Newspaper Page Text
*
Gabriele
D’Annunzio
Who
Promises
to Surprise
(he World
by Committing Suicide in a Unique Way.
Paris. Nov. 22.
G abriele d'anndnzio, the
Italian poet and dramatist,
has intimated that he will
leave the earth within two years.
Having burnt the candle at both
ends, being worn out with artistic
labors and sensual enjoyments, lie
feels that lie should not linger until
an impotent, unproductive and un
graceful old age overtakes him.
Death lias always had a fascina
tion for D'Annunzio. "The Triumph
of Death” is his most famous work,
and in every one death, following a
life of passion and corruption, i- the
climax. His mind is constantly busy
devising novel forms of death. He
♦startles the world by announcing
that be will die in a new and glor
ious way, that he will volatilize him
self. changing Ills mortal body into
a vapor, so that it may mingle with
Hie universal air.
Charles Le llargy, the well known
French actor, has told how d'Annun-
zio expressed himself on these mat
ters in a conversation. D’Annunzio
began by saying that the only life
he could ever lead was one intense
and passionate; that before infirmity,
or old age could compel him to live
the dull life of ordinary mortals he
should kill himself. Inasmuch as he
had occasionally felt the dull hand
of time depressing his tires he said
he had made his plans to leave the
eartli very soon.
The actor smiled and told him
that he could live a very happy mid
dle age or old age in a little villa in
the country, surrounded by his books,
and that he would learn to regard
the absence of the so-called pleasures
of youth as a blessing. D'Annunzio
then assured him earnestly that
he loathed such a peaceful prospect,
that he would remain a passionate
pilgrim to the end. He convinced
the actor that he was thoroughly in
earnest.
“Within two years 1 shall put an
end to myself,” said D'Annunzio.
“That will allow just sufficient time
to establish the fame of the drama I
am now completing. I shall die in a
manner that will make the whole
world wonder. 1 shall be D'Annun
zio the superb, whom the whole
Latin world has applauded, in the
\ull pride of body and mind, up to
the latest instant of my earthly ex
istence.
“I shall change into a sweet vapor
and mingle with the whole universe.
1 shall be volatilized into inlinitc
molecules. 1 shall never rot in a
common grave.
My dear sir, can
you imagine Ga
briele D’Annunzio
buried with a lirst
class Parisian
funeral, with hired mourners and
black feathers? Never! Believe me,
i shall die in an interesting manner.”
Since this conversation the friends
of D’Annunzio and the artistic! pub
lic of Paris have really become con
viuced that the poet is planning his
death. Many well-known facts tend
to confirm this impression. He lias
just reached his fiftieth year and. of
course, one who has pursued the
pleasures of life too ardently, D apt
to experience a feeling of despon
dency at that age.
Another significant fact is that
Ida Rubinstein, the most vivid and
picturesque of the many women
D’Annunzio has known, has grown
cold toward him once more. In his
earlier life D'Annunzio always caused
the women he admired to suffer
exposing them to shame and ridicule.
Ida Rubinstein has turned the tablet-
on him.
D'Annunzio lirst became captivated
by her when she played the title*
role in his curious drama of Roman
decadence and Christian martyrdom,
“Saint Sebastian.” Ida Rubinstein
is a Russian dancer with the grace of
a lithe young panther. She fled
from a millionaire Russian husband
to become a dancer. At first she
repulsed D’Annunzio, and it was said
that both of them had turned to re
ligion. While they were separated,
however. D’Annunzio was exaspera
ted to learn that she was enjoying
the society of a millionaire brewer.
Then he tried to win her back with
the greatest effort of his dramatic
career, "The Pisanella or the Poi
soned Death.” She gained a great
success in the title role. Paris saw
that she smiled upon the gifted au
thor for a time, but now she has
turned from him again. That is
why D’Annunzio’s morbid imagina
tion is today fixed on his own death.
The interest now centres in what
kind of mysterious and dramatic
death he has planned for himself.
