English
22.
Joseph A. Cone.
First
Year Special.
Theme #10, March 5, 1895.
I am afraid this has not much
argumentative values. You have no right to assume that every author who might
appear upon the platform would disappoint his hearers. The paragraph in the
middle of page 4 is not very intelligible. You surely do not mean to accuse
anyone who might not agree with you of never having had a book in his hand!
This theme has an unusually large number of errors in technique; the last part
is particularly in need
of revision. I think you must have written it hurriedly.
Rewrite.
F.E.F.
Is the Public Platform Detrimental to
An Author’s Reputation.
(Yes)
Among
many of the latter-day authors, and especially those of mushroom growth, whose
reputations have been made “in a night,” so to speak, there seems to be a
desire to bring themselves (more in touch with
the public than is afforded) Clumsy
through
the pages of a book. Consequently they are led into the luring suare of the
lecture platform or the “public reading” fad, thinking to add greater glory to
their names, larger columns of figures to their bank books, and to shine as the
brightest social lights of the season. From a financial and
even from a social point of view, and even a social one, such a course might be a success, but when (the question of fame is entered upon,) Heavy lasting fame, such as the
average author is desirous of leaving behind him, nothing in my opinion, would
hasten its death more rapidly. Therefore I claim
that the platform is detrimental to an author’s reputation, and as briefly as possible, I will point out some of the reasons
why. Recast See Hill’s
Foundations p 111
In
the first place, I might say that the fickleness of human nature lies at the
bottom of the whole thing, but all of you will readily admit it is too late for any one man to try to set
aright this great and growing evil. Human nature, in this respect, is irretrievable. But tTo return
to the author himself. Whenever we read
a book in which we are specially interested, our minds naturally drift off into
speculation concerning the personality of the author. We wonder if he looks
anything like the hero himself, and whether or not he ever really (experienced any of the scenes)
Undiamatic he has so truthfully depicted. We conclude in Modify
this(the
affirmative, and when we have done speculating we have an ideal character in
mind. We have settled on just what our
favorite author is like. Then we see in
the papers that he is moving towards us on a successful lecture tour. Critics
herald it; society goes mad over it, and we can hardly wait for the night to
arrive when we shall see him in all his glory. We crowd to the hall, we wait
with much eagerness; then something finds its way across the stage. Surely, it
cannot be “him”; it must be someone to make an announcement. Then comes
the disappointment. Alas! Artificial There stands the little author of that big novel!
It may be that he is insignificant
of X statue, a
cripple or a hunch-back; an unkempt giant of almost unkempt appearance; anyway, we are disappointed, and after listening
to two hours of uninteresting Sp reminences in which K (“I”
forms the largest word), or perhaps a lecture,
so dry that we wonder it does not catch afire,
we hurry home, disgusted with ourselves and with the world in general. Then we decide that we have seen enough
of that author, and the result is that when
we pass his stories by the next time we visit the booksellers. Thus does the
author suffer from “showing himself” before a suffering public, and when we
consider that he has done likewise in all the leading cities of the country the
result is bound to show itself in large proportions sooner or later.
I recall an instance
where the personality of the author differed so widely from the nature of his
works that one could trace no semblance between the two. For a long time I had
been an admirer of his productions, and it so came about that he invited asked me to call upon him in the
office of a well known publishing house. Joyfully I accepted the invitation,
but whom did I meet? A nervous, business-like, up-to-date man, (full of conceit and neuralgia, totally unlike the
charming work of his pen.) The comparison is awkward. I never wanted to see him
again. He made me miserable, and from that moment his writings had lost their
charm for me, for against my will, I could can hear
the blustering tones of their author all through them. So much for the
personalities of authors.
“But,” my opponent will
say, “that is only one case.”
X (It is many.) Pray have the kindness to excuse him tonight should
he make any rash statements, for in my several years’ intercourse with him I
have never heard him make use of the word author, or even seen him with a book
in his hand. He knows absolutely nothing about authors, or of the question he
is about to bungle. Ü(This was intended for
satire!)
And,
lastly, this, we might term it say “ burlesque lecture-reading fad” is injurious to the genuine (lecture profession). K Spurts of this
kind, as I have already proven, can in no way benefit an author only but momentarily, and K
does injure (the
real calling). What has become of the crowded
lecture halls of a few years ago? They have been gradually pushed aside by
these “upstart” lecturers, The halls have been pushed aside by
lecturers? till now it is a rare thing to see a lecture hall half filled.
People have been fooled by so many would-be lectures that they have become heartily
discusted with the whole thing and little
wonder it is so.
_______________________________________
English
22.
Joseph
A, Cone.
First Year Special.
Theme #10 Rewritten.
March
26, 1895.
