BOOKS AND BOOKMEN

Evening Star, Issue 20985, 26 December 1931, Page 14

BOOKS AND BOOKMEN

VERSES THE FIRST CHRISTMAS PAGEANT SHEPHERDS, & And what did you see, kind shepherds, [Watching your flocks by night?” Af An angel of God and glory, An host from the starry height!” A* And what did you hear, kind shepWhen skies were sparkling bright?” A voice of tidings most joyous, A promise of peace and light!” WISE MEN. " And what did you see, 0 Wise Men, Passing o’er hills afar?” i* A spectacle, strange, above us, In Eastern skies a star!” V And what did you hear, 0 Wise lien, When led to Christ by the star?” i* A voice in a dream, which told us That naught should bis kingdom mar!” »—Rev, Melville A. Shafer, in the Boston ‘Transcript.’ NOEL , ; (After the French of Theophile Gautier.) White the Earth and black the Heaven: , , . , Bing out, sweet bells, a. peal or joy I Mary, to whom a child is given. Turns her fair face upon the hoy. No tapestries of rare brocade To shield the tender babe she had; Only the webs that spiders made Hung down in dusty finery. Shivering upon the fragrant hay The little Jesus, Child Divine, Had hut, to warm him as he lay, The breathing of the patient kine. Below, the snow wreaths wrapped the byre; Above, the heavenly citadel Opened, and from the, angel ch oir The shepherds heard: “ Noel! Noel! —Michael Joyce. FOR CHRISTMAS And what do I want for Christmas ? Perfumes and jewels to wear ? . Nay, such were the gifts that kings bore . ' Who thought a King was there, When in the darkness, on the hay, A Babe in need of comfort lay. Then what do I want for Christmas? To watch a Star with you In wonder, still as the shepherds ; To hear songs fill the blue, And, dreaming of that Babe asleep, To have a child’s faith, sweet and deep! —Violet Storey, New York. AUTHORSHIP IH RUSSIA Some interesting information regarding authorship in Soviet Russia is given by Mrs Cecil Chesterton in her book, • * My Russian Venture,’ which was reviewed upder, ‘.New Books.’ After referring to the restrictions placed on the journalist in Russia, where the newspapers are owned. by the State and everything printed in them has to die coloured with Communist propaganda, she writes: “ The novelist is equally restricted. Romance is practically at a discount, its only possible exploitation being the triumph of the Soviet disciple over a Russian" of the old school, who, however, must inevitably be the villain. Thwarted passion between a mutually-attracted pair has no sympathy in the Union of Socialist Soviet Republics. The registrar of divorce and marriage unties every knot, and the man who loves and can get no response is usually a figure of amusement. Humour still remains, and with the bubbling sense of fun which breaks up the Russian melancholy .as the spring sunshine dissolves the ice the matrimonial laws are perpetually lampooned. ”, There is a good’market for short stories, but novels are less easy ..to place. The fate of a book is decided by the Soviet publishing boards, to .whom all manuscripts must be submitted. The theme rather than the writing is the chief consideration, and anything that detracts from the paramount importance of" the Government over individual interests, is not likely -to win out on {esthetic value. It the hoard turns down a book no other madiet is available. One firm s refusal may mean another’s consent in other countries;-in Russia the Soviet s deciskm is final! Th© same applies to plays or film stories. A Government hoard approves, or the reverse ; there is no second chance- On the other hand, the author receives his royalties punctually, and there is, no restriction on hi* receipts. But, like the journalist, there is little he can do with money, however much he earns, except invest it-in. State loans, and -even then he must , not have too large .» balance at the bank. It is not advisable, I was tpld, to have more than a thousand roubles "to . your . immediate credit. Hoarding is a criminal offence, and in the case of coins, liable to the extreme penalty,: • 1 All the’ famous Russian authors can be bought in cheap editions,, with the most popular European and American. There is no copyright in the Union of Socialist Republics, and the translations are, every one, pirated, so that best sellers add large sums to the Soviet exchequer year after year. Wherever we went we found pur Edgar Wallace; crooks and sleuths have a fundamental attraction quite apart from politics, and Ogpus, commissars, peasants, and workers all consume the one and only Edgar. Bernard Shaw, Hugh Walp°lo< John Galsworthy, Dreiser, Sinclair Lewis, all the literary giants are well represented. G. K. Chesterton is also very popular, with H, G. Wells. ‘‘Children’s books, as such, are not a feature of Russian literature. Fairy tales "of all descriptions are taboo, as being dangerously near religious topics! Fabulous-creatures of the imagination, elves or angels, magicians or prophets, are held in grave suspicion. The young mind must .not be tampered with. The dawning intelligence may, not be warped with foolish legends like Jack the Giant Killer or The Sleeping Beauty. Life for the little ones must he real and earnest, and woe to the man or woman who shall turn the babes and sucklings from the consideration of tractors, aeroplanes, or the vital necessity of the Five Years Plan! -

