Anonymity

ANONYMITY An Enquiry
THE HOGARTH ESSAYS.
AN ENQUIRY
E. M. FORSTER
Published by Leonard & Virginia Woolf at the Hogarth Press 52 Tavistock Square, London, W.C. 1925
Printed by LOXLEY BROS. LTD., LONDON.
To L. H. C. S.
DO you like to know who a book’s by?
The question is more profound and even more literary than may appear. A poem for example: do we gain more or less pleasure from it when we know the name of the poet? The Ballad of Sir Patrick Spens , for example. No one knows who wrote Sir Patrick Spens . It comes to us out of the northern void like a breath of ice. Set beside it another ballad whose author is known— The Rime of the Ancient Mariner . That, too, contains a tragic voyage and the breath of ice, but it is signed Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and we know a certain amount about this Coleridge. Coleridge signed other poems and knew other poets; he ran away from Cambridge; he enlisted as a Dragoon under the name of Trooper Comberback, but fell so constantly from his horse that it had to be withdrawn from beneath him permanently; he was employed instead upon matters relating to sanitation; he married Southey’s sister, and gave lectures; he became stout, pious and dishonest, took opium and died. With such information in our heads, we speak of the Ancient Mariner as “a poem by Coleridge,” but of Sir Patrick Spens as “a poem.” What difference, if any, does this difference between them make upon our minds? And in the case of novels and plays—does ignorance or knowledge of their authorship signify? And newspaper articles—do they impress more when they are signed or unsigned? Thus—rather vaguely—let us begin our quest.
Books are composed of words, and words have two functions to perform: they give information or they create an atmosphere. Often they do both, for the two functions are not incompatible, but our enquiry shall keep them distinct. Let us turn for our next example to Public Notices. There is a word that is sometimes hung up at the edge of a tramline: the word “Stop.” Written on a metal label by the side of the line, it means that a tram should stop here presently. It is an example of pure information. It creates no atmosphere—at least, not in my mind. I stand close to the label and wait and wait for the tram. If the tram comes, the information is correct; if it doesn’t come, the information is incorrect; but in either case it remains information, and the notice is an excellent instance of one of the uses of words.