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Fantasia, v. 1, issue 1, January 1941
Page 16
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16 FANTASIA Witch Wine ON THE WORLD by Lou Goldstone I think it may be ventured, without dogmatism, that one of the less happy conditions of fantasy-fandom in general arises from all too widespread unacquaintance with the works of prose, poetry and drama contributed to the annals of the imagination by those rare men of burning genius. All of us must have read the literary products originating in some of those inspired minds. Perhaps the most familiar example to science-fiction and fantasy fans would be H.P. Lovecraft; a nomination for literary immortality which will, I believe be unchallenged. To attempt to name a number at random would be futile, since, in the first place, there may be some misunderstanding concerning the term "genius" as I here employ it. Not many of the men of whom I speak ever saw a science-fiction or fantasy magazine much less wrote for one. Not many of these men, of whose works Joe Fan is so lamentably ignorant, are alive today. Most of them wrote fantasy only incidentally, but that which they did write possessed a charm and vitality that is enduring. Some few, on the other hand, lived and dreamed in the world of the imagination, justifying their existence as few men can, by leaving, in black and white, treasures whose worth may not be assayed by any scale or gauge or standard of material measurement, but only subjectively in the minds and senses of the inheritors of their beauty. Of these literary giants, none was more tragic, more profound, more generously endowed with the fire of true genius than George Sterling. At the same time, it is doubtful if any received less recognition and acclaim than Sterling was accorded. Only recently has Sterling's existence been publicized to the fan-world at large, and but by indirection and on a comparatively niggardly scale at that. I refer to the series of illustrations by Virgil Finlay, which pictured random verses from "A Wine of Wizardry" not so long ago in Weird Tales. Finlay, of course, did masterful jobs on these, and succeeded in capturing, with his high artistic ability, about as much of Sterling's fabulous imaginative quality as anyone may capture on a drawing board. Too, there can be no doubt that his drawings, with the accompanying verses, were instrumental in catapulting a certain number of fans off the library poetry shelves. But in spite of one such boast in the popular print, I am sure that upwards of 90% of those who may rightfully be considered full-fledged fantasy fans would reply when asked if they had read any of Sterling's works: "Who?", or "Sterling?...Sterling?". This is a most lamentable situation, because Sterling was a true genius of the highest order, who lived and breathed in -- and wrote of -- a realm of unceasing and kaleidoscopic wonder. I won't publicly hazard an opinion as to which of his manifold creations is the "best". Nothing that he wrote was poor. The great majority was supremely beautiful. Ambrose Bierce, who probably influenced Sterling more than any other man, referred to "A Wine of Wizardry" as one of the greatest poems ever produced in America, and worthy to be placed beside the best work of Coleridge, Keats and Poe. One factor of importance in the obscurity of Sterling's writings was his inability to find a market for publication in any of the nationally circulated periodicals. Most, if not all, of his literature was privately published in San Francisco, where Sterling died, and in whose environs -- in whose very suburbs -- he spent the greater portion of his life. He was born at Sag Harbor in Long Island, N.Y., in 1869, but most west to
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16 FANTASIA Witch Wine ON THE WORLD by Lou Goldstone I think it may be ventured, without dogmatism, that one of the less happy conditions of fantasy-fandom in general arises from all too widespread unacquaintance with the works of prose, poetry and drama contributed to the annals of the imagination by those rare men of burning genius. All of us must have read the literary products originating in some of those inspired minds. Perhaps the most familiar example to science-fiction and fantasy fans would be H.P. Lovecraft; a nomination for literary immortality which will, I believe be unchallenged. To attempt to name a number at random would be futile, since, in the first place, there may be some misunderstanding concerning the term "genius" as I here employ it. Not many of the men of whom I speak ever saw a science-fiction or fantasy magazine much less wrote for one. Not many of these men, of whose works Joe Fan is so lamentably ignorant, are alive today. Most of them wrote fantasy only incidentally, but that which they did write possessed a charm and vitality that is enduring. Some few, on the other hand, lived and dreamed in the world of the imagination, justifying their existence as few men can, by leaving, in black and white, treasures whose worth may not be assayed by any scale or gauge or standard of material measurement, but only subjectively in the minds and senses of the inheritors of their beauty. Of these literary giants, none was more tragic, more profound, more generously endowed with the fire of true genius than George Sterling. At the same time, it is doubtful if any received less recognition and acclaim than Sterling was accorded. Only recently has Sterling's existence been publicized to the fan-world at large, and but by indirection and on a comparatively niggardly scale at that. I refer to the series of illustrations by Virgil Finlay, which pictured random verses from "A Wine of Wizardry" not so long ago in Weird Tales. Finlay, of course, did masterful jobs on these, and succeeded in capturing, with his high artistic ability, about as much of Sterling's fabulous imaginative quality as anyone may capture on a drawing board. Too, there can be no doubt that his drawings, with the accompanying verses, were instrumental in catapulting a certain number of fans off the library poetry shelves. But in spite of one such boast in the popular print, I am sure that upwards of 90% of those who may rightfully be considered full-fledged fantasy fans would reply when asked if they had read any of Sterling's works: "Who?", or "Sterling?...Sterling?". This is a most lamentable situation, because Sterling was a true genius of the highest order, who lived and breathed in -- and wrote of -- a realm of unceasing and kaleidoscopic wonder. I won't publicly hazard an opinion as to which of his manifold creations is the "best". Nothing that he wrote was poor. The great majority was supremely beautiful. Ambrose Bierce, who probably influenced Sterling more than any other man, referred to "A Wine of Wizardry" as one of the greatest poems ever produced in America, and worthy to be placed beside the best work of Coleridge, Keats and Poe. One factor of importance in the obscurity of Sterling's writings was his inability to find a market for publication in any of the nationally circulated periodicals. Most, if not all, of his literature was privately published in San Francisco, where Sterling died, and in whose environs -- in whose very suburbs -- he spent the greater portion of his life. He was born at Sag Harbor in Long Island, N.Y., in 1869, but most west to
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