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Phantagraph, v. 10, issue 3, December 1942
Page 2
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2 Nonetheless I have a very curious instance to report. I do not myself make too much of this, the circumstances may have been a bit too odd, or there may be factors I know nothing of. In any case let me say that I have two books in my collection which might represent respectively the most complete achievement of the masculinity or femininity of a book, if such terms can really apply. "Marguerite" by Elizabeth Marian Marymount is the latter. It is, as you probably know, a very quiet, brilliantly written story of a woman, a story described by critics as one of the most intimately understanding ever written. What male characters enter the story are very few and very much in the background. I believe it received the "Prix Femina" for its year, which was 1936. Bound in a soft pinkish cloth, its pages delicately hued and I almost suspect scented, my copy of this was a very superior example. The other books was "Mansweep" by Calton Heming, still accounted the most virile yarn of this extra-virile writer. Heming had written it in 1935 just after returning from a violent trip to the Northwest and for sheer vigorous, slangy, tough writing, it is unbeatable. My copy is the Limited Editions one, bound in a hairy leather. I do not account for the circumstances that placed these two books side by side on my shelves. I suppose in years of shifting a collection, even book will sooner or later stand by every other book. However that may be, circumstances placed "Mansweep" and "Marguerite" side by side on a lower shelf for the better part of a year.
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2 Nonetheless I have a very curious instance to report. I do not myself make too much of this, the circumstances may have been a bit too odd, or there may be factors I know nothing of. In any case let me say that I have two books in my collection which might represent respectively the most complete achievement of the masculinity or femininity of a book, if such terms can really apply. "Marguerite" by Elizabeth Marian Marymount is the latter. It is, as you probably know, a very quiet, brilliantly written story of a woman, a story described by critics as one of the most intimately understanding ever written. What male characters enter the story are very few and very much in the background. I believe it received the "Prix Femina" for its year, which was 1936. Bound in a soft pinkish cloth, its pages delicately hued and I almost suspect scented, my copy of this was a very superior example. The other books was "Mansweep" by Calton Heming, still accounted the most virile yarn of this extra-virile writer. Heming had written it in 1935 just after returning from a violent trip to the Northwest and for sheer vigorous, slangy, tough writing, it is unbeatable. My copy is the Limited Editions one, bound in a hairy leather. I do not account for the circumstances that placed these two books side by side on my shelves. I suppose in years of shifting a collection, even book will sooner or later stand by every other book. However that may be, circumstances placed "Mansweep" and "Marguerite" side by side on a lower shelf for the better part of a year.
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