OTHER NOVELS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 153, 30 June 1934, Page 2 (Supplement)

OTHER NOVELS.

A FALSE GLAMOUR. David Farrer, in "A Career for tlie Gentleman," (Chatto and Windus), does more to encourage crime than is credited to American films, for he imagines a young man of good education, bored by homo life, cast into prison for running down and killing a pedestrian, and in prison meeting cheery boys of the smash and grab gangs, whose related adventures are so sparkling , with "thrill " that when the young gentleman is released he finds home more drab than before, runs away, and joins the thieves. His reckless driving, superior education and ingenuity enable his gang to get £1000 each in the first haul, and only accident prevents the gang doing as well or belter later. A daring girl becomes his friend, discovers his occupation, and finally causes his untimely death. The results of these smash and grab robberies are. so productive and the risks so real that, as the- insurance companies I suffer the loss and noi the tradesmen, I the boys think themselves modern Robin Hoods, to be admired and blamed only by the police, whoso business it ie to face risks as great to capture robbers. Kathleen Hewitt's "Strange Salvation" is melancholy but unusually arresting, because there arc minute detailed descriptions of the wiles of unqualified canvassing dentists; the mad excitements of London dog racing; the degrading, depressing life of the cheap suburban apartment house; and the life of a group of women in a London rescue home, where girls with unwanted babies, born outside legitimate marriage, are given shelter and help to press unwilling fathers of the babies to pay for their support. The almost hopeless outlook of a "ruined" girl of the poorer class, as compared with the urireproved reckless immorality of society girls, is a stain on civilisation. Judy O'Grady and the Colonel's lady are sisters under their skins, and why what is "horribly wrong" for- a working girl should be a jest to the rich girl is a puzzle' left unsolved by the authoress. The reader here meets queer company, and leaves it with an increase of sympathy for those whoso troubles have been laid bare by one who has lived among them. The publishers are Elkiu, Mathews and Marrot. The Endeavour Press of Sydney has done much to encourage Australian authors, and some excellent fiction has come through this house. "The Blue North," by H. Drake-Brockman, is a tropical romance, introducing the life and local colour of Far North Australia and the pearl fishing. There is a very strange mixture of races and characters 'in this story, in which the bad outnumbers the good. A young man deserts his wife (who is later, drowned at eea), and, buying a schooner and hiring a crew, sails around the North West Cape to the pearling grounds. Here he meets a lawless pearler, who is murderer, thief, drunkard and seducer, but is able to go his way unchecked because there are no police. The young man, who has sought for freedom, finds that lawlessness is begotten by freedom, and that people are less free ungoverned than when under law which exists for mutual protection from evil. He has luck in fishing, and marries a waif of fifteen who has been outraged by the drunkard. The description of a cyclone is not overdone in relation to the forces of Nature, but rather unreal in its estimate of human reactions. "The Road to Nowhere" (Angus and Robertson), is a new romance by Maurice Walsh. It is conceived and written in the same vein as his "Blackcock'e Feather" and "The Small Dark Man." The seeiie is laid in Ireland, and the characters are mostly Irish or connected with the Scottish Highlands. There is a touch of tragedy in it, glimpses of Irish peasant life, boxing that would have attracted the author of "Lavengro," and a quaint love ending. "The Road to Nowhere" is the kind of yarn in which Mr. Walsh is thoroughly at home, and is able to interest and amuse his readers. It is dedicated to Neil Gunn, the Scottish novelist, the stark realism of whose "Morning Tide," etc., created such sharp conflict of opinion in his native land. It is a long time since we have come across that old cliche, the. table that groaned under the load of its food, but (J. K. Cowan revives it iu "The Cry in the Valley" (Herbert Jenkins). It points to a lack of finish, a superfluity, in what has the elements of a good mystery story. A sacrificial stone in water, a mad woman given to witchcraft, and a poison from East Africa, nro part of the brew, and there is a double romance. A mystery story in which the interest is more taut is "The Knife," by Herbert Adama (Collins) — another country houeo murder. The identity of the murderer is well concealed, and look at the last paragraph: "Once again he took her in his arms—." What more could the reader want?