LITERARY.

Auckland Star, Volume LVI, Issue 162, 11 July 1925, Page 22

LITERARY.

» Mr. David Alec Wilson, of whose great life of Carlyle two volumes have already been published, has now completed the third, which is being published by MeBBTB. Kegan PauL Mr. Wilson is a retired Indian Civil Servant. There is apparently no waning of the "Peter Pan" popularity. Hodder and Stoughton announce three editions of "Peter Pan and Wendy." The edition we have received ia "retold for boys and girls" by May Byron, with the author's approval, and illustrated in black and white and colour by Mabel Lucie Attwell. This version of the famous story may bo recommended as a gift book. Among the 'Tost luggage" of literature, little gemß that drift back into the mind when all trace of their context has been forgotten, the following scrap of verse quoted in a recent causerie is worth reprinting:— We march, as weary soldiers, all, Along life's dusty way; If any man can play the pipes, For God's Bake let him play. Mr. G. B. Shaw was recently in Madeira, working on a book about Socialism. Mrs. Shaw says he found the atmosphere of Madeira very stimulating for work, which is rather alarming. G.B.S. is brilliant enough (and perverse enough sometimes) when he writes in foggy England; what will he be like in sunny Madeira? One would think ho needed damping down rather than stimulating. Captain Reginald Berkeley (formerly of Fiji and New Zealand), and Mr. Edward Shanks, are engaged upon a book to bo entitled "Anglo-Australian Cricket." It will be a history of the Test matches from their inception up till the present time, and is expected to be ready in the autumn. Captain Berkeley is himself an enthusiastic cricketer. A first-class bowler, he has played on many occasions for Mr. J. C. Squire's literary team, "The Invalids." I have just heard an amusing story recalled by the recent celebration of the Huxley Centenary, writes "Colophon," in "John O' London's Weekly." That famous painter of problem pictures, the Hon. John Collier, married in the first place Huxley's second daughter, and, after her death, Huxley's fifth daughter. On one occasion he painted a fine picture of his wife, who was depicted sleeping on a sofa with a book lying discarded on the floor beside her. The problem in this particular picture was created by the fact that the discarded book was one of Huxley's writings 1 I believe that the great thinker did not quite appreciate the implication. We do not remember having read previously any work by Elizabeth York Miller, and we do not know if she is a newly discovered star in the literary ether or not, but her "Virginia O'Dare" is a novel well above the average in merit. It is not only a'realistic and touching love story, told with the effectiveness of simplicity, but in analysis of character and of motives, we are reminded of the gloomy novelist of Russia, Dostoievsky, who builds upon a basis of fate, and sees in early impressions the foundation of all subsequent events. The story is remarkable in many ways, and the rough sketch of the plot unwisely prmted upon the covering wrapper, not only detracts from the pleasure of reading the book, but does not do justice to its construction and cleverness. Collins and Sons publish the book, and* our copy comes from Whitcombe and Tombs. " SOPHONISBA." A NEW ZEALAND WRITER'S PLAY. Greatly daring, Miss Mona Gordon, of Auckland, has written a play in verse, and she has taken an additional risk in choosing a Roman-Carthaginian subject. It is not only that poetical drama is hard to write in itself; it is also that the spirit of the age is unsympathetic towards this form of art. And the average reader is less interested in Romans and Carthaginians than in persons nearer to him in time and place. jMjss Gordon, however, may reply with a Browning quotation about high endeavour, and she deserves credit for attempting a task that is in every way difficult. The character that gives the name to the play was the daughter of* the Carthaginian Hasdrubal, and it is her tragic fate to be made a pawn in the struggle to the death between her country and Rome. Married to Syphax, King of Numidia, she influences her husband in the interests of Carthage. Syphax is overthrown, and his immediate conqueror, Masinißsa, an alley of the Roman general, Scipio, marries her at once. Scipio is determined, however, that Sophonisb.. shall grace a Roman triumph, bo Masinissa sends her poison, and she dies in the high Carthaginian fashion. Miss Gordon is not the first British writer to be impressed -with the dramatic possibilities, in the life of this daughter of Carthage, who is sacrificed for State reasons and chooses death rather than dishonour. She makes Sophonisba the central figure in the play and gives her the best speeches. Indeed the others, with the exception of Scipio, are an indifferent lot. The play is written in blank verse and is divided into several scenes. It begins with Scipio's attempt to enlist the powerful Numidian King on Rome's side and ends with the death of Sophonisba. Tho action is somewhat spasmodic, and the working out of the plot is rather naive in places, but no doubt with experience Miss Gordon will improve in these respects. Her poetry is prosy at times, and at other times overloaded, but now and again it rises to real power. This is especially so in Sophonisba's speeches, and we should say Miss Gordon had studied Euripides with loving care, and been influenced by his treatment of his hapless heroines. My life la as the field of heaven, that holds One cloud ln all its wide immensity; Far on the dimmest edge of the great sea It looms, and even as I watch grows dark, And rises like a wraith of mist forgot By the sweet sun, to threaten all my world— Men call it fear; and I. a haunting dread That from her eyes flashes keen lightning forth And trembles, and again Is still. O Fear, That T could turn away from tbee, nor hear The far-off roll of thunder in my ears, Like ocean whispering ever the same song Far inland, in a dreaming shell. . . . So Sophonisba speaks in her last hour, in verse worthy of the theme. Else-' where, Miss Gordon is inclined to force her imagery, in much the same way that a singer forces his voice. Against the faults of the play have to be set verse such as we have quoted above, and the promise of something better to come' with more work and experience. Miss Gordon succeeds in conveying something: of the mighty clash of Empires* that i ended in the absolute destruction of the Carthaginian power. I

