Publisher's Synopsis
In "Bedouins" one may find other essays, less thorough than those given up to Miss Garden, but hardly less interesting. An essay about "Melisande and Debussy." Another on "The Artistic Temperament" (as to which the author is, beyond doubt, an authority). Another (rather flippant and unworthy of the tribute of a reprint) is entitled "Caruso on Wheels." In most, the author hovers around music-an art of which he knows more (and writes less) than almost any other critic in this country. As usual, when he does discourse on music and on artists who make music, he often treats of them in terms of literature. And, as an offset, when he speaks of painting or drama he expresses his ideas in musical formulas. He has, throughout his life, been a voracious reader of fiction, drama, science, and philosophy. His memory is remarkably retentive. But he does wrong, I think, to crowd so many references into his essays. George Moore and Huysmans, Chopin, Poe and the Sar Peladan are hurled at one at every opportunity. It matters little what the theme may be. The author's favorites must be quoted and re-quoted.
Now this, though it impresses one at first, in the long run becomes annoying to the general. It may be true, as he himself once said to me, that he "writes for twelve persons only," not for the crowd. We may assume, despite all such assertions, that Mr. Huneker appeals to a large audience. If not, why does he contribute to the dailies? And why does he reprint what they have published? Before they were essays, most of his writings had been articles. And now, collected, they form parts of a real book. Not everything in "Bedouins" bears re-reading. Some short stories, for example, might with advantage have been left out of this volume. Among them (to name two) are the three slightly futile tales entitled "Brothers-in-Law," "Grindstones," and "Venus or Valkyr." Moreover, those who most admire the author may deplore the resuscitation of two powerful but disturbing little stories which deal with Satanism. The short stories referred to will distress most recent souls, though they will fascinate some searchers after the occult. They are morbid, and, to many, will seem dangerous, though one is founded, I am told, on actual fact. We know that there were Satanists in Paris, in the Quartier Montparnasse. We had heard that there were Satanists in one, at least, of our American cities. To go hunting after cases of the kind may please Mr. Huneker. To relate what he has found, with the allurements of his warm and vivid style, seems almost criminal.
That a man like Huysmans should have praised "The Vision Malefic" of Mr. Huneker long years ago will amaze no one. It will fret most, however, to be told that Tolstoy, the austere and ecstatic Tolstoy, paid it the tribute of a dignified rebuke. In times like ours, when thousands upon thousands in a distracted world are dabbling with perilous mysticisms, an author should think hard and then think harder before he ventures to reprint such disturbing stories as "The Vision Malefic," and that other excursion into the diabolic, "The Supreme Sin."
-Weekly Review, Volume 2
