Southern Lights and Shadows
Introduction The most noticeable characteristic of the extraordinary literary development of the South since the Civil War is that it is almost entirely in the direction of realism. A people who, up to that time, had been so romantic that they wished to naturalize among themselves the ideals and usages of the Walter Scott ages of chivalry, suddenly dropped all that, and in their search for literary material could apparently find nothing so good as the facts of their native life. The more "commonplace" these facts the better they seemed to like them. Evidently they believed that there was a poetry under the rude outside of their mountaineers, their slattern country wives, their shy rustic men and maids, their grotesque humorists, their wild religionists, even their black freedmen, which was worth more than the poetastery of the romantic fiction of their fathers. In this strong faith, which need not have been a conscious creed, the writers of the New South have given the world sketches and studies and portraits of the persons and conditions of their peculiar civilization which the Russians themselves have not excelled in honesty, and hardly in simplicity. To be sure, this development was on the lines of those early humorists who antedated the romantic fictionists, and who were often in their humor so rank, so wild, so savage, so cruel, but the modern realism has refined both upon their
to the wrong room. She said 'no,' that Mrs. Weatherbee had sent the maid
to the door with her to show her the way."
"Why, Judy, I don't see how----" began Jane, then suddenly broke off
with, "Go on and tell me the rest."
"I didn't like this girl for a cent. Her name is Noble, but it doesn't
fit her. She has one of those prying, detestable faces, thin, with a
sharp chin, and she hates to look one straight in the face," continued
Judith disgustedly. "I went over to see Adrienne and Ethel and told
them. Then we all went downstairs to interview Mrs. Weatherbee. She said
you weren't coming back to Madison Hall this year."
"Not coming back to Madison Hall!" exclaimed Jane, her scowl now in
fierce evidence. "Did _she_ say it in just those words?"
"She certainly did," responded Judith. "I told her that I was sure that
you were and she simply froze up and gave me one of those Arctic-circle
stares. All she said was, 'I am surprised at you, Miss Stearns. I am not
in the habit of making incorrect statements.' Adrienne started to ask
her when you had given up your room and she cut her off with: 'Young
ladies, the subject is closed.' So that's all we know about it, and I
guess you don't know any more of it than we do."
"So _that_ was why you didn't want me to go on to the Hall until I
knew," Jane said slowly. "Well, I know now, and I'm going straight
Introduction The most noticeable characteristic of the extraordinary literary development of the South since the Civil War is that it is almost entirely in the direction of realism. A people who, up to that time, had been so romantic that they wished to naturalize among themselves the ideals and usages of the Walter Scott ages of chivalry, suddenly dropped all that, and in their search for literary material could apparently find nothing so good as the facts of their native life. The more "commonplace" these facts the better they seemed to like them. Evidently they believed that there was a poetry under the rude outside of their mountaineers, their slattern country wives, their shy rustic men and maids, their grotesque humorists, their wild religionists, even their black freedmen, which was worth more than the poetastery of the romantic fiction of their fathers. In this strong faith, which need not have been a conscious creed, the writers of the New South have given the world sketches and studies and portraits of the persons and conditions of their peculiar civilization which the Russians themselves have not excelled in honesty, and hardly in simplicity. To be sure, this development was on the lines of those early humorists who antedated the romantic fictionists, and who were often in their humor so rank, so wild, so savage, so cruel, but the modern realism has refined both upon their