Judge, 1924-03-22 · page 6 of 36
Judge — March 22, 1924 — page 6: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of "The Conventional Novel and Its Remedy" This satirical piece critiques formulaic fiction of the era. The article mocks stock literary characters—the conventionally handsome hero, the virtuous heroine in white—arguing they lack authenticity and vitality. The accompanying illustrations contrast idealized romance with reality. One sketch shows a woman in "traveling nightgown" (unflattering garb), not the glamorous figure promised by novels. Another depicts a crude, working-class man named Giltedge—"not tall and finely built" but rather crude and inarticulate—challenging romantic stereotypes. The satire suggests that real people and relationships are messier, less genteel, and more interesting than conventional fiction portrays. The piece advocates for more honest, unglamorous characterization in literature—a modernist impulse questioning Victorian literary conventions.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
CCASIONALLY, there arises the com- plaint that modern short stories are too conventional, that heroes are altogether heroic, heroines thoroughly virtuous and _ villains dyed-in-the-wool bad = men; and that these mechanical figures merely called upon at the proper time to perform their stereotyped acts and fulfill all requirements. Let us treat a story unconventionally, that realistically. Suppose that Mr. Reggie Giltedge, young man of good family and breed- ing, calling upon Miss Myrtle Whytte-Burlingame of THE Whytte- Burlingames at her home. ure He was not tall and finely built, nor was his skin as clear as porce- Jain. A MEAN TIME (Not “One Glorious Night”) “Are you dere, kid?” young Gilt- edge boisterously shouted up the stair- i way. He did not give his card to the butler. HE V NOT TALL AND FINELY BUIL VAS HIS s AS CLEAR He had a mottled complexi ] he worked in a glue factory his color was dull and pasty. CHISELED) was out of proportion | with the rest of his ugly features, and | his eyes, green and unattractive (NOT CLEAR BLUE AND SPARKLING WITH VITALITY) were enough to chill one’s blood. He was dressed in rough clothing, no matter what, but the importance lies ' 4 the fact that HE UTTERLY LACKED IM- | MACULATE EVENING ATTIRE, | “Sure Mike, I'm here. What's on your Hi noodle?” came the reply in cultured tones t from Myrtle. Her voice was not bird-like at all but sounded as if she had been fy drinking heavily. (Note she did not in- struct her man Collins to inform the caller she would be down presently.) “Howdy, ole kid,” was Giltedge’s cheerful greeting. (Not, “Ah, good evening, Miss Whytte-Burlingame, I trust you are we! The young chap, impetuous as he was, had a hard time restraining himself from giving the girl a resounding thwack on the back but recollected in time she was a member of the eclat—the élite, whoneverslap backs. She said: THE vei NOVEL AND ITS REMEDY traveling nightmare. YRTLE was wearing a faded, last year’s made-over dress (ABSOLUTELY NOT A MODISH GOWN) and tat- tered bedroom slippers—not dainty gilded shoes. Let it be thoroughly understood (SHE V NOT A VISION IN WHITE. She was a traveling nightmare). Her hair wa still done up in splints. It was not a FLUFFY, GOLDE: MASS, but looked as if it needed another shot of perox How’s the old lady?” “Jake, jake,” returned the girl, in a hoarse voic your carcass down on the bench and. spiel the guf “What say, we shakes us a few steps down to the dance hall?” (Not, “Would you care to go to the Argyle-Montmorceney Ball? proposed Giltedge, parting the tails of his (rented) frock coat and seating him- self on the out-of-date 7 of furni- ture which knew the way to the hock- shop so well it’ could) walk there unaided. He waited her answer, rub- bing his stubby (not smooth-shaven) chin. 4 pursued Giltedge generously He was too lazy to shave “Hot material,” returned the girl, still using the same dignific “Wait till [ round up my sky She grinned (NOT SI WITCHINGLY) at him steady (NOT QUIV. did not PALPITATE as she clumped (NOT TRIPPED) up the stairs. As she had not lost hercomposure, there was no need for her to regain it. Young Giltedge could not help noticing how awkward and thick her ankles were. he oy with RING) lips and sess well-rounded shoulders and stal- NO, THEY WERE NOT ace wart, shapely arms that told of a life TRIM. The folds of the ‘ : ‘od’s country, the great out- made over dress DID NOT of-doors, but he was weak-chested and a but hung } walked as if there were a crick in his She’ was not a'vision », NOT RE- leg. His twisted nose (NOT FINELY in white. She was a NING She like the tread of the ip. popotamus. (Continued on page 31) “Well, yuh can’t put nuthin’ over on me, you big bum!” comicbooks.com