LIBER'S NOTE BOOK

Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 3030, 17 March 1917, Page 13

LIBER'S NOTE BOOK

French Novels in English "Translations."

No one who loads this column with any regularity would, I think, accuse "Liber" of any extreme Puritanism in his outlook upon literature Bui; I. must say that I heartily agree with much (if not all) that a "Wellington magistrate said tho other day upon certain English translations of Guy do Maupassant's and Paul dc Kock's stories. Do Maupassant was ono of the most brilliant exponents of that peculiarly French creation, tho conio (short story is hardly u correct synonym) that any country has over produced. I possess a full set of his works, and find in them a neverfailing resource against ennui. But De Maupassant in French and De Maupassant in English are two totally different people, and the villainously done, so-called translations (in reality much altered and horribly distorted and vulgarised adaptations) which have been sold out here in execrably printed editions, with catch-penny and suggestive titles, are an insult to tho name aud genius of tho great Frenchman. They can only appeal to the semi-illiterate and seekers after • the professedly salacious, and they certainly should not he sold indiscriminately ; indeed, they 'were better not sold at all. As for Paul de Kopk, save two or three of his stories dealing with a long since obsolete Bohemian life in Paris, ho is not taken seriously by French readers of to-day. Ho can be very funny at times, but wild horses would not drag me to a forced re-reading of even his best work. In the miserably inadequate "translations," or adaptations, in which he is •introduced to the New Zealand public, the real .Paul do Kock. is practically unrecognisable.. A French writer I should like to see widely sold and widely read would bo Alexandre Dumas, who delighted Thackeray,-and can still delight those who love a well-told story of adventure. In England, 60 I see, Dumas is tremendously popular just now, both, in the original French and in translations. Methuens pnhlish several of his \novels (well translated by Mr. Alfred Allinson) in cheap editions. Why are not these books available in our local bookshops and on the trains? Thero must be thousands of now readers, of , the younger and present generations, for the "Three Musketeers" and "Twenty Years After"; for "Hargucrito dc Valois," "La. Dame do Monsoreau" (the_latter often known in the English version as "Chicot tho Jester"), and others of the. great. Alexandre's fine stories.. v Grant Allen. The late Grant Allen, the. clever scientist who found writing \ novels (mainly of a very trashy character) so much more profitable an. occupation than scientific research work, was for some years principal of a college for coloured youths at Spanish Town, Jamaica. Allen crops up in .Edward Clodd's delightful book, "Memories," which I havo just beon reading, and which is full of interesting and amusing anecdotes. Writing to Clodd, Allen said his duties included "lecturing on every subject of human conjecture from tho weight'of-tho sun . . . to tho freedom of will." When ho rcturued to England ho wrote popular essays on scionco, but the domand failing, ho turned to novel writing, and was soon making a handsome income _ Most of his novels wero frankly sensational, hut thero is a volume of short stories, tho title of which I forget, which contains some really fine work. His "Woman Who Did" made a great sensation by its, at that time (1893), startling theories on marriage and kindred questions. If Allen could hut read sojno of tho problem novels of to-day! An ovolutionist, Allen had, nevertheless, many good friends amongst tho orthodox. Mr. Clodd tells how the late Canon Isaac Tavlor once said to Alien, in Mr. Clodd's uearing, that "ho must now and again havo some difficulty in. disposing of his rascala." "Not at all," retorted Allen, "I make them into Canons 1" Fortunately Taylor himself loved a joke. Ho once atsked' Mr. Clodd. to attend his church to hear his curate, who had recently begun a sermon on tho test, "Redeeming . the time," with the grave staieruefit: '<My dear, friends, procrastination is often the cause: of much delay." To tho Canon also.bo attributed tho weltknown ; s.tory. : of itho new housemaid who, after attending _ family prayors, .announced'.her intention to leave, on the .'ground-that "Master, said, '0 God, who hatcst nothing.but the 'ousemaid' "—"Master" having failccT, like too many clergymen, to pronounce his words clearly.

