auel
im Moi
34. Spiel geng




0
ARTHUR SCHNITZLER
ICHNITZLER’S notebooks are re¬
S
plete with unwritten books—not
one, hundreds of them. He has folders
labelled, Plans, Novel Material,
Drama Material, etcetera. When¬
ever an idea occurs to him, he jots it
down, and it is then filed away in its
proper folder. When he is in need of
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box 6/1
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material, he glances over these note¬
books and finds what he wants. Often
he sees that a plan for a book has
grown within him, while he was totally
unaware of it. A chance word jotted
down, perhaps years ago, brings up
a whole situation that has been grow¬
ing in his mind. Some recent happen¬
ing may throw light on a sentence
here, on a thought there.
Daybreak For instance, appeared
thirty-five years ago as an eight-page
zketch. At that time it was to him an
unimportant piece of work, a mere
outline of a situation that occurred to
him at the time. Ever since then he
has felt that the matter was not set¬
tled; it bothered and pursued him like
a duty undone. Here we have the
novelette: the mature work of a ma¬
ture artist.