letters on literature(关于文学)-第20节
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laughing face With nectar； and runs on！〃
That is poetry deserving of a place among the rarest things in the
Anthology。 It is a sorrow to me that I cannot quite place Praed with Prior
in my affections。 With all his gaiety and wit； he wearies one at last with
that clever； punning antithesis。 I don't want to know how
〃Captain Hazard wins a bet； Or Beaulieu spoils a curry〃 …
and I prefer his sombre 〃Red Fisherman；〃 the idea of which is
borrowed； wittingly or unwittingly； from Lucian。
Thackeray； too careless in his measures； yet comes nearer Prior in
breadth of humour and in unaffected tenderness。 Who can equal that
song； 〃Once you come to Forty Year；〃 or the lines on the Venice Love…
lamp； or the 〃Cane…bottomed Chair〃？ Of living English writers of verse
in the 〃familiar style；〃 as Cowper has it； I prefer Mr。 Locker when he is
tender and not untouched with melancholy； as in 〃The Portrait of a Lady；〃
and Mr。 Austin Dobson； when he is not flirting； but in earnest； as in the
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〃Song of Four Seasons〃 and 〃The Dead Letter。〃 He has ingenuity； pathos；
mastery of his art； and； though the least pedantic of poets； is 〃conveniently
learned。〃
Of contemporary Americans； if I may be frank； I prefer the verse of Mr。
Bret Harte； verse with so many tunes and turns； as comic as the 〃Heathen
Chinee；〃 as tender as the lay of the ship with its crew of children that
slipped its moorings in the fog。 To me it seems that Mr。 Bret Harte's
poems have never （at least in this country） been sufficiently esteemed。
Mr。 Lowell has written （〃The Biglow Papers〃 apart） but little in this vein。
Mr。 Wendell Holmes； your delightful godfather； Gifted； has written much
with perhaps some loss from the very quantity。 A little of vers de societe；
my dear Gifted； goes a long way； as you will think； if ever you sit down
steadily to read right through any collection of poems in this manner。 So
do not add too rapidly to your own store； let them be 〃few； but roses〃 all of
them。
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RICHARDSON
By Mrs。 Andrew Lang。
＇This letter is excluded from this version of the eText until the
copyright status of Mrs。 Andrew Lang's work in the UK can be
ascertained。＇
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GERARD DE NERVAL
To Miss Girton； Cambridge。
Dear Miss Girton；Yes； I fancy Gerard de Nerval is one of that rather
select party of French writers whom Mrs。 Girton will allow you to read。
But even if you read him； I do not think you will care very much for him。
He is a man's author； not a woman's； and yet one can hardly say why。 It
is not that he offends 〃the delicacy of your sex；〃 as Tom Jones calls it； I
think it is that his sentiment； whereof he is full； is not of the kind you like。
Let it be admitted that； when his characters make love； they might do it 〃in
a more human sort of way。〃
In this respect； and in some others； Gerard de Nerval resembles Edgar
Poe。 Not that his heroes are always attached to a belle morte in some
distant Aiden； not that they have been for long in the family sepulchre； not
that their attire is a vastly becoming shroud… …no； Aurelie and Sylvie； in
Les Filles de Feu； are nice and natural girls； but their lover is not in love
with them 〃in a human sort of way。〃 He is in love with some vaporous
ideal； of which they faintly remind him。 He is； as it were； the eternal
passer…by； he is a wanderer from his birth； he sees the old chateau； or the
farmer's cottage； or even the bright theatre； or the desert tent； he sees the
daughters of men that they are fair and dear； in moonlight； in sunlight； in
the glare of the footlights； and he looks； and longs； and sighs； and wanders
on his fatal path。 Nothing can make him pause； and at last his urgent
spirit leads him over the limit of this earth； and far from the human shores；
his delirious fancy haunts graveyards； or the fabled harbours of happy
stars； and he who rested never； rests in the grave； forgetting his dreams or
finding them true。
All this is too vague for you； I do not doubt； but for me the man and
his work have an attraction I cannot very well explain； like the personal
influence of one who is your friend； though other people cannot see what
you see in him。
Gerard de Nerval （that was only his pen…name） was a young man of
the young romantic school of 1830； one of the set of Hugo and Gautier。
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Their gallant； school…boyish absurdities are too familiar to be dwelt upon。
They were much of Scott's mind when he was young； and translated
Burger； and 〃wished to heaven he had a skull and cross… bones。〃 Two or
three of them died early； two or three subsided into ordinary literary
gentlemen （like M。 Maquet； lately deceased）； two； nay three； became
poetsVictor Hugo； Theophile Gautier； and Gerard de Nerval。 It is not
necessary to have heard of Gerard； even that queer sham； the lady of
culture； admits without a blush that she knows not Gerard。 Yet he is
worth knowing。
What he will live by is his story of 〃Sylvie；〃 it is one of the little
masterpieces of the world。 It has a Greek perfection。 One reads it； and
however old one is； youth comes back； and April； and a thousand pleasant
sounds of birds in hedges； of wind in the boughs； of brooks trotting
merrily under the rustic bridges。 And this fresh nature is peopled by girls
eternally young； natural； gay； or pensive； standing with eager feet on the
threshold of their life； innocent； expectant； with the old ballads of old
France on their lips。 For the story is full of those artless； lisping numbers
of the popular French Muse； the ancient ballads that Gerard collected and
put in the mouth of Sylvie； the pretty peasant girl。
Do you know what it is to walk alone all day on the Border； and what
good company to you the burn is that runs beside the highway？ Just so
companionable is the music of the ballads in that enchanted country of
Gerard's fancy； in the land of the Valois。 All the while you read； you
have a sense of the briefness of the pleasure； you know that the hero
cannot rest here； that the girls and their loves； the cottage and its shelter；
are not for him。 He is only passing by； happy yet wistful； far untravelled
horizons are alluring him； the great city is drawing him to herself and will
slay him one day in her den； as Scylla slew her victims。
Conceive Gerard living a wild life with wilder young men and women
in a great barrack of an old hotel that the painters amused themselves by
decorating。 Conceive him coming home from the play； or rather from
watching the particular actress for whom he had a distant； fantastic passion。
He leaves the theatre and takes up a newspaper； where he reads that
tomorrow the Archers of Senlis are to meet the Archers of Loisy。 These
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were places in his native district； where he had been a boy。 They recalled
many memories； he could not sleep that night； the old scenes flashed
before his half… dreaming eyes。 This was one of the visions。
〃In front of a chateau of the time of Henri IV。； a chateau with peaked
lichen…covered roofs； with a facing of red brick varied by stonework of a
paler hue； lay a wide； green lawn set round with limes and elms； and
