BOOKS AND BOOKMEN

Evening Star, Issue 22146, 28 September 1935, Page 24

BOOKS AND BOOKMEN

VERSES THE MIGHTY MOTHER (FOR A.E.) Now, presently, I am to die: I shall die upon your breast: ( There, in happiness, to lie— In such plenitude of rest— Every harm , Will pass pie by. In your arm, And on your breast: v And, with but the smallest sigh, I shall get me whence I came, Shall not die to death, but be Born into it, peacefully: Fear can only be a name There, where nothing may alarm One who sinks into his rest On your breast, and in your arm. --James Stephens, in the * Observer. THE LYRE BIRD'S SONG In the hidden, lone recesses. Where the soft -sea-wind carresses All the wild; ~ Near a crystal; waterfall,. There I heard the lyre bird s call Macic notes, they floated, ringing iS the glen like gleemen singing To the sun; , -. . , . . Heard elusiv© bell‘ j)irus singing Bells of beauty—limpid bursts of song— In- the woodland nigh to Gernngong. And ! saw the winding river, _ Where green' rushes sway and quiver, Flashing flame and gold; And the cobalt sea unrolled Swept out to meet the sky, • Great doud armadas sailing by! Idly was the water falling, Where the wonder bird was 'calling, And that music, rich and rare— Faerv fluting on the air; . breath of springtide bringing Blossom time and flowers upsprmging Filled my soul with ecstasy; All the world it seemed to me, Heard that glorious melody. Soothing, haunting, thrilling, strong, Sang that feathered minstrel long Tn the hush near Gorringoug Notes enchanted, lyrics rare,. ' Holding captive .earth and air* In a cavalcade of song! _ Walter D. White, in ‘ Sydney Morning Herald.’ A WORDSWORTH MUSEUM At Grasmere, a little village on the shore of Lake Grasmere, in Westmorland wliGr© Wordsworth lived for many yearL a Wordsworth museum was opened on August 1 by the Poet Laureate, Mr John Masefield. Hus museum was formerly the barn attached to the cottage of Molly Fisher, who was the servant of the Wordsworths when they lived at Dove Cottage nearby. “ The barn now houses one of the most remarkable collections of poetic manuscripts known,” writes a special correspondent of the * Manchester Guardian.’ “In the upper room there are four show cases, not large in extent, but they contain, among other things, the complete, manuscripts of ‘The Prelude’ and all Dorothy Wordsworth’s manuscript journals. The wonderful collection of which these are a part was the care and the occupation of the late Gordon Wordsworth, last surviving grandchild of the poet. During the last 30 or 40 years of his life at the house at Stepping Stones, familair to many literary" visitors, he was putting into order immense masses of papers intimately related to the lives of his grandparents,' Dorothy Wordsworth, and their friends., It was from this treasury that Professor Ernest De Selincourt prepared his recent edition of ‘ The Prelude,' working upon the immense and almost illegible manuscripts which will now be visible to ail visitors. Mr Gordon Wordsworth had intended that on his death the collection should in some suitable way be made available fo the public, but when the trustees of Dove Cottage found themselves able •to transform the barn of Syke Side into a . museum for the purpose he changed his plans and worked with Professor De Selincourt to complete the proposal immediately. Unhappily his illness and death prevented his participation in the event, but ;the museum as it now appears is according to his wish, and has been enriched by gifts from other benefactors/’ ■ ■ Two of the four show cases are devoted solely to Wordsworth. The contents include the erased, corrected, and difficult manuscripts which , finally composed ‘ The Prelude.’ Here also is Wordsworth’s first note book,' of 1794, containing that poem to Mary which Professor De Selincourt believes proves her to have been his first love and so much reduces the. force of the story of the affair with Annette. There are five or six versions of ‘ Peter Bell,’ and a curious evidence of the poet’s economy in the 'shape of a proof copy of Coleridge’s ‘Poems on Various Occasions,’ which Wordsworth used as a note book. Dorothy’s journals are here, and the copy Sarah Hutchinson made of the ‘ Recollections of a Tour in Scotland.’ arid pages of the tour in her own hand, which shows 'marked similarity to that of William, except that, as Professor De Selincourt says, Dorothy is always legible and could write well when she wished. In her hand, hut not her best, there is her reply to the,'aunt who scolded her for wandering ; about the country in a rough, mannish way. A first edition of Df Johnson’s translation of Lobo’s ‘ Voyage to Abyssinia ’ fetched £305 at a London sale. He published this work in his twenties, when ho was looking for employment in Birmingham.

