John Cornelius

Walpole, as the biographer of the life of John Cornelius, wrote a long, first person narrative of the life of a genius who could never bring his world of dreams in tune with the world of reality for himself or for those who read his books, a writer who strove desperately to produce serious novels, and who died famous and acknoledged for three slim volumes of fairy tales. Walpole wrote remantically of a character whose life was never very real, and who could not find happiness, except at odd moments because of this gulf between him and the world. Walpole's romantic flights have realistic intermission to temper them. It has been only after much thought and consideration that I have finally decided on the form that this book must take. John Cornelius died on December 8th, 1921. During the years since his death there has appeared an official biography;[1] also, among others, two critical works of especial importance.[2]