I spoke of this.
"'True burlesque is, after all, the highest criticism, don't you
think?' he asked me. 'Doesn't it make demands which only a
sophisticated audience can meet-isn't it rather high-brow
criticism?' And I saw that he had thought deeply about his art.
"'It is because of this,' he went on, 'that we must resort to so
much of the merely slap-stick stuff in our comedies. For after all,
our picture audience, twenty million people a day--surely one can
make no great demands upon their intelligence.' He considered a
moment, seemingly lost in memories of his work. 'I dare say,' he
concluded, 'there are not twenty million people of taste and real
intelligence in the whole world.'
"Yet it must not be thought that this young man would play the
cynic. He is superbly the optimist, though now again he struck a
note of almost cynic whimsicality. 'Of course our art is in its
infancy--' He waited for my nod of agreement, then dryly added, 'We
must, I think, consider it the Peter Pan of the arts. And I dare say
you recall the outstanding biological freakishness of Peter.' But a
smile--that slow, almost puzzled smile of his--accompanied the
words.
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