Notes on Novelists, with Some Other NotesJames, Henry
History
Notes on Novelists, with Some Other Notes
James, Henry
Fiction -- History and criticism; Novelists
Perpetually and exquisitely amusing as he was, his ambiguities and
compatibilities yielded, for all the wear and tear of them, endless
“fun” even to himself; and no one knew so well with what linked
diversities he was saddled or, to put it the other way, how many horses
he had to drive at once. It took his own delightful talk to show how
more than absurd it might be, and, if convenient, how very obscurely so,
that such an incurable rover should have been complicated both with such
an incurable scribbler and such an incurable invalid, and that a man
should find himself such an anomaly as a drenched yachtsman haunted with
“style,” a shameless Bohemian haunted with duty, and a victim at once of
the personal hunger and instinct for adventure and of the critical,
constructive, sedentary view of it. He had everything all
round—adventure most of all; to feel which we have only to turn from
the beautiful flush of it in his text to the scarce less beautiful
vision of the great hilltop in Pacific seas to which he was borne after
death by islanders and chiefs. Fate, as if to distinguish him as
handsomely as possible, seemed to be ever treating him to some chance
for an act or a course that had almost nothing in its favour but its
inordinate difficulty. If the difficulty was in these cases not _all_
the beauty for him it at least never prevented his finding in it—or our
finding, at any rate, as observers—so much beauty as comes from a great
risk accepted either for an idea or for simple joy. The joy of risks,
the more personal the better, was never far from him, any more than the
excitement of ideas. The most important step in his life was a signal
instance of this, as we may discern in the light of “The Amateur
Emigrant” and “Across the Plains,” the report of the conditions in which
he fared from England to California to be married. Here as always the
great note is the heroic mixture—the thing he _saw_, morally as well as
imaginatively; action and performance at any cost, and the cost made
immense by want of health and want of money, illness and anxiety of the
extremest kind, and by unsparing sensibilities and perceptions. He had
been launched in the world for a fighter with the organism say of a
“composer,” though also it must be added with a beautiful saving sanity.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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