SOME REGENT FICTION.

Dominion, Volume 8, Issue 2348, 2 January 1915, Page 4

SOME REGENT FICTION.

MARIE CORELLI'S LATEST. j ; ' Miss Corelli' desoribesher latest novel r-as the. "story of a girl's.imagiiiative and credulous.soul, slain at the'very outset of her life by its own too fond and'romantic ideals." The heroine of r "Innocent, Her Fancy and His Fact" (Hodder and Stoughton; per Whitcombe and Tombs) is assuredly sore tried by fate and fortune, and tens of thousands of readers will share my regret that her I romance should have so bad an ending. That the-story is "well told, as a; story, goes without saying, for whatever may be thought and said about "Miss Corelli's literary affectations, poses, her labouring of the obvious, her'florid elaboration of the'sickly sentimental, and the cheaply melodramatic, she must at least be credited with posaessing a vivid and rich imagination, and a special gift for composing-awell-knit, narrative, interest in which, once aroused, is secured continuously, to -the end.,of the. story. But one gets very'weary of the author's constant railings against those who fail to accept' her'•literary ,'gifts at the author's own -valuation, j. ■ Her heroine this time writes: brilliant stories only for wicked critics -to : treat, them with contemptuousindifference, is, of course, Miss CJqroUi; under another name. Her-second'lover, who rejoices in -the name of Ainadis. de. Jocelyn— how the readers .of the ,ohoe-famous "London Journal" or."£ow;Bells" novelettes would.haveyrejoiced overmuch a namel—isays to her: ■-~:. "Well, you'don't give-yourself any airs, and'you' seem to play at literature like.a'child playing ata game. Of course,;you make money by it,' but-vpou kiaow better than I do that the' greatest writers"—he .' emphasised the word . "greatest" slightly—"never make money, and " are never'popular. "Does failure constitute, greatness?" she.-,asked, -.with a faintly satirical inflection in - her sweet voice ■.which he had never heard before. ' "Sometimes—in fact uretty often," he replied,: dabbing • tier brush' busily on his canvas. "You should read about great authors." "I have read about'tliom," sho said. Walter Scott was' popular and made'money ; Charles Dickens Was popular said made money; Thackeray. was popular and ' made money; Shakespeare .himself seemed to have had the'one principal aim of making- sufficient' money to live comfortably in his. native town, and he was 'popular' in his day—indeed, he 'played to the gallery.'"

The suggested comparison is obvious, ,arid Miss CoroUi, in common with the '■Lord of Greba Castle, the equally self- ; satisfied Mr. Hall Caine, and the awful I, Charles Garvice, can study her banki book with that calm-satisfaction which comes of being the ''best seller." ' By the same line of argument the author of "The Rosary" and—although Miss Corclli and Mrs. Barclay would be hor- : rifled at _ the very thought of such a combination—Mr. Nat Gbuld, are vastly superior writers to Thomas Hardy, ana ,H. G. Wells, and John Galsworthy. Well, well, let Mies Corolli have hor ' way, and make her. tons of thousands of pounds. 'Vyiiat she ;thinks or says about the art of fiction, or literature gonoral'y, really matters very little, i But it does seem a pity that'an author who is possessed of such naturally high gifts should degrade them as sho does by these frequent outbursts of egotism. As usual, Mies Corelli airs her grievance that men,as a rulo are jealous of and resent "any woman's success, especially in the arte." Men, she says, have a never-failing contempt for the achievements of gifted women. What nonsense! It would be easy to quote many instances of.women's work, both .in literature.and art, finding unstinted, oven enthusiastic, praise from contemporary artiste and authors. As to English authors and publishers and criticß of standing and reputation being engaged, as it were, in one vast conspiracy to prevent the work- of women writers getting a fair hearing, the contention is too absurd to be .worthy of serious comment. Having said all tin's, let mo add that Miss Corelli's latest story contains passages, especially those descriptive of English rural life, which are couched in a style of singular and .n^e^a.bi9jißj l jjiiy Aj aad fchalyijs _ft.#ory, l

putting aside its didactic and contentious passages, well maintains its author's popularity, with her own particular public.

MR. H. C. WELLS'S NEW NOVEL. Mr. Wells's latesu novel, "The Wife of Sir Isaao Harman" (Macmillan and Co.), is rather disappointing. One ib apt to become somewhat weary of heroines of the type of Lady Harman, who, married to men bound body and soul, in this case quite willingly, in tho fetters of a base and sordid commercialism, have scant comprehension of, and even loss sympathy with, anything in the shape of what might be called advanced feminism. Harman himself, the head of the great "Staminal Bread Trust," with its hundreds of cheap restaurants run by grasping and tyrannous managers, and by sweated girl employees, is a type which has been fairly done to death in- latter-day English fiction. We met him, in a slightly altered shape, in Miss Reeves's last hook, "A Lady and a Husband," to- which, in more ways than one, Mr. Wells's story beats a quite curious resemblance. In each story the wife of the trust magnate gets heartily sick of the empty luxury of her life, but in Mr. Wells s novel the husband, unlike the chief male figure in Miss Reeves's story, is personally mean and brutal, as well as being spitefully intolerant of his wife's individual opinions and tastes, whereas in "A Lady and Her Husband" the ruler of the household was genially uxorious. In both stories the wife learns in time -that the luxury of her everyday existence is, to no small extent, tho result of thei merciless sweating of her husband's employees, and in each case the wife revolts and insists upon an,alteration of the sordid: economic system by which she has indirectly profited.' In Mr.' Wells's story-j however/there is an allimportant third party, a Mr Brumley, a middle-aged widower, an author by profession. Mr. Brumley'* earlier" and quite Platonic affection develops in timo_ into a ' stronger, more physical passion, but Lady Harman is not of the same stuff as Ann Veronica, neither is Mr. Brumley ever inclined to defy Mrs. Grundy, as does so cheerfully the principal niale figr.ro in "The New Macchiavelli." "The Wifo of Sir Isnao Harman"_ is, I may assure any timid readers—if such' ever peruse "Liber's" criticisms—belongs to the same class as Mr. Wells's "Marriage," and 1 is, like that story, a clever satirical onslaught on-the emptiness and futility of the life of tho British wenlthy middle class. Its chief fault is that the author too frcmiontly neglects the story itself to embroider upon the actual, essential narrative' short hut interfering essays on tho social, literary, and economic ques-. tions in which - he takes so keen an interest. Nevertheless,' there abound in its pages those delightful minor character sketches, sometimes almost caricatures, which Mr. Wells can draw with such telling vigour. If ho would temper his desire to speak tbrough--his 'characters} tho story would be better tlmn it is. They all—especially Mr Brumley —talk too much. But one must never miss a "now Wells," and although, as I have said, "The Wife of Sir- Isaao Harman" is not its author's best, even his second best is worth a good score of the average novels of the "day.

