DOI article:
James, Henry: The next time
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.27805#0042
The Next Time
38
beautiful stories in the magazine. As to the beauty of his story,
however, Limbert was going to be less admirably straight than as
to the beauty of everything else. That was another reason why
I mustn’t write about his new line : Mr. Bousefield was not to be
too definitely warned that such a periodical was exposed to prosti-
tution. By the time he should find it out for himself, the public—
h gros public-—would have bitten, and then perhaps he would be
conciliated and forgive. Everything else would be literary in
short, and above all I would be ; only Ralph Limbert wouldn’t—-
he’d chuck up the whole thing sooner. He’d be vulgar, he’d be
rudimentary, he’d be atrocious : he’d be elaborately what he hadn’t
been before.
I duly noticed that he had more trouble in making “ everything
else ” literary than he had at first allowed for ; but this was largely
counteracted by the ease with which he was able to obtain that
that mark should not be overshot. He had taken well to heart
the old lesson of the Beacon ; he remembered that he was after
all there to keep his contributors down much rather than to keep
them up. I thought at times that he kept them down a trifle
too far, but he assured me that I needn’t be nervous : he had his
limit—his limit was inexorable. He would reserve pure vulgarity
for his serial, ovet which he was sweating blood and water ;
elsewhere it should be qualified by the prime qualification, the
mediocrity that attaches, that endears. Bousefield, he allowed, was
proud, was difficult: nothing was really good enough for him but
the middling good ; but he himself was prepared for adverse
comment, resolute for his noble course. Hadn’t Limbert more-
over, in the event of a charge of laxity from headquarters, the
great strength of being able to point to my contributions ?
Therefore I must let myself go, I must abound in my peculiar
sense, I must be a resource in case of accidents. Limbert’s vision
of
38
beautiful stories in the magazine. As to the beauty of his story,
however, Limbert was going to be less admirably straight than as
to the beauty of everything else. That was another reason why
I mustn’t write about his new line : Mr. Bousefield was not to be
too definitely warned that such a periodical was exposed to prosti-
tution. By the time he should find it out for himself, the public—
h gros public-—would have bitten, and then perhaps he would be
conciliated and forgive. Everything else would be literary in
short, and above all I would be ; only Ralph Limbert wouldn’t—-
he’d chuck up the whole thing sooner. He’d be vulgar, he’d be
rudimentary, he’d be atrocious : he’d be elaborately what he hadn’t
been before.
I duly noticed that he had more trouble in making “ everything
else ” literary than he had at first allowed for ; but this was largely
counteracted by the ease with which he was able to obtain that
that mark should not be overshot. He had taken well to heart
the old lesson of the Beacon ; he remembered that he was after
all there to keep his contributors down much rather than to keep
them up. I thought at times that he kept them down a trifle
too far, but he assured me that I needn’t be nervous : he had his
limit—his limit was inexorable. He would reserve pure vulgarity
for his serial, ovet which he was sweating blood and water ;
elsewhere it should be qualified by the prime qualification, the
mediocrity that attaches, that endears. Bousefield, he allowed, was
proud, was difficult: nothing was really good enough for him but
the middling good ; but he himself was prepared for adverse
comment, resolute for his noble course. Hadn’t Limbert more-
over, in the event of a charge of laxity from headquarters, the
great strength of being able to point to my contributions ?
Therefore I must let myself go, I must abound in my peculiar
sense, I must be a resource in case of accidents. Limbert’s vision
of