' But no; I misrepresent our young lady. If she be conscious that
there are such tricks to be played, she despises them. When, later,
she finds the need to learn them, she still despises them. It seems to
her ridiculous that one should not speak and comport oneself as
artlessly on the stage as one does off it. The notion of speaking or
comporting oneself with conscious art in real life would seem to her
quite monstrous. It would puzzle her as much as her grandmother would
have been puzzled by the contrary notion.
Personally, I range myself on the grandmother's side. I take my stand
shoulder to shoulder with the Graces. On the banner that I wave is
embroidered a device of prunes and prisms.
I am no blind fanatic, however. I admit that artlessness is a charming
idea. I admit that it is sometimes charming as a reality. I applaud it
(all the more heartily because it is rare) in children. But then,
children, like the young of all animals whatsoever, have a natural
grace. As a rule, they begin to show it in their third year, and to
lose it in their ninth. Within that span of six years they can be
charming without intention; and their so frequent failure in charm is
due to their voluntary or enforced imitation of the ways of their
elders. In Georgian and Early Victorian days the imitation was always
enforced.
Pages:
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91