THE BOOKMAN

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 229, 16 December 1927, Page 14

THE BOOKMAN

Reviewsg/tH & Notesg^^

SYLVIA AND JANE. (Written for The Son.] IT WOULD BE a pleasing fantasy to defy the dimensions of time and space, and to assemble in one room all those young women whose books have set the town by the ears, since the days when My Lady sent forth her maid to obtain from the library the latest work of that brilliant young writer, Jane Austen. These young ladies should all meet on the morrow of their first publishing day. and there should be no foil to their brilliance, no background of bored or disappointed or middle-aged or cynical wits of yesteryear whose metier the world has outgrown. Invitations to such a party would certainly be issued to Miss Margaret Kennedy and Miss Sylvia Warner, two of the young women whose writings emanate from a dayspring of observation and of humour.

The critics have coupled the name of Margaret Kennedy with that of Jane Austen, and therein they seem to me to go astray. "The Constant Nymph” is a triumph of characterisation, not of style. If anyone requires proof of this, let him assist at a performance of the stage version of Miss Kennedy’s story. It was not Miss Edna Best's acting alone which made Tessa one of the most vivid and

poignant characters seen on the English stage for a long while. Miss Margaret Kennedy cared far more for her characters than for her delineation of them. “The Constant Nymph" is written in a style fretfiy tinctured with the essence of journalese. It is a medium well suited to the atmosphere of knock about intellectualism in which the characters have their being; but it is not excellent English. Margaret Kennedy ■wrote “Linden Ladies” in order to buy herself a hunting hack, and she wrote “The Constant Nymph” because of the success of “Linden Ladies It is improbable that she gave much thought to the style of either book. When we turn from “The Constant Nymph” to “Lolly Willowes” we are aware of a far closer kinship with Jane Austen. In place cf the slapdash cosmopolitanism of the Sangers we have the exquisitely English surroundings of the Willowes fam ily and encounter a spirit far more nearly akin to that of Jane Austen. “Lolly Willowes" is something more than a clever and penetrating study of English spinsterhood. What that something more is it would be very difficult to define. The bald statement on the paper jacket that Lolly Willowes becomes a witch is analogous to the bald statement that Charles the Second died. What is interesting about that monarch is hiß own state raent that he was an unconscionable time a-dying. Lolly Willowes was an unconscionable time becoming a witch. In fact, the process began with her birth. Miss Sylvia Warner makes her statement for her, and the minute stages by which she is led on to her final pact with Satan are indicated with a delicacy and observation, an analytical power which remind one of Jane Austen, as does also her nice choice of words.

I do not know whether it would be possible to discover a misrelated participle in “Pride and Prejudice” such as I discovered in “Lolly Willowes,” nor would Miss Austen write of “the best room of the two”: but these minor lapses apart, “Lolly Willowes” is written in a style that itself renders reading a pleasure. It Is well that this should be so in the case of a book with such an elusive theme. Laura Willowes is the daughter of a Somersetshire brewer, who is also something of a squire. On the death of her father she joins the household of her brother Henry as a sort of unofficial help to her sister-in-law. She is a spinster of private means, and were it not for the statement on the paper jacket, we might be prepared for her story to take any turn. When the war comes we might be reconciled to something in the vein of Rose Macaulay, or Pett Ridge, or S. P. B. Mals; but the war finds her and leaves her methodically wrapping up parcels, and she is altered in no essential, save that she is four years older. It Is not till after 1920 that. In obedience to those mysterious promptings, of which we have had word In the course of the narrative, she breaks away from the associations of nearly a quarter of a century, the trivial round of life at Apsley Terrace and at respectable seaside resorts, and goes to live by herself in a little Buckinghamshire village called Great Mop. “Lolly Willowes” is a baffling book, and is none the less delightful for this reason. The picture of her brother Henry’s mdnage, from which Laura finally breaks free, is 30 deftly drawn that we warm our hands at its comfort and respectability, even while we applaud the decision of Lolly Willowes to make a bid for some kind of life of her own. The sensa tion of escaping from London into the Chilterns, once experienced, will never be forgot: and we escape with Miss Willowes in spirit when, in the face of her brother’s protestations, she takes up her abode as a parlour boarder in the village of Great Mop. “Lolly Willowes" will disappoint the reader in search of a plot: Satan, when she finally encounters him, is as inconclusive and enigmatic as the beech woods he inhabits: but it is »ot what we find at, tne end o£ "Lolly

