the days of my life-第51章

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ch　I　intended　to　write。　Literature；　I　was　told；　should　be　independent　of　such　base　actualities。　I　do　not　at　all　agree　with　those　critics。　If　a　man　wishes　to　produce　a　really　good　romance　dealing　with　some　past　epoch；　the　best　thing　he　can　do　is　to　see　the　land　in　which　the　folk　lived　of　whom　he　means　to　tell；　and；　as　it　were；　to　soak　himself　in　the　surroundings　that　were　their　surroundings。　So　he　may　hope　to　catch　some　of　the　atmosphere　which　doubtless　they　took　from　their　native　earth　and　skies。　Then；　if　he　possesses　any；　imagination　may　do　the　rest。　Who　could　write　a　saga　who　had　not　visited　Iceland；　or　an　Egyptian　novel　who　did　not　know　Egypt　—　I　mean　one　worth　reading？
Also　I　wrote　a　very　successful　little　African　story　called　“Maiwa’s　Revenge”　and　my　novel　“Beatrice；”　which　I　think　one　of　the　best　bits　of　work　I　ever　did。　Here　is　Charles　Longman　on　“Beatrice；”　no　doubt　after　he　had　read　the　MS。　His　letters　are　dated　August　2　and　August　4；　1888。
I　was　very　much　interested　in　“Beatrice。”　It　is　of　course　a　terrible　tragedy　—　unrelieved　in　its　gloom　which　increases　from　start　to　finish。　Still　there　is　no　denying　its　power　。　。　。　。
From　the　letter　of　August　4th：
I　think；　too；　that　“Beatrice”　is　your　best　piece　of　purely　modern；　nieenth　century　work。　I　believe　I　like　you　best　among　the　caves　of　old　Kor；　or　looking　back　over　King　Solomon’s　great　road　to　the　old　civilisations　dead　two　thousand　years　ago。　But　it　is　a　great　thing　to　have　several　strings　and　not　always　harp　on　the　same。　And　there　is　the　same　feeling　in　all　your　books　—　that　of　a　power　or　Fate　or　whatever　it　is　behind　man　controlling　his　actions　and　driving　him　blindly　forward。　All　ages　have　felt　it　and　have　tried　to　explain　it　in　their　own　way。　But　what　the　facts　may　be　—　we　may　know　some　day。　。　。　。
We　are　thinking　of　beginning　to　set　the　type　of　“Quaritch；　V。C。”　on　Sept。　1st。　You　will　give　us　your　finally　corrected　sheets；　I　suppose。　We　have　sold　20；000　copies　of　“Maiwa”　on　day　of　publication。
But　of　“Beatrice”　more　later；　let　us　return　to　“The　World’s　Desire；”　“The　Song　of　the　Bow”　as　it　was　called　at　first。
Roughly　the　history　of　this　tale；　which　I　like　as　well　as　any　with　which　I　have　had　to　do；　is　that　Lang　and　I　discussed　it。　Then　I　wrote　a　part　of　it；　which　part　he　altered　or　rewrote。　Next　in　his　casual　manner　he　lost　the　whole　MS。　for　a　year　or　so；　then　it　was　unexpectedly　found；　and　encouraged　thereby　I　went　on　and　wrote　the　rest。
The　MS。　in　its　final　form　I　have；　bound　up；　and　with　it　a　very　interesting　preface　or　rather　postscript　by　Lang　which　was　never　published；　eight　sheets　long；　also　notes　of　his　as　to　the　scheme　of　the　story　and　the　originals　of　his　verses；　some　of　which　I　drafted　in　prose。　The　MS。　contains　fifty…three　sheets　at　the　beginning　written　or　re…written　by　Lang；　and　about　130　sheets　in　my　writing；　together　with　various　addenda。　The　best　history　of　the　thing　is　to　extracted　from　Lang’s　letters；　from　which　I　make　some　quotations。
The　first　of　these　that　I　can　find　is　dated　from　an　hotel　in　Paris　on　March　8th；　probably　1888。
It　occurs　to　me　that　you　had　better　read　the　Helen　of　Euripides　in　a　prose　crib。　There’s　a　bad　one。　I　have　forgotten　the　play；　all　but　half　a　dozen　lines；　but　it　is　about　Helen　in　Egypt　and　may　suggest　something。　The　name　“The　Wanderer”　is　already　taken　by　one　of　Lord　Lytton’s　poems。　I　had　thought　of　“A　Priestess　of　Isis。”
