These people have strange and interesting adventures which we could not possibly imagine happening to ourselves.
This type of book is directly responsible for the second sort. The author of this type is deadly afraid of being thought to brag of his adventures. He feels that the critical eyes of the old-timers is constantly on him. When he comes to describe the first time a rhino dashed in his direction, he remembers that old hunters, who have been so charged hundreds of times, may read the book. Suddenly, in that light, the adventure becomes pitifully unimportant. He sets down the fact that "we met a rhino that turned a bit nasty, but after a shot in the shoulder decided to leave us alone." Throughout the story he keeps in his mind's eye the imaginary audience of those who have done. He writes for them, to please them, to convince them that he is not "swelled head," nor "cocky," nor "is full of himself," nor thinks he has done, been, or seen anything wonderful. It is a good, healthy frame of mind to be in. But it, just as with the other type, can produce books that leave on the minds of the general public no impression of a country in relation to a real human being.
As a matter of fact, the same trouble is at the bottom of both failures. The adventure writer, half unconsciously perhaps, has been too much occupied play-acting himself into half-forgotten boyhood heroics. The more modest man, with even more self-consciousness, has been thinking of how he is going to appear in the eyes of the expert. Both have thought of themselves before their work. This view of the matter would probably vastly astonish the modest writer.
If, then, one is to formulate a goal toward which to write, he might express it exactly in terms of man and environment. Those readers who desire sheer exploration can get it in any library. Those in search of sheer romantic adventure can purchase plenty of it in any book store. But the majority of people want something different from either of these. They want, first of all, to know what the country is like. They don't want it in vague and grandiose "word paintings," nor in strange and foreign sounding words and phrases. They want it in comparison with something they know. What is it nearest like -- @Arizona?
