Merciless Spotlight On The Rackets In A Crazy World

Radio Record, Volume XII, Issue 28, 23 December 1938, Page 12

Merciless Spotlight On The Rackets In A Crazy World

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Frances

Gray

tears into ribbons the hum-

bug and vulgarity | of the cr crazy modern world. 7’B.U.N.C." hits hard and hits often.

HAD not heard of Frances Gray until-thank my stars I read her *B.ULN.C."’ Just how I fecl about her now I can besi express by saying that in my personal opinion the ‘‘Reeord’? is making a notable contribution to this season of good deeds by doing its part in briiging "BLUN.G.’’ before every man and woman nauseated by this age of chaos and fictitious values of humbug and vulgarity.

"B.ULN.C." (primarily) debunks bunk. The initials stand for British and United National Chemicals, an armaments factory specialising in poison-gas. The lives of the mixed buneh of characters are all, directly or indirectly, centred on "B.U.N.C." The story is a’ strange and provocative mixture of damnably clever and audacious humour, shatterins satire, and a fearless exposure of the armamenis racket. Its moral hits you between the eyes like a well-aimed brick; and you are absorbed in the most remarkable blend of fun and tragedy as yeu follow the novel's brilliant development. And when you have finished it, you remeinber everything from the hilarious iove-life of Sir Joshua Bradbrook, the armaments "king," and "Bngland’s Venus’; to the horror of the fire at the poison-gas factory, with its fearful carnage; to the cold-blooded murder of its trazie owner, Mrs. Lacy, and to the extraordinarily telling speech of the man wrongly accused of murder. This man, who all his life has dealt in a business spelling death to other peopie, utters from the dock the first words of wisdom ever to drop from him. He condemns his own armamenis, promises to eradicate his whole rotten racket, and to give his millions to the cause of peace. They find him guilty-but insane.... And, into the bargain, his words, which, if printed, would have stirred the world into a_ great erusade for the betterment of mankind, are crowded out of the newspapers for a far more vital piece of "news." "On the very day of the trial a most unfortunate circumstance occurred. Miss Dixie Ruthless had flown the Atlantic upside down"... Slashing Attacks

HERE is practically nothing worth smacking at that Frances Gray has overlooked in this allrevealing, exhilarating attack on the evils and the slosh of today. She is anti-war, anti-cant, antihypocrisy, anti the cheapness that is styled "modern publicity’ and glamour. ; She slashes at such institutions as Parliament and the Church where they deserve it, bombards State and public exploitation under the guise of politics, pokes fun at titled gossip-writers and the average film-mind, and at the same time, leaves nothing to the imagination in describing the hectic and absurd "affaires" of some of her puppets. But when she hits hard at the foul armaments racket, this odd, fascinating mixture of substance and shadow scores a lasting victory. "BLU.N.C." is one of those books that you want to quote from all the time-and don’t quite know where to start. After describing how "B.U.N.C.," having sold its poison-gas to an overseas Power with eyes on British possessions, then sells the British Government an anti-gas supply, following this up by competing with the same Government in the sale of gasmasks, the writer says, "And now you know how the B.U.N.C. did

what the Prime Minister called "Raised British Prestige Abroad and Rendered Us Invaluable Services at Home." .... A motion-picture director, signing up "England’s Venus" (who won a_ beauty contest linked up with the gas-mask trade), says: "There’s a sevenfigure fortune and the greatest career on the screen ever; waiting for the girl who can put Soul over good. What about it, baby? Can you do it?" ("t thought Greta Garbo was putting over Soul," says "England’s Venus" who, after a Big Seduction Scene, is signed and becomes Virgin Dawn.) And there’s Lady Bradbrook, wife of the armaments "king," who is always trying to make the social grade and get her name in the papers. "Her English accent was too excruciating for words. It almost literally broke up the eardrums. It almost literally turned the air purple. It was too Balliol for. Oxford and too Cheltenham for Tunbridge Wells." There is the priceless situation created when an energetic and highminded young curate tackles his viear about slum-clearances and the formation of Péace Leagues, only to find that that vicar’s bread depends mainly on the armaments "king" (who also owns the slums) for its butter; to such an extent, in fact, that the vicar, while scorning his curate, doesn’t mind finding the necessary woman when the said armaments "king" wants to get a divorce on "arranged" evidence.

HERE is a gripping passage when Sir Joshua (the armaments "king"’), during a brainstorm, sees himself in Heaven with St. Francis, Father Damien, St. Benedict, Livingstone, Arnold von Winkelvied, and others of that noble band. "They were all there, thought Sir Joshua. Except one.’ "Where's. Christ?" he said to st Francis. "He's looking round the poisongas section, I think," said St. Francis.

Later: A terrific explosion rent the air... and he turned to see the poison-gas section blow up, every shattered particle of it, to the sky. "That’s Christ, no doubt," said St. Benedict calmly. He watched the flying wreckage fall. It fell all about the heroes, but never hit one of them, "He always was very blunt when he didn’t like anything," said St. Francis ...4. I think that is sufficient to give you an inkling of what sort of a book. "B.U.N.C." is. "B.U.N.C.," says the blurb on the cover, "must be read to be believed." And, for once, a blurb is right. "B.U.N.C." should be vead-and its moral

heeded-by all-

A.R.

M.

"B.U.N.C." Frances Gray. Constable and Co., Ltd., London. Our copy from the publishers.