SHORTER NOTICES. \ "Louis Norbert, a Two-fold Romance"(John Lane), is a decidedly original and agreeably entertaining story, tho author of which, Vernon Lee ,(the nom-de-plume of Miss Violet. Pa-got), is'a well-known .writer on Italian, history and art, especially of the Renaissance period. Tho story turns upon tho discovery by an English lady, in the Campo Santo at Pisa, of a marble tablet recording tho death, in 1682, of one Louis Norbert do Caritan. A portrait bearing tho same riaiho hangs in the lady's house in England, the identity of the original having long been u mystery to the owner-and her family. Partly through the lady's own-re-searches, partly with the.aid of a zealous professor of archaelogy, the life history of. the mysterious Louis Norbert is unveiled. He is proved to have 'been the illegitimate, son of Louis the Fourteenth by Marie Mancini, Cardinal Mazarin's beautiful niece, to whom, so the author maintains,- the monarch was secretly married. Much picturesque and interesting historical colour, is woven into the story, which alike in subject and manner of tolling, is quite refreshingly and most pleasingly original.

A_ Girl's Marriage," by 'Agnes Gordon .Lennox (John Lane), is somewhat amateurish in style, but contains some cleverly-drawn characters, and if it be, as. I suspect, a "first novel," gives good promise of .stronger and belter work to come from the same pen. Honestly, I find it difficult to accept as possible the really astounding innocence of the heroine, who has not, Wo ore asked to believe, the faintest idea of what is really meant by marriage, nor can I credit the equally 'astonishing acceptance by the young lady's%rothers, of such ignorance. The, truth is ' that Fay Beaumont.would be quite an,impossible person in real life, although, so it must bo admitted, the story of her own and her brother Pat's loves and matrimonial experiences are made by dint of Lho author's ingenuity, very interesting, indeed almost fascinating. , When an author can' secure and hold the reader's interest, oven in the seemingly improbable, much may be forgiven. Two stories'from the pen of the late Monsignor Robert Hugh Benson are included in a rccont batch of additions to Hutchinson's Colonial Library (per Whitcombe and Tombs). La the first, ."Initiation," the chief figure is anEnglish baronet, , Sir Nevil Fanning, a Catholic, who meets in Rome a Protestant young lady, Enid Bessington, whose empty and selfish character the young man at first fails to discern. How enlightenment comes to him, how it is once again proved that "Knowledge by suffering entereth," I must leave it to the readers of the story to discover for themselves. As usual the author's style is oasy and graceful. ,In "Oddsfishj" the same author deals with a very different period and a very different nir mosphere. For the story is here largely historical in subject and flavour, dealing as it doe's with the experiences at the Court of. King Charles the Second of a young Catholic, who occupies a more-or less responsible position in the King's service. The story describes, in some detail, some of the numerous plots, real or feigned, aimed against Charles's life or the Catholio succession,. a prominent feature, being a close and careful study, from the author's special religious point of view, of the King's deathbed and tho secret Teoeption of tho so-called "Merry Monarch" into the Catholic Church. The Court itself is described from the point'of view of one who took part in it, a point of view differing not a little from that sot forth in "Pepys's Diary" or the "Grammont Memoirs," but is nono the less picturesque and interesting, and many well-known historical personages'are cleverly introduced. Both stories, oach in its own way, are so well written'and make such excellent reading that it is all the more regrettable that the pen of the clever author who wrote them has now been kid down never to be resumed-. ■

Two other recent additions to Messrs. Hutchinson's Colonial. Library (per Whitcombe and Tombs) are "Lismoyle," an Irish novel, by the veteran and always vivacious story-teller, Mrs. B. M. Crokor, and "Tho Gap of Youth," from tho almost equally well-practised hand .of Madame AlbanosL Pressure on my space this week forbids aught save tho briefest note on these two'very readable novels. Mrs. Croker is at her best, nowadays at least, on an Irish background, and the experiences of an Eng- ' lish heiress, who chooses • to spend six months with an unknown aunt in Irefendk ,-wjjilsti h«r. guardian, and, friesd^

tase a trip round tne world, aro related with all the author's customary vivacity and humour. -~''' "In '[Tie Cap of Youth," Madame Albanesi gives us a pleasant story of domestic life, her heroine being a schoolgirl who is harshly treated by an almost unnaturally cruel and spiteful female relative. For a time, quite a long time, in fact, poor Virginia Braye is very seurvily treated by Dame Fortune, even to the extreme of being deserted by her husband on her wedding day and left under the care of a peculiarly, objectionable mother-in-law. Nevertheless Madame Albanesi gives us the designed happy ending