THE BOOKMAN

Evening Post, Volume CI, Issue 49, 26 February 1921, Page 15

THE BOOKMAN

AUSTRALUN POKTRY'. ■ I

"Poems of Roderic Quinn" and "Son-

nets of Shakespeare's Ghost." Sydney : Angus and Eoberteon (Ferguson and Osborn, Wellington.) "The Australiau Poetry Annual, 1920." Melbourne: The Literary Club. Three books of Australian verse, and all three proving that, no matter how unsympathetic the larger reading public may be, the true Australian poet pipes in the market place, unresponsive as the children may be. This collection of Quinh's verse is remarkable for the sincerity of the man, his natural lyrical gifts, his close observance and faithful recording of things seen in tho bush and by the sea, and his wonderfully graphic description of them; also his pow-sr to make the telling of them auund like a song. Here is a tiuthful and delicately-drawn picture—

All night a noise of leaping fish Went round the bay, And up and down the shallow sands / Sang waters at their play. The mangroves drooped in salty creeks. And through the dark, Making a pale patch in the deep, Gleamed, as it swam. a. shark. Quinn's gift of imagery is seen in the opening poem of this collection, "Tho Hidden Tide,' where toilers have strange gain and joss-

Dragging the deeps of soul for pearls. And ofttlmes netting dross.

It is a powerful poem in its way, and represents the insight of a man who sees and knows that there is far more in life than merely having "a good time." One wonders, on reading "Red Mist," the story of a jilted girl, "The Hidden. Heart," and some others, if Quinn does not owe much to the love and minstrelsy of his ancestors. The two poems named read as if they had been sung ■ by some passing troubadour in Ireland, sheltering in a cabin with windows looking out on a wild, grey sea,, and ,tho peat xoek tingling in the eyes. But the spell of the Australian is on him too, for he evidently felt the influence of tho soene where— The. whites quartz glitteringl on the umber track, ' The claypans cracked and bare; The poised hawk, hanging like a menace black In middle air; The wonder of tho spacious plain and sky, The splendour of it all; The all that is not—so wide and high, And I so small! Finally there is a stirring, virile religious note in Quinn's verse. He is no scoffer at the Almighty, nor holds Him in contempt by over familiarity, as the manner of some is. Quinn's religion is sincere, and it is the religion of a. man express6d in thought a-nd word and deed. "The Sonnets of Shakespeare's Ghost" aro attributed to "P.M 1- the onlie begetter'of these insuiiig sonnets." The words ai-3 stated to havoieen procured by Gregory Thornton, and "never before imprinted." Speculation will no doubi be made on the identity cif F.M. _It would not be surprising if the initiaJa arc those of a brilliant writer, well known in New Zealand. The profess-ed -reason of the sonnets is to givo expression to the spirit of William Shakespeare, which is- "sore vexed of them who say that in'his sonnets he -writ not froSn "the trut'i.of his heart but from the toyings of his brain, and that he devised but a feigned object to fit a feigned affection." The ghost of Shakespeare hers makes answer. After chiding th« sceptics, the ghost of the poet asks— But wherefore say men so, and do dear wrong To thee -whose worth was my'Eole argument, To me, whose verse 'twas truth alone made strong By that die breast must tell, not brain Invent? • 'In tweU-e sonnets of much grace and high literary quality the invoked ghost is made to sho? how Shakespeare wrote of one who lived and walked in his day and-comvnanded his purest love" and unfeigned loyalty. Steps straying from virtuous path are not denied ; but the pencable ffhost offers bo excuse, only, with hanging head and down-dropped hands, cryirfg— 0 let love grant excuse, my sensual part Dwelt ever far from pure untainted tliee; It held no conversation with my heart, Scr, usd or check'd, could be thine injury. Zf once it triumph'd, carrying me away, It stole but earth; my soul did with thee stay. The sonnets as a whole are a graceful tribute to pure and constant love. "The Australian Poetry Annual" contains some of the best work of such well-known Australian and New Zealand writers of verse as Maurice Turnley, Jessie Mackay, Frederick T. Macartney, C. A. Gordon-Camming, Dulcie Dearaer, Hubert Church, Sydney Partridge, Bernard O'Dowd, and Mary Gilmore. The selection has been made by tbs Melbourne Literary Club, and evidently made with wisdom and care. There is a bibliography as appendix. It is good to see the songs of Australasian singers thus preserved. A hieh. standard has been attained in the Christmas numbers of the English maeazines, all of which have now reached New Zealand. The publishers have not relaxed their efforts to regain for the English magazines theirj old prestige and popularity, which suffered somewhat during the strenuous years of war, when the American publications made a lot of headway. Most of the well-known writers of to-day are regular contributors to the English magazines, which, despite price-increaaes necessitated by the much higher, cost of'production, are in greater demand tha-n they have been for a' considerable time. French translators (says the Athenaeum) have recently committed) more than one crime in' rendering an English title. Did not Mr. Wells's "Mr. Britling Sees It Through," appear as "M. Britling commences a wir clair"? —a •rendering which showed a misunderstanding of English idiom serious enough to make us very sceptical of the text of the translation.

Mr. Arnold Bennett," in. "Mental Efficiency," just published', holds moderating views on ambition. "Quito 70 per cent, of ambition is never realised, and 90 per cent, of all realised ambition is fruitless." Mr. Bennett support Benjamin Franklin's autobiography or "From Log, Cabin to White 1 House" without nausea, and of more mod«ra expositions of success by millionaires and the like, he says : "No one is a worse guide to success than your typical business man. _ He seldom understands the reason of his own success." But when he is asked to explain if in a magazine, he writes 1 what he knows, is expected from him : "If he "didn't come to London with half a crown in his pocket, he probably did something equally silly, and he puts that down, a,nd tho note of the article or interview is struck, and good-bye to genuine truth." Mr. Beiinetfc thinks that the genuine truth about success is that it depends more on the practice of the humbler virtues. Of 'jouvse he recognises the success of sheer high merit, but h-o describes its frequency as only 10 per cent, of all successes. . .

John Galsworthy's description of Solio, in his In-test novel® "In Chancery " ■'—"Untidy, fut) of Groeks, Ishmaelites, cats, Italians, tomatoes, restaurants, orgar.s, people looking out of upper windows, it. dwells remote from the British Body Politic, yet has it haphazard proprietary instincts of its own. and a certain possessive proprietary which keeps its. rents up when those of other quarters co down."