There is no known chemical proc
ess by which he could change him
self quickly and gracefully into a
sweet vapor. He might accomplish
his purpose by being consumed in a
tremendous furnace, but this would
be too gross and inartistic an end
ing for him, and, besides, he would
have difficulty in finding persons to
assist him in such an unlawful un
dertaking.
An idea lias taken strong hold of
the Parisian mind that D’Annunzio
contemplates ending his life in the
manner of the famous old Greek
Paris Fears He Will Follow the
Example of His Favorite Philos
opher, Empedocles, Who Plunged
into the Boiling Crater of Aetna
philosopher, Empedocles, who
plunged into Hie burning crater of
the volcano Aetna.
Empedocles was tlie mc/st fasci
nating of the early Greek philoso
phers. He lived in Sicily in the
fifth century before Christ. He for
mulated an atomic theory which is
practically identical with that of
modern science, and anticipated
many other modern discoveries.
With all his knowledge he was in
tensely fond of popttlai admira
tion.
He was revered as a god by the
people. He banished malaria front
the marshes, doubled the harvests
and raised people from the dead,
tic expounded his teachings in the
forth of beautiful poems and hymns.
His followers—men and women—
worshipped his august aspect as he
moved among them with purple
robes and golden girdle, with long
hair bound by a Delphic garland
and brazen sandals on his feet, and
with a retinue of slaves behind him.
Empedocles could not endure the
thought of losiug his glorious beauty
and becoming an object of pity to bis
men, and especially his women fol
lowers. He, therefore, gave
it out that he was about
to pass into another world
and secretly plunged into
the burning crater of
Aetna, hoping that his
followers, finding no trace
of his body, would believe
urly man and his works teem with
allusions to obscure and curious
classic authors. He has studied es
pecially the personality of Empedo
cles.
He lias worn the purple robe of
Empedocles. As D'Annunzio form
erly lived in his beautiful Floren
tine villa, surrounded by male and
female admirers, he might have
been taken for a reincarnation of
the early philosopher. In an old
letter of this Florentine period
D’Annunzio wrote:
“I have known what it is to be a
divinity. I have received the wor
ship of women. As I rose front my
plunge in the glorious Mediterranean
this morning, a duchess of the race
ot the Medici waited for me upon
the shore. She throw a purple robe
over my splendid nudity. Site held
my white steed by the bridle as I
mounted and rode away.”
Creditors disturbed this dream of
divinity by seizing the villa and its
artistic contents. They helped to
pave the way for the despondency
which now makes the poet contem
plate putting a mysterious climax
to his life.
D'Annunzio’s allusion to the wor
ship of women which he has en
joyed seem? to be well founded. In
early youth he married the Duchess
di Gallese, a woman of noble fam
ily and wealth, who w r as captivated
by hi> talents, lie treated her as tiis
Sem's Carica
ture of D'An
nunzio, Show
ing the Poet in
the Ancient
Greek Cos
tume he Loves
in his miraculous translation. But,
according to the favorite legend, his
hopes were cheated by the volcano,
which cast forth his brazen sandals
and betrayed his secret.
Matthew Arnold has written an
interesting poem on this subject, in
which he makes Empedocles speak
these words just before plunging
into the crater:
“It hath been granted me
Not to die wholly, not to be all en
slaved.
I feel it in this hour. The numbing
cloud
Mounts off iny soul: 1 feel it,
I breathe free.
“Is it but for a moment?
Ah! boil up, ye vapors!
Leap and roar, thou Sea of Fire!
My soul glows to meet you.
Ere it tlag, ere the mists
Ot despondency and gloom
Rush over it again,
Receive me! Save me.
(He leaps into the crater.)"
Now it is known that D’Aununzio
is a close student and admirer of
Empedocles. He is a very schol-
D’Annunzio’s Favorite Greek Philosopher Empedocles Surrounded by His Pupils arid
Admirers. Painting by A. Feuerbach.
