LITERARY COLUMN.

Evening Post, Volume LXVII, Issue 150, 25 June 1904, Page 11

LITERARY COLUMN.

NUW BOOKS Al>'D NKW EDITIONS. "A Girl Among Ih • An.uelnsts." Hy ''Label Mcicdith." With a preface hy AlOilcy lvoboilh. London: Duckwoitli and Co. This is no ordinary novel. It is a book of moro than usual intciest to tho &tmlout of &oc;al ]>henomenn, e&pocially those of a morbid character. Its value lies in its truthfulness, its bimplicity, and its direclnebs, combined with n know ledgo of anarchism, its thcorius and ideals, iLs methods und its piopngundj, such us could have been obtained only from within. Characteristic types are set foith, and though tho names uro fictitious, the identity of some of the clinractei.s* is not coucealcd from those avlio have a fair ucquuin.tanco with tho iubjoot. Tho book is to a largo extent autobiographical. Tho author's education was a fctrungo ono; and tilled with vague, theories of social rcgcuciation and with the enthusiasm of 3011 th sho devoted her fortune nnd two or tlneu yeuis of her life to "the euufco," becoming editor of tho nnarchisl organ in London, and entering into cloio at.socia.lion with the leaders of the movement. In bo bt range an environment il must not bo easy to retain one's mental balance ; one alter another ot hex* friends und as>sociutes gradually diiflccl into various lunns of tn&umty ; nnd when, through flight and deseition of colleagues and t>emire of tho printing depaument by the police, her work 011 tho "Tocsin" ceased, she tina.ly abandoned "the placo which had witnessed bo much enthusiasm, so ninny generous tliopcs nud übpu'utions, und where so many illusions ivy buiicd;" and "walked forth into the London street a rudder if c wiser \\ omnn." In a brief picfnee, Mr. Moiley Roberts, himself n, plnlobophic amuchiht, iutioduocs the wuUt. lie had himself bcun a "Tocbiu" contributor. "I have," ho says, "handled the pre^s and discus-cd details (which did not include bombs) with the editor"." "There in nothing in the book which is invented," be assures v**-"the whole thing is nn oxporienco told very biurply." Tho sporadic outrages of a distrnetive. and murderous kind, generally believed to bo decided upon iv meetings of conspirators, are, it scorns, almost invariably the work of somo individual fanatic, who has taken no one into his confidence. Among men with the peculiar mental twist which characterises the paily, mutual confidonco is almost impossible.. One of the loaders, "Oiannoli," had un intense horror of plots or conspii'ucß'S. "WhuL fools we are," ho said, "ever to foeT any confidence in any ono 1 We are no longer freo men wthen we have dono this — we nro slaves." The book is ono which is worthy of careful study. Tho writer, though sho hns realised tho impracticability of tho ideal, has not lost sympathy with tho dreamers and destructives with whom sho for a time cast in her lot. Enough is revealed to show that, uuralrnined, they would mnko the world a madhouse and a pandemonium — that, however good their ultimate intentions or mild their personal characters, they nro a menace to society nt largo, and that, simply in self-defence, society is warranted in restraining their activities even if it bo inadvisable to attoinpt to suppress their propaganda. "What. We Drenm." By Frances Hnrrod (Frances Forbes Robertson). London : Duckwoith and Co. . A singular book concerning "drenmern," by one who i 8 herself mystic nnd dreamer, Tho feceno is laid in a remote mountain . village in Italy, in a condition of society which to modem' ideas' is curiously anachromistic. Tho costume, 'tho domc«ric und social customs, the amusements, the

