to cultivate. Mr. Porter's articleon amateur journalism is interesting and quite just, though we hope thatthe United has not quite so "little to offer" the devotee of "so-calledhigh-class literature" as the author believes. If we are to retain ourcultivated members, or our younger members after they acquirecultivation, we must necessarily cater to the better grade of taste;though of course without neglecting the succeeding generation ofnovices. The editorial column of this issue is bright and fluent,concluding one of the best amateur journals of the season.

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  THE UNITED AMATEUR for September contains something only too seldomfound in the amateur press; a really meritorious short story. "TheShadow on the Trail," by Eleanor J. Barnhart, possesses every element ofgood fiction; a substantial and really interesting plot, a logicaldevelopment from beginning to conclusion, an adequate amount ofsuspense, a climax which does not disappoint, and a praiseworthy degreeof local colour. Besides all of which it is fluent in language andcorrect in syntax. The rest of the literary department in this issue isdevoted to verse. "To a Friend," by Alice M. Hamlet, is particularlypleasing through the hint of old-school technique which its well orderedphrases convey. The one weak point is the employment of =thy=, asingular expression, in connexion with several objects; namely, "paper,pen, and ready hand." =Your= should have been used. The metre isexcellent throughout, and the whole piece displays a gratifying skill onits author's part. "The Path Along the Sea," by Rev. Eugene B. Kuntz, isa flawless and beautiful bit of sentimental poetry, cast in fluent andfelicitous heptameter. "Dad," by Horace Fowler Goodwin, is decidedly thebest of this writer's pieces yet to appear in the amateur press. Thedefects are mostly technical, including the bad rhyme of =engaged= and=dismayed=, and the overweighted seventh line of the final stanza. Thelatter might be rectified by substituting =blest=, or some othermonosyllable, for =lucky=. "Li'l Baby Mine," by W. Frank Booker, is aquaint and captivating darky lullaby, whose accuracy of dialect andatmosphere comes from that first-hand knowledge of the negroes whichonly a Southern writer can possess. Mr. Booker is one of our mostpromising bards, and will be doubly notable when his style shall havereceived its final polish. "When I Gaze on Thee," by Kathleen FosterSmith, is an amatory poem of much grace and fluency.

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  THE UNITED AMATEUR for October furnishes us with a species ofcomposition not frequently encountered in amateurdom; an official reportwhich is also a literary classic. Pres. Campbell's message is really anessay on contemporary amateur journalism, and contains a multitude ofwell stated truths which every member of the fraternity would do well toperuse. "The Wanderer's Return," by Andrew Francis Lockhart, is abeautiful piece of anapaestic verse whose flow is as pleasing as itssentiment.

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  =The Woodbee= for October is edited by Mrs. Ida C. Haughton, and thoughnot of large size, does credit both to her and to the Columbus Club. "Tothe Woodbees," a witty parody of Poe's "Annabel Lee," exhibits MissIrene Metzger as the possessor of no little skill in numbers; andincidentally suggests that other young bards might well improve theirstyles by judicious exercises of this sort. Much of the spirit of metremay be absorbed through copying the works of the standard poets."Louise's Letter," a short story by Norma Sanger, contains some of thedefects of early composition, notably an undue hastening of the actionimmediately after the letter quoted in the text. The plot involves arather unusual coincidence, yet is probably no more overstrained thanthat of the average piece of light fiction. "The Ruling Passion," byEdna M. Haughton, is a story of phenomenal power and interest, forming apsychological study worthy of more than one perusal. All therequirements of good fiction, both inspirational and technical, arecomplied with to the satisfaction of even the most exacting critic. MissHaughton's work is of a very high grade, and would be welcomed in largerquantities by the amateur world. Miss Harwood's interesting News Notesand Mrs. Haughton's thoughtful editorial conclude an issue whose everyfeature deserves commendation.

  H. P. LOVECRAFT, Chairman.