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She is an occasional contributor to periodicals. As a rule she is classified, rather astonishingly, as a "romantic realist," or a " sentimental satirist."
Some books to have read: Many Marriages (Anderson) ; Black Oxen (Atherton) ; Things That Have Interested Me (Bennett); The Enchant- ed April (Elizabeth) ; Faint Perfume (Gale) ; Essays at Large (Squire).
The Intimate Touch
The Obstacle of Unreality in Fiction When old Mrs. Plunkett dropped her grandchild accidentally from the second story window of her house on South Main Street, the episode was a source of considerable satisfaction to her neighbors. They gathered in little agitated groups to discuss the child, the grandmother, the window, the space between the window and the street, a crack in the pavement supposed (erroneously) to be due to the sudden contact of child and concrete. The whole town, from barber shop to post office, buzzed with commentary.
Not that there was anything extraordinary or particularly significant about the occurrence. If he had merely read about it in the papers, no one would have given it a second thought. But inasmuch as every one knew Mrs. Plunkett, knew that she liked spinach for lunch and suspected that a square bottle figured prominently in her evening's routine, inasmuch as they had all sworn at and played with and tripped over the infant, the whole incident gave them talking material for weeks.
This is just another of those unexpected parallelisms between life and literature. In a book, if the characters are themselves real to you their smallest gestures will be of interest. If in Mr. Babbitt you recognize Uncle Ted or Cousin Ephraim, the process of Mr. Babbitt's morning toilet will take on new beauties.
In the ordinary popular novel, characters have very much the aspect of vague and distorted shadows on a distant horizon. It is hard to be interested in a vague and distorted shadow, as long as it does nothing more than brush its shadowy teeth, kiss its shadowy wife good morning, spank its shadowy children and scratch its shadowy itch. If on the other hand the shadow suddenly seizes eight Colt .45's in as many sinewy hands and begins popping away at an army or two of shadowy redskins, the procedure begins to awaken a certain interest.
That, roughly, is why the works of Zane Grey, Edgar Rice Burroughs and Ethel Dell share the best-seller lists with those of Sinclair Lewis, Zona Gale and Anzia Yezierska. It is a question of emphasis. When the character is not in himself interesting, interest must be developed by underscoring his doings.
A real cow in a field is interesting. But so is any cow, real or unreal, jumping over the moon. J. A. T.
Kathleen Norris
A Lady of Importance