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    If Winter Don't: A.B.C.D.E.F. Notsomuchinson
    If Winter Don't: A.B.C.D.E.F. Notsomuchinson
    If Winter Don't: A.B.C.D.E.F. Notsomuchinson
    Ebook105 pages1 hour

    If Winter Don't: A.B.C.D.E.F. Notsomuchinson

    By Barry Pain

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    About this ebook

    If Winter Don't by Barry Pain is about Luke Sharpe's whimsical life with his wife in the Jawbones house in Halfpenny Hole, Surrey. Excerpt: "If Winter Comes" placed its author not only as a Bestseller, but as one of the Great Novelists of today. Not always are those royalties crowned by those laurels. Tarzan (of, if I remember rightly, the Apes) never won the double event. And I am told by superior people that, intellectually, Miss Ethel M. Dell takes the hindmost. Personally, I found "If Winter Comes" a most sympathetic and interesting book. I think there are only two points on which I should be disposed to quarrel with it. Firstly, though Nona is a real creation, Effie is an incredible piece of novelist's machinery."
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGood Press
    Release dateDec 9, 2019
    ISBN4064066239749
    If Winter Don't: A.B.C.D.E.F. Notsomuchinson

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      Book preview

      If Winter Don't - Barry Pain

      Barry Pain

      If Winter Don't

      A.B.C.D.E.F. Notsomuchinson

      Published by Good Press, 2022

      [email protected]

      EAN 4064066239749

      Table of Contents

      I

      II

      III

      IV

      IF WINTER DON’T

      CHAPTER I

      CHAPTER II

      CHAPTER III

      1

      2

      3

      4

      CHAPTER IV

      CHAPTER V

      CHAPTER VI

      1

      2

      3

      CHAPTER VII

      CHAPTER VIII

      CHAPTER IX

      1

      2

      3

      4

      5

      CHAPTER X

      CHAPTER XI

      1

      2

      3

      4

      5

      6

      7,"

      8."

      9."

      10

      EPILOGUE

      THE END

      PREFATORY NOTE

      Table of Contents

      I

      Table of Contents

      If Winter Comes placed its author not only as a Best Seller, but as one of the Great Novelists of to-day. Not always are those royalties crowned by those laurels. Tarzan (of, if I remember rightly, the Apes) never won the double event. And I am told by superior people that, intellectually, Miss Ethel M. Dell takes the hindmost. Personally, I found If Winter Comes a most sympathetic and interesting book. I think there are only two points on which I should be disposed to quarrel with it. Firstly, though Nona is a real creation, Effie is an incredible piece of novelist’s machinery. Secondly, I detest the utilization of the Great War at the present day for the purposes of fiction. It is altogether too easy. It buys the emotional situation ready-made. It asks the reader’s memory to supplement the writer’s imagination. And this is not my sole objection to its use.

      II

      Table of Contents

      I wonder if I might, without being thought blasphemous, say a word or two about the Great Novelists of to-day. They have certain points of resemblance. I do not think that over-states it.

      They have the same little ways. They divide their chapters into sections, and number the sections in plain figures. This is quite pontifical, and lends your story the majesty of an Act of Parliament. The first man who did it was a genius. And the other seven hundred and eighteen showed judgment. I propose to use it myself when I remember it.

      Then there is the three-dot trick. At one time those dots indicated an omission. To-day, some of our best use them as an equivalent of the cinema fade-out. Those dots prolong the effect of a word or sentence; they lend it an afterglow. You see what I mean? Afterglow ...

      One must mention, too, the staccato style—the style that makes the printer send the boy out for another hundred gross of full-stops. All the Great Novelists of to-day use it, more or less.

      III

      Table of Contents

      Let us see what can be done with it. Here, for instance, is a sentence which was taught me in the nursery, for its alleged tongue-twisting quality: She stood at the door of Burgess’s fish-sauce shop, Strand, welcoming him in. In that form it is not impressive, but now note what one of these staccato merchants might make of it.

      "Across the roaring Strand red and green lights spelling on the gloom. ‘BURGESS’S FISH-SAU.’ A moment’s darkness and again ‘BURGESS’S FISH-SAU.’ Like that. Truncated. The final —CE not functioning. He had to look though it hurt him. Hurt horrible. Damnably. And his eyes traveled downward.

      "Suddenly and beyond hope she! Isobel-at-the-last. Standing in the doorway. White on black. Slim. Willowy. Incomparable. Incommensurable. She saw him and her lips rounded to a call. He sensed it through the traffic. Come in. Calling and calling. Come in.

      "Come in....

      Out of the rain.

      It is like a plaintive hymn sung to a banjo accompaniment.

      Incidentally it illustrates another favorite trick of these gentlemen—the introduction of a commonplace or even jarring detail into a romantic scene in order to increase its appearance of reality. It is quite a good trick.

      IV

      Table of Contents

      And sometimes, not every day but sometimes, one gets a little weary even of the best tricks. Need the author depend quite so much on the printer for his effects? Scenes and passages in a book seem to be standing very near the edge, and the wanton thought occurs to one that a little shove would send them over. In fact, one gets irritable. And then anything bad may happen. This parody for instance.

      IF WINTER DON’T

      CHAPTER I

      Table of Contents

      Luke Sharper. Age, thirty-four. Married, but not much. Private residence, Jawbones, Halfpenny Hole, Surrey. Favorite recreation, suffering. Favorite flower——

      Oh, drop it! Let us rather listen to Mr. Alfred Jingle, solicitor, talking to his artist friend.

      "Met Sharper yesterday. Remember him at the old school? Flap Sharper we called him. Not that they really did flap. His ears, I mean. They just crept up and bent over when he was thinking hard. People came to see it. Came from miles around.

      "Rum chap. Rum ways. Never agreed with anybody present, including himself. Always inventing circumstantial evidence to convict himself of crimes he had never committed. Remember the window? Half-brick came flying through it. Old Borkins looked out. Below stood Flap Sharper with the other half-brick in his hand. Arm drawn back. No other boy in sight. The two halves fitted exactly. It certainly looked like it. Poor old Flap found that it felt like it, too. But he had never chucked that half-brick. Ogilvie did it. Remember him? The one we called Pink-eye. Have a drink?

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