imagination
and sentiment delimit
the novelist’s realm
Imagination and sentiment, which quite properly delimit the dimensions of the novelist’s realm, are a dangerous medium, however, through which to approach the subject of battle.
Historians, traditionally and rightly, are expected to ride their feelings on a tighter rein than the man of letters can allow himself.
From The Face of Battle by John Keegan, Pimlico, 2004.
Historians, traditionally and rightly, are expected to ride their feelings on a tighter rein than the man of letters can allow himself.
Hmmmmmmm.
Imagination and sentiment, which quite properly delimit the dimensions of the novelist’s realm, are a dangerous medium, however, through which to approach the subject of battle.
Hmmmmmmmm.
It happened so with a group of Sheridan’s scouts, who captured a Captain Stump, famous as a Rebel raider, a man they had long been seeking. He had been wounded, and when he was caught they took his weapons away and brought him to Major Young, who commanded the scouts, and Major Young had a certain respect for this daring guerilla, so he told him:
“I suppose you know we will kill you. But we will not serve you as you have served our men—cut your throat or hang you. We will give you a chance for your life. We will give you ten rods’ start on your own horse, with your spurs on. If you get away, all right… . But remember, my men are dead shots.”
Captain Stump was bloody and he had been hurt, but he was all man. He smiled, and nodded, and rode a few feet out in front of the rank of his captors—skinny young men, 130 pounds or less, unmarried, the pick of the Yankee cavalry. Major Young looked down the rank, and called out: “Go!”
A cavalryman wrote about it afterward:
“We allowed him about ten rods’ start, then our pistols cracked: and he fell forward, dead.”
From A Stillness at Appomattox by Bruce Catton.
According to Wikipedia, Oliver Jensen, who succeeded Catton as editor of American Heritage, wrote that “No one ever wrote American history with more easy grace, beauty and emotional power, or greater understanding of its meaning, than Bruce Catton… There is a near-magic power of imagination in Catton’s work [that] almost seemed to project him physically onto the battlefields, along the dusty roads and to the campfires of another age.”
There is a near-magic power of imagination in Catton’s work that while it traditionally and rightly, is expected to ride their feelings on a tighter rein than the man of letters can allow himself, imagination and sentiment, seems to project him physically onto the battlefields, along the dusty roads and to the campfires of another age.
No Haiku For You 