Paranoiacs

Monday, November 25th., Chiltern Court, London.

I have just read two novels which I fear must be the decadent fruits of paranoia. 

The first is "Tarka the Otter" by Henry Williamson. Instead of dealing with mankind, Mr. Williamson deals with otters, fish and other aquatic and amphibious beings. His knowledge of them and his imaginative sympathy with them are really astonishing. But is not this preoccupation with beasts and fish a sure symptom of paranoia? "Tarka the Otter" has been very highly praised by some of the finest literary critics in our depraved land. I agree that it is marvellous. And the writing of it is marvellous. Indeed to my mind the writing of it is too marvellous. I consider it to be over-written, marked by a certain preciosity. The author has searched too often and too long for the utterly right word. But I have no other criticism.

The second novel is "The Bridge of San Luis Rey" by Thornton Wilder. It deals, I regret to say, with life in the early eighteenth century in such mad places as Lima. And a strange and hot, decadent lot the characters indeed are! Paranoiacs, nearly every one of them, and their creator a paranoiac, according to what I can gather of the definitions of Dr. Hyslop. A horrid qualm seizes me - I may be a paranoiac myself! In my opinion "The Bridge of San Luis Rey" is an absolutely first-rate work. It dazzled me by its accomplishment. The writing, simple, straight, juste and powerful, has not been surpassed in the present epoch. This author does not search for the right word. He calls; it comes. Here is a sample of the writing: "She saw that the people of this world moved about in an armour of egotism, drunk with self-gazing, athirst for compliments, hearing little of what was said to them, unmoved by the accidents which befell their closest friends, in dread of all appeals that might interrupt their long communion with their own desires."

I regret to write, but honesty compels me to declare, that the imaginative power of these two writers is now beyond my reach. Such is the effect of growing old.