BOOKS AND AUTHORS

Dominion, Volume 20, Issue 54, 27 November 1926, Page 27

BOOKS AND AUTHORS

(By

“CHERSWUD.”)

Give a man a pipe he can smoke. Give a man a book he can read: And his home is bright with a calm delight Though the room be poor indeed. —JAMES THOMBOK.

BOOKS OF THE DAY.

The Roof of the World.

"An Unexplored Pass: A Narrative of a 1000-nule Journey to the Karakoram Himalayas,” by Captain B. K. Featherstone (Hutchinson, London; per Ferguson and Osborn). BrigadierGeneral the Hon. C. G. Bruce, C.B-, M.V.O , who, it will be remembered, was the leader of the last Everest expedition, writes the introduction to this volume and expresses a high opinion of Captain Featherstone’s achievements. Most of the previous expeditions in this area were on a much larger scale, had official backing and ample financial resources. Captain Featherstone’s attempt was a private venture, undertaken while on ordinary leave, and he was the only European of the party. Captain Featherstone was further handicapped in that lie had no previous experience in Himalayan travel, and the region traversed is one of the most sterile and difficult in the world. He had mapped out for bis toute the crossing of the Kara-koran range by the New Muztagh Pass. 'Hie line was seven miles to the west of the Old Pass figuring in so many narratives of those who have travelled across the “Roof of the World.’’ The route chosen crossed the great divide at an approximate height of nearly 19,000 ft., passed over some of the largest glaciers outside the Polar regions and with Himalayan heights towering 10,000 feet above It has never been traversed by any European and seldom by natives, though Captain Featherstone believes that during internal troubles, when the ordinary trade routes were closed, the New Muztagh was used as an emergency pass When he had all but succeeded in getting through he was forced to abandon the attempt owing to the desertion of his porters at Askole, the nearest inhabited place, at the foot of the Great Biafo Glacier. Captain Featherstone, though suffering much hardship, was not altogether disheartened, and means to try again. His route, as described in the book, lay from Srinagar in Kashmir through Baltistan or Little Thibet, following the course of the Indus and afterwards the Shigar and Braldoh rivers, crossing on the way 7 the Zoji La (11,578 feet), and Skoro passes, and making perilous passages of the streams on twig bridges, or in boats of inflated skins. On returning he passed through a portion of hitherto unknown territory, where he experienced considerable hostility. He retraced his steps up the valley of the Shyok affluent of the Indus, and next crossed the Kardung Pass (17,000 ft. to Leh, and the Mamika La (13.000 ft. on the road back to his starting point at Srinagar, a journey of 1067 miles. And all this with little to reward him for his efforts and privations, except the satisfaction of overcoming obstacles. What these were w 7 e may gather from the following passage:—

It is only on venturing into this frozen wilderness that one begins to realise their extent; Peaks tower up from an intricate labyrinth of massive mountains, separated from one another by deep valleys filled with pathless glaciers. They rise in sharp points, and are guarded by precipices and slopes, the latter covered with snow and ice throughout the year.

Captain Featherstone gives numerous interesting bits of information concerning the strange peoples inhabiting this region, and of their laws and customs. The book is also finely illustrated. (Price 215.) The Yellow Peril.

“The Orient I Found,” by T. J. McMahon (Duckworth, London; per Whitcombe and Tombs). Mr. McMahon is a well-known Australian traveller and in this volume he gives his impressions of a visit to Borneo, the Philippines, Japan, and China. It is mot to be expected that he, an Australian, should look with sympathetic eyes (altogether) upon the swarming inhabitants of these countries. Those who have read other recent books of Eastern travel will not find anything strikingly new in this ■ volume, very readable though it is. His descriptions of the large cities visited are much the same as numerous earlier writers have given us He, however, turned to Australia firmly convinced that there is a growing spirit in Japan and China that is pregnant with danger to the Commonwealth in the near future. He stands firmer than ever for the White Australia policy, butf from what he saw and from what he heard, lie is convinced that that policy, sooner or later, probably in a quarter of a' century, will be challenged by the Orientals. He says,

It Is now regarded as a eatise of offence, and it will be tolerated only as long ns Oriental influence lacks the power which, it cannot be denied, it is rapidly gaining. If not a part of the British Empire. how long would Australia nf its own volition be able to maintain its present attitude?

