The San Francisco call. [volume], October 30, 1910, Page 12, Image 12

About The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913

Image provided by: University of California, Riverside; Riverside, CA

                
THE JARRING CONFESSIONS OF
THE WOMAN BEHIND THE PEN THE MAN BEHIND THE PEN
IX the pigeonholes of every author
may be found two stacks of let
ters. As the stack 'of \u25a0 printed
slips saying "VTe regret that the
Inclosed manuscript is not available'
ceases to grow, the other pile increases
In converse proportion — this is the col
lection of notes that drift in to the
writer after the publication of a suc
cessful book or story. \
But it Is the writer of the magazine
story, the short Jove story, whose mail
is heaviest with notes from Interested
readers. A matrimonial agency de
veloped along the lines of writer and
reader of the modern tense love story
\u25a0would put the present methods out of
commission.
If the writer be a woman, signing
herself merely Mary Smith, which is
osually evidence she Is unmarried, a
love story is a live bait cast Into the
shallow waters of susceptibility sure to
catch from one to half a dozen notes
of varying Import. Furthermore, if
the signature has a tang of youth and
style, Gwendolen Armstrong or Dorothy
Pembroke, a subconscious conviction
; created in the reader's mind is that the
vriter is not only single, but young.
And we assume that In this day and
generation no one whose work has been
recognized uses a pen name.
• Given these conditions, if the mas
culine reader is impressed with the
story he is pretty cure to read the
writer's personality into it. If the
story vivisects the soul of some bright
eyed young thing with curly hair who
<3ares and suffers for the man she loves,
the nature of the notes that drift in
to the writer, sent through the pub
lisher, will be Intensely personal. One
note wrMten in a fine, free hand on
TValdorf-Aftorla paper apropos of just
this sort cf Ftorjv runs with the most
charming frankness:
"Dear Miss : I have Just put
down your story 'Till Death Shall Us
Part.' It Is simply great. Do you
draw your characters from real life,
and did you ever know a girl who
would do as much for & fellow this
girl did? If so, I would cross the con
tinent at a moment's notice to meet
her. I am so sick of all this d n
sham of knowing people only on the
ear face."
Another note inspired by the came
story is frbm a more exacting soul:
"Dear Miss : Did you write
this story from your own experience?
Excuse me for seeming to be personal,
but I would like to knov If you were
ever placed in that Bams predicament
yourself. If the man had not come
to his senses when he did, do you
suppose that girl •would have gone on
\u25a0waiting without losing' her cheerful
ness? Would you have done the same
for a fellow? "Will you let me cor
respond with you? I Inclose a stamped
envelope, and hops to hear from you
soon."
The fiction writer is regarded, while
the spell of the story Is on the reader,
as the real creator of thesa story peo
ple, holding their destiny in the hollow
of his hand and dealing out mercy or
vengeance as the case requires.
Another missive, a ring of sincerity
in every word, runs: . '
"Dear Miss : I have read your
story, "Marianne/ twice without stop
ping. Now, that's the girl I have been
looking for all my life. But you can't
prt to know a girl well enough, tome
how, to tell whether she would make
r good wife or not. Now, what \u25a0would
you have done In that same case? I
don't Bee how you could know bo much
about the matter if you were not the
same kind of a glrL Are you married
or single? Do you believe in th« im
mortality of the eoul7 I hope you will
answer this letter In as good faith as
I have written it." adding as an after
thought the postscript, "I own a farm
In South Dakota."
"I know, this Is the story of your
own life from the •way you \u25a0write it."
' argues a sympathetic soul on a. plumb-
Ing and gas fitting letterhead. "I had
something like the same experience
TrMen I was little more \ than a kid
\u25a0working as apprentice In Cheyenne. It
Is a pretty tough pull, I know, but I
Just want to tell you that you will get
ov«r it In time. lam over It now en
tirely and never think, of that freckle
faced girl without I am reminded of It
by something like this. Thafs why I
6ay to you you •will get over this, too."
But before signing his name he sug
gests the possibility of following up
this acquaintance on the ground that
he enjoys . the society of "literary
ladles." . f
The recipient, of a note of this sort
must always keep ' in mind, however,
that before it has reached her desk the
ardor of the sender has probably cooled
and he is cursing his plgheadedness .1 or
having written it. Consequently if she
answered such notes in the vein in:
which they are wrltten^her reply. would
fall upon Etony ground. The • safest
i "
way is to wait long enough before an
swering to let the enthusiasm of the
sender of the note wear off, then
thank him for the kind things he has
said about your wofk in a broad and
general way, avoiding confessions of a
personal nature. This is usually the
end of the reader's Interest in you. To
this rule, however, the, plumber is a
persistent exception. He lives in. Gal
veston, has a half interest in several
mining- claims In Arizona, gets $6 a
day and is — alas^ unmarried. !
