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The Spike or Victoria University College Review 1934

"Von" Delivers Judgment

"Von" Delivers Judgment

It seems that you, like other editors of College magazines I have known, tremble beneath the printer's lash, and brook no delay in collecting your pound of copy. But for that, I should have chosen another morning to comment on the literary efforts you sent me for criticism. To-day is wet and cold, and I've just read a magazine article of my own with misprints such as "utterly destroy the meaning," like Dean Alford's comma. Not a great disaster; but for the moment one wants to hit somebody, and here are your contributors to hand. At this time of year, it is not surprising that the number of entries should be small, and perhaps not that the quality should be disappointing, in comparison with the "Clay Patch," and much good poetry and bright verse that has appeared in your columns since then. The examination virus is seasonal, and V.U.C. students about extravaganza time are different beings from the hunted and harrassed wretches

When the month is the month of October

In the wet-towelled studies of Weir.

More than that, I am convinced that an incubus like our education system, an examination-spewing Frankenstein—nobody's fault exactly, chiefly force of circumstances, cannot exert its influence in the community for a generation without a lowering of standards. Now that my spleen has been vented, I can think kindly of the promise and merit of some of these contributions. Two of them, signed E.F.H., not entered for competition, seem to me much better than those entered above the same initials. The poem I liked best was "Inconstancy"; it contains a thought, even though not a very exciting one; it maintains its rather pedestrian rhythm and its metaphorical trappings with coherent consistency. Next I should place "Crater Lake," which might have come first, having a rhythm and some evocative power, but for two or three ill-chosen words—too many for so short an effort. Then P.P.P. must be praised for a perfect mastery of what is now rather an old-fashioned sense of rhythm; delightful to me, because I feel sure that he or she—whether ever destined to be a poet or not—can at least enjoy poetry and appreciate the magic of words. There are few better gifts the kind fairies can bestow. That is where "Silences" is less successful. I feel sure that the writer would have avoided the conspicuous weaknesses by choosing a less ambitious form. In the sonnet it is particularly difficult to manage enjambement without ear-shattering breaks in the rhythm, and to avoid the impression that "la rime amène l'idèe," as Victor Hugo puts it. I have said nothing so far of the one prose contribution, simply because I can't compare prose with verse; it seems to me that in the absence of an outstanding superiority, the poem that demands the higher qualities of ear and of word-appreciation must win. But the prose piece is good, I should say as good in its field as any of the others. It made me laugh, it was well written, it reached a good climax and even a "mot de la fin." Macte virtue, puer! You can and will write.

Now, Mr. Editor, let me apologise for the scrappiness of these criticisms—partly your fault! and remain

Sincerely,

G. W. Von Zedlitz.