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st certainly puts you at the head — a long away ahead
— of all contemporary imaginative writers。 If fiction is best cultivated in the field of pure invention then you are certainly the first of modern novelists。 “Solomon’s Mines” is left far behind。 It is not only the central conception that is so splendid in its audacity; but it is your logical and pitiless working out of the whole thing in its inevitable details that strikes me with astonishment。
I do not know what the critics will say about it。 Probably they will not read more than they can help and then let you off with a few general expressions。 If the critic is a woman she will put down this book with the remark that it is impossible — almost all women have this feeling towards the marvellous。
Whatever else you do; you will have “She” always behind you for purposes of odious parison。 And whatever critics say the book is bound to be a magnificent success。 Also it will produce a crop of imitators。 And all the little conventional story…tellers will be jogged out of their grooves — until they find new ones 。 。 。 。
Yours very sincerely;
Walter Besant。
Certainly Besant was quite right when he said that I should always have “She” behind me “for purposes of odious parison。” I always have。 Quite a large proportion of my critics during many years have mentioned in the course of their reviews of various works from my pen that the one under consideration is not another “She;” or words to that effect。 As though a man’s brain could harbour a host of “Shes”! Such literary polygamy is not possible。 Only one love of this kind is given to him。
The second letter that I a friend who I am glad to say still lives; Mr。 Edmund Gosse; the distinguished author and man of letters。16
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