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About Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012 | View Entire Issue (April 29, 1939)
WORKS OF SCRIABIN E TOLD Jane Thacher Tells Of Ambitions of Russian Composer And His 'Mystery' An illuminating glimpse behind the veils and mysteries which hover around the name of the Rus sian composer, Alexander Scria bine, was given Thursday after noon by Jane Thacher, professor of piano, when discussing the compo sitions she will play in her spring concert next Tuesday evening in the music auditorium. “Scriabine is one of the two or three great innovators or experi menters of our time,” the pianist said, “and had his career not been cut short by a lamentable, early death, he would have, without j doubt, produced works of immortal I beauty.” produced works of immortal beau ty.” The composer’s music is not well known yet, to the average concert goer, Mrs. Thacher said. It is ex traordinarily difficult to play, and difficult to interpret. With Debus sy alone he appears to be the most refined and exquisite; and to un derstand and enjoy it, one must be able to feel its subtlety and under stand something of his insane phil osophy, the pianist revealed. Insane Genius “That insanity, however, fed his genius until he arrived at the con viction of his Messianic mission," she went on. “His thinking was controlled by a very shifting and impermanent philosophy, which was partly his imagining of his own Deification, by which he felt destined to save humanity through the erotic fusion of a material cre ation with a spiritual.” It became very involved, fanat ical incomprehensible — but ex plains his peculiar musical lan guage, Mrs. Thacher declared. Some think that his philosophical reasoning is frail to support the enormous responsibility of music, and that it was doomed from the beginning. Some think that after sufficient time has passed, and with the return of the cycle which produced his genius, he will be un derstood and made immortal in I SEE eARKER AND SEE HIS FINE VIOLINS They are . above average in tonal quali ties. Some are extra good, old ana meiiow toned. The better ones are priced at $50.00, $75.00, $100.00, $150.00, and $300. These are left with me for sale. Also cheaper instruments from $5.00 to $35.00 — Strings and other fixtures for violins. I a!so do violin repairing. M. S. BARKER 760 Willamette Street The Emerald Reader’s Page Editor: GLENN HASSELROOTH Contributors: Miriam Hale Jean Adams Carl Newcomb Jack Giesy Betty Jane Thompson Tressler Now Dissects The American Irving Tressler, author of the Scribner Quiz and that travesty of ‘‘How to Win Friends and In fluence People,” has written an other work to poke fun at a best selling book. Published Thursday was Irv ing Tressler's “With Malice Toward All.” In it the author, with his humor functioning on all eight cylinders, takes a leis urely trip through the South and East, and observes the oddities, vagaries, and customs of that hardy creature, the American. The laughter in it will probably last as long as that over “How to Lose Friends and Alienate Peo ple,” which is still echoing. Needless to say, the book it makes fun of is Margaret Hal sey’s “With Malice Toward Some,” which “rode down” the English. memory. Bach’s music did not come to full light until 150 years after his death. Died Early ‘‘Scriabine died before he had at tempted the completion of his ‘mystery,’ which would have em bodied all his mystic ideas in which the correlation of life and art and religion would be fused, by means of music, speech, gesture, color, scent—and the audience would par-, ticipate, by being projected into a state of mind in which they would have ‘a vision of a higher state of consciousness which he hope to call our own.’ He did not live to spread his great wing on which he hoped to bear humanity upward, and out, over the borders of this fettered earth-life,” Mrs. Thachcr said. And whether or not Scriabine's name ever is included on the scroll of the immortals, Mrs. Thacher will do what she can to make mu sic lovers recognize and appre ciate his work. Scriabine’s ‘‘Album Leaf,” ‘‘Fantastic Poem,” two preludes, a scherzo, an etude, ‘‘Son ata in F Sharp,” and music by oth er composers will be played by Mrs. Thacher in her Tuesday pro gram. The public invited. YW Group Plans The freshman commission of the YWCA is planning to entertain the senior girls of the University, Eu gene, St. Mary's, and Springfield high schools at a tea in the near future. The date has not yet been an nounced, but plans are being made under the direction of Commission Chairman Elna Johnson. gJSMSISJHMSISIMSEISJSJSEEMBJSISlS®1!! I CAR SERVICE I S • Motor Tune Up g! 1 • Valve Service kj S • Brake Service @ a • Battery Recharging ® 1 0 Electrical Service i 1 Clark Battery & | Electric Co. |j 1042 Oak St. Phone 80 j| FRESHESTf Thing in Town • K * s Double Milk Bread 400 14th East Phone 71 [ The Whole Thing Is Very Funny A Short Story by Carl Newcomb ACCORDING to Fred, the barkeep. the whole thing is very funny. A big, sly grin comes over his face as he puts a glass of beer in front of me and starts to tell me about it. It is about Joe. I guess I'd better tell you that Joe is not a very lucky guy. He has very little, Joe has. He had been gassed in the war: so he hasn't any health. His poor health—keep him from working; so he hasn’t any job. He hasn’t any money; so he hasn’t any home, or any wife, or any kids. He does have ulcers; so he don't drink. About all Joe has is an old pipe, i a serious expression on his face, a love for listening to the bar radio, and part of the 30 dollars the gov ernment gives him each month in return for the life he gave Con solidated Munitions during the war. He has a spark in his eye, too. Not a twinkle; a spark. Well, Fred is telling me about Joe at the theater. Like all the rest of us, Joe goes in for this Bank Nite stuff. He signs his name and address in the register book. Then he waits. And every Thurs day night he hopes like hell . . . like all of us hope. Fred interrupts himself to get me another glass of beer. Then, still smiling, he goes on telling me about Joe. It is all very funny. TONIGHT JOE comes into the place for his supper—which is a bowl of soup and a few crackers. He listens to the bar radio until about nine o’clock. Then he goes up to the theater to see which lucky guy is going to win the $450 that is the prize tonight. As Fred talks I can see how Joe looks as he trudges up the main street to the front of the theater. He is smoking his old pipe. That pipe smells like hell, even to me, and I like pipes. He has on his dirty work pants, a grey shirt which is buttoned at the neck with out a tie, his sloppy hat, and his old black coat. He is standing outside the thea ter a little apart from the crowd because he doesn’t want to bother the people with the smell of his pipe. Like all the rest, he is wait ing for the elegantly dressed usher to come outside and call the name of the winner for tonight. I can see the crowd as it quiets down when the usher comes out side. Joe is looking at the usher with that little spark in his eye. Fred’s voice breaks the scene. “Well, the usher calls the name of Joe Bailey. ’Course you know that’s Joe’s last name.” YEAH, that’s Joe’s last name. The scene comes back. Joe is stand ing very still for a moment. Then he puts his pipe in his coat pocket and works his way to where the usher is standing. In his quiet voice he says, “I’m Joe Bailey.” Fred’s voice comes to me again. “So Joe goes all the way into the theater. He walks down the long aisle to the front, and goes up on the stage. All the people stretch their necks to see who the lucky guy is. They are all excited be cause it is the first time anyone has won the money for a long time.” Fred insists on drawing out the story. He wants me to get the full thing. I can see Joe walking down the aisle to the front of the theater. He’s pretty nervous about it. He’s working his lips a little like he always does when someone gets him cornered in an argument. He’s carrying his battered hat in his hand. “Now here’s the funny part of the whole story,” says Fred. He starts to laugh, and he gets to laughing so hard he has to stop talking until he gets over it. “Well well, Joe gets up on the stage and tells ’em who he is. They wants to see some identifi cation, so he shows 'em his VFW card.” Fred starts to laugh again. WHILE HE IS laughing I am thing about how fine it is that Joe won the money, and how happy it will make him. He'll be able to buy a new suit, and, most important of kli, he’ll be able to see a doctor like he is supposed to do if he has money enough. Fred is still laughing as he says 1 to me, “Wait'll I tell you. You'll die.’’ “Well, for fjod's sake tell me and stop giggling,’’ I snaps at him. I am getting tired of all this. "They don't give him the money. Poor ol' Joe don't get the dough,1’ , says Fred. “He don't have the right j middle initial. L>en t that lull you?” and he starts laughing- like a fool again. I gets up from my stool and says, “Yeah, that’s a helluva funny story. You big ham.” I am mad. And the more I think about poor old Joe getting chiseled out of that money and the way Fred thinks it is so funny, X get madder than ever. Helluva fine guy he is to laugh at a poor fella like Joe. Joe can use that dough. The next morning I go back into the place to have a beer. “Y’ou should'a seen Joe last night when he comes in after this busi ness up to the theater,” Fred says to me. “We kids the life out'a him. He don't have a thing to say.” I am about to blow up again when I am interrupted by a couple of cops who walk into the place. ONE OF THEM says to Fred, "Do you know a guy named Joe Bailey?” “Sure,” says Fred. “Sure, I know Joe Bailey. He comes in here all the time to eat.” “Do you know if he has any rel atives anywhere,” asks the cop. “Hell, I dunno,” says Fred. “Why?” “Does he have any relatives in this state?” asks the cop. “I dunno,” says Fred again. “Why?” “We found him dead in his shack by the tracks at 4 o’clock this morning,” answers the flatfoot. Fred’s mouth drops open, and he says, “The hell ya’ did!” “Yeah,” says the copper. “We can’t find anyone v.-ho knows of any relatives. We'll have to turn the body over to the county, I guess. “Well, c’mon, Harry,” lie says to the other copper, and he starts out the door. Fred is leaning over the bar with a far-away look in his eye. He. says, “Jeez, that’s tough. Damn tough.” Then, as he goes back to his work, “Jeez, I wonder why ol’ Joe did it?” I Hate the Flea By JACK GIESY Ah, woe is nie; I hate the flea. I cannot see What joy and glee Attaineth he From biting me. O'Duilearga Homesick, Very Enthusiastic Over Oregon Fishing, He Says By B. J. THOMPSON Having opened his eyes Thurs day morning on an emerald green world, Mr. Seamus O’Duilearga, director of the Irish folklore com mission, admitted that it was the for his Emerald Isle since he left it. “The best trout an<J salmon fish first time he had become homesick ing in Ireland , is in the province of Connaught, the most beautiful part of th ecountry—just as the best fishing is in the most beauti ful part of your country here," he said. He was looking forward with a great deal of enthusiasm to a trip up the McKenzie with Veltie Pruitt and George Godfrey Thurs day. Interested in studying the old gaelic language, Mr. O’Duilearga first started taking down the Irish fairy tales for a linguistic exercise, he said. Then he became interested in the material itself. The idea of collecting all the tales in the dis trict came to him; then he thought “why not all Ireland?” The Rocke feller foundation and finally the government became interested in the project. Now In Danger Asked why he considered it so important to collect the stories that have lasted for so many thous ands of years, he responded that they are now in danger of being lost. Young people do not take so much interested in them as people of the past, he said. As a result of his visit to the United States, Mr. O'Duilearga said he was going to suggest that his government establish a commission to make translated copies of Irish folklore and history available to people who are inetrested. "Every where I go,” said he, “I find that people are interested in Ireland, but the books are not available in English.” “The Douglas Corrigan story It’s 'Mickey Mouse/ Even In Mexico, Robe Finds By JEAN ADAMS In Mexico it’s “El Raton Mig uelto,” but it still mean’s “Mickey Mouse” and a laugh to the readers of Walt Disney’s comic strip. Oth er “comicos” or funnies known to both nations’ newspapers are “Tar zan,” “Sappo,” “Popeyc el Marino,” and “Felix.” The El Universal, printed in Mexico City, is, according to Stan ley Robe, research assistant in Spanish, Mexico’s best newspaper. Its Sunday edition comes com plete with society, rotogravure, and comic sections.. Advertisements for movies are full of names familiar to Ameri can theater-goers. A recent double bill featured at the Rex theater was also shown in Mexico City, although as separate attractions. These pictures were “El Gran Vais” (The Great Waltz i, and “Aristos y Modelos en Montmar