PUpor.stttions of tho peihantK- thojr very iiiduslrici of \\<-.i\ing iind iepoii v irt work in bv,is>. — lu'long In v pic-Cnii.ti.in ci.i. 'lluit- uuwuiifii soii^r unit nifloilics an. of hnaiy antiquity, tlic.r \cry dances aid boleinu tuuolioi'ii whenjin ilu old turouiontcs uf the sji.ir \\i>it,lun aio iiunctiliously observed. Illiterate-, but with the traditional culluio of an ancient civilisation, they uro proud of their ancient lincigo. Ki> hint of locality in i!^ bI1 » but tho author seems to ha\e iliayed far out. of tho boutuii track and lo havo studied her lhukground from life. Tin ro is a complex love tragedy, in which fuic man and two women aio mvohed. (.Jiui dteain.s thut gojd i& all in all, and ii:s boirothcd, Shula,, who unexpectedly mhorits wealth, dixiams thai, the cmi recover tho love which has pushed to another, by doweling him with her fovlune. The live luadiug oliaiacleiii — for there i« nlt-o.a bonovolunt old piicst/ and a ricli and conical inlidcl, reputed to bri iicnd-]io^-NOhted — uro clearly but laboriously defined. The autlioi'h is rambling, nnd hor sentencos almost interminable. Rising at times to eloquence, it descends into baihos with tonic iiKongruous colloquialism. Yet, with ninny delect of structure and dirlioulties of btylo to tax tho iouder'B patience, tho book m ouo of coiiiklcral/le originuliiy and power. "Tho Vnllcy of Wild Hyacinths, or Oernld in Thoatroluud." A Fai.'iasticnl Drcainfable. Ily Balcony biall. London : Uiucning und Co. Tho purpose of this little book of a bundled' und thirty pages would hu\o bean absolutely incomprehensible had tho i.ii» thor not bcon good enough to give, ii. four prefatory page«, "a leuson — pcihnpn not uppaivnl'iit lii^t sight— for this medley ot noiiicnsc, this chuotie assembly oJ sentences."' He says that never in tho history of tho drama has* it fallen co low — not iv morals, but in the chtuncU'r ol plays., in tho excellence of acting. Thd miiiAic-liallß havo s>o encrouched on tho functions ot tho theatre, that tho playgoer ih unable to recognise whether ho has entered a theatie, or strayed into a muMc-hidl. It is> the result, he holdu, of divorcing Art. fiom Life; we arc gniuff us far as pospiblo "towards dcst inking -all individuality, and towaids turning out men and women as wo tin a «>ufc scieuv. ' The case, ?-o presented, is worthy of respectful consideration, though wo scft nothing very deplorable in the fact that tired folk go to the theativ "not for art's sake, but to bo umused, to bo wafted away to another world." This, it mny be, is better thun tho alternative home would urge — to spend three hours investigating nn imaginary psychological "problem" of moral decadence and physical disease. The preface alone, as a four-pngo leatlct, says all and more than tho "dream," which the dreamer himsolf hns only too well described. Wo recognise thut, us "Iho clockfaced tree," The Times is glided at, and we traco a carieutiucd outline of purl of ono of Mr. J. M. JJarrift'n pupulur comedies, but from chapter 1., "The Beginning, to chapter XII., "The End," tho book i« amorphous, incoherent, und unintelligible

As might be expected, thc 'war element is holding sway in tho Japanese theatre* just now. At Kubukiza Theatre in Tokio the naval fights nt Port Arthur aro included in a pl.iy which is called "The Rurco-Jnpnno.se War." At Uic Miynto/.a ii play is being performed called "Tho Ku*siiiii'« Japanese Wife," showing how, believing her country was in danger, the woman secured n secret map of llu.**.inn fortifications and (strongholds in Manchurin. Similar plays ur^ being produced nt otlier tlieutres in tho metropolis. At tho Tvmmnsisa, U.naka, a military production entitled "Conwriplion" ia being nliiycd. M.r. Huddon Chambers, nftcr Ins compioto failure in "Tho Golden SlMico," which was generally dccliired not to bear any trace of tho hand whkh prodtned "Tho Tyranny J Tears," has taken to tho facile nnd profitable art of adapting plnys from tho French. Ho bnb mndc a beginning with "Lo Dutoui " of M. Bernstein, which hu has adapted for Mi 33 Annie Rvssell in New York.