"In this chapter, the Sixth," Desire was saying, "you seem to lose
some of the serious purpose which is a prominent note in the opening
chapters. You begin to treat things casually. You almost allow
yourself to be humorous. Now is this supposed to be a humorous book,
or is it not?"
"Oh--not. Distinctly not."
"Well then, don't you see? If you had treated the thing in that
semi-humorous manner all through and continued in that vein you
would produce a certain definite type of book. The critics would
probably say--"
"I know, spare me!" "They would say," sternly, "that 'Professor
Spence has a light touch.' That 'he has treated his subject in a
popular manner.'" (The professor groaned.) "But that isn't a patch
upon what they will say if you mix up your styles as you are doing
at present."
"But--well, what do you advise?"
Desire sucked her pencil. (He had given up trying to cure her of
this poisonous habit.)
"I've thought about that. If you were not so--so temperamental, I
would say go back and begin again. But that is risky. It will be
better to go on, I think, trying to recapture the more serious
style, until the whole book it at least in some form. Then you will
know exactly where you are and what is necessary to harmonize the
whole. You can then rewrite the 'off' chapters, bringing them into
line. This is a recognized literary method, I believe."
"Is it? Good heavens!"
"I read it in a book."
"Then it must be literary.
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