tre" (Artists and Models Abroad). In the case of American made films of this sort whose characters speak English, Spanish sub-cap tions are provided, said Mr. Robe. Featured in one edition of El Universal’s theater section was an advertisement for “Un Carnet de Bal," a French film which was shown on the campus last term. According to Mr. Robe, French Your hair in a pleasing Coiffure Modem equip ment and per sonal attention in my resilience strop. GRACE HALL Beauty Shop Phone 3671-W 608 E. 1 3th films are shown a great deal and are popular with the Mexican peo ple. One of their favorite actresses is Danielle Darrieux. A current showing of hers is “Katia.” In evidence of the fact that American actors are well known was the advertisement which was extolling a Mexican actor “more passionate that Charles Boyer, more irresistible than Clark Gable, more arrogant than Errol Flynn, more seductive than Tyrone Pow er.’’ Power is such a favorite with the people there that on a recent visit he was nearly mobbed by a huge throng of women. In order to prepare potential pa trons for the plot of one movie, it was described as “too strong for young ladies.” was the greatest story of the year," he said. And because of Douglas Corri gan a train waited three minutes for him to make a phone call in Las Vegas, Nevada, he said. When the man at the desk found out that he was Irish he begged the con ductor to give a break to the man from the country which had treat ed “our Douglas Corrigan" so well. The train waited, Mr. ODuilearga said. 100 Braille Books Given Blind UW Law Students By MIRIAM HALE Law students who continually make good grades are tough—they have to be tough to keep it up. But when you see a blind law student making B grades (as a few are doing), you know he is plenty tough. Up to now these handicapped students at the University of Washington have had to hire per sons to read their intricate text books and pamphlets to them, but at last they will get a break, ac cording to Arthur S. Beardsley, law librarian. The Library of Congress has sent J00 law volumes in Braille to the Washington law school. A page Of Braille type printing is made up of rows of raised dots and depres sions, and the volumes are very large and light. It takes 14 vol umes of Braille to equal one aver age-sized law book. — U. of W. Daily. * * # Mathematical Toast To the ladies, the beings who divide our sorrows, double our joys, and treble our expenses.—Tulane Hullabaloo. V Fact If all the boys at the dormitory table were placed elbow to elbow they would .still reach across the table.—Corsair. ■* at at No Piker Proud Oceanic Traveler I’m an author! I contribute to the “At lantic Monthly.’’ Seasick Friend Phooey! I con tribute to the Atlantic daily. Au burn Plainsman. Zeiss Cameras, Agfa Film DOTSON'S CflAN CHEW CHINESE HERD CO. Herb Specialist Definite relief against all diseases and chronic male* female, and chil dren ailments. HO jrr. ei* perlence In this work. It'rlce reasonable. Call for free Information, lira. 10 a. m. to (i p. m. weekdays. Sun. 10-12 noon. 935 Oak Street. (Jpstalra Gas Co Bring Your Eyesight Up to Date Fj^jTrtiinirara Modernize with Merriont h ul-Vue Glasses I'HKK KXAM1 NATION COMPKTKNT JSKHVK'K lirinjr your ryiosiglit up 1o ijatr. A'o11 may have a urrd lor "lassos, or your glasses may nooij roplaoo miuil. Olassi's wo furnisli will la; fashionod to suit you in niodorn-day .smartness of looks. Dr. Ella G. Meade on o.nm Bis i s I’Lonc IJoU 11 West btli More About Mr. Anderson ; The Dramatist Who Writes, Propaganda in Verse The Co-Writer of 'What Price Glory?' Vents His Indigation at Social Injustice by Writing Poetic Problem Dramas By GLENN HASSELROOTH Jim Tully's “Beggars of Life" furnished the plot for Maxwell An derson's next play, and if frank and ribald dialogue alone brought in; the customers to "What Price Glory?” "Outside Looking In” should have had them lined up in the streets. It appealed to the sociologists as a documentation of the lives of those from the other side of the tracks, but the public felt that Anderson's dramatic abilities had been wasted in this realistic plea for fairness to hoboes. Financially, “Out side Looking In” was unsuccessful. The third play turned out by the combination of Anderson and Stallings was based on the amours of Sir Henry Morgan. "The Buc caneer’’ contained fair characteri zation. no small dose of wit, and