A LITERARY CORNER

THE HOVEL IR RUSSIA LITERATURE ESCAPES FROM POLITICAL CONTROL What is Russia doing? It is a question we shall be asking for many years to come.’ To have made, and kept, the whole world curious about herself is good evidence that Russia is a country where creation is active. We feel the heat of it, however far removed we are from her geographically —a generative heat which can only alarm those, who have reason to fear what, beneath their own soul, may be warmed into lire by it (writes Horace Thorogood, in ‘John o’ London’s Weekly ’). . Of what literary Russia is. doing we are now admirably informed in ‘ Soviet Russian Literature,’ by Mr Gleb Struve, lecturer in that subject at the School of Slavonic Studies. This hook may be regarded as a sequel to Prince Mirsky’s ‘ History of Russian Literature,’ which stopped at 1924, when the effort to create an exclusively proletarian literature was still in progress. Since then, we learn, political control has considerably relaxed. A literary “ Magna Charta ” officially promulgated in 1925 recognised the futility of attempting to impose a class bias on literature, and although, four years later, a new political control was instituted, all writers being pressed into service of the Five, Years Plan, that phase has passed. Comparative freedom is now ■ restored within the limits of “ Socialist Realism a vague term invented by Stalin involving, apparently, no more than a mild obligation to give a Socialist "colour to all writing. • The Soviet Government seems. to have learnt two valuable lessons. First, that political propagandist novels are a “flop”; their attempt to turn all fiction into a glorification of the Plan resulted in such weird works as Bataev’s ‘ Forward, Oh Time!’ the subject of which was how a Soviet factory beat the world record for mixing concrete! Second, that the influence of Tolstoy, Dostoievsky, and .other preRevolution classics cannot be eradicated by order. , No sooner was proletarian literature out of its infancy than it trended fast towards the old Russian masters, and Gorki encouraged the movement. Fadeyev, author of The Rout and ‘The Last of the Udegeyans, takes Tolstoy for his master. Sholokhov s * And Quiet Flows the Don is Tolstoyan. Fedin, who wrote the first big Soviet novel, ‘ Cities and . Years, reverted to traditional Russian methods in his later ‘Brothers/ Historical novels, like Alexey Tolstoy’s enormous ‘Peter the First,’ are fashionabQf foreign influences, the most powerful are John Dos Passes, Andre Gide, Proust, and Joyce. The German vogue of the ‘Little Man’ novel is represented by Zoshchenko’s stones, written in the jargon of the semi-educated man-in-the-street. . Zamytm s We a Wellsian Utopia novel banned in Russia. shows a curious resemblance to Algous Huxley’s ‘ Brave New World * Mr Struve gives an account or tne principal novelists and summarises their chief works. His lucidity and impartiality inspire confidence, and his wide culture makes him a perfect interpreter of Russian ideas to English understanding. We are, of course,.at his mercy, but we get the feeling that what he says is so. CLASSIFYING NOVELS Classifying novels by the intentions of the authors, Mr Sean O’Faolmn says in the ‘ Spectator ’, “ There is ! tbe writer who intends to say something that is worth saying as finely as it can be said —he is moving towards a work of high art. There is the writer who intends to say something that is, in effect—whatever ho may think—not worth saying, as finely as it can be said. . . . Very often he is the big best seller. “ Thirdly, there is the man who intends to say something that he knows perfectly well is not worth saying—but who intends to say it as finely as it can be said. He is the small best seller. . . . Lastly, there is the man who sets out to say something that he knows isn’t worth saying in a manner that he knows is not going to be the best manner. He gives us the thriller, the love story, the slighty witty novel, the adventure story, the wildTwest yarn, and whatever else one leaves behind in the train.”

JUBILEE AND UTERARY EFFORTS It has been said that the Royal Silver Jubilee was responsible for an unusual spate of literary efforts (says a Home paper). Nowhere has the occasion been marked by more sensational prose, however, than in the school essay books. From a well-known Glasgow elementary school I take from the book of a girl pupil the following typical gem, which certainly merits the tribute of publication:—‘ The Kings Jubilee,” declared the essayist, .was helled on the 6th May. We were given a meddle and the B.E. Cinema, I pint it on my dress. It was to selebraight George on his thrown. The classes beheaded by the flute band marched to the Cinema. We were in the pictures for two hours and saw five pictures and a bag of sweets coming out the door. We got our dinner which was a mug, a bottle of limnenade and a bag of cakes. On the mug was a picture of their magestices. We drank our limnenade and cakes. Then we sang hip-hip-hurry—God Save the King.” Messrs Macmillan are publishing a volume by volume pocket edition of Shakespeare —the ‘ Eversley Shakespeare ’—bound in scarlet cloth. Each volume has an introduction and notes. The general editor is Mr Guy Boas, and the text is that of the Cambridge Shakespeare.