Willowes” that lends the book itß value —it is what we encounter by the way. C. R. ALLEN. Wellington. BOOKS REVIEWED FOR CHRISTOPHER ROBIN /CHRISTOPHER ROBIN has aged a couple of years since he and his ursine pal Winnie the Pooh wandered into our hearts. He is now six and to mark the occasion Mr. A. A. Milne and Mr. E. H. Shepard have again “harmonised” with verse and sketch, as only they can harmonise, producing a successor-volume in the true line of descent from “When We Were Very Young.” The book is full of the very wonderful exploits of Christopher Robin, and Winnie the Pooh, now rather inclined to embonpoint drops in for a chat occasionally. There are blithe things here that lend themselves to quoting as readily as “Bold Sir Brian” or the king who liked butter with his bread, but as space is almost as precious (and editors almost as adamantine) as solitaire diamonds, let us quote but one poem: “A Thought,” in four lines, which contains a wealth of melancholy for those who have rejoiced in the possession of an elder brother: If 1 were John and John were Me Then he’d be six and I’d he three. If John were Me and I were John I shouldn't have these trousers on. All that we can say of these verses “to and for, by, with and from Christopher Robin,” is that we don't begrudge Mr. Milne his anticipated two hundred thousand sales and trust that before “Now We are Six” reaches that high-water mark we shall have “Soon We’ll Be Eight.” And in expressing that pious wish we include also Mr. Peter Pan Shepard who is now as inseparable from Mr. Milne as is Mr. Crosse from Mr. Blackwell, or Mr. Day from Mr. Martin. "Now We are Six.” Methuen and Co., Ltd., London. Our copy from the publishers.

Home-Grown. Another contribution from the pen of the well-known New Zealand writer, Johannes C. Andersen. Mr Andersen’s latest work contains 24 tales Writing in an imaginative mood he carries us from Europe’s fjord-land to Victoria Square, Christchurch, New Zealand. Each of the stories has its own charm, but in our opinion “The Nymph of the Alder” is the best. This pleasant fantasy takes ns back to the early history of Victoria Square and gives us visions of the future. The book will make an acceptable gift to many readers this Christmas. “New Zealand Tales.” Johannes C. Andersen. Ferguson and Osborn, Ltd., Wellington. Our copy from the publishers. Jeremy Again. Those who have been delighted by Mr Hugh Walpole’s studies in the growth of a boy, “Jeremy,” “Jeremy and Hamlet,” and “The Golden Scarecrow,” will be glad to meet Jeremy Cole again, now at Crale. Just lifted to the dignity and freedom of a shared study, he is moving towards leadership in Leeson’s House and then in the school. The story chronicles one term only, the winter term; and its chief events are those of the football field, where Jeremy finds his Rugby affinity in Stevens and plays for the school, the class-room, where he comes

under the strong influence of Mr Parlow, and the great Cole-Staire quarrel. The natural partisanship of boys divides the House into factions behind Jeremy and Staire, born opposites, but rather against than by Jeremy’s will; and Jeremy learns In the trouble which follows the lesson of fortitude and self-control in the face of injustice. Jeremy is a capital hero, because he is a sound and solid boy, not sentimentalised or idealised as are the impossible ceatures who make the majority of school stories ridiculous. One wonders whether Mr Walpole’s "Jeremy” stories have yet found the public they deserve. He has done in them a very difficult thing and done It very well, so well that it is much to be hoped he will do it again and let us see Jeremy in his final development at Crale. “Jeremy at Crale.” Hugh Walpole. Cassell. Our copy from Whitcombe and Tombs, Ltd.

