NEW FICTION

Press, Volume XCVIII, Issue 28832, 28 February 1959, Page 3

NEW FICTION

Westering. By Irwin Blacker. -Wiedenfield and Nlcolson. 283 pp.

In the decade 1840-50 many hardy American pioneers started to trek westwards in search of new land. This is the tale of a train of covered Waggons which

ent forth from Independence, Missouri in June 1845, and traversed 2000 miles of- prairie, mountain and forest before reaching Oregon three months later. The log of the journey is kept by one of their number Stith Hibberd, but the main interest of the story lies in the history, character and actions of the adventurers. As might be expected there are undesirables among them who inevitably precipitate violence and bloodshed. The pretty, wanton Laura Cannon falls for Jasper Lee and her husband in despair commits suicide. The woman is turned loose to fend for herself, her arrogant lover is flogged. A child is lost and precious days are spent in fruitless search for him. A swift and terrible epidemic of cholera carries off five more of their number, including Caleb Kettering, the Boston business man who has unwittingly committed murder and is fleeing the law. His widow, courageous and gently born, is left with a small daughter to face the perilous future. Renewal of hope is granted to her in the person of the kindly German Jew, Moses Straussberg, and their marriage provides the only touch of softness recorded in a stark chronicle. With winter already gripping the land the train reaches the promised land to face its chancy future with hope and thankfulness. The toopretty picture on the dust-cover with its implications of romance is highly misleading, for this is a harsh book which does, however, bear the stamp of real-life adventure.

The Sons of Avrom. By Roger Ikor. Translated by Leonard M. Friedman and Maxwell Singer. Jonathan Cape. 383 PP.

This novel, which won the Prix Goncourt in France, is an accomplished work which should find a wide public. It is a study of the gradual acclimatisation of a Russian Jewish family into French life, extending over three generations. In times like burs, when the refugee and the emigrant trying to make a new life for themselves and their children are all about us, it is a particularly interesting subject. Roger Ikor handles it with tolerance and great sympathy—especially for the older generation, whose situation is the most poignant—genial and benevolent humour. The interest never flags, in spite of the length of the novel. It should bring to all who read it a greater understanding both of the Jewish people and of the difficulties of the foreigner adapting himself to a new country, which cares little whether he adapts himself or not.

The Glittering Horn. Secret memoirs of the Court of Justinian. By Pierson Dixon. 255 pp.

At the end of this book the author supplies an impressive list of sources used in the writing of it. And yet, impressive as the sources might appear, the story he has constructed from them—a story of hidden intrigue and of lust and corruption in high places—fails to come to life. The court scandals surrounding the Emperor Justinian require some subtlety in the author who would capitalise upon them as Sir Pierson Dixon has sought to do in this book. Lacking this subtlety the book is too stilted and artificial to succeed in persuading the reader that here is the real stuff of history.

Damned Shall be Desire. The Passionate Life of Guy de Maupassant. By Stephen Coulter. Jonathan Cape. 350 PP-

This work cannot properly be called a biography. It could more accurately be called a novel based on the life of Maupassant, just as some Hollywood films have been based on a version of the life of Byron, or Napoleon or Nero. It is obviously written by a young American who has taken some courses on French Literature with a dash of graduate, or perhaps even post-graduate, study on Maupassant; and has then decided to make a book out of it all. He invents conversations wholesale, gives no documentation for any of his information, and in general is thoroughly unscholarly. But he gives the public who are not particular about such requirements full value for their money. There are bedroom scenes at least every ten pages, with intriguing variations of language to relieve the monotony of the subject And there are swags of celebrities introduced in thumb-nail sketches, every famous French personage, from counts to courtesans, who was alive in or about Maupassant’s time crops up somewhere. Moreover, just to show we are in France and reading about French literature, the text is liberally larded with words and phrases like “Mon vieux,” “Mon Dieu,” "Magnlflque” "Viens, chert,” “Nom d’un chien!" “Hein?” and even, to daring, “Ah merde, toi,” or “Fais I’amour . . . c’est b0n....” The life of Maupassant, it can safely be said, was never like this. Angry Harvest By Hermann Field and Stanislaw MiersenskL Gollancs. 343 pp. The authorship of this remarkable story makes an even more remarkable story. Hermann Field, an American citizen, went to Poland in 1949 to trace the whereabouts of his brother who had disappeared in Central Europe some time before. He was imprisoned on a vague charge of spying, and after being kept in a narrow cell for five years was released with apologies and an indemnity by the Government. Stanislaw Mierzenski, who became his cell mate, was a highly educated Pole against whom the same inexplicable charge was made, and who also was subsequently released. The two men, after a period of mutual suspicion, became confidential and to save their sanity decided to write a book. “Angry Harvest” is the result of their collaboration. It is the story of a Polish village in the later stages of the war. The Germans have been indulging in savage pogroms, and when a farmer, Leon Wolny, finds a terrified and starving Jewish girl refugee in the woods he decides that it is his duty, as a good Christian, to give her tempory sanctuary, though he knows that discovery will mean death or imprisonment. He hides the girl, Rosa, in a cellar under the livingroom floor which is unknown to anyone but himself, intending to send her away next day, but she falls ill and by the time she has recovered he is already half in love with her, and urges her to remain. For nearly a year he keeps her hidden by means of subterfuges. During this time they become lovers though neither is really drawn to each other, and with the waning of passion comes mutual recrimination. Rosa, the middle - class intellectual, feels defiled by sacrificing her virginity to the prosperous peasant. Leon regrets having taken what he conceives to have been a mere Jewess. Their final estrangement leads to tragedy. The characters are drawn with uncanny skill, and the inner conflicts of the girl who-has seen fiendish cruelties perpetrated on her people, yet clings tenaciously to life, and of the man, well-inten-tioned, but mean, narrow and ambitious to rise above his peasant origins, ring completely true. The fears of a community, harassed by temporarily victorious Germans as well as by the dangerous activities of the partisans in their midst is perfectly observed: and the authors* cruel sense of claustrophobia communicates itself in their pages. The inevitability of tragedy is implicit throughout, which gives to the book a touch of genuine greatness.