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176 tainly, has never been a French science (but it is a science all the same). No doubt this is due to the existence of a well-informed public opinion, at least in literature, and to the abuses we practise with words. In the face of literary réclame our critics feel injured, as do our readers, too, who with each book they buy, purchase also the precious right to exercise their private criticism—which the French, a jealous people, prefer to all other sports. Symposia are being held on the question "whether it is legitimate to exploit works of the mind exactly like commercial products"—which will cause a smile in the United States. There is room for pleasure in seeing how the taste for letters has spread in France in three years. Everywhere publishers are opening book shops, and newspapers devoted exclusively to literature (like Les Nouvelles Littéraires) are established; new literary salons are opening every day (we must return to that interesting topic another time) manuals of the history of literature and anthologies come from every press; Hachette has a Histoire de la Littérature, and Larousse another; Crès publishes a manual by Lalou; there is the Vingt-cinq Ans de Littérature, by Montfort, published by Saint Andréa. Gus Bofa, in a pamphlet sold out the moment it appeared, has synthesized in satiric phrases the impressions left on him by the authors he has read. Finally the number of literary prizes has reached unheard of heights. They grow in number and in importance. The season 1922-23 will have seen ten great prizes and some forty minor ones awarded. Tired of being judged by literary men, the painters have decided to judge them in turn and to give a prize. This morning, lunching with some friends, we thought of founding a prize by novelists for the best critic, not to mention another prize to be given by all those who have received prizes in the preceding twelvemonth—all leading to the happy day when there will be more prizes than books.

In the end the rage will pass and the only prizes left will be those awarded by juries which have not deceived their publics. We hope that the New World Prize (Prix du Nouveau Monde) established by Mrs Keep of New York, and intended to reveal a young writer of the French language to the United States, will be one of those which will remain. Larbaud, Giraudoux, Cocteau, Max Jacob, Lacretelle, Bernard Faÿ, and myself will award it some time this month. Giraudoux recently said that "the one who wins a prize captures the interest of people; but sympathy goes to those who don't." We hope for one and the other for our candidate.