The Letters of Annabel Lee

Radio Record, Volume I, Issue 31, 17 February 1928, Page 6

The Letters of Annabel Lee

In heaven the only art of living, Is forgetting and forgiving, Mutual forgiveness of each vice, Such are the gates of Paradise. My Dear Elisabeth: ‘Thus sang Blake, simply and sweet~ly, in time long past, and we are as far off as ever from his gentle creed, But if we all grew too good, ’twould be butia dull world. Balzac’s opinion was that dissimulation adds to the charm of women, and doubtless many are of opinion that recrimination adds to the charm of the world. Talking of brawls, lately I saw a film version of Joseph Conrad’s "Romance." Full to the brim is it of primitive passion and piracy, deep blue sea rolling round an isle of mystery; whither quests Ivor Novello, in the guise of a Spanish captain who is at once mountebank, soldier and hero. Youth and beauty in distress he rescues from the Bold, Bad Man, skilfully depicted by Roy d’Arcy. Joseph Conrad’s beautiful story has been converted into thrilling melodrama that produced a series of shocks not at all resembling my suspense and delight when first I read that epical narrative: of the vision splendid depicted by the magical pen of the master. Of all the handsome protagonists of the screen, Ivor Novello carries the palm. Youthful and of a grace remarkable, with great gifts as an actor, and nothing of the ex-perience-searred touch that spoils: John Barrymore for the role of ardent Romeo, he has a nobility in the shaping of head and face for which one usually seeks in vain among the heroes of Hollywood. This week. that nice boy Richard Barthelmess is appearing in ‘The Patent Leather Kid," in which gripping screen play his admirable abilities find scope. Never again, perhaps, will he have so wonderful a chance as in "Broken. Blossoms," that realistic and heart-rending tale of Chinatown; but in this latest role he does very fine work, portraying how, in the terrible school-room of the Great War, slackness, brag and paltriness are purged away, giving place to qualities that go to make one of those men whom we remember, or should remember, with high gratitude through all the years that are left to us, Verily this year of our Lord is the Day of Youth, which shines with a great effulgence at home and abroad.

Cecil Beaton’s one-man show in London was an example of this, whither thronged modern man and maid in great number to admire its own contours, or those of its friends, depicted by this youthful and brilliant painter, photographer and sculptor. With the independence of his age and time Mr. Beaton refuses to be bothered with people unless he happens to like them.: How enviable, to be sure! Oh, would some power the giftie give us to take the same stand! Also with the perennial and fleeting charm of youth is Rex Whietler, lately making a great success in decoration of the new Refreshment Room in the Tate Gallery, Of an interest unique, brilliantly clever indeed is the painting he has achieved. Ruins are depicted in his decorative scheme, and prancing steeds; moonlit abbeys, antelopes, gazelles, and all the fun of the fair; while through the beauty and wonderment walk, and ride, and linger slender ladies with their cavaliers, wearing quaint garb of another decade. On every wall of this fascinating room is a painted sequence of whimsical and decorative fantasy; all this extraordinary vision and executive ability having been acquired in twenty-two short years, perhaps inherited from the misty past, or it may be just a plain gift from whatever gods there be. The Summer Sales are in full blast, and shop windows are bedecked and bedizened with truly terrible left-overs, cast-outs, the rejecteas of all. Extremely pitiable they appear, and dear at the price, however cheap. Here and there, if one has a sharp eye and a pound in the purse, a good garment may be snapped up. One such confronted me recently; a dainty-damsel-ish confection in silk of the shade beloved of middle-aged mediocrities who buy it because it matches their eyes. Fashioned with the skimpy "body" of the moment, billowy skirt vandyked at hem, over the shining surface of this Frock for a Debutante, as the placard has it, are little scattered nosegays of the forget-me-not species of horticulture, the whole creating an effect of a pink and blue shepherdess of Arcady. To many women the cult of blue has great appeal, and they will rejoice to know that turquoise is again high in favour. Chunks of it are

worn, in necklaces closely strung on _a thread of gold, almost as beautiful and dear to the heart as that first string of cheap Blue Beads we all wore when we ‘were very young, which, with its insecure thread and glazed and slippery surface, ensnared the light that never was on sea or land. Provocative to a degree is the latest and greatest whim of the mondaine for the snake of gold that twists and twines its sinuous length around her lovely throat. One such recently invited all eyes, worn with a garment of jade-green silk, this serpent of old Nile, emerald eyes bulging, encircling the neck of one of those white and gold women we hear about but very seldom see. Tawny of hair, with the enviable skin that combines creaminess of hue with perfect texture, from a_ shoulder dangled the latest conceit, a short string ef peridots linked with gold. . Such perfect finesse of toilette naturally scooped the honours of the evening, and besieging Mere Man and her serf, additionally enslaved by those low tones of hers, of a crystalline clearness. It seems that to the indispensable vanishing cream, -the stickfast hair lubrication, the paraded lipstick, is to be added a hair pencil that, wisely applied, will obliterate the greyness of stray locks apt to obtrude at inopportune moments, Beauty in these © days of grace is pursued with a breathlessness that should command success, the March of the Mannequins appearing a lucrative one, even in eonseryative England girls of beauty and breeding forsaking luxurious homes, and a life of leisure, for this uninspired calling, which apparently holds a lure for ye modern mayde, particularly if not gifted with that admirable heritage of brains so essential in the majority of vocations in the Great Scrimmage. Not quite fair perhaps that the leisured and affluent girl or woman should enter the ranks in competition with her strrggling, needy sister, hut this is 4 big question and many-sided. The charm of liberty is great and compelling; the knowledge that one carries one’s own weight sustains when the world lies in ashes; and the daily grind on occasion is salvation.-Your

ANNABEL

LEE