Attic Salt Anyone who has been within close range of a Court of Law will find- delight in Mr. A. P. Herbert’s judgments delivered at a very High Court in collaboration with Mr. Justice “Punch.” Mr. Herbert is a merchant in Attic Salt and his supply is never exhausted. For delirious nonsense commend us to the case of Carrot and Co. v. the Canary Guano Association, in which the masterly cross-examination by Sir Ethelred Rutt would cause even a professional mourner furiously to cackle. Important rulings are delivered in Rex v. Garvin, and Others, concerning the publication of Sunday newspapers, and in Rex v. Haddock: Is a golfer a gentleman? Tinribb, Rumble and Others v. the King and Queen is a dispute over a Fish Royal. Whales and sturgeons washed upon the beaches of England are under an enactment of Edward 11., the property of the Crown, the head belonging to the King and the tail to the Queen. This particular whale, thanks to a little departmental hesitancy at the Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries, was indeed a Fish Royal by the time the action was brought by “the late inhabitants of Pudding Magna.” With amusing impudence, “A.P.H.” has approached the Lord Chief Justice of England for a foreword, and Lord Hewart supplies a very cordial introduction. There is no humorous writer in England to-day producing more refreshing or wittier nonsense than Mr. Herbert and the book should have an excellent sale. “Misleading Cases in the Common Law.” Reported by A. P. Herbert. Methuen and Co., Ltd.. 36, Essex St., London, W.C. Our copy from the publishers. A Lucas Anthology “Versatenacity” is the cable address of Mr. E. V. Lucas who continues to produce book after book to add to that envy-producing list, “by the same author,” that appears in each of his volumes. Mr. Lucas must be one of the hardest-working men of letters in England, but in his spare time he rests; and compiles anthologies. “The Open Road” is his, and is one of the finest pocket-companions for a day in the open that a man could wish for. Now we have “The Joy of Life,” compiled chiefly from the works of living poets. We’re not going to say that Mr. Lucas has picked one-twentieth of the poems that we would have chosen for inclusion. But who is ever in complete agreement with an anthologist? The selection is an agreeable one for all that and the arrangement of the book has much to commend it. It is divided into sections —“England,” “The Changing Year,” “Travel,” “Sport” and so on, and many old friends make song for our pleasure—Hilaire Belloc (“Do you remember an Inn, Miranda?”), James Eli-oy Flecker, Christopher Morlev, Siegfried Sassoon, Joyce Kilmer, Walter de la Mare, Rose Fyleman and Sheila Kaye-Smith. The Poet Laureate is also represented. The format is very convenient and the edition would justify the publishers’ claiming that it is designed for the pocket—in tw-o senses of the phrase. “The Joy of Life.” An Anthology. Methuen and Co., Ltd., London. Our copy from the publishers. “Evoe” Mr. E. V. Knox (“Evoe” of “Punch”) has given us many books which perpetuate the humour which otherwise would be buried in “Punch” annuals. “Awful Occasions” will not cause his reputation as a writer of airy trifles to suffer. His Cross-Word Party in “Don’t You Know?”; a fantastic skit on the popular intelligence tests of to-day is excellent, “Why I Cannot Write a Play,” too, is amusing. A pleasing little gift book. 'tAwful Occasions.” Methuen and Co., Ltd., London. Our copy from the publishers. A Wireless Mystery

A gang of high-grade “crooks,” seeking to obtain the plans of a valuable wireless invention, murder a man whom they have mistaken for the inventor—a Continental monk —and leave his body in an embrasure of Waterloo Bridge to startle a constable. Good detective work follows, leading to the clearing up of the mystery and the bursting-tip of the gang. It is an ingenious mystery and the solution will not be discovered before the last chapter. Also, the tale Is well told. “The Corpse on the Bridge,” by Charles Barry; Methuen and Co., London. Our copy direct from the publishers. Something Chinese A meek little Chinese turns bandit, and eventually becomes a general in a great army. But So Wing had first met a little Chinese blossom, Q’Uo Ssu. The tale is largely woven around her, and So Wing, “for her sweet sake,” lays down his life—even though she has become the spouse of another. Quite a pleasant romance. “In a Tun-Nan Courtyard,” by Louise Jordan Miln; Hodder and Stoughton, London. Our copy from the publishers’ Australian representative. Surviving a Heritage To start life at the age of 17 with a bitter heritage and survive only by extraordinary strength of character was the experience of Herrick Lindris, left penniless and alone by the suicide of a smashed and disgraced company promotor and the default of a cowardly Government. How she won to independence and finally gained happiness and real love is told interestingly in “Bitter Heritage.” “Bitter Heritage,” by Margaret Fedler, Hodder and Stoughton. Our copy from the publishers’ Australian representative. Blackmail and Murder An intriguing story evolves from the marriage in Australia of an unknown doctor to a woman who faces the altar en secondes noces. Years later the doctor becomes famous in England, and his photograph, with that of his wife, is published in a London newspaper. Enter the “other woman,” who, knowing what the doctor’s wife does not know—that her first husband was not really “killed in France,” but is still alive—proceeds to levy blackmail. The blackmailer is murdered. By whom? The doctor and his wife suspect one another, and the doctor arranges that it will look like a case of suicide. But he overlooks one important point, which is seized upon by a newspaper reporter, and the crime of murder is apparent. The astonishing solution is that the murder has been perpetrated by the first husband of the doctor’s wife, who 1 has been the lover of the blackmailing

lady. This story, by the way, has been written around the play of the same name, which is said to have been hailed in London as a success, with Sir Gerald du Maurier as Dr. Marlay and Gladys Cooper as the blackmailer. ‘‘lnterference,” by Roland Pertwee; Cassel and Co., Ltd. Our copy from Messrs. Whitcombe and Tombs, Ltd., Auckland.