HEW BOOKS ‘POLYCARP'S PROGRESS’ Those people who have read that diverting tale, ‘ Mr Finchley Discovers His England,-’ will be delighted to know that Victor Canning has written another novel, equally interesting and amusing. It’s title is ‘Polycarp’s. Progress,’ and, like its predecessor, its atmosphere is that of the spirit of adventure. And again the English countryside is the scene of a young man’s exploits. John Polycarp Jarvis was following a humdrum career in a London office, with no prospects ahead of him. Possessed of imagination, he saw the grey and drab years stretching ahead of him in an endless procession, and his days filled with one routine job after another. When Polycarp reached the age of 21 he took a day off to celebrate the event, determining to plead sickness the next day. ’Unfortunately, he met the daughter of the manager of his firm, whom he knew, and persuaded her to go on an expedition with him. This ended in disaster for Polycarp, as the truth came out, and his service with the firm was concluded abruptly by the enraged manager, who was suffering from an erratic liver that was not functioning very well that day. Polycarp’s career from then on was lively and varied. His first job was - with a motor company, and he drove Red Dragons with more ®r less success. Tiring of that he took-to the air as the proprietor of the New Age Flying Company, his partner being a very unorthodox person whom he had casually met in a village inn. When this adventure, which was more or less profitable, ended, Polycarp became an itinerant “quack,” taking a stand at one village fair after another. There is no need to detail Polycarp’s activities. It is sufficient to say that they are as amusing as they are numerous. And all through the book there are delightful pictures of the English countryside with quaint characters or many ages and types. ‘ Poljnarp s Progress ’ which comes from Hodder and Stoughton, is a novel that can be recommended without reserve. AH AMUSING TRIFLE John Glyder is an English author who is rapidly making his name as a writer of that very light type of comedy which is generally recognised as ideal holiday reading.” In his latest. novel, > Half Hose,’ he has succeeded in concocting enough amusing situations to keep the comedy-loving reader a-chuck-ling from first chapter to last. He relates the adventures of a rising young novelist, Peter Hill, who, at the annual dinner of the Scribblers’ Club, meets and falls in love with Diana Featherstone. His affair progresses well until the engagement is announced. After this Diana, apparently in the belief that she is now entitled to some share in shaping young Mr Hill’s destiny, expresses strong disapproval of his new book, and urges him to write something with a wider appeal—something more genuinely romantic. Eager to fall in with her wishes, Peter takes a bungalow in the country. It is while in the throes of the “ masterpiece ” that ho becomes involved in ludicrous real-life complications. that have. a strange connection with the subject matter of his- former and despised book. He then realises that this work was not nearly so amusing as he had once thought it. In a bright style ‘ Half Hose’ frolicks along to a happy conclusion. Messrs Herbert Jenkins are the publishers. • THE SPY PARAMOUNT • ‘ The Spy Paramount ’ (Hodder and Stoughton) is by Mr E. Phillips Oppenheim. This author is like the brook—he goes on for ever. His output of novels is extraordinary, yet he never misses the mark. Every story from his prolific pen is entertaining afid exciting, and by reading his stories many hardworked people find recreation. The Riviera is a happy hunting ground for Mr Oppenheim. Among the cosmopolitan throng there he picks out certain types—the rich and the poor, the young and the old, the crook and the honest man. He brings them into contact, and an excellent story is in the making. When one reads Mr Oppenheim’s books he is transported to the halls of luxury, and he enjoys by proxy rich food, Choice wines, and the best brands of cigars. These are all accessories, of course, and as in ‘ The Spy Paramount ’ they add to the appreciation of the story. This book deals with international intrigues and secret service agents, and its atmosphere is convincing. •THE MOUTHPIECE' In these days of short memories the works of most of our modern writers aro soon neglected and forgotten. It is not the case with Edgar Wallace. His books continue to entertain. He was as successful as a playwright as he was as a maker of mystery novels. One play of his that had particular success was ‘ The Mouthpiece.’ This has now been told as a novel by Robert Curtis. The work has been exceedingly well done, for the real Wallace atmosphere has been retained. This is a plan that might be carried out extensively. There must be thousands df plays by other authors, lying neglected, that would make excellent novels. The work, as in this case, would have to be skilfully done, but it does seem to provide real opportunities. ‘ The Mouthpiece ’ is a decidedly interesting story. The publishers aro Hutchinson and Co, Our copy comes from Whitcombe and Tombs Ltd. A pair of stockings that belonged to Robert Burns, and a letter he wrote to a friend expressing delight at a “ rise ” in salary, have been sold in London for £155. They will go to the Butns Museum, at Alloway, near Ayr.

