As for
the greater difficulty of the short story, ask any novelist who has
succeeded equally well in both. Ask Thomas Hardy, ask George Meredith, ask
Joseph Conrad, ask H.G. Wells, ask Murray Gilchrist, ask George Moore, ask
Eden Phillpotts, ask "Q," ask Henry James. Lo! I say to all facile
gabblers about the "art of the short story," as the late "C.-B." said to
Mr. Balfour: "Enough of this foolery!" It is of a piece with the notion
that a fine sonnet is more difficult than a fine epic.
MIDDLE-CLASS
[_4 Feb. '09_]
As a novelist, a creative artist working in the only literary "form" which
widely appeals to the public, I sometimes wonder curiously what the public
is. Not often, because it is bad for the artist to think often about the
public. I have never by inquiry from those experts my publishers learnt
anything useful or precise about the public. I hear the words "the
public," "the public," uttered in awe or in disdain, and this is all. The
only conclusion which can be drawn from what I am told is that the public
is the public. Still, it appears that my chief purchasers are the
circulating libraries. It appears that without the patronage of the
circulating libraries I should either have to live on sixpence a day or
starve.
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