To the everlasting chagrin of the
writerling, it must be confessed she
has learned her lesson by practical ex
perience. There was one little note
whose appeal was so strong she fol
lowed a -sudden impulse to answer it
in the spirit in which it was written.
"Dear Miss ," the note cried,
"do you mean to give the impression
that anywhere in this cold, selfish
world there is so much heart and sym
pathy, or Is your story a. satire on the
conditions of 'modern .life? "What put
It Into your heart to write that story?
Could your own beat as truly for any
one?" .•\u25a0\u25a0•:'. - :';.--; \u25a0 y? 1 . -'- ' '''.-'*
There was more— just a little bit — in
the same vein, and this note was saved
from the big pile and slipped into a
pigeonhole marked "special." 3
"Dear Mr. -," the author of the
story wrote in reply, "I made the girl
in my story act In what seems to mo
consistent with any truly •womanly
character under the stress of such cir
cumstances." and so on In a way that
gave her a chance to pose as the model
of 'the girl in the story. It was an ill
advised thing to do, she knew when
she did it; but the writer of the note
seemed desolate and heart hungry, and
at the time she, too, felt a bit lonely.
Several weeks elapsed before :an an
swer came in a woman's handwriting
Informing the person who had written
to her husband about some fool story
that she might consider the episode
closed.
The more old fashioned heroics you
put Into a story the surer you are of
finding a claimant ! for your inspira
tion. And the frankness with which
"I am that man," or "that woman was
myself," is avowed quite takes away
your breath. If every Christian virtue
and every heroic deed recorded In the
history of the world could be combined
and embodied In one good looking hero
figure, he . would be 'claimed^ by. some
one as. the prototype of his own char
acter and tha writer charged with
drawing his model from real life. Thesa
are the people who Imagine their steps
dogged by. the plot hunter and hint
darkly at members. of thelr-own house
holds being tr-r-raitors to their oonfl
dence, quite oblivious of tha 80,000,000
other people In the United States with
possible heart histories— they are sura
to allude to them as "heart histories" —
of their own, In the Importance of their
little one act drama. . ,
Names, too, are an unfailing source
of suggestion to a self conscious public.
It is the aim. of the author to avoid
anything personal in names' and his
golden mean is a name non&ommlttal
yet not too commonplace, but it is a
safe hazard that there never, was a
heroic : character . presented through
printed columns j that! some" good soul
does not, flatter- himself is ; named for"
him.: For : instance;" a; lovely, blue. ; eyed
young thing living: In "a world of yachts :
. and automobiles . and ; whom the',lllus
trator makes slender, 'graceful ? and
aristocratic looking is the motif of this
effusion::
"Dear Miss — — : My name is Elizabeth'
Blakely, like the girl in your, story,
although everybody always calls me
Mamie. Where, did you ever meet me?
I did not : know \u25a0} you knew"; me.. . But,
anyway, I don't mind If, you do put me
Into your stories; you ; can put me in all
of! them if you , want to." °
The pink paper with its cheap scent
and the uncertain characters with
which it is defaced, asida from the de
fective spelling, point; to' a - possible
discrepancy In the quality of | the du
plicate Elizabeth Blakelys. But little
Mamie' Blakely, whose postmark is Red
Lick. Neb., will be telling her grand
children some day how.. It .happened
that she . was made the heroine of a
story in an illustrated magazine, f
Another note, smacking of .schoolgirl
teens, drops in upon tha writer \ one
morning with this kind correction:
."Dear Lady — You have' spelled my name
wrong; I spell it Margarete Bloomfleld
and you have gone and Bpelled: It in
your story Marguerite. I ani awfully,
sorry this mistake has happened bo
causo there are lots of people who will
not think this Is me. Next time' please
remember I spell It Margarete, which I
think is much ; prettier. anU a good deal
easier." •. \ :\u25a0;.-.'\u25a0- - ':'•-, ' {\u25a0\u25a0"\u25a0 . r .,%.
A small check . Inclosed as "hush
money" in ah- unsigned \iote la the best
proof .the "writer has ever ) had of " the
way a shoe sometimes pinches. "Dear,
Madam— Here is a check which I think
will make it yworth .your while to' say
nothing more -about the little matter
you took up in your story, .'Bound for
a Term.' I can't think how you got
wind of it, but I'll tell you this: jit
won't do you any good to air what you
know." , . :' '
Occasionally little notes^ come in ' : to
the author thanking her for the pleas
ure some story or article has given the
reader, signed but »with no address
given, showing they, are merely an ex
pression of ; appreciation with no hope
of a reply. . Then there are the auto
graph " hunters who tell you frankly
they want only your name or who tell
you that while they recognize the 'fact
that you; are, not famous today .they,
predict a future. for you and think your
name; will be worth while in time
bargain hunters .getting your name
while it is easy!.