A Deganerato Pickwickian. ■As a devoted Dickensian, i am grieved to notice by a paragraph in an English paper thafc "a man named Samuel Weller, a conscientious objector, was charged with refusing to oboy military orders." Here, indeed, is a. sadly degeuerato namesake of the immortal "Samivel." The original Sam was an ardent exponent of the art of fisticuffs. When Mr. Winkle disappeared, did not Mr. Pickwick instruct Sam: "If ho attempts to run away from you, knock him down, or lock him up. You huvo my full authority, Sam." But Sam' was doubtful about the knocking down, and as he departed, opened *ho door again, and anxiously asked, "It's reg'larly understood about the knockiu' down, is it, sir?" and, reassured, ho went off as happy as a king. In thefamous encounter with tho minions of Mayor Nupkins, was it not Sam who promptly knocked down the redoubtable Mr. Grummer?' No,' a Sam Woller as a "conscientious objector" is almost unbelievable. Stray Leaves, Moro thau one well-known English author has, sinco the war began, published his hooks first in America, an English edition appearing much" later. AV. 'J. Ivocko's "Wonderful Year," Tor instance, first saw print in New York, and now I read that Joseph Conrad's new story, "The Shadow Lino," j'r to be published next month in the same city. Tho title has, I read, "reference to the vague boundary between youth and maturity, and tho story deals with the events connected with tho crossinc of that line by tho leading character.'' Conrad is, I am afraid, too psychological ovor to be popular with the "big public," but he has a largo and everwidening circle of faithful admirers on both sides of tho Atlantic.

Lan Hay (lan Hay Beitis.l, whoso novels, "A. Man's. Man," "Pip," ."The Safety Match," and "A Knight Upon AYheols," are so popular, and who lias made a now and oven greater reputation as a military writer . (with hli. "First Hundred Thousand"), is .now, I road, travelling in America as an official lecturer for the British • .Government. In a. new book, "Getting Together," which has recently appeared in New York, ho endeavours to explain to American, readers some oE the matters in tho war which hare aroused at-

tention nr resentment in tho United States.

Two biographies of Swinburne, ace due very shortly, olio by Mr. Edmund Gosse, to be published by MacmOlans, the other (which, is to come from Smith Elders'), by Mr. Egmont Hako and Mr. Comptou Ricketl, who recently gave us a big book on Swinburne's almost life-long friend, the late Theodore. Watts Dunton.

English papers report tho death of John Collins Francis, for so many years editor of "Notes and Queries," that most invaluable periodical, and publisher of "The Athenaeum." George Moore, whose "Book Korith" made a mild sensation last year, contemplates an American tour,-where ho may, it is said, be tempted on to the lecturing platform. The author of "A. Mummer's Wife" aud that remarkable novel "Esther Waters" must be getting an old man now. You can piece together his autobiography by reading his "Confessions of a Young Man," "Memoirs of My Dead Life," and tho throe volumes of that remarkable series "Hail and Farewell." Moore has written much brilliant stuff, and it is a pity that he has so often wantonly offended against good taste by a deliberate insistence upon the erotic and unwholesome.

The Hun we know, alas, all too well, and those who know their "Gulliver's Travels" will remember Swift's dreadful creations, the Yahoos. Kipling, so I notice, in bis "Sea Warfare," coins a now and aptly expressive term for the unspeakably beastly German of to-day. He christens hiui the "Yahun."

It is understood that tho late Jack London left the manuscript of several unpublished stories behind him, and that these will bo published by Mills and Boon, his English publishers, in due course.

