Word: readers
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Dates: during 1910-1919
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...here an abundance of matter--a clever character sketch by C. M. Rogers that shows he could write a story if he only had a plot; a reminiscence of boyhood written by the editor-in-chief with vivacity and charm; a story of Gilbert V. Seldes which teases the reader unnecessarily and leaves one uncertain as to whether the author is very subtle or not quite articulate; a capital Alpine sketch by C. H. Weston; an anecdote with a good point by Irving Pichel; a seasonable Christmas story by W. R. Burlingame; and a group of poems...
There is genuine fire in the poem entitled "The Game," by F. B. T. '13. Instruments of precision would doubtless show, in the case of any reader, measurable results on his respiration, circulation, and muscular tension, thus taking the question of the merit of the poetry out of the field of opinion and into the field of fact. The magnitude of the results thus measured, however, would depend in part upon the sensitiveness of the reader, and in part upon his experience in the game...
...whole, the current Advocate is one of which the editors may be proud, and in which the reader may find profit as well as pleasure...
...identity of Bluebeard with Marshall or Retz), these are not matters of importance. Mr. Wright's style has freedom and richness, but it is rather too copious; with the practice of restraint he may make it distinguished, He has no difficulty in arousing and holding the interest of the reader. Regarded simply as an account of the mysterious excesses of occultism and of the nature of its votaries, his essay is decidedly effective. But as an argument, which it apparently sets out to be, its upshot is not quite clear. It was hardly necessary to prove that "Satanism" still survives...
...only piece of fiction by Clarence Britten is not vital or significant enough to balance all the excellent criticism. Delicate, studied, as his stories always are, this one is a good example of the lack the average reader feels in them. One never feels he understands the people; one does not feel sure they understand each other. The author has so refined them that they are no longer the plain human sort one knows. Besides, they so seldom do anything worth while. They talk, not always brilliantly, and fade away somehow in whispers and twilight. They make one long...