» i EXT to the popular matinee idol
I^l it is, perhaps, the man behind-
I \J\ the pen - whose i 'path is most
\u25a0: • thickly set with : the woman
thorn^ The young fellow who > has
grown up revering. his mother, loving
his sisters' and respecting: his.'friends
learns "regretfully : ; this side of the
woman possibility when he begins to
reach the public through his pen.
The idle life of the- apartment house,
superficial education' and lackof prac
tical- training 'and ; employment are
doubtless directly responsible for this
• want of womanly reserve,, but the
sociological conditions back of this
"overdevelopment of the emotional side
of a certain class "of women make the
result no less abnormal.
Two qualifications for this state of
affairs are always requisite — an .undis
ciplined mind and : unemployed -time.
The writer would ho willing to wager
a year's^ income that if . every woman
,who, before she sits down to write her
'''soul, sentiments" to the. author- of a
"purple" love story, would spend A one
whole day occupied in normal, domes
tic duties ; the note would never .be
written.; The hands that sew on but
tons,.dust : away , cobwebs, , wash dishes
and do the innumerable useful, whole
some things for which they are by: na
ture designed |do not ' pen hysterics on
soul heroics./ For /-extreme cases ' a
day's scrubbing might be necessary to
reduce ' the • hands to their proper
sphere, but -once: roughened and : red-,
dened by hot soapsuds and a good.' stiff |
scrubbing brush, -they would ,not race
so glibly over eight- pages of mono
gram paper to /ebulllate into the ears,
of a strange man "the- subsurface fer-..
•ment of a misdirected temperament"
.. The author, who creates: a. strong,"
self-sacrificing j and self-respecting
.womanly .character,.- not : beautiful /nor
\u25a0 surrountJed.-byf: suitors, ; rriay possibly
| receive! .a few sane,'' simple notes from
•his readers,;, thanking him for : the
.pleasure and source of strength* his
book i has 'been to them. ; But; let him
evolve a wraith , of the. mist, a bubble,
of the air woman, -with 'neither char
acters nor .; principle, but with a snake
: 7 like \: fascination - for':; the flock *of •" men |
always 'surrounding her," with the heart :
,;of a vampire and the face of the virgin,
and v every tenth woman 'who squanders
six good working hours over his "rot
will squander, another -hour, composing
a letter to him in perhaps this style —
this note is chosen at random from a
pile: . V
"My Dear Mr. ;; — •: The character
of Volna in your beautiful and delight
ful book sets a chord vibrating In my
nature that has never before been
touched. Now, at last, I understand
why it is that "certain sensitive, iso
lated temperaments are born to live
and suffer, misunderstood by all around
them." You, who have evidently made
a study of this unusual temperament,
must be Interested in the type at large,
so I am going- to ask you to tell me
whether it Is your conviction that this
exquisite, exotic creature was destined
by a cruel fate never to meet her truo
eoulmate and lived put her short life
lonely and misunderstood."
Idleness, vanity, morbid selfishness
are stamped In indelible characters all
over this note; this la the sort of
woman who has never a .thought for
others .from morning^tlll night and
whose four lUtle glass walls are clos
ing in on her. with deadly certainty.
These notes, I think, are not usually
taken seriously enough, by an author
to be answered; he knows too well that
the episode of both book and letter
will be lost In the thrills of the next
novel; but this note has been made an
exception and was answered at length
in this wise:
"My 'dear; madam: The character
of Volna,. to my mind, represents a
wholly weak and worthless woman, .
•used merely as a foil to Learsworth;
one of the calamities he overcame. I
hope her type does not exist beyond
the covers of a book. The only anti
dote for it. however, is hard work and
plenty of it in the fresh air and gun
shine. If you know of any one suffer
ing from symptoms of the Volna na
ture. Induce her to try vigorous lawn
mowing/raising a vegetable garden
and committing to memory the ninety
first psalm."/
To this class of women, idle, self
indulgent, undisciplined and with no
firm basis of principle, nourished on an
unwholesome 'diet -of morbid fiction,
the author becomes a sort of vice
providence, . who rules his domain with
improved' modern methods, palliating
attractive _sins and * condoning smart
crimes against the old fashioned deca
logue. Foninstance:
:"I, like Lady Millicent In your story
'Millw'orth,'; am the unhappy * complex
ity of the failings of my forefathers. I
can't help what I do. Do you. believe
there Is any use In trying to stem the
current of fate or heredity or what
ever, you call; it? You, with a nature
s broad enough to transcend the " petty
1 conventions ._. :. -,-\u25a0 of .-- • this ] commonplace
\u25a0world.- seem to be , the only person who
understands me,' although we have
never met.. v Do you ever come to Mil
waukee? If so, do not fail to let me
- know it." •' The T note goes -^on a few "
pages further, , hinting at; a possible
correspondence - on-: a- "soul plane" to
'which her husband .could nof possibly
object, .even, if he were keen enough'
and ; she: stupid enough to admit of a
discovery.; : . All., of 'which' reveals a
broad purple streak kept In -bounds ; by
herV surroundings, not by her own vir
tue; {the JvapOrizings ! of an overworked \
i writerman* ; manufacturing "entertain
ment- at so ; ; much - per 'word "being
caught *at i for :an excuse for drifting
towards inevitable damnation ;\u25a0; in defi
ance of ; certain ironclad "thou shalt
"nots" * n In (vogue -long before her; code'
Tlie San Francisco Sunday Can
If your publisher insists upon run
' nln~ your photograph with the an
. nounfement of your forthcoming book.