A LITERARY CORNER

POETRY AND THE PUBLIC In the ‘ American Mercury ' a lively editorial headed ‘ Market Report Poetry ’ suggests that American poets are not delivering the goods: “ The poets of America, like the farmer’s, are suffering from hard times, but it is not because of a dull market; their trouble is that they seem to be unable to make a crop. Fifteen or sixteen years ago, as everyone will recall, they did a very brisk business, and scarcely a . month went by without a new one homing into it, to great applause—Sandburg, Lindsay, Masters, Robinson, Frost, Amy Lowell, and so on. But to-day the survivors of that flush era write very little, and that little makes no stir, and there is a great dearth of talented newcomers. Since Robinson Jeffers I can recall but one debutant who has really gob any serious notice —to wit, Hart Crane. But Mr Crane’s dithyrambs are extremely difficult, not to say painful, to most consumers of poetry, and in consequence his following remains small. 1 offer a specimen from the ‘ New Republic ’: Ay! Scripture flee’th stone! Milk-bright, Thy chisel wind Rescindeth flesh from bone . To quivering whittlings thinned — Swept, whistling straw! It is plain here that something is being said, but just what it is is not so clear. In the days when there , were college yells one got much the same effect from them. My belief is that the overwhelming majority of poetry fans prefer something more pellucid, and so I fear that the author has, hard sledding ahead of him despite his earnestness, industry, and patriotism. If a new Masters or Frost or Sandburg were to arise to-morrow Crane .would be knocked off the board. Ho is safe only as long as he doesn’t haye to compete with poets writing in plain English. Even so, he may be safe for a long while, for, as I have, said, npt many such poets are now in practice, and there is little sign that any new ones are hatching. Most of the stuff that makes the bottoms of the magazine pages is even more baffling than Mr Crane’s. , ~ “ Why poetry should thus go on the rocks is a somewhat- mysterious matter for the American people are naturally poetical, as Rotary and Kiwams so brilliant! v demonstrate. There has never been a time in their history when they were not ready to cherish and venerate poets. In the last heydey of the craft—say, in 1915 or. thereabout— they bought poetry so copiously that a new volume of it often outsold the latest pornographic novel. If sound goods wore on the wharves to-day they would buy again, even at the cost of missing payments on their radios. But nothing is offered that they can get their teeth into They ask for something to make their hearts leap, and all they get is something that puzzles and scares them.” BUYING OF BOOKS THE ENTERTAINMENT VALUE. In his presidential address at the annual meeting of the National Book Council in London lately, Sir Charles Grant Robertson spoke on the wisp buying of books. Defining economy as the art of spending wisely, ho asked whether money spent on books was economy or extravagance. That depended entirely on whether they had the money and on tho kind of books T Jiey bought. They all knew the man or woman who said, “ I cannot afford to buy books,” and who borrowed and i ergot to return the book he or she could not afford to buy. If they went into the houses of those people they found that their annual bill for magazines—which did not go to the hospitals, but were thrown into the wast-paper basket or left in railway carriages—would enable them to buy a good many books, and in ten years to have quite a respectable little library. people told him they could not afford to buy books he believed them as little as if they told him they could not afford to eat dinner. It was a question of values; if their bodies were more important to them than their minds they would arrange their expenditure accordingly. Sir Charles said ho did not want to make' every one a bookworm or a pedant, for a nation composed of bookworms and pedants would go more speedily into the abyss of bankruptcy than a nation of unadulterated Philis tines; but he did want to convince as many people as possible that there was far more entertainment in books than they suspected, that that entertainment was better and cheaper than most conventional methods, and that wise spending on books was real economy. The right kind of books were indispensable to education in its true sense, for from the best books of ah kinds alone could they learn what the best minds had felt about and got out of life. Leisure spent upon them increased the efficiency of .the consumer. It was constantly said; added the speaker, that the National Book Council was simply a trade organisation <- those who wished to sell more of tho products of their trade. The Royal Academy or the Co-operative Grocers' Association was just as much a trade organisation. If the National Book Council encouraged the public to buy more or. better books through an organisation concerned with producing books, whore was the sin or tho shame? THE PLACE OF GALSWORTHY “ Above all things Galsworthy has the historical mind, writes Mr Hugh P. Austin, in the Dublin ‘Review,’ in a lengthy appreciation of Mr John Galsworthy. “That then is Galsworthy’s greatness, and shown particularly in tho Forsyte chronicle,” adds Mr Austin. “ That ability to show a type and make him or her at tho same time an individual, and to show his characters in perfect relationship to tho period so that it may bo said that the man is typical of his time and the time represents the man. “ And I think tho work has been achieved because Galsworthy has realised that neither extreme is ever typical of its time. Between the champagne and the homely cup of tea there is a vast body that has its virtues and its vices, its enthusiasms that are not too pronounced, and its aversions for which it can find often an amount of pity, its ideals and its little contentments, and it is that majority which in

