Mrs. Atherton

She Works on a "Life of Burr"

Mrs. Gertrude Atherton has returned to Manhattan from San Francisco and is again becoming immersed in the lit-erary-social life of the metropolis. She is a very handsome woman, more striking than ever in a dark suit, a small dark hat, her pale yellow hair done close to her head, talking in staccato and determined tones--a remarkable woman in more ways than one!

She is thoroughly American and determined in her admiration of things Nordic. A great-grandniece of Benjamin Franklin, she is not far from the stream of American literary tradition. Her sense of plot is extraordinary. This journalistic ability is especially evident in Black Oxen, although I'm not sure that I consider that indubitably readable book exactly in Ben Franklin's line.

Her grasp of historical incident and atmospheric detail has characterized much of her work and The Conqueror, published in 1902, remains her best and most sustained novel, although she has produced excellent novels since then. Her interest in history still persists and, unless it has been totally disrupted by the great success of her recent work, she is working on a Life of Aaron Burr, whose character, she believes, we have all much misunderstood.

Gertrude Atherton was born in San Francisco. She is a widow. She has lived much of her life in Europe. She is completely of this century, of the minute, progressive, popular. She is a perfect example of the fact that no one in this world of writing who keeps his or her wits about, needs to be de-moded with the passage of time and the development of new fads and fancies. At present writing, and as I consider Mrs. Atherton, I have little patience with those exceedingly self-conscious members of the older generation who are, to quote George Kaufman and Marc Connelly, "rocker bound"; who insist on their creaking mentality and absurd clinging to standards which they really never possessed. I'll admit that I do not care for the flapper grandmother; but the dignified preservation of a youthful viewpoint cannot be questioned. The wisdom of age combined with the enthusiasm of youth and a tolerance which is characteristic of no time of life but is, perhaps, a God-sent gift somewhat akin to second sight, is a state of bliss for anyone to contemplate.

J. F