Literary Taste
Fashion in Literature. By E. E. Kellett. (Routledge. 12s. 6d.) " FASHION," wrote a nineteenth-century cynic, " is the one perfectly unreasonable excuse for acting unreasonably." Mr. Kellett, nevertheless, sets out to chronicle the history of Fashion in literature, and succeeds, amid a wealth of irrationalities, in finding here and there a modicum of reason for this or that deflection of taste. " Taste," indeed, is the more proper subject of his book, and with it he begins. Starting with the derivation of the word itself, the author stresses its connexion with the physical senses, particularly the sense of touch, traces its development when applied to the arts, contrasts it with a mere " relish," and finally outlines the process by which it has come to embrace " some of the highest -powers of the human mind." In these early chapters Mr. Kellett is excellent, always perspicuous and never dogmatic. If he errs at all, it is on the side of over-generous illustration of his points.
From the consideration of Taste in general, and the evolution of Taste, the author next passes to Literary Taste and, thence, by logical steps, to Criticism. Here Mr. Kellett is on more debateable ground, and our assent is less readily won. Thus, when he says that there is " no sound, word, or combination Of words which is beautiful in itself," but rather that all words carry associations and suggestions which determine their effect upon the reader, we agree unhesitatingly, knowing that he has perceived the fallacy of Croce's " aesthetic emotion " and escaped the pitfalls dug by the supporters of " significant form." Further, when he writes that a book is " the result of a chemical combination between author and reader " and that beauty is " a function of the sympathy between the paint- ing and a changing spectator, between the poem and the alter- ing reader " we again agree, substantially if less whole- heartedly, and rejoice that he has read Professor Richards and the critics of the Cambridge School. But when, recognizing the inescapable fact that every reader has his own private set of associations, Mr. Kellett goes on to assert, that a book (or a poem) is therefore " the impression it makes on this reader, on another, and yet another," we pause to consider just where all this is leading us to. For the logical conclusion of such an argument, taken in conjunction with earlier statements anent the impracticability of proving one person's taste superior to another's, precludes the possibility of any sort of standard of taste whatever. Mr. Kellett admits this frankly, and gets over the difficulty by introducing, as a kind of deus ex machina, the expert or trained observer—the " critic " in fact—whose opinion we have to take on trust, much as we take that of the doctor or the astronomer. But is this really the long and the short of it ? Isn't it, perhaps, only half the truth ? The artist, be he poet, painter or musician, admittedly speaks to an infi- nitely varied audience each member of which will make an individual reaction to the artist's work. But isn't it part of the latter's duty to exercise some degree of compulsion over the associations which his words, forms, or rhythms carry, and by this means control the nature of the response which they evoke ? How otherwise can there be any relevant communication be- tween poet and reader ? And isn't it just because of the similarity, within limits, not the discrepancy of the responses made, say to a poem, by those whose equipment and training qualifies them for the name of critic, that we accord them the respect we do ? And, finally, doesn't this very agreement among those best fitted to judge, point to the validity of a psy- chological theory of value for the arts, such as modern critics have tended more and more to adopt ?
These and such like questions arise inevitably as one reads Mr. Kellett's pages, and it is the measure of the interest of his book that they are both so frequent and so provocative. Its weakness, one feels, is that it leaves too many of them partly or totally unanswered. Even when the author does carry his analysis a point or two further he is apt, rather distressingly, to land himself in absurdities. As, for example, when he en- larges on the instability of literary reputations, and reaches the odd conclusion that " poetry that suits its time must, so far, be true poetry " : a statement which, if it has any meaning at all, is demonstrably untrue. To which Mr. Kellett may well reply that-his subject is the history of Taste, not a study of kindred aesthetic problems, and that he is only concerned to state the latter briefly, with a few passing comments, as and when they arise. This is a just retort, but one which does not altogether excuse the author from wetting our metaphysical appetite so temptingly when, with almost equal justice to his subject, he could have left it undisturbed. However, when Mr. Kellett does pass to the more concrete aspects of his theme, to the consideration of the principal fashions which have affected literature at different times, he is again scholarly and precise. Always modest, he betrays immense erudition in dealing with his diverse topics, and there are few on which he has not some- ;thing new to say. On the taste for the Precious and the Ingenious he is, perhaps, a little limited, a little hard on the 'makers of conceits, but this, one feels, is because Mr. Kellett in his heart of hearts does not really care for Donne. On the taste for Rhetoric, the Exotic, for Hyperbole and on Art for Art's Sake he is uniformly sound and sensible, and on the Grotesque he is particularly illuminating. Taken as a whole his book is of enormous interest, always stimulating, never dull: And if, from time to time, he is a little inclined to make mean: ingless generalizations like " every reader of poetry knows that mere poetry is hardly ever true poetry at all " ; inclined, dare we -say it, occasionally to talk through his hat, that is the peculiar privilege of those who have the courage to tackle
problems of the Soul and Matters Metaphysical."
1. M. PARSONS.
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