"Ia Milton less read than he used to be?" asks the "Times" Literary Supplement, in noticing three new editions of his poems. "His importance to the scholar and to students of every grade, with the prevalence of the belief that it is a duty to read him, makes it difficult to know. For the student is apt to forget reading in study, and duties, even when they are fulfilled in the letter, often remain in the spirit unfulfilled. Our publishers, at least, can give us good evidence that his poetry still sella, a_nd there is reason for thinking that we are on the eve of a revival of interest in the greatest of his works." We have received from Chatto and Windus, the publishers, one of these book&—-the flrßt volume of a two-volumo edition of all the poems, English, Latin, Greek, and Italian, arranged in chronological order. The purpose of the edition, says the long scholarly preface by H. J. C. Grierson, is to produce the poems in a beautiful type, and in aa exact chronological order as can bo ascertained. Certainly the type—Florence Press fount—is beautiful, and since the paper and binding are to match, the volume is a treasure in appearance. We have not seen a more beautiful book at the price (12/6 net) and it is bound to appeal to those who like poetry and have enough money to 'buy something beyond ordinary editions. We can testify from experience gained in much search for information about the League of Nations, to the need for a handy, concisely compiled book such as Mr. H. Wilson Harris has written. "What the League of Nations Is" (Allen and Unwin) tells, at the moderate price of half-a-crown net, how the League was created and what it has done and is doing. Into 130 pages Mr. Harris has managed to put much information, clearly and moderately expressed. It is tho best short book wo have seen on the League and its ramifications. Of the many points made in the book, we may single out tiiis, that the idea of tho League did not proceed from America alone, though President Wilson was the statesman who rightly is most prominently identified with the framing of the Covenant and its incorporation in the Peace Treaty. As early as 1614 definite plans for a League of Nations attracted some attention in Britain, and in 1916 a Foreign Office Committee was appointed to work out a scheme. Mr. Wallace-Jones' "Health and SelfCure Exercises" (Methuen) provides a series of "physical jerks" involving very little strain and designed to develop every muscle. It is annoying to observe that men who never read about health, sickness, food, or exercise, and do exactly as they please daily and nightly, can maintain perfect health* and live to a green nnd happy old age, and also that in the bodies of many thin delicate-looking persons of both sexes there is an altogether unexpected reserve of physical strength. It is quite clear that big muscles do not necessarily mean strength, nor "skinny" limbs a lack of it, as any asylum attendant can prove. Athleticism depends more upon will and absence of fat than anything else, but the constant use of sets of muscles, the testing of nerve, artery, heart and other organs, the degree of coordination so obtained, make for general "fitness." It is the well-oiled engine with banked fires, as compared with rusted bearings and warm ashes of tho unexercised man. Walking (and the manner of it), riding (and the style of it), both provide all that is needed in the way of health promotion, but for clerks and shopmen, etc., a tepid "sponge down," a rub with a rough towel, and ten minutes with Wallace-Jones, will be worth a rise ;in salary in their cheering effect. " I_OVE." A STRIKING "ELIZABETH" NOVEL. i The gifted author of "Elizabeth and Her German Garden" reminds us of the "Punch" joke about the "Old Contemptiblee." "There goes Mrs. Brown's 'usband. 'E's one of tho Old Contemptibles," says one slum woman. "All 'usbands is Contemptiblps," Bay 9 another with scorn. As the colloquialism goes, the greater "Elizabeth" has her knife into men and particularly husbands. Sho has an t extraordinary capacity for bringing out their weaknesses and cruelties, and often with such fidelity as to make the male reader shiver in his conscience. Not that her latest novel, "Love," has particularly bad specimens. None of the three men in the story (one of them is dead, but his spirit lives) is comparable with the Baron in "The Caravaners." One of them, indeed, is a very fine fellow. But in George, the dead husband of the heroine, and Stephen, her son-in-law, we have the skilful psychology, the merciless analysis, the picture of cruelty proceeding from both egotism and kindness, that are to be found in her earlier books. The plot is novel. George had made life comfortable for .himself and his wife, but no more. Ho loved her after his fashion, but he was one of those men for whom life has no surprises, no adventures, but is simply a conventional round. Blossoming out in the freedom of her widowhood, she attracts a man young enough to be her son. He falls genuinely in love with her, and after a courtship described with rare charm and insight, insists on marrying her. Catherine's daughter has married a clergyman old enough to be her father, and is passionately devoted to I him and his work. Wo thus have in one I circle two couples ill-matched in age, and the author makes full use of her opportunities for clash of character and circumstance. The daughter and her husband are priga, with whom the mother, awakened late in life to the joy of things, cannot get on, yet the daughter has the sense to reply, when her husband exclaims against the disparity of ages in her mother's second marriage, that there is just the same difference in their own case. The clergyman is brilliantly but we think venomously drawn—so full of good works, so devoted to his young wife, yet so dry and so lacking in charity. * There is tragedy in the book, though the ending is a question rather than a definite result. Having yielded, against her better judgment, to the determination of her young wooer, Catherine finds that Nature will not be denied; she is old and ageing, and he is young. It would be unfair to unfold all the plot, but we may say that Christopher, who in his manly devotion is most .attractive, plays the game to the end. There are poignancy, humour, and romance in this striking book. We have not read anything for a long time so good of its kind as the meeting of this curious pair and the awakening of love between them. Once more wo gave way to the spell of the author's mixture of wit, humour, and sentiment. To read her English is a delight. Macmillan's publish "Love" in their Empire Library.