Ida
Rubinstein,
the
Fiery
Young
Russian
Dancer,
Whose Coldness to Him Has
Made D’Annunzio Think
Gloomy Thoughts.
slave. No thought
of her presence
and the considera
tion due to her as
a wife ever pre
vented him from
enjoying the so
ciety of his latest
adorer. He simply
(commanded h i s
wife to bring wine and be silent.
She obtained a divorce and is now
noted in Paris for the beauty and
splendor of her dresses. The cause
of her obtaining the divorce was his
friendship with Eleonora Duse, the
greatest tragedienne of modern Italy.
Duse he treated with remarkable
cruelty. She had always main
tained a great mystery about her
early life and her personality. In
an hour of tender intimacy she told
D’Annunzio the whole story of her
young life, its cruel hardships and
shameful experiences. To the
amazement of ordinary men, he put
Duse’s whole story in his next book,
entitled “Fire.” He described the
actress so accurately that no one
can doubt who was meant.
He recognizes no morality in art
or life. Morality is made to keep or
dinary men under control, but to one
who is infinitely above the common
herd it has no application. If a
thing is true art, it is worth doing,
no matter how much suffering it may
cause. A French critic has re
marked that D’Annunzio has the
virtue of practicing what he
preaches.
The publication of her secret made
Eleonora Duse turn from D’Annunzio
with hot indignation, but that was
no hardship to him, for he was al
ready enjoying the adoration of a
Titian-haired young Marchesa from
Mantua.
It would be idle to attempt to
catalogue how many interesting and
beautiful women have been fasci
nated by D’Annunzio’s talents. He
may be compared with Byron in this
respect.
Now, with advancing years and
chilling blood, he realizes that all
earthly pleasures are vanity. Like
his favorite philosopher, 'Empedo
cles, he is wrapped in “the mists of
despondency and gloom.” Tortured
by the fear of becoming a poor,
ridiculous, w r eak old man, he cries
aloud that he will end his life in a
blaze of glory.
Will he have the hardihood to'
carry out his rash promise? Will he
not rather live on to he a quiet, re
spectable, elderly man enjoying the
income of his plays and poems?
How Bernard Shaw Makes Fun of the British War Department in His New Play
B ERNARD SHAW has written a
new play called "Press Cut
tings” (just published by Bren-
tano), which makes fun of the War
Office and the way the authorities
are dealing with the suffragist move
ment in England. Here is one bright
scene in which General Mitchener,
of the War Office is preparing to in
terview Prime Minister Balsquith.
Mitchener tells his orderly to send
for Mrs. Farrell, the scrubwoman:
MITCHENER—Mrst: Farrell: I've
a very important visit to pay: 1
shall want my full dress uniform and
all my medals and orders and my
presentation sword. There was a
time when the British army con
tained men capable of discharging
these duties for their commanding
officer. Those days are over. The
compulsorily enlisted soldier runs to
a woman for everything. I m there
fore reluctantly obliged to trouble
you.
MRS. FARRELL—Your meddles n
ordhers n the crooked sword with
the ivory handle n your full dress
uniform is in the waxworks in the
Chamber o Military Glory over in
itlie place they useu to caii ure Law
\P
quetin Hall. 1 told you youd be sor
ry for sendin them away; n you told
me to mind me own business. Youre
wiser now.
MITCHENER—-I am. I had not at
that time discovered that you were
the only person in the whole mili
tary establishment of this capital
who could be trusted to remember
where anything w'as, or to under
stand an order and obey it.
MRS. FARRELL—Its no good flat-
thering me. lm too old.
MITCHENER—Not at all, Mrs.
Farrell. How is your daughter?
MRS. FARRELL—Which daugh
ter?
MITCHENER—The one who has
made such a gratifying success in
the Music Halls.
MRS. FARRELL Theres no music
halls nowadays; they re Variety-
Theatres. Sites got an offer of mar
riage from a young jook.
MITCHENER — is it possible?
What did you do?