TWO MYSTERY STORIES George Goodcliild needs no introduction for he is the author of numerous mystery stories that have been widely read. He is the creator of Inspector M'Lean, one of the ablest detectives in fiction. He and Sergeant Brook have appeared in several of Mr Goodchild’s books. These two are a great contrast in temperament, but do great work in double harness. M‘Lean is a man of intuition with a quick brain, while the sergeant’s powers are a combination of naive shrewdness allied to a capacity for continuous and painstaking work. In ‘ M‘Lean Knows Best ’ readers of mystery stories will find one of the best of this type of fiction. The publishers are Ward, Lock, and Co. Faced with the mystery of how a wealthy woman, Mrs Algernon Strachey, was strangled in the presence of six other persons, Chief-inspector Barton, with the assistance of the amateur crime psychologist, Sir Richard Herrivel Bart., set out to solve a problem winch was clouded in mystery. Mrs Strachey was a firm believer in spiritualism and Raymond L’Estrange, the famous trance medium, was holding a seance at Mrs Strachey’s house in Upper Brook street. It was impossible for ahyone to leave the room without detection, and marks on Mrs Strachey s throat proved conclusively that she was strangled. 'The L’Estrange Case’ by John Bentley, is a thrilling and baffling story It was very near to being the crime perfect, and only the unique methods of deduction, which Sir Richard Herrivel was noted for, solved the problem. Our copy came from Messrs Whitcombe and Tombs. The publishers are Eldon Press Ltd., London, MAGAZINES

A newcomer to the magazine world is ‘Good Humour,’ which contains selections from the works of famous humorous writers such as P. G. Wodehouse, ( Stephen Leacock, etc., and stories of a light nature by J. B. Priestley and Denis Mackail. There is also an illustrated section contributed to by H. M. Bateman and Heath Robinson. _ Theie is a laugh on every page, and it is just the prescription to chase dull care away., ■ » A BOOK FOR BOYS Hero is a book that takes the reader back to the days of the American Civil War. ‘ Blockade is its title and the author is Nelson Hayes, it contains some .excellent woodcuts, which are also the work of the author. This is a stirring tafe of adventure on the high seas. Thehero, is a boy of English parentage, born in the West Indies, with the love of adventure in his veins, to whom the lure of blockade running, in spite of havdships and dangers, proves irresistible. The hero, as one would hope, carves his way to fortune and wins the girl of his heart. It is an excellent story, and one which the normal youth will find enthralling. The publishers are Lovat, Dickson Limited. NOTES Mr Harcourt Williams’s book, . announced by Putuciiii, will b© ©n titled •Four Years at the sld Vie.’ Additions to Duckworth’s ‘ Great Lives ’ series will include Wordsworth, by Peter Burra ; De Quincey, by Malcolm Elwin; Livingstone, by D. C. Somervell; and Keir Hardie, by Hamilton Fyfe. ' Miss Lilias Rider Haggard, who has edited ‘I Walked by Night,/ is the daughter of the author of ‘ King Solomon’s Mines ’ and all those other popular romances of Africa. Miss Rider Haggard’s book deals with the life of a famous Norfolk poacher. An iron fiddle that bears the inscription, “ John Banyan, Helstow,” has been bought in London and presented to the museum of the Bunyan Meeting House, Bedford. It is made out qf thin iron plates and is believed to have been made as well as owned by Bunyan. Mrs Basil De Selincourt, who died last month, was the .author of some 20 novels under her maiden name of Anne Douglas .Sedgwick. The best-known were probably ‘ Tante ’ and * The. Little French Girl.’ She was born in tbe United States, and for five years studied painting in Paris. ‘ The Nature of the Physical World,’ in which Sir Arthur Eddington discusses the philosophical implications of the theory of relativity and the quantum theory, is ■ one of the new batch of modern volumes to be added to j Everyman’s Library.’ A new novel by Mr Warwick Deeping is coming, from Messrs Cassell. This is called ‘Sackcloth Into Silk,’ and is the tale of a. boy of poor origin who became a rich and famous dramatist, possessing “ everything he could wish for except—love.” Mrs. Gertrude Atherton, who has written many novels of contemporary American life and a few about American history, has decided to go far into the past and to another country by making the life of the poet, Horace; the subject of her next novel. Signor Luigi Pirandello, winner last year of the Nobel Prize for literature, arrived at New York recently for his second visit, to America. The first was in 1923. On his return to Italy, he said, he expects to write a book on “ the American soul.” ' In the meantime he is considering the adaptability of some of his plays for screen treatment. When the biographers of the next century wish to writ© the lives of the leaders of to-day they will find. comparatively little material from which to weave their stories, because of the dearth of letters and diaries and the loss of important conversations over the telephone wires, writes Mr Hector Bolitho, in the ‘ Spectator.’ Our diplomats fly from country to country in a few hours, and the writing of letters is made less and less necessary. There are no great files of papers to record the affairs of our time as there were for a great occasion such as the Congress of Berlin in 1878.