It were well if Australians would try to realise what a progressive world is the Orient. He does not think that a nation, being white, will be accepted as necessarily superior to a nation being yellow Moral strength, with its attributes of superlative energy and purity in politics, trade, education, domestic life and sport, alone will be the factor making for supremacy. Will the white race be able to perpetuate 'ts present superiority on such grounds ? 'Die question is a moot one, some think. The author pleads for .a less agressive attitude toward the yellow man; for a seeking after fuller knowledge of his mind and point of view ■ the exercising of more patience and the displaying of more courtesv to, and dealing more justly with the Oriental But, nevertheless, as Mr McMahon reads the writing on the wall, these things mav stave off the day of deminfl for equal rights, but that demand will be made. How will it end? (Price 17s. fid.)

MISCELLANEOUS

Classics of Art. “From Giotto to John,” by H. N. Wethered (per Whitcombe and Tombs). Mr. Wethered takes his readers hack to the earliest days' of modern art, and brings them, via Reynolds, Blake, Ruskin, and others, to its most modern phases In addition to the historical data and contemporary criticism, which he reviews, he has a way of telling so manv interesting things that he makes his volume most delightful reading, and it was good to read again Henley’s tilt at Ruskin, even though my sympathies were with Ruskin. (Price 10s.)

No “Nastv Little Science.” “An Outline of Abnormal Psychology,” bv William McDougal) (Methuen, London; per Ferguson and Osborn). Mr. McDougall’s “Outline of Psychology” should be read prior to a studv of the present volume, if the reader is to get the l est out of both One school of psvc’-'o-nsts is mostly concerned wit!; the development and application of laboratory experimental methods, the studv of neuroses and psychoses being left chiefly to medical

men. This author tries to bring the two schools together in one consistent scheme of what seems to be the soundest and most fruitful in contemporary academic psychology. Dr. McDougall is keenly critical of Freud, Jung, Bleulcr, Adler, and others of that school, the book, though somewhat hard reading to the uninitiated, is not intended for the medical expert or student of psychology only, but is of value to all who are interested in the riddle of human personality (Price, 17s. 6d.)

A Dialectologer. ( “The Dialects of Central Scotland,’ by Sir James Wilson (Oxford University Press, per Whitcombe and Tombs). Sir Janies Wilson, K.C.5.1., M.A., has made the dialects of Britain almost a life study, and now he is making the publication of volumes dealing with the dialects of the various districts a labour of love (for one cannot imagine he has any expectation of a monetary return from such publications). Sir Janies began this series of volumes by publishing a book on the dialect of. the New Forest, Hampshire, in 1914. Since then he has published two on Lowland Scots and Central Ayrshire, respectively. The present volume makes a third that he has devoted to the dialects of Scotland, and now that a revival of the Doric is spreading all over Scotland, especially among the educated classes, these books of Sir James’s ought to win for him ample recognition and reward. (Price, 10s.) LATEST FICTION From Messrs. Collins, London. Messrs. Collins have gathered round them such a number of clever writers that their imprint on a book is now taken as a guarantee that the standard of attainment reached therein is well above the average. “Sack and Sugar,” by Mrs. A, Sidgwick. This lady is loved by novel readers because of her easy style, her sparkling dialogue, and light-hearted humour. She lays her finger on national and personal foibles, but she does it in such a kindly way that one takes the double-barrelled rebuke without offence, and then she sugarcoats the pill by admitting our real worth—national and . personal—in things that matter. This story is of a widow and her two sons and two daughters, all born in different countries. These, with several other amusing characters, are soon friends with the reader, and when he closes the book it is with the hope of meeting them all again. “Security,” by Esme Wynne-Tyson. Old material as to plot and tragedy, but so differently and so effectively staged as to make old things new. Jane is a wonderfully fine psychological study. Readers of "Security” will long for the author’s next. “Complete Change,” by A. J. Philp. A Park Lane magnate is ordered change and rest, and finds his way into the underworld. Such a situation is pregnant with possibilities, and the author makes excellent use of the materials at hand. “The Footsteps That Stopped,” by A. Fielding. A mystery story in which the secret is kept securely hidden until the dramatic end. “Young Lady Daziticourt,” by Conal O'Riordan. A story revolving round the sex complex, but the subject is always kept on a high plane, and the story is as clean as it is enthralling. Mr. O’Riordan never did better work. Other good novels from the same firm include “All the Wav,” bv-Elizabeth Fagan, "Queens Mate,” by Phillip MacDonald, and “Cross Trails,” a Canadian romance, by Herman Whitaker (Whitcombe and Tombs, and Ferguson and Osborn).

