The Fly Leaf, No. 1, Vol. 1, December 1895: A Pamphlet Periodical of the New—the New Man, New Woman, New Ideas, Whimsies and ThingsVarious
General
The Fly Leaf, No. 1, Vol. 1, December 1895: A Pamphlet Periodical of the New—the New Man, New Woman, New Ideas, Whimsies and Things
Various
American literature -- Periodicals; American periodicals
* * * * *
In the death of Eugene Field, American literature has sustained a loss
that will not be readily forgotten, for this whimsical poet of genius
won a place for himself in the hearts of thousands. His “Sharps and
Flats” in the _Chicago Record_ also gained him a national reputation,
but it is the fate of all journalists who succeed in winning such a
place as he held in daily journalism to waste in the eternal ferment
of the short-lived daily newspaper the fine talents of imagination and
wit, that put into the permanent form of literature, would give them a
place among the famous wits and humorists of the world. Luckily Eugene
Field was a poet as well as a wit and droll, and the publisher of the
_Record_ was appreciative and catholic enough to open his columns to
his poetry.
If other American newspapers would allow their cleverest writers the
same latitude of doing signed work in poetry and prose, we should
soon have a very encouraging group of distinctive and virile American
writers. Eugene Field was, perhaps, the only American man of letters
using the term in its broad sense, and not restricting it especially
to the writer of merely funny or political work, who has won fame in
literature through the medium of a newspaper. This is high praise for
the _Record_ as well as a monument of achievement for Field, which only
those in the harassing harness of journalism can properly appreciate.
At the close of his career, of course, Field was published in books and
magazines, but he won his reputation in the _Record_.
Why do not some other proprietors of large newspapers give other young
American writers of originality and talent a show, instead of giving
the public nothing in the way of literature but syndicate matter by
English writers who crop up everywhere? If the newspaper publishers
and editors took to producing literary men of their own, and were not
content to get out a newspaper that tallies with every other in every
town from Maine to Frisco, we should soon find that a rich streak of
spontaneous, fresh talent would be struck in this country.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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