Well, as I was saying, this Difficulty of Beginning is but one of
three, and is Inexplicable, and is in the Nature of Things, and it is
very especially noticeable in the Art of Letters. There is in every
book the Difficulty of Beginning, the Difficulty of the Turning-Point
(which is the Grand Climacteric of a Book) -
LECTOR. What is that in a Book?
AUCTOR. Why, it is the point where the reader has caught on, enters
into the Book and desires to continue reading it.
LECTOR. It comes earlier in some books than in others.
AUCTOR. As you say ... And finally there is the Difficulty of Ending.
LECTOR. I do not see how there can be any difficulty in ending a book.
AUCTOR. That shows very clearly that you have never written one, for
there is nothing so hard in the writing of a book - no, not even the
choice of the Dedication - as is the ending of it. On this account only
the great Poets, who are above custom and can snap their divine
fingers at forms, are not at the pains of devising careful endings.
Thus, Homer ends with lines that might as well be in the middle of a
passage; Hesiod, I know not how; and Mr Bailey, the New Voice from
Eurasia, does not end at all, but is still going on.