MRS. FARRELL—I told his moth
er on him.
MITCHENER—Oh! what did she
say?
MRS. FARRELL—She was as
pleased as Punch. Thank heaven,
she says, hes got somebody thatll be
able to keep him when the super-tax
is put up to twenty shillings in the
pOUUU.
MITCHENER—'But your daughter
herself? What did she say?
MRS. FARRELL—‘Accepted him,
of course. What else would a young
fool like her do? He inthrojooced
her to the Poet Laureate, thinking
shed inspire him.
MITCHENER—Did she?
MRS. FARRELL—Faith I dunna.
All I know- is she walked up to him
as bold as brass u said “Write me a
sketch, dear.” Afther all the trouble
I took with that childs manners shes
no more notion how to behave her
self than a pig. Youll have to wear
General Sandstones uniform; its the
only one in the place, because he
wont lend it to the shows.
MITCHENER — But Sandstone’s
clothes won’t fit me.
MRS. FARRELL (unmoved) —
Then youll have to fit them. Why
shouldnt they tttcha as well as they
fitted General Blake at the Mansion
House?
MITCHENER—They didn’t fit him.
He looked a frightful guy.
MRS. FARRELL -Well, you must
do the best you can w-ith them. You
cant exhibit your clothes aud wear
them, too.
MITCHENER—And the public
thinks the lot of a commanding offi
cer a happy one! Oh, if they could
only see the seamy side of it. (He
returnn to hi* table to resume work.)
MRS. FARRELL—If they could
Sandstones uniform, where his flask
rubs agen the buckle of his braces,
theyll tell him he ought to get a new
one. Let alone the way he swears
at me.
MITCHENER—When a man has
risked his life on eight battlefields,
Mrs. Farrell, he has given sufficient
proof of his self-control to be ex
cused a little strong language.
MRS. FARRELL—Would you put
up with bad language from me be
cause lve risked my life eight times
in childbed?
MITCHENER—My dear Mrs. Far
rell, you surely would not compare
a risk of that harmless domestic kind
to the fearful risks of the battlefield?
MRS. FARRELL—I wouldnt com
pare risks run to bear living people
into the world to risks run to blow
them out of it. A mother’s risk is
jooty; a soldiers nothin but divilmint.
MITCHENER (nettled)—Let me
tell you, Mrs. Farrell, that if the nten
did not fight, the women would have
to fight themselves. We spare you
that, at all events.
MRS FARRELL—You cant help
yourselves. If three-quarters of you
was killed we could replace you with
the help of the other quarter. If
three-quarters of us was killed, how
many people would there be in Eng
land in another generation? If it
wasnt for that, the mendput the
fightin on us just as they put all the
other dhrudgery. What would you
do if we was all kilt? Would you go
to bed and have twins?
MITCHENER—Really, Mrs Far
rell, you must discuss these ques
tions with a medical man. You make
me blush, positively.
MRS FARRELL—A good job, too.
If I could have made Farrell blush I
wouldnt have had to risk me life too
often. You n your risks n your brav
ery n your self-control indeed! “Why
don’t you conthrol yourself?” I sez
to Farrell. “Its agen me religion,”
he sez.
MITCHENER (plaintively) — Mrs.
Farrell, you’re a woman of very pow
erful mind. I’m not qualified to ar
gue these delicate matters with you. I
I ask you to spare me, and to be |
good enough to take these clothes to
Mr. Balsquith when the ladies leave.
A Sculptor’s Design for His Own House
r A,
i
rflHE accompanying
"*■ photograph is the
idea sculptor Einar
Jonsson has of the
kind of a house he
would build for him
self when he returns
to his native Iceland.
The estimated outlay
to construct this
rather weird building!
is $30,000. There is no
residence anywhere
this side of the planet
Mars which resembles
sculptor Jonsson’s
architectural idea.
or'y see the seamy side of General
Copyright, 1913. by the Star Company. Great -Y
»■* v V •
t-a.