The　next　is　from　Florence　on　March　25th：
Just　had　your　letter　on　the　Jews。　Do　you　think　it　worth　while；　if　it　won’t　run　easily？　You　have　so　much　on　hand；　and　I　am　afraid　you　will　tire　out　your　invention。　The　idea　of　Odysseus　and　Helen　is　a　good　one；　but　don’t　thrash　a　willing　and　perhaps　weary　Pegasus。
Then　es　one　from　Marloes　Road　—　he　is　back　again　in　England　now　—　without　the　slightest　indication　of　a　date。
Odysseus　calls　himself　Eperitus；　as　a　by…name；　in　Od。　24。　Or　Laertiades。
Helen　should　be　a　priestess　in　Egypt；　say　of　Pasht。
You　won’t　want　much　help　from　me。　All　the　local　colour　is　in　the　Odyssey。
After　this　I　believe　that　I　worked　away　at　the　story；　of　which　I　did　a　good　deal；　and　sent　it　to　Lang；　who　promptly　lost　it　so　pletely　and　for　so　long　a　time　that；　not　having　the　heart　to　remence　the　book；　the　idea　of　writing　it　was　abandoned。　It　appears　that　he　thrust　the　MS。　into　a　folio　volume；　which　was　replaced　among　his　numerous　books；　where　it　might　have　remained　for　generations　had　he　not　chanced　to　need　to　consult　that　particular　work　again。
I’ve　found　your　lost　MS。！　I　don’t　think　it　is　a　likely　thing；　style　too　Egyptian　and　all　too　unfamiliar　to　B。P。
Then　under　date　of　October　11th：
I　only　had　time　for　a　glance　at　the　lost　MS。　Now　I　have　read　it。　There　are　jolly　things　in　it　—　the　chess；　and　the　incantation；　and　the　ship；　but　I　fear　it　is　too　remote　for　this　people。　It　isn’t　my　idea　how　to　do　it　（not　that　that　matters）；　for　I’d　have　begun　with　Odysseus　in　a　plague…stricken　Ithaca　and　have　got　on　to　Egypt。　And　I’ve　had　written　in　modern　English。　However；　as　it　stands；　I　don’t　care　quite　for　the　way　the　Wanderer　is　introduced。　He　es　rather　perfunctorily　and　abruptly　on　the　scene　to　my　feeling。　It　is　a　subject　that　wants　such　a　lot　of　thinking　out。　It　would　be　jolly　if　one　had　more　time　in　this　world　of　ours。　Also；　if　the　public　had；　for　after　“Cleopatra”　they　would　not　rise　at　Egyptological　romance　for　a　long　time。　I　can’t　help　regretting　my　veteran　Odysseus　—　I　don’t　think　he　would　have　been　too　“grey…eyed。”　If　we　really　collaborated；　as　we　proposed　originally；　I’d　begin　with　him；　bring　him　in　your　way　to　Egypt；　introduce　him　to　the　old　cove　who’d　tell　him　about　Hatasu　（as　in　yours）　and　then　let　things　evolve；　but　keep　all　the　English　modern；　except　in　highly…wrought　passages；　incantations；　etc。　I　dare　say　it　would　make　a　funny　mixture。
Just　fancy　a　total　stranger　writing　to　ask　me　for　Matthew　Arnold’s　autograph。　Wot　next！
Oct。　17th。　Having　nothing　to　do　this　afternoon　I　did　a　lot　of　Ulysses。　I　brought　him　home　from　the　people　who　never　saw　salt　in　a　boat　of　Dreams；　and　I　made　him　find　nobody　alive　in　Ithaca；　a　pyre　of　ashes　in　the　front　garden　and　a　charred　bone　with　Penelope’s　bracelet　on　it！　But　the　bow　was　at　home。　If　you　can　make　it　alive　（it’s　as　dead　as　mutton）；　the　“local　colour”　is　all　right。　Then　I’d　work　in　your　bit；　where　the　Sidonians　nobble　him；　and　add　local　colour。
Nov。　2nd。　I　have　done　a　little　more。　Taken　Od。　into　the　darkness　and　given　him　a　song；　but　I　think　he　had　been　reading　Swinburne　when　he　wrote　it。
The　next　letter　is　undated：
Certainly　the　bow　must　sing；　but　I　don’t　think　words。
As　readers　of　the　book　will　know；　the　bow　was　ultimately　made　to　sing　in　words。　I　suggested　to　Lang　that　such　words　might　be　arranged　to　imitate　the　hiss　of　arrows　and　the　humming　of　the　string。　The　result　was　his　“Song　of　the　Bow；”　which　I　think　a　wonderfully　musical　poem。
