Page:The Dial (Volume 73).djvu/267



R CLIVE BELL is so deliberately personal in his writings that any attempt at reviewing his work impartially and impersonally must be an affectation. We will therefore drop that prerogative of critics and kings, the majestic plural, and I will start by proclaiming in the singular that I find Mr Bell's writing enormously stimulating, and that I consider that if you have any pretension to an interest in painting, you must read his latest book. You may hate it. You are certain to disagree with some of it. But you can neither neglect it, nor be bored by it.

It is a collection of papers dealing with visual art in France and England since the superlative genius of Cézanne set in action the modern movement. In it Mr Bell confirms and partially modifies the conclusions of his former book (entitled with a gesture very typical of him, Art, tout court). This I assume has been read by every English-speaking amateur.

In art-criticism theory and practice are apt to be far removed, so that there are three separate aspects of this book: the manner of writing which Mr Bell adopts, the taste he shows in discriminating between particular painters, and the theorizing in which he rather splutteringly indulges.

I (still in the singular) enjoy his manner, a sort of masterful but bonhomous button-holing. Like a schoolmaster, he whips his doctrine into you, and gives his orders in the guise of reasoning. But, unlike most schoolmasters, he is never hypocritical or dull, and can combine enthusiasm with a sense of humour. He proffers the most controversial statmentsstatements [sic] as "notorious facts," and, in his attempt to dun into you a few simple ideas, he pretends to credit you with greater knowledge than Macaulay's school-boy ever had. In fact he advocates his aesthetic contentions with wiles that have before