Eeldrop and Appleplex | Page 4

was accepted in several circles known to us. And
now, as I still insist, she has disappeared from society altogether."
"The memory of Scheherazade," said Appleplex, "is to me that of
Bird's custard and prunes in a Bloomsbury boarding house. It is not my
intention to represent Edith as merely disreputable. Neither is she a
tragic figure. I want to know why she misses. I cannot altogether
analyse her 'into a combination of known elements' but I fail to touch
anything definitely unanalysable.
"Is Edith, in spite of her romantic past, pursuing steadily some hidden
purpose of her own? Are her migrations and eccentricities the sign of
some unguessed consistency? I find in her a quantity of shrewd
observation, an excellent fund of criticism, but I cannot connect them
into any peculiar vision. Her sarcasm at the expense of her friends is
delightful, but I doubt whether it is more than an attempt to mould
herself from outside, by the impact of hostilities, to emphasise her
isolation. Everyone says of her, 'How perfectly impenetrable!' I suspect
that within there is only the confusion of a dusty garret."
"I test people," said Eeldrop, "by the way in which I imagine them as
waking up in the morning. I am not drawing upon memory when I
imagine Edith waking to a room strewn with clothes, papers, cosmetics,

letters and a few books, the smell of Violettes de Parme and stale
tobacco. The sunlight beating in through broken blinds, and broken
blinds keeping out the sun until Edith can compel herself to attend to
another day. Yet the vision does not give me much pain. I think of her
as an artist without the slightest artistic power."
"The artistic temperament--" began Appleplex.
"No, not that." Eeldrop snatched away the opportunity. "I mean that
what holds the artist together is the work which he does; separate him
from his work and he either disintegrates or solidifies. There is no
interest in the artist apart from his work. And there are, as you said,
those people who provide material for the artist. Now Edith's poem 'To
Atthis' proves beyond the shadow of a doubt that she is not an artist. On
the other hand I have often thought of her, as I thought this evening, as
presenting possibilities for poetic purposes. But the people who can be
material for art must have in them something unconscious, something
which they do not fully realise or understand. Edith, in spite of what is
called her impenetrable mask, presents herself too well. I cannot use
her; she uses herself too fully. Partly for the same reason I think, she
fails to be an artist: she does not live at all upon instinct. The artist is
part of him a drifter, at the mercy of impressions, and another part of
him allows this to happen for the sake of making use of the unhappy
creature. But in Edith the division is merely the rational, the cold and
detached part of the artist, itself divided. Her material, her experience
that is, is already a mental product, already digested by reason. Hence
Edith (I only at this moment arrive at understanding) is really the most
orderly person in existence, and the most rational. Nothing ever
happens to her; everything that happens is her own doing."
"And hence also," continued Appleplex, catching up the thread, "Edith
is the least detached of all persons, since to be detached is to be
detached from one's self, to stand by and criticise coldly one's own
passions and vicissitudes. But in Edith the critic is coaching the
combatant."
"Edith is not unhappy."

"She is dissatisfied, perhaps."
"But again I say, she is not tragic: she is too rational. And in her career
there is no progression, no decline or degeneration. Her condition is
once and for always. There is and will be no catastrophe.
"But I am tired. I still wonder what Edith and Mrs. Howexden have in
common. This invites the consideration (you may not perceive the
connection) of Sets and Society, a subject which we can pursue
tomorrow night."
Appleplex looked a little embarrassed. "I am dining with Mrs.
Howexden," he said. "But I will reflect upon the topic before I see you
again."

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