Nov。　27th。　The　typewritten　“Song　of　the　Bow”　has　e。　The　Prologue　I　wrote　is　better　out。　It　is　very　odd　to　see　how　your　part　（though　not　your　chef　d’oeuvre）　is　readable；　and　how　mine　—　isn’t。　Tell　Longman　the　“Bow”　is　a　Toxophilite　piece。
The　chaff　about　the　Bow　being　a　Toxophilite　piece　refers　to　Charles　Longman’s　fondness　for　archery。
Jan　1st；　1889。　Splendid　idea；　no　two　people　seeing　Helen　the　same。　So　Meriamun　might　see　her　right　in　her　vision；　and　never　see　her　so　again；　till　she　finds　her　with　Odysseus。　Indeed　this　is　clearly　what　happens；　take　the　case　of　Mary　Stuart：　no　two　portraits　alike　—　or　Cleopatra。　I　bar　the　bogles　rather。　They’d　need　to　be　very　shadowy　at　least。　If　you　have　them；　they　should　simply　make　room　for　him。
But　the　shifting　beauty　is　really　poetical　to　my　mind。
Here　is　one　more　letter　dated　June　27th；　or　part　of　it；　which　well　exemplifies　Lang’s　habit　of　depreciating　his　own　work：
I　have　been　turning　over　“The　World’s　Desire；”　and　the　more　I　turn　the　more　I　dislike　the　idea　of　serial　publication。　It　is　emphatically　a　book　for　educated　people　only；　and　would　lower　your　vogue　with　newspaper　readers　if　it　were　syndicated；　to　an　extent　beyond　what　the　price　the　papers　pay　would　make　up　for。　I　am　about　as　sure　as　possible　of　this：　it　is　a　good　deal　my　confounded　style；　which　is　more　or　less　pretty；　but　infernally　slow　and　trailing。
Ultimately　“The　World’s　Desire”　was　published　serially　in　the　New　Review。　It　appeared　in　book　form　in　1890；　and　I　hope　to　speak　of　it　again　when　I　e　to　that　date。
Chapter　12　ICELAND
To　Iceland　on　the　Copeland　—　William　Morris　—　Njal　Saga　—　Golden　Falls　—　Bergthorsknoll　—　Salmon　and　trout　fishing　—　Copeland　again　—　Cargo　of　ponies　—　Gale　—　Off　Thurso　—　Fog　—　Wrecked　in　Pentland　Firth　—　Escaped　to　Stroma　Island　—　Subsequently　to　Wick。
On　June　14；　1888；　in　the　pany　of　a　friend；　Mr。　A。　G。　Ross；　I　sailed　from　Leith　on　my　long　contemplated　visit　to　Iceland。　The　steamer　was　called　the　Copeland；　a　trading　vessel　of　about　1000　tons。　What　she　carried　on　our　outward　voyages　I　do　not　know；　but　her　return　cargoes　consisted　alternately　of　emigrants　to　America；　of　whom；　if　I　remember　right；　four　or　five　hundred　were　packed　in　her　hold；　and　of　Iceland　ponies。　On　her　last　voyage　she　had　brought　emigrants；　so　this　time　it　was　to　be　the　turn　of　the　ponies。　Poor　Copeland！　As　I　shall　tell　in　due　course；　she　was　doomed　never　to　see　Leith　again。
Before　I　started　for　Iceland　I　called　upon　the　late　Mr。　William　Morris；　some　of　whose　poetry　I　admire　as　much　as　any　that　has　been　written　in　our　time。　Also　I　find　his　archaic　and　other…world　kind　of　romances　very　pleasant　and　restful　to　read。　It　was　the　only　time　that　I　ever　saw　Morris；　and　the　visit　made　an　impression　on　me。　My　recollection　is　of　a　fair…haired　man　with　a　large　head　and　very　pleasant　manners。　As　will　be　remembered；　he　was　a　great　Socialist　and　lived　up　to　it　—　to　a　certain　extent。　Thus　there　was　no　cloth　on　the　tea…table；　but　that　table　itself　was　one　of　the　most　beautiful　bits　of　old　oak　furniture　that　I　ever　saw。　The　cups；　I　think；　had　no　saucers　to　them；　but　certainly　they　were　very　fine　china。　No　servant　came　into　the　room；　but　then　ladies；　most　artistically　arrayed；　handed　the　bread　and　butter。　The　walls　were　severely　plain；　but　on　them　hung　priceless　tapestries　and　pictures　by　Rosetti　and　others。　I　remember　that　when　I