LITERARY.

Auckland Star, Volume LV, Issue 248, 18 October 1924, Page 54 (Supplement)

LITERARY.

A new book by Colonel T. E. Lawrence, of Mesopotamian fame, "The Seven Pillars of Wisdom," is being published in a severely limited edition at thirty guineas. Subscribers have to promise not to write about the book. Mr. Stanley Weyinan celebrated hie i 60th birthday at Ruthin, in North Wales, the other day. After a silence which lasted for eleven years, ho is again writing vigorous romances. The biggest literary influence of his life, he says, has been that of Scott. A recent "John o' London's Weekly" compiles the following list of best eellers in fiction from information supplied 'by booksellers. John Buchan's "The Three Hostages," .Mrs. Baillie Reynolds' "His f-econd Venture," Anne Douglas Sedgwick's "The Little French Girl." Mr. ; Buchau must have found Dick Hannay highly profitable. We do not mind confessing that we are not tired of him yet. Three books by Mr. E. V. Lucas are in Methuen's autumn list. "Encounters nnd Diversions" is a collection of essays; "The Same Star" is a comedy in acts; the third book, "A Wanderer! Among Pictures," is a companion to his well-known "Galleries of Europe." Men will bo suggesting of Mr. Lucas, as they did of Andrew Lang, that he is not a man, but a syndicate. William Cowper's famous poem on John Oilpin has now been translated into French by Mrs. Gutch. The translator has endeavoured to convey the spirit of the original poem, and the same metre is retained throughout. This is the first verse of the French translation:— Jean Gilpin etait citoyen De credit mercantile, Capitaine auasi de la garde De Londres, cette fanieuse ville. It is a sign of having arrived that an author should 'be published in a collected edition. Mr. Galsworthy has not only | been paid that compliment, but he has, had the honour of having an examination I paper set upon the characters in his i books. Making and answering these' tests is an interesting pastime. It is surprising, sometimes, how little you know about questions concerning books that are among your favourites. If any Dickensian doubts this let him sit down to answer Calverley's famous examination paper on "Pickwick." We wonder whether there are years of bottled-up resentment 'behind this amusing paragraph in "John o' London's Weekly": "Mr. George Bernard Shaw gave it out recently that he proposed to climb Ben Nevis before the end of hie Highland holiday. The fact if hardly worth mentioning, since quite a good road runs from Fort William to the summit, and old ladies frequently make the nscent." There is some satisfaction in being able to get one back at the perverse and cocksure G.B.S. The first five volumes of the collected edition of Louis Becke, the Australian whose gift of writing about the South Seas was discovered by the "Bulletin," receives the compliment of a two-oolumn review in the "Times Literary Supplement which is one of the greatest critical journals of the world. By the way, has any other Australian author been given a collected edition in England ? The reviewer has much praise lor Becke, of whom he eaye that "he has held hie place while his successors are forgotten, because he tells the truth." From being a quarterly, the Australian journal "The Home" has begun to appear every two months. The first bi-monthly number is an attractive mixture of society news, especially portraits, art, architecture, general articles i and humour. It is a pity that so much should be given to the social eide of things, but probably so expensively pro- I duced a journal could not live if it did f not make this appeal. Among the more ■ serious contents we may note an article on the great French etcher, Charles Meryon, by Dora Wilcox, the New Zealand writer who has settled in Sydney. The printing and the illustrations have a fine quality, as one would expect from Art in Australia, Ltd., and as in American magazines, one's attention is divided between the reading matter and the attractively presented advertisements. The poet, especially the young poet, has a particularly hard job to get a hearing, and he cannot be blamed if he occasionally adopts unconventional methods. We know one New Zealand j poet who takes his wares round from I door to door, and why not ? Food is sold i that way, co why not food for the mind? Mr. R. K. Mason, the Auckland poet whose little volume, "The Beggar," we noticed recently, has issued a penny broadsheet containing five short poems. This is not the first venture of the kind in Auckland, but we doubt whether any previous ones have been co good in quality. Mr. Mason's faults of youth still hang about him, but his work is improving. The broadsheejt is dedicated to "the Unknown Hero who sent mc £3 in appreciation of "The Beggar,'" in gratitude to this man and as "a hortatory example to other people." The greatest compliment which the reader can pay the authclr is to state ■ that one has been carried beyond mere criticism and into the actiial 'companionship of ;he characters of the story, has shared their thoughts, and rejoiced in their deeds to the exclusion of the present and the forgetful ness of self. Mr. Francis Lynde has the gift of vivid narration, and in his "Mr. Arnold" (Methuen), we have followed the varying fortunes of his hero, and been caught up in the rush and excitement of his life β-s an American spy in the English camp, in those days long past when British troops were sent to quell the rebellion of the descendants of adventurers from England. The War of Independence was a manifestation of that desire for freedom which has always been a British characteristic. Lynde's Captain Page was a past master in j artistic lying, in evasion, and equivoca-1 tion, and in- all honesty one is forced, by | his bravely humorous resources, his mental quickness, and effective- double entendre, to admire where one should condemn. From page to page the reader is hurried, in laughing, gasping anxiety and aeep interest, to the closing chapter which, however, leaves a thread or two promising "further revelations," as a ' reporter would say. This is a good his- ■ toxical romance. - j