Lovers of good modern poetry should keep nn eye on that excellent series, "The Little Books of Georgian Verse," published by ono of the younger publishers, Mr. Erskino Macdonald, in shilling paper-backed volumes. An English (reviewer specially commendß "White Roads," by R. D. Inco, and quoted the following stanzas: — "Whither goes the music when the player ceases ? Unto what hidden glade By jealous willows made What heaven of.April 6ki«s To which each note doth rise Lighter than aDy wind that sings and flies? ■ Whither goes the music when tho player ceases? His finger has quitted thostrings, But still it sails and it sings; Into far fields where children stray, Deep dream-meadows of heavenly play On a frail lost wind is it borne away?" Why is it, I wonder, that so many novels are being published nowadays the titles of the American editions of which aro fcompletely different from those of tho English editions. As two' recent examples of this sort of thing, it may bo noted that tho volume of short stories of Jerome K. Jerome, published in England under the titlo of "Malvina of Brittany and Other Stories," appears in an American edition as "The Street of tho Blank Wall," and Harold Bindloss's capita' story of love and adventure in Central America, "His Ono Talent." is published in New York as ,r ßrandou of tho Engineers."

Somo of tho chapters are prefaced by verso of greatly varying merit. As an. example of how nearly approaching more doggerel tho author can go, tho untitled vorses preceding "The Auxiliaries" would be hard to heat. On the other hand, tho book closes with somo verso headed "Tho Neutral," versos which have I should say, been read with a certain peculiar interest at tho WJiito House, and which read as follows: —

Brothers, how shall it fare with me Whon.tbo.Var is laid aside, If-it bo. proven,that ,I-.am ly>:'\ ",., ; " ; .li'oi' whom a world has died? If it bn proven that all my good And tho grcator good I will ronko Woro purchased mo by a multitude Who suffered for my sale? That '[ was delivered by mere mankind . Vowed to ono - sacrifice, And now, as I hold them, "battle-blind, But dying with opened eyes? That thoy did not ask mo to draw tho 6Word Whou thoy stood to ondiuo their lot, That thoy only looked to mo for'a. word, And I answered .1 knew them not? If it he fpund, when tie battle clears Their death has sot mo free. Then how shall I livo with mysrlT through tho years Which, they havo brought for mo? Brethren, how must it faro with mo, Or. how am I justified. If it bo proven that I am he For whom mankind has died; If it bo proven that I am ho W'ho being questioned denied? The book forms a. volume of Macuiillan's Dominions edition of Mr, Kipling's works. (Price 3s. Gd.) A complete translation of Tchekov's famous short 6tories has been made by that well-practised translator of .Russian fiction, Mrs. Garnett. Tho series will includo sevon volumes, published by Chatho- and Windus, at the moderate price of two shirtings. Tcbekov has often been compared with Do Maupassant, but ho is loss cynical, and deals with less "risky" subjects than does.tho great Frenchman. Macuiillans announce a now book which slionld bo specially interesting to Australians and New Zealanders. This is "Tho Now Pacific: British Policy and German Aira«." by C. Brunsdon Fletcher. Mr. Hughes, Prime Minister of Australia, contrfTJutes an introduction. Apropos to tho decided ascendancy which. British airmen have recently established ovor their Hun rivals, a correspondent of "Tho Times" draws attention to Gray's prophetic lines, originally written in Latin, of which the j following, is an TsngHs)i version: — J t England f .that long has ridden tho tea. I Tamed the wild waves and ruled the

>' . wavo,. • ■ ■■■ ;■;. Shall .grasiv the sceptro of the air, And win her ancient triumphs there lirapross of all flio winds that rave

Lovors of tho best in poetry should note the appoaranco of a collected edition in one volume, o£ the often very beautiful verse of William H. Davios, once called the "tramp poot." Anothor new book of -jKi.etry which is a. lons way above the average is "The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Orosland." Mr. Crosland became famous—or notorious? —by the publication of that forocious satire "The TJnsneakable Scofc, ,T . but by an inner circle of admirers lio has long been recognised as a truo poet, whose verso is characterised by an originality, strength, and grace all its own. A few months ago Mr. Crosland published some very remarkable war poems. Signed simply "X.." these poems, especially thy one entitled "For RiffhtooiiKiiesß Sake," attracted widespread attention.