the end makes its atmosphere and moulds the history of the period. “ A mocker mocked at the Victorian horsehair sofa. That the sofa was ugly may be granted, but the sofa was representative of its time, it was like the people who sat on it, and it had therefore an historical if not an aesthetic merit. The mocker was an extreme, ‘ full of wind and fury signifying nothing.' “ For those who desire brilliance of epigram and the sensation produced by eroticism and cynicism the work of John Galsworthy will have little meaning or attraction. For those, however, who believe in characterisation, in atmosphere that is sincere and that melts into the characterisations, for those who have an interest in times that are passing now and will soon be of historical importance only, for those to whom there is something appealing in the everyday life of everyday people shown with a graciousness that shows a sympathy and an understanding both for shortcomings and for over-expression, for those who see a virtue in moderation and in a carefulness of craft, there will be a love for the people whom Galsworthy has given us. “ There will also be a sincere meed of admiration for a creator who within the limits of a large-hearted common sense has mirrored the characteristics of a great part of his country in the persons of a few carefully-chosen characters without blame, without favour, without ostentation, but firmly and with courage. “ Galsworthy has claimed only to mirror the upper middle class, but we may grant him more than that; he may be said to have mirrored England itself within the period ho has chosen. Leaving aside the minor point of exterior manners and forms of speech, the soul of England can be seen as much in the little details and the minor characters as in the full-length portraits, for that to-have-and-to-hold spirit permeates every class of society, just as morals are not peculiar to one section of the community, but aro common property. As Rudyard Kipling puts it: * The colonel’s lady and Judy O’Grady are sisters under their skins.’ “So when we admit Galsworthy s claim we admit that claim on a far wider basis, and our admittance means that we have been given a piece of literature that is already classic and that will endure.” NEW BOOKS A HEW ZEALAND CHRONOLOGY In our leader columns we have referred to Mr George Finn’s useful book < Datus—a Chronology of New Zealand From the Time of the Moa. Ihe chronology consists roughly of 120 pages, facing 120 others of amplifying articles on such subjects as A The Coming of the Maori,’ ‘Tasman’s Visit, ‘The Discovery by Cook,’ ‘ First Maori to Visit London,’ ‘ The First Plough, ‘The Maungatapu Murders,’ Ihe Cawtbron Institute,’ ‘The Macarthy Trust.’ A list of places named by Captain Cook runs to 437, but omits Saddle Hill. Articles are given to each of the four chief cities. The detailed chronicle ends in 1910, to be completed in a second volume, but official lists are carried to the present __ date. The book, designed for popularity as much as for a work of reference, lias been compiled with a great deal of labour, but misprints are more numerous than they should be. Published by the National Printing Co. Ltd., Auckland. ACCIDENTAL ADVENTURER ‘ The Accidental Adventurer,’ by Sydney M. Parktnan (Hodder and Stoughton) is a capital tale of a South American revolution. The hero is Dick Trenchard, a sailor by profession, who, unable to get a job afloat, has found work in tho office of a firm of London merchants. Sent by his employers to make inquiries on a ship in tho docks, he is carried off when the vessel sails. Her cargo consists of arms for the revolutionaries. On landing in South America Trenchard is plunged into a series of exciting adventures, in the course of which he meets an English girl in peril. Much fighting occurs, but for Trenchard and Sheila the dangers are safely passed. This is a lively and entertaining tale. ROMANCE IN SOUTH SEAS ‘Ten Fathoms Deep,’ by Jesse Templeton (Ward Lock and Co. Ltd.). —Jesse Templeton has written a most absorbing story of adventure and romance in the south seas. His heroine is a white girl who has never been beyond the island on which she labours for her father as a pearl diver of remarkable skill. Into her none-too-happy life comes “Daffy” Woods, an unscrupulous scoundrel, who promises Mab’s father a share in some long-lost treasure m return for his daughter’s hand. The marriage takes place, and then in most dramatic fashion Jack Neville a shipwrecked officer, enters the story. Ho and Mab escape from the island, only to be cast ashore on that island in which lies hidden beneath the sea the long-lost treasure. Mab recovers it by means of her diving skill, and happiness seems in sight when “Daffy ” and Mab’s father once more enter the picture. Mab is carried off from her lover, and, giving up hope of ever again seeing him alive, sets out for England, whore she enters business. From .that stage onwards the story hastens to a happy conclusion. An interesting and enjoyable novel. THRILLING ADVENTURE STORY Thrill follows thrill in ‘ The Strange Citadel,’ a very fine story of adventure and love by Richard Spain (Herbert Jenkins Ltd). It is the story of a young man who has lost all his zest and desire for life, and when having determined on suicide, sets out to enjoy his last night of life. It was a strange trick of Fate that made him enter a shop in the West End of London, there to purchase a speckled carnation. It was this choice which altered the whole of his outlook on life, and which revived in him his desire to live. How love came to him and bow ho passed through numerous perils to the happiness that eventually awaited him makes a story that is intensely exciting. Unlike so many of these stories of European intrigue, tho author does not indulge iu exaggeration for tho sake of effect. His tale is simply and chattily told, and in itself is ono of the most absorbing of its kind that lias come this way for some time. Our copy is from the publishers.