i you Istand with breas,* ,bared to the
enemy. Having dredged . the murky
•depths of your mind through your
. printed pages, and your countenance
• having become familiar through adver
i tisements. your idle minded woman
I reader regards you no longer as a
strange man. You are now a fair tar
get for her confessions. The«\woman
thorn in the author's path, unlike that
of the popular actor, is not the senti
mental, unformed school girl who falls
in love with the stage hero because
he goes down on his knees so grace
1 fully or has such curly hair. The
letters the author receives are mostly
from married women who have ex
perienced enough of life to understand
covert conditions and Implied predica
ments, living on emotional chocolate
. creams and scorning brown bread and
gravy. And. worst of all. doubtless
supported in their idleness by a fond,
hard working, unsuspecting husband.
dubbedby the discontented wife "slow"
because allowed no time to lift his
nose from the grindstone. ; »',';
"You understand the soul of woman,'*
runs in a pointed scrawl crosswise
over six blue pages, "so I know you
are one of the few souls who would
understand the phases of. my nature.
I saw your picture in the advertisement
'of your book, and I am sure It we
could only meet it would mean tha
liberation of my soul. If you will an
swer my letter I promise to burn It
before the- touch of your hand has
grown cold. My husband la Indifferent
and neglectful, but I was born to ex
pand in an atmosphere of lova and
appreciation."
Sometimes a confiding soul •with a
"past" will, figuratively, whisper In tho
author's ear by means of an anonymous
letter a pitiful, commonplace little
story to be used for. tha plot of a
book, sometimes with and sometimes
•without hope of remuneration.
"This is ray own life tragedy," writes
one woman after one of these all too
common experiences. '"I have never
told It to any living human being but
yourself. Under the magic of your
touch you will be able to work it Into
a powerful theme, and no imaginary
heroine, if I do say It. could have
loved, suffered and endured more he
roically than I have done. My right
name is Elfza, but I- would prefer to
be called Violet in your book."
Next. to the glory of going on the
stage as the Injured innocent comes
the longing to figure In a love story
as the lovely, misunderstood heroine,
for the woman who puts all her "cuss
edness" down to the fact of being
misunderstood Is the woman who de
ludes herself into believing herself the
prototype of every wronged heroine
she reads about.
The soul of a woman, w-« have been
told, shines through the way In which
she does two things — says her prayers
and "does up" her hair — but th© Man
behind the Pen h,as no need for this
Index to her character. As her Maker
sees h<*r, the -authorrnan knows her.
Secure In the consciousness that she.
individually, is unknown to him she
has no compunctions about settling In
his mind a type of vain, morbid, use
less womanhood, and. strangely enough,
most of thesa soul heroics and eoul
gymnastics seem to com* from tfca
middle west. Two out of every threa
of these notes of tha abnormal sort
are postmarked from some small town
In the great corn belt wher* tha corn
fed soul seems to outstrip tha develop
ment of reason, -judgment and discre
tion. The word "discretion" la wtrnd
here in its strongest eenso, tot a
woman, married but Imperfectly mono
gamous, who strips ciT tha dlaguLi* of
mqrality before a strange man leaves
her poor, naked llttla soul shXverlajr In
tha cold light of his scorn, «!«a»rvlnjj
no charity and no quarter.
Simply because a man who must
support a family and wife of Ms own
elects to do It by writing lore stories
he Is supposed by these harpies to b«
surcharged with emotion, havlnff tha
real thing always on tap at tha call
of the overfed.- underworked, married
woman whose husband's stockings ar»
out at the heel, whoso soul had never
felt the purifying emotion of mother
hood because of her selfishness and
vanity, who lives- In a hotel or apart
ment house because cooking Is too
sordid for one of her sensitive tam
pirament, and whose husband Is "slow"
or "neglectful" for the sole reason that
in order to meet her 'expenses ha work 3
after hours, leaving her to entertain
\u25a0; herself with. morbid reading.
This class of women, unknown to the
writer a generation ago. is growing
with tho growth of the- conditions that
foster It. Idleness and vanity are the
direct causes, and the only sure ant!-