Truth - Thursday, April 11, 1895

THE DOOM OF MORBID LITERATURE.

Oscar Wilde is to be tried for certain offences, and it would be improper, therefore, to prejudice justice by the expression of an opinion as to his guilt or innocence. The libel trial at the Old Bailey, however, was not needed to tell us that books in prose and poetry are published, and find a considerable sale, the general tone of which is loathsome to all right-minded persons. Against such literature it is full time to protest. When I was a young man, I was like unto many other young men. My morals were not precisely those of a young girl, nor were my ways. But in those far-off days any one publishing a novel, such as those which now so frequently appear from the pens of unmanly men and unwomanly women, would not have been tolerated in decent society any more than the girl-men, with their effeminate affectations, and their "pretty Fanny" ways, whom Society now delights to honour, as though they were the apostles of some new and advanced phases of humanity. We have, nowadays, a galaxy of authors whose minds are essentially diseased, and who seem to imagine that the inner workings of these diseased minds cannot be too openly made known in the interests of mankind. Their morbid emotions and nasty imaginings they regard as the outcome of the emancipation of artistic minds from the narrow prejudices of ordinary mortals. At first they are probably actuated by the mere desire to draw attention to their obscure individualities by startling paradox. But no sooner do they force their way into notoriety, than the praise of fools leads them to believe that they have a "message" to the world. Each professes to found a new school, of which he or she is recognised as the "Master." The Masters discuss in lengthy essays each other’s special doctrines, and, whilst differing on details, agree in lauding the beauty of each other’s garbage. The mutual admiration of these prophets and prophetesses, whose sole bond of union is to outrage the ordinary conception of decent writing, is one of the most strange characteristics of the tribe. To me all this inspires loathing. I make no sort of profession of being hyper-goody-goody in my literary tastes. Homo sum, nihil humani. . . . I am a reader and admirer of Rabelais, of Fielding, of Smollett, and of many modern French novelists. I do not hesitate to say that the coarseness which to the modern mind disfigures the plays of the Restoration, and many of the great works of former days, is neither so pernicious nor so foul as the tone that pervades the decadent "sex problem" novel of to-day. Had I a son, I should prefer to see him devote himself to the "call a spade a spade" novels of Zola, rather than to find that he is an admirer of these latter-day emancipators from all that is sound and health. From Ibsen down to the humblest of the third-rate poets, who publishes his unsavoury longings and emotions in inharmonious verse, I loathe, I say, the entire crew.

The law can do nothing. But public opinion can do much. So long as people buy these books, so long as they discuss them, so long as they profess admiration for them and for their authors, demand will be met with supply. We have reached the point when the best advertisement for the sale if a book is for the newspapers to tell people that it ought never to have been written. I was talking to a lady a few weeks ago, whose novels and tales have given pleasure to countless thousands, and I asked her whether she was writing anything. She replied that her publisher had told her that she should write in the new style, and that when she asked him what this style was, he had said that it was Ibseny and Green-Carnationy. As she did not feel equal to this, she was waiting until the demand for this new style had had its day. She will not have to wait long.

The "artistic mind" apparently holds that there cannot be anything wrong in thoughts, or in conveying thoughts to others. This is rampant nonsense; but when theory is translated into practice it is obvious that the law ought to step in if the practice conflicts with the law. In such case it has been held by the Home Office that exposure, with its necessary publicity, is more baneful to the community than toleration. There is something in this view, but I believe it to be an erroneous one, and events have proved that toleration is an incentive to evil, and that punishment should follow crime; and this is all the more necessary when offenders are generally persons in some sort of social position, for there ought to be one law for all. At the head of the Home Office there is at present a man of determination and of manly instincts. He should stop at nothing to stamp out a state of things which is becoming a national disgrace. I say advisedly that, again and again, when the police have had abundant evidence, they have been prevented from taking action. When the Criminal Law Amendment Act was before Parliament I moved the insertion of a clause to enable action to be taken surely and effectively. It was incorporated in the Act, but this has been of no avail. The Executive has no right to decide whether laws are to be enforced or not, and the assumption of this right to interfere in the action of the law when the classes are concerned is not likely to inspire respect for it amongst the masses. The police should be careful; they should not take action on mere presumption, but where there is a clear primâ facie case, the Home Office should not stop their hand. This however, I assert, has been the rule up to now, and with the very worst results.