enough humor to make most plays successful. But the critics recog nized shades of Sheridan and eigh teenth century comedy, decided it was really not much more than a commingling of broad and bustle comedy, and called it unoriginal. It closed soon after its premiere. Lucky Seven Of Anderson's first six plays, only one, the powerful "What Price Glory?" was a hit, and it had been written in collaboration. But it was to be a “lucky seven” for him, because his next, written alone, was an instantaneous suc cess. He had seen, via the road of experience, that his old-time ro mances or his studies of life of the lowly-trodden would not click at the box office; so for his next, An derson chose a down-to-earth sit uation of the American scene. For “Saturday's Children” he delved into the outwardly uneventful lives of middle classes, and told a story of two young married people, fair ly average and truthful, who were living on the hope that the old adage about two living as cheaply as one was true. Ruth Gordon did not have a difficult role to master, but she carried much of the play with her poignant part of the young wife who tries to adjust her self to living the way she has to - if she is to keep her husband. As entertainment, “Saturday’s Children” was good fun. It had homely dialogue; some critics even went so far as to call it a “minor classic.” But it was only a hold over along the road toward the goal Anderson had set for himself. Its subject was not of the deep -rooted controversial nature, nor was it written in poetry, where Anderson found his best expres sion. As far as he was concerned, it was a nice little "potboiler” that provided incidental “sport” until he could get down to something really worthwhile. Propaganda? Just before the depression broke the spirit of the country, the ap pearance of the Sacco-Vanzetti case in the headlines almost de stroyed Anderson's faith in social ! justice. The indignation he felt is ; embodied in the powerful satiric | speeches of “Gods of the Light j ning,” which he wrote with Har I old Hickerson. Admittedly, it was | propaganda, but a most excellently revelatory piece of poetic drama. Previously, Anderson had been stumbling, turning what he want ed to write into flops (with the exception of "What Price Glory?”),, and seeing his pap become success ful. “Gods of The Lightning,” wilL not be remembered as a great play, but as the turning place in An derson’s career. With the appear ance of “God’s of Ligtning,’’ he. was no longer the homeless neo phyte of the theater. He had de veloped lasting philosophy regard-, ing the life he knew to be both treacherous and fair. He had long realized that no people go about declaiming poetry, but he was now beginning to catch on to the sys tem of making even the poetic speeches of gangsters and Indians sound real. He was starting to make his characters red-blooded, not props of the histronic art. All for a Poem During the season when “Gods of The Lightning” opened on. Broadway, “Gypsy” was produce! by Richard Herndon at the Klaw theater in New York. The critics thought its sexy leading charac ter sound, but found its ending trite and unbelievably melodramat ic. Ellen, the girl nicknamed “Gyp- , sy,” began to loathe her own char acter and was driven to turning on the suicidal gas because she read a poem that began, “Your love is like a quicksand . where men build, Day after day, bright palaces of, years,” and even Joseph Wood Krutch. was not fooled with its artificial ity. Of it he said: “The psychology . belongs to cheaply moral fiction.” Today it is remembered as a play of character and “wrong fate." Anderson’s next play, “Elizabeth The Queen,” was a success d’es time, but was also a box office bo nanza. The playwright is accredit ed the honor of making the ro mance of Elizabeth and Essex be lievable for the first time. Alex ander Woollcott called it the “ma cabre pas de deux which was halt ed with a crash of cymbals when she cut his head off.” Elizabeth Bitter Elizabeth, the queen who "kept much of her country in content and so many of her friends in the Tower,” is perverse, bitter, with-" ered, wanting to be as much mis tress of her own heart as she is of Britain. She is fascinated with the (Please turn to page [our) TttfDanaM in' a hilarious romance of a Modern Cinderella , • • <PLUS» i\N 'I'M E 1 Mwroutu' V with GLADYS GEORGE <-4 Paramount Picture. ■