From Messrs. Duckworth, London.

“Across the Hill,” by G. P. Robinson. If you can read another story in which the Great War figures, let it be “Across the Hill,” and you'll be glad you did. “The Thirteenth,” by Clare Sheridan. The story of a girl who was eighteen when the war started, and served in a Cossack regiment. When the war closed she had no illusions about men. She falls in with a young man several years her junior, who has preserved all bis ideals of women. She has already had twelve lovers, and is superstitiously afraid of venturing on the thirteenth. She tells the stories of her other loves, and the thirteenth is the sequel to them all The book is written with all the author’s fearless indifference to convention—if that is a recommendation. “The Grand Young Man,” by 7 E. Wingfield-Stratford. A really humorous story, and stamps Dr. Wing-field-Stratford as a front-rank . humorist, albeit, occasionally there, is irony rather than real humour. The story develops along the usual lines, but the ending is not what most readers will forecast. There are an industrial magnate, a Labour leader, a strike, etc. The Labour leader, Nat Medwin, is killed in a riot. It is something of a surprise to find in such fiction such a sympathetic characterisation of a strike leader. “And Then Came Spring,” by John Hargrave. The situations in this story may happen, but that a man would leave his wife, the mother of his children, whom he still loves, for such a cheap, vain and emptv woman as is here portrayed is unbelievable—unless he was utterly degenerate. As a sto'ry it is only so-so. “Look Out for Squalls,” by Frank Romer. Major Tranter, whose acquaintance we made in “Tit For Tat,” comes on the scene once more and to greater purpose. Frank Romer knows all Nat Gould ever knew and a big bit over about racing crooks and spielers and the humours’ and tricks of the underworld, all of which he uses to good purpose for his readers’ entertainment. “The Door of Beyond,” by Gladys St. John-Loe. A psychic romance, which may be very psychical, but it is not at all romantic in the true meaning of the word. “Husks in Mav,” bv Holt Marvel. Part parable, part realism, a story that will stimulate thought and cause discussion among thoughtful men and women. Tn the heroine the author has just missed creating a new and lasting character. (Per Ferguson and Osborn.) From Messrs. Hutchinson, London. "Blown by the Wind," by A. Dawson Scott. The fifth of this author’s stories of Cornwall. Mrs. Scott gives us many charming descriptions of rural scenery, while she is equally skilful in dealing with the elemental in the unlettered peasantry. “Jill,” by E M. Delafield. Miss Delafield gives us that most unusual thing, something new in the novel line. The lipstick and powder puff needn’t have been so much in evidence; but it would take a lot of such faults to spoil so good a storv. “Quality Bill’s Girl,” by C. W.'Tyler. A b’reezy and thrilling detective story, with most of the action on the sea. "Bellerion,” by R. Sabatini. A real old-style -omance, the scenes of which are laid in medieval Itnlv. Readers of “Scaramauche” and "The Sea Hawk” will move these books down a bit on their bookshelves ’ to make room for a better story. "Our Ladv of Marble,” bv Ursula Bloom. The author of “A Great Beginning” has written a great story. True, there is religious propaganda _(alwavs more or less objectionable), but the story is told with such restraint of language, such intensity of feeling, and fullness of understanding, that the thought of propaganda is lost and only the humanity of it all remains (The foregoing all per Whitcombe and Tombs). “The Besieging Citv,” bv Jane Mander. New York is the besieging city, and Jane Mander is a New Zealander. I remember Miss Mander before she left New Zealand, and from what I then saw of -her work thought she would make a