Is the Public Platform Detrimental to
an
Author’s Reputation.
(Affirmative)
Among some of the
latter-day authors, and especially those of mushroom growth, whose reputations
have been made by a single book, there seems to be a desire to bring themselves
personally before the public. Consequently they are led into the luring suare
of the lecture platform or the “public reading” fad, thinking to add greater
glory to their names, larger sums to their bank accounts, and to shine as the
brightest social lights of the season. From a financial and even from a social point of
view, such a course might be a success, but when we consider fame, fame in its
highest sense, nothing would, in my opinion, would terminate it quicker.
Therefore I assert that the platform is detrimental to an author’s reputation,
and as briefly as possible, I will point out
some of the reasons why.
In the
first place, we might say that the fickleness of human nature is responsible
for it all, but it is too late for any one individual to try to adjust this
great and growing evil. Humanity, in this respect, is irretrievable. To return
to the author himself. Whenever we read
a book that is unusually interesting, we naturally drift off into speculation
concerning the personality of the author. We wonder if in the hero he has not
pictured himself, and if his own life has been as romantic as that the life of the his hero has been. We conclude that it has, and when out of our
meditations we have formed an ideal character.
We picture to ourselves just what our favorite author is like. Then we
see in the papers that he is about to start upon a lecture or “reading” tour. The
personal columns in the dailies herald it, society makes elaborate preparations
for it, and we anxiously await the night when we shall behold him in all his
glory. We crowd to the hall, we wait with ready glass, wait with much
eagerness. Then something makes its way upon the stage. Surely, it cannot be “him”;
it must be someone to make an announcement. But, no; he begins to read, and our
disappointment is complete. There stands the little author of that big novel! It
may be that he is insignificant of figure, a cripple or a hunchback; or perhaps
an unkempt giant. Anyway, we are disappointed, and after listening to two hours
of uninteresting personal reminiscences, or perhaps a lecture, so dry that we
wonder it does not catch fire, we hurry home,
disgusted with ourselves and with the world in general. Then we decide that we
have seen enough of that author, consequently we pass his stories by the next
time we visit the bookseller. Thus does the author suffer from “exhibiting”
himself before a suffering public, and when we consider that he has done
likewise in all the leading cities of the country, the result is bound to show
itself sooner or later.
“But,”
my opponent will say, “that is only one case.”
Let me
quote from Munsey’s magazine for January. After a lengthy discourse up
“He
himself, lives in the country. He never attended a literary reception in his
life; and you look at his sensible face, and make up your mind that when this
engagement is over he will cease exhibiting himself on the platform. He is a
clever writer, we know, and a delightful friend, we are told; but he has
nothing personally to give the public, except his books”.
I recall
an instance where the personality of the author differed so widely from the
nature of his works that one could trace no semblance between the two. For a
long time I had been an admirer of his works productions, and it so came
about that he asked me to call upon him in the office of a well known
publishing house. Joyfully I accepted the invitation, but whom did I meet? A conceited,
nervous, business-like man, totally unlike the calm and entertaining flavor of
his books. I never wanted to see him again. He made me miserable, and from that
moment his writings lost their charm for me, for against my will, I hear the
blustering tones of their author running through them. So much for the
personalities of authors.
And,
lastly, this, burlesque lecture-reading fad is injurious to the legitimate and
instructive lecture. That there are successful and entertaining Author-lecturers
I do not deny. General Lew Wallace is one of them. But what of the large number
who have sprung into questionable fame by a single publication, or those of
more fixed reputation who, like Conan Doyle, have nothing personally to give? Such
a course, as I have already declared, can in no way benefit them but
momentarily, while without question it is detrimental to the genuine lecture.
What has become of the crowded lecture halls of former years? These worthy
institutions have gradually been pushed aside till now it is a rare sight to
see a half-filled lecture hall. The public has been deceived and disappointed
to such an extent that it has become disgusted with the very announcement, “lecture-entertainment”.
Therefore
I maintain that unless the author has chosen lecturing as a correlative to his
regular profession, and has adequately fitted himself therefor, the public
platform, sooner or later, will be disastrous to his reputation as a writer.
This theme
has a certain amount of life and vigor in its treatment. It is seriously
marred, however, by defects in spelling, misuse of word, and solecisms. The
transitions from sentence to sentence are good, those from one paragraph to
another less so. The theme is filled with trite sayings; is platitudinous to a
high degree.
As an
argument the theme is hardly convincing. It is too assertive. In supposing an
opponent’s objection, you reply to it by mere dogmatic assertions, you bring
forward no proof – For example you say Charles
T. Ransom positively “this is not one case, it is many”. By this you prove
absolutely nothing.
Charles T. Ransom
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