PATRONIZE
SALEMITE
ADVERTISERS
PATRONIZE
SALEMITE
ADVERTISERS
ol. XVII.
■\Vinston-Salein, N. C., Friday, November 13, 1936.
Number 9.
IVELCOME CHRISTOPHER MORLEY
BSONAl raORy
Among the younger group of
"lericau writers, perhaps no one is
■tter known than Christopher Dar-
'Ston Morley. llis father, English
’ hirth, came to Haverford College,
^nnsylvania, in 1887 as professor of
^thematics. Three years later,
'>id good booka and cultured sur-
'I’ldingH, his son was born. In 1900
® family moved to Baltimore where
Morley senior took the Chair of
'”'0 Mathematics at Johns Hopkins
diversity. Six years later, Chris-
Pl'er entered Haverford College as
freshman. His literary genius
became apparent, and he grad-
^*^cd with high honors, including the
'“odes Scholarship to Oxford, rep-
*onting the State of Maryland. At
College, Oxford, he wrote and
"Mished his first book, “The
^ehth Sin.”
1913 he returned to America and
p'barked on a publishijig teareer
I'tli iJoubleday, Page and Company,
ico then he has been, successively,
'*> of the editors of “The Ladies’
omo Journal,” “The Philadelphia
''cning Ledger, and “The New
“''k Evening Post. His newspaper
*lumn, “The Bowling Green” en-
'^red him to the readers of those
“'vspapers in which his whimsical
'»nients on life and letters ap-
®ared. Although it terminated in
*24, lie carries on the tradition with
s namesake running currently in
“Saturday Review of Litera-
ite. ’ >
jllis books are, for the most part,
Khe vein of “The Bowling Green,”
*'formal and gay, with a thread of
seriousness for those who read
'Ui carefully. “Parnassus On
I'lioels,” and “The Haunted Book
Popj” introduce the idea of the
f*gon bookshop, an idea which has
carried out, in reality, in var-
'‘'is parts of the country.
‘Shandygaff,” the first of his col-
■'tions of short sketches, followed
1' “Mince Pie,” “Plum Pudding,”
I“ipofuls,” and “Chimney Smoke,”
‘Iced him among the foremost essay
Hters of today. The fantasy,
Where the Blue Begins, ’ ’ tells in a
^If-humorous, half-serious but al-
''^ys delightful way, the story of
dog Qissing’s search for God.
Out of Mr. Morley’s lone sojourn in
(Continued On Page Three)
Christopher Morley arrived in
Salem this afternoon and attended
the Candle Tea held in the his
toric Widow’s House. After this,
Salem girls were allowed to meet Mr.
Morley personally in the recreation
room of Louisa Bitting Building.
EPIGRAMS
By Christopher Morley
“An autograph scrawled in jKiliti'
compliance is an escape, not ii com
munication.”
“A ([ueer thing about books, if
you open your heart to them, is the
instant and irresistable way they
follow yon with their appeal.”
“In tills age — we haven’t time
to be intelligent.”
“The enjoyment of literature is a
personal communion; it cannot be
outwardly instilled.”
“Letters should be spontaneous
outpourings; they should never be
undertaken from a sense of duty.”
“Ijctters’ like wines accumulate
bright fumes and bubbling if kept
under cork.”
“\Vc supose there is hardly a man
who lias not an apple orchard tucked
away in his heart somewhere”
“The opening and closing of doors
are the most significant actions of
a man’s life.”
“The wise man opens his front
door with humility and a spirit of
acceptance.”
CHRISTOPHER MORLEY
DRAMATIST
Christopher Morley is not gener
ally thought of as a playwright. In
the great hullabaloo over his prose
writings, novels, and essays, his little
bits of poetry and his one-act plays
seem to have been rather neglected.
His plays are Very much not ‘ ‘ the
usual thing.” He picks unusual
subjects and treats them in unusual
ways. “Good Theatre,” one of his
better known plays, shows the re
actions of Shakespeare and Francis
Bacon, who are making a visit to the
lobby of a Now York theatre while
a show is going on. ‘ ‘ On the Shelf, ’ ’
a fantasy, allows the characters out
of books on a library shelf to speak.
There are surely two of the oldest
and most boring plot devices to bo
found in one-act plays. Y'et, oddly
enough, the plays are extremely in
teresting. “Good Theatre,” is a
sharp satire on the “Broadway
Show.” “On the Shelf,” is a very
discerning comment on a tragedy
often seen in the literary world—an
author who has unconsciously for
feited his youthful literary ideals,
in order to becomq “productive,”
and to write “ best-sellers. ”
“Thursday Evening,” is a rather
well known comedy, dealing with the
young nmrried couple, whoso epiar-
rol is settled by two ingenious
mothera-in-law. 11 ere, at last, is a
man who treats a mother-in-law gent
ly —' why, even sympathetically,
lie goes so far as to give a moth
er-in-law a sense of humor All this
is quite against the tradition of our
stage.
“Kehearsal, ” is the sort of thing
at which you laugh out loud in the
library.
I must confess I covcred myself
with blushes reading “East of
Eden,” too. There’s no doubt about
it; Mr. Morley must have had a per
fectly rollicking time writing both
of those. ‘ ‘ Eehearsal ’ ’ gives a well-
earned dig at amateurs (all of these
hap]>en to be girls) who attempt to
present Irish folk dranmi] of the
■ ‘ Kiders to the Sea ’ ’ type. ‘ ‘ East
of Eden” is a picture of Cain (the
Genesis Cain) and his family, and
concerns a certain visit from Adam
and Eve—now middle aged; “Adam
(Continued On Page Two)
A LETTER TO
CHRISTOPHER MORLEY
Someone suggested that I write a
letter to you in imitation of the one
you wrote to Charles Lambe — the
birthday letter, you remember. Even
if I were an experienced writer who
know you as you know Lamb, I
would not have the audacity to at-
temjJt it.
I do want to write you a letter,
though. Not becau.'te you aro one of
America’s foremost humorists, “writ
ers of essays, stories, and occasional
verso;” thoso words may thrill a col-
lego sophomore, but they also terrify
her. It is because you love every
day things like “Songs for a Little
House;” because you save old Christ
mas cards; because “palaver” is a
word pal of yours, and you can say,
“Wliat tlie deucof”; because you
say what you please to whom you
please; because a “hurdy-gurdy on
45th Street, a barrow of pussy wil
lows on 44th Street, and a regiment
of caps stationed in 43rd Street —
“spell spring for you; because you
think that “Trivia” begets rare de
light; because you lovo “bread and
choese time,” too; becauso you like
thought and a pipe before an open,
log fire; it is becauso of these things
and more, that I want to write to
you.
When I first outgrew tho Bobbsey
Books and began to investigate that
unknown and frightening word called
“literature,” I gradually turned to
essays, and there you were to mako
the entrance inviting. How many
cases of Sunday afternoon lethargy
you have cured for me! Tho truth
of “On Unanswering Letters” or
the inspiration of “On Filling An
Inkwell” sends blues scuttling.
I have folowed your instructions
to save “Alince Pie” for bed time
reading because 1 find it always an
elegant night-caj) with just tho
right flavor.
Do you know that you cause a mad
scramble in the library at Salem
every time an issue of the “Satur
day IJeview of Literature,” comes
out? Wo aro all anxious to know
whether you will be concerned, this
week, with the bulk of tho Queen
Mary, or w’ith getting the Forgotten
Man around the corner.
You said once that the highest
tribute ine ever |)ay.'i to any book
(Continued On Pago Two)