NOTES Dr Herbert H. E. Oraster, Fellow of All Soula, has been elected librarian at the Bodleian Library, Oxford, in succession to the late Dr A. E. Cowley. Mr Reid Dick, the sculptor, has left London for the Victoria Falls, Rhodesia, where he will choose a site for the memorial statue of Livingstone which he is to execute. The statue will probably be in bronze, and will take two years to complete. Miss Alice Buchan, who has written a first novel, is a daughter of Colonel John Buchan, Thus there are now three literary members of this family, the third being Colonel Buchan’s sister, who has written many popular books under the pen-name ot * 0. Douglas.”

Miss Carols Oman, whose novel of the Peninsular War, ‘ Major Grant,” recently appeared, is tho daughter of Sir Charles Oman, tho famous historian, who has been M.P. for Oxford University since 1919. Last year she published an historical novel entitled 5 Crouchback,’ and before that she wrote two novels under the pen-name of “C. Lenanton.”

“ When people tell me that they cannot afford to buy books,” said Sir Charles Grant Robertson, Vice-chancel-lor of Birmingham University, at tho recent annual general meeting of the National Book Council, “ I believe them as little as if they told me they cannot afford to eat dinner. I want to convince as many people as I can that wise spending on books is real economy.”

Miss Rosita Forbes, whose bravery has never been questioned, feeling the urge to write a novel about everyday people and things, went to live for a time with a lower middle-class family in order to get the right atmosphere. The result of this extraordinary experience is to bo _ found in a novel from her hand published by Messrs Cassell. It is called ‘ Ordinary People.’

Mr R. W. Thompson, whose first book, ‘ Argentine Interlude,’ described his experiences on a remote South American cattle ranch, waa-a marine broker at Lloyd’s until, at the age of 21, ho threw up his job and went to sea on an old tramp steamer. Afterwards ho found it impossible to settle down in England, so sailed for Australia. He worked on a New South Wales sheep station and in Sydney as a salesman and as a broker. He worked his passage back to England as assistant butcher’s mate on a third-class liner. Now he is writing a book on his Australian adventures.

Lord Crewe’s ‘ Life of Lord Rosebery ’ is likely to be one of the most important of recent political biographies. Lord Rosebery’s fame began when he was comparatively a young man. At the age of 27 he was president of the Social Science Congress, at 31 he was Lord Rector of Aberdeen University, and at 33 Lord Rector of Edinburgh. Before he was 40 he was appointed Secretary for Foreign Affairs, and at 47 he became Liberal Prime Minister on Mr Gladstone’s retirement. Lord Crewe, who has written the biography, is Lord Rosebery’s son-in-law, and was his colleague in public life and his intimate friend and adviser.

Sir Charles Oman, the historian, has written a boo’-, ‘ The Coinage of England,’ which covers the whole history of the subject. His narrative starts with the Anglo-Saxon coinage of about 400 a.d., with its crude, ugly coins, and proceeds t trace the various steps, such ns the introduction of the penny by Offa (757-796), the disgraceful coinage issues of King John, the great recoinage of Edward 1., the permanent gold currency of Edward 111., and so to the expedients of Henry VIII., the personal interest of James 1., the niggling of Queen Elizabeth, and the suggested decimal penny of Queen Victoria. Collectors will probably find the book a necessity, but there appears to be much also to interest non-tcohnical readers.

Stratford-on-Avon has known no more novel intrusion of modern natural science than the flood-lijghting of Shakespeare’s birthplace and of Holy Trinity Church as part of the celebration of the Faraday centenary. Sixteen powerful lamps with a total light output of 200,000 beam candles were planted upon tho roof of the church, and seen from the river the effect was beautiful, tho tower and fts slender spire rising above silhouetted trees. At the birthplace the effect was no less impressive, tlvo facade receiving a flood of light from a battery of lamps installed on the Coach and Horses Inn opposite.

In his new .book, ‘Music at Night,’ Mr. Aldous Huxley attributes primarily tho arrogance of low-brows to-day, and tho sycophancy of high-brows, to universal education, a tree only planted fifty years ago. Its first fruit, he says, has been contempt for culture. “ When culture was confined to a few, it had a rarity valuo comparable to pearls or caviar.” But “ when finally tho Many were given tho education which, when it was confined to tho Few, had seemed so precious, so magically efficacious, they found out very quickly that the gift was not worth quite so much as they had supposed—that, in fact, there was nothