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And Martin declined, and was more puzzled than ever.
He was kept busy disposing of his heap of manuscripts. He was
overwhelmed by requests from editors. It had been discovered that
he was a stylist, with meat under his style. THE NORTHERN REVIEW,
after publishing "The Cradle of Beauty," had written him for half a
dozen similar essays, which would have been supplied out of the
heap, had not BURTON'S MAGAZINE, in a speculative mood, offered him
five hundred dollars each for five essays. He wrote back that he
would supply the demand, but at a thousand dollars an essay. He
remembered that all these manuscripts had been refused by the very
magazines that were now clamoring for them. And their refusals had
been cold-blooded, automatic, stereotyped. They had made him
sweat, and now he intended to make them sweat. BURTON'S MAGAZINE
paid his price for five essays, and the remaining four, at the same
rate, were snapped up by MACKINTOSH'S MONTHLY, THE NORTHERN REVIEW
being too poor to stand the pace. Thus went out to the world "The
High Priests of Mystery," "The Wonder-Dreamers," "The Yardstick of
the Ego," "Philosophy of Illusion," "God and Clod," "Art and
Biology," "Critics and Test-tubes," "Star-dust," and "The Dignity
of Usury," - to raise storms and rumblings and mutterings that were
many a day in dying down.
Editors wrote to him telling him to name his own terms, which he
did, but it was always for work performed. He refused resolutely
to pledge himself to any new thing. The thought of again setting
pen to paper maddened him. He had seen Brissenden torn to pieces
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by the crowd, and despite the fact that him the crowd acclaimed, he
could not get over the shock nor gather any respect for the crowd.
His very popularity seemed a disgrace and a treason to Brissenden.
It made him wince, but he made up his mind to go on and fill the
money-bag.
He received letters from editors like the following: "About a year
ago we were unfortunate enough to refuse your collection of love-
poems. We were greatly impressed by them at the time, but certain
arrangements already entered into prevented our taking them. If
you still have them, and if you will be kind enough to forward
them, we shall be glad to publish the entire collection on your own
terms. We are also prepared to make a most advantageous offer for
Martin Eden
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246
bringing them out in book-form."
Martin recollected his blank-verse tragedy, and sent it instead.
He read it over before mailing, and was particularly impressed by
its sophomoric amateurishness and general worthlessness. But he
sent it; and it was published, to the everlasting regret of the
editor. The public was indignant and incredulous. It was too far
a cry from Martin Eden's high standard to that serious bosh. It
was asserted that he had never written it, that the magazine had
faked it very clumsily, or that Martin Eden was emulating the elder
Dumas and at the height of success was hiring his writing done for
him. But when he explained that the tragedy was an early effort of
his literary childhood, and that the magazine had refused to be
happy unless it got it, a great laugh went up at the magazine's
expense and a change in the editorship followed. The tragedy was
never brought out in book-form, though Martin pocketed the advance
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royalties that had been paid.
COLEMAN'S WEEKLY sent Martin a lengthy telegram, costing nearly
three hundred dollars, offering him a thousand dollars an article
for twenty articles. He was to travel over the United States, with
all expenses paid, and select whatever topics interested him. The
body of the telegram was devoted to hypothetical topics in order to
show him the freedom of range that was to be his. The only
restriction placed upon him was that he must confine himself to the
United States. Martin sent his inability to accept and his regrets
by wire "collect."
"Wiki-Wiki," published in WARREN'S MONTHLY, was an instantaneous
success. It was brought out forward in a wide-margined,
beautifully decorated volume that struck the holiday trade and sold
like wildfire. The critics were unanimous in the belief that it
would take its place with those two classics by two great writers,
"The Bottle Imp" and "The Magic Skin."
The public, however, received the "Smoke of Joy" collection rather
dubiously and coldly. The audacity and unconventionality of the
storiettes was a shock to bourgeois morality and prejudice; but
when Paris went mad over the immediate translation that was made,
the American and English reading public followed suit and bought so
many copies that Martin compelled the conservative house of
Singletree, Darnley & Co. to pay a flat royalty of twenty-five per
cent for a third book, and thirty per cent flat for a fourth.
These two volumes comprised all the short stories he had written
and which had received, or were receiving, serial publication.
"The Ring of Bells" and his horror stories constituted one
collection; the other collection was composed of "Adventure," "The
Pot," "The Wine of Life," "The Whirlpool," "The Jostling Street,"
and four other stories. The Lowell-Meredith Company captured the
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collection of all his essays, and the Maxmillian Company got his
"Sea Lyrics" and the "Love-cycle," the latter receiving serial
publication in the LADIES' HOME COMPANION after the payment of an
extortionate price.
Martin heaved a sigh of relief when he had disposed of the last
manuscript. The grass-walled castle and the white, coppered
schooner were very near to him. Well, at any rate he had
Martin Eden
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247
discovered Brissenden's contention that nothing of merit found its
way into the magazines. His own success demonstrated that
Brissenden had been wrong.
And yet, somehow, he had a feeling that Brissenden had been right,
after all. "The Shame of the Sun" had been the cause of his
success more than the stuff he had written. That stuff had been
merely incidental. It had been rejected right and left by the
magazines. The publication of "The Shame of the Sun" had started a
controversy and precipitated the landslide in his favor. Had there
been no "Shame of the Sun" there would have been no landslide, and
had there been no miracle in the go of "The Shame of the Sun" there
would have been no landslide. Singletree, Darnley & Co. attested
that miracle. They had brought out a first edition of fifteen
hundred copies and been dubious of selling it. They were
experienced publishers and no one had been more astounded than they
at the success which had followed. To them it had been in truth a
miracle. They never got over it, and every letter they wrote him
reflected their reverent awe of that first mysterious happening.
They did not attempt to explain it. There was no explaining it.
It had happened. In the face of all experience to the contrary, it
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had happened.
So it was, reasoning thus, that Martin questioned the validity of
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