ABSTRACT
Pope's day was bad enough, in. all conscience, but we really prefer it to the new Grub Street of Mr Gissing's pages. In the former there was much that was revolting, but there was also something of camaraderie and good-fellowship, of brotherly kindness and charity; in the latter nothing is heard but the one cry, 'Every man for himse]£ and the devil take the hindmost.' It is difficult to say whether we are more depressed by the slow torture which in various ways crushes the life out ofEdwin Reardon, Alfred Yule, and Harold Biffen, or by the snaky wrigglings, each of which brings Jasper Milvain nearer to his paradise of pounds, shillings, pence, and fame. It seems to us that here, as elsewhere, Mr Gissing holds a brief for pessimism, and that his story is, in essence, an ex-parte statement; but the force and impressiveness of the statement are unmistakable. The chapters which deal with the relations between the unpractical genius Reardon and his practical wife; the story ofYule and his daughter; the description of Biffen's rescue of his precious manuscript from the burning lodging-house, are all master's work; and there is not in the whole book a single page which lacks the force ofa relentless realism. New Grub Street is, in short, a novel which many may fail to enjoy, but which few competent critics can fail to admire, even if they admire under protest.
