The Three Impostors; or, The Transmutations — John Shaqi
The Three Impostors; or, The TransmutationsMachen, Arthur
Science
The Three Impostors; or, The Transmutations
Machen, Arthur
Fiction; Horror tales, English
Dyson felt
profoundly flattered, and after a few phrases the two entered into
conversation, and in an hour's time the tobacconist saw the new friends
sitting side by side on a couple of casks, deep in talk.
"My dear sir," said Dyson, "I will give you the task of the literary man
in a phrase. He has got to do simply this: to invent a wonderful story,
and to tell it in a wonderful manner."
"I will grant you that," said Mr. Phillipps, "but you will allow me to
insist that in the hands of the true artist in words all stories are
marvellous, and every circumstance has its peculiar wonder. The matter
is of little consequence, the manner is everything. Indeed, the highest
skill is shown in taking matter apparently commonplace and transmuting
it by the high alchemy of style into the pure gold of art."
"That is indeed a proof of great skill, but it is great skill exerted
foolishly, or at least unadvisedly. It is as if a great violinist were
to show us what marvellous harmonies he could draw from a child's
banjo."
"No, no, you are really wrong. I see you take a radically mistaken view
of life. But we must thresh this out. Come to my rooms; I live not far
from here."
It was thus that Mr. Dyson became the associate of Mr. Charles
Phillipps, who lived in a quiet square not far from Holborn. Thenceforth
they haunted each other's rooms at intervals, sometimes regular, and
occasionally the reverse, and made appointments to meet at the shop in
Queen Street, where their talk robbed the tobacconist's profit of half
its charm. There was a constant jarring of literary formulas, Dyson
exalting the claims of the pure imagination, while Phillipps, who was a
student of physical science and something of an ethnologist, insisted
that all literature ought to have a scientific basis. By the mistaken
benevolence of deceased relatives both young men were placed out of
reach of hunger, and so, meditating high achievements, idled their time
pleasantly away, and revelled in the careless joys of a Bohemianism
devoid of the sharp seasoning of adversity.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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