We welcome the announcement of a new book of critical studies by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch. It is to deal ! largely with the Victorians, including Dickens, Thackeray, and Trollope. If it is all on a level with the recent articles on Trollope that he wrote for the "Nation," it will be very good. There may tie more profound critics than "Q," but there is no one who brings a more finely tempered enthusiasm to the task and ie more stimulating. The old idea that a critic is a person whose business it is to disparage, lingers. "Q" will have none of it; he is a professor of enthusiasm as well as of English literature. He has a most lively and readable style and an adorable sense of humour. His 'Studies in Literature," and on the "Art of Writing," which fortunately you can get now in delightful pocket editions— pocket in two senses—should be read by every appreciator of good criticism. Mr. W. B. Maxwell, himself the son of a famous novelist, is a fine crafts- ! man. Once fairly in his clutches, say fifty pages or so in the narrator's net, one abandons common sense and is ready to accept all he relates, to awaken later, ponder, and question. In "Elaine at the Gates," the novelist has gathered a. number of ordinary persons and attributed to them extraordinary characteristics. Most of the men and women in this story are, as the Cornish say, I "not exactly," and if one met them singly In society, one would avoid and pity them. Although Elaine ie sufficiently old-fashioned to suffer from "brain fever," she ia moderuly abnormal. There are not many healthy young women who lie face downward on wet ground and dig slender lingers deeply into the mud and "howl." because a young man has got another girl into trouble. The story is a play without a villain or "comic relief."" There is the lost fortune, the man of etrange hypnotic influence, the ill-used heroine, I the faithless lover—tho clear familiar folk—so metamorphosed by Mr. Maxwell's art that one greets them as stranger*. From our copy sixteen pages are missing (from page" 128 onwards) and the fact that we bitterly resented this loss is undiluted and sincerest praise. Mr. St. John ErvLne'e continuation of I "The (Merchant of Venice," with Portia and Shylock the only likeable characjters, which we noticed here some months ago, pales 'before a continuation of I "Hamlet." that has just been perpetrated >by a Frenchman. After a prologue describing how God the Father decides, on the intervention of the patriaroh Abraham, to give the principal characters of the play a second time on earth, the dramatist shows us Poloniue and his daughter Ophelia, or rather Ophelie, with the servant Ophelia, at their country cottage, says the "Weekly Westminster." The time for Hamlet's marriage with Ophelie is getting near. He has a superficial resemblance to Shakespeare's character, but ell his. dreaminess, touched with a certain sensuality, is emphasised as only a French writer would emphasise it. There must bo something in the race-"theory of literature after all. Ophelie epuras him; the second Poloniue proves even more fatuous and calculating than the first, and eventually Hamlet discovers that he is not the son of the King of Denmark, but of low birth, upon ■which Poloniue makes him his swineherd, and the poor ex-Prince finds himself deserted by all but the faithful Ophelia, the maid-ser-vant. Poloniue insults her, and Hamlet kills him. The friende of Polonius, including the captain who had sought the hand of Ophelie, thereupon stone Hamlet and Ophelia to death. To all of which we May add that this seems to be a case where second thoughts were not best. "Unclaimed Wealth" (Allen and Unwin), by H. Abbati, mny be recommended for perusal by members of Parliament, financiers and political economists. The whole matter of the relationship of labour and capital is dealt with by the author. He goes to Henry George for one or two quotations, and wo feel somewhat elderly when we remember poring studiously over that gentleman's opinions in our youth. For the general reader there is one chapter in Mr. Abbati'e book of great interest. It is headed the "Abuse of Surplus," and seeks to explain the present financial relationship of tho European countries which from ordinary newspaper reading it is very hard to understand. It is always difficult to see how one gains by lending a debtor the means to pay oneself, and Mr. Abbati seeks to make this clear. In fact, he has set himself \ the task of untangling international financial and fiscal muddles. He opposes the English "dole/" system, and the methods of "creating" work for charitable ends. He has a mathematical mind, and a desire to put international problems in algebraic formula, first devoting his attention to the manufacture of •special terms of a fixed value and meaning, to prevent confusion of thought. It seems to us, however, that his idea of money being "locked up in banks" is not altogether in accordance with fact, because the banker uses money ac stock in trade and dislikes "dead" stock as much as any retail trader, and keeps his money moving. As another of the Platypus series, the Cornstalk Publishing Company has reprinted "The True Story of Margaret Catchpole." Aβ told by G. D. Barton it has all the fascination of truth. It has been eaid that every man of mature age can tell one interesting story by relating hie own life truthfully. Margaret Catchpole's experiences and adventures were such that they provide a mass of literary material which Mr. Barton (Barrister at Law) has handled , with masterly simplicity and success. The English country girl, strong, healthy, athletic, and physically attractive, who before she was twenty-six was twice sentenced to death, and became known through the length and breadth of England, must ever be a typical example of love "faithful unto death." Her devotion to a smuggler, and love which survived long after the death of its object; her steadfastness and strength of character which enabled her to suffer all things and endure all things; and her innate purity and goodness, gave her lasting fame. Her's is the victory of the conquered, for throughout her life she was the victim of uneecapable disasters, all of which were connected directly or otherwise with her unvarying attachment to the young seaman, who died when he and Margaret were on their way to be married. Margaret was transported to Australia (she lived 1751-1819) and won an enviable reputation for personal worth in a convict colony where good women were but little valued. Margaret's story is full of thrills, and the events of her extraordinary life bring into relief the manner and custom of an almost forgotten period, and the doings and sayings of ! numerous curious people. Our copy is. [from Angus and Robert son.