great journalist. She turned from journalism to fiction, and . . . well, tire best one can say is that there are many less successful in the same line. In this book, however, we get less of the fictionist and more of the journalist, which is all to the good so far as the worth of the book is concerned. “The Valley of Missing Men,” by J. B. Ames. An abandoned mining town out west, .characteristically named “Hell’s Kitchen,” is the hub of the valley and of this dashing cowboy varn of one “Buck Fargo” who “for a lark” holds up the stagecoach and subsequently and consequently proceeds to go through a number of exciting adventures, out of which he issues successfully and wins his girl. Then the reader has a chance to draw a breath. “The Citv in the Sea,” by H. de Vere Stacpoole'. A submerged city in Greek waters was discovered by one of a sub.marine crew during the war. He drew a plan and sent it to his father afterwards dying of enteric fever Bobby Le strange, a voung author, is entrusted with the job of discovering the said sunken city, and getting possession of its many rich treasures. A good story, but not equal to the earlier work of the same author. (The last three volumes per Ferguson and Osborn.) From Messrs. Dent, London. “Blindness,’ by Henry Green. Mr. Green is stated to be very young, but if his ideal of what a story should be is greater than what ne has been able to accomplish, it is, nevertheless, no small achievement. The hero is just setting out for his final term at school when he loses his sight. He has been all a schoolboy should not have been. He hated athletics, he was strongly individualistic and eccentric. The story, however, is not only depressing, it is oppressive. “The Minister’s Daughter,” bv Hildur Dixelius. Of Swedish novels that have been published in English this is destined to be one of the most successful. The author shows a power of concentration unhappily not much in evidence in many modern novels. Some readers may think the religious side of the heroine is too much emphasised, but otherwise she would not have been the woman she was Edward Garnett writes a most appreciative “foreword/’ and I can but echo Ins statement that this book “is masterly by its form, by its proportions, by the precision of its author’s strokes.” “The Gates of Horn,” by Bernard Sleigh, purports to be from the records of a "society for the investigation of faery fact and fallacy.” Stories of “the wee folk” are so charmingly and so convincingly told that one can scarcely maintain disbelief in their realitv. “Under Northern Lights,” bv Alan Sullivan. Stories of. life in the northern wilderness, striking, intense, vehement, violent. A book that taken up impels and compels to the conclusion.

From Messrs. Jarrolds, London. “The Merchant of Souls,” by Douglas Goldring. A tale of the occult power of Everard Powis, an alleged “spiritual prince,” who exercises a strange power over men and women. The story deals with two women who come under his influence; of their struggle to possess his love. Bianca Carson fights against her fate, and her end is tragic. Betty Verschoyle gives herself up to him willingly, nay, eagerly. The story is told with strong dramatic force and a power of expression that holds the reader till the last page is turned and the last sentence read. “The Eye-witness,” by J. P. ( Seabrooke. Another American murder mystery story. From the annual number of murder mysteries in Chicago alone, it is palpable that United States murderers are more ’cute, that her novelists, or her novelists’ detectives, are much more clever, than her secret service men, with the third degree thrown in. The story is good of its kind. “Connie Morgan With the Forest Rangers” is another of James. B. Hendryx’s “Connie Morgan" Wild West series, and well up to sample. “Dark Laughter,” by Sherwood Anderson. An old sin regilded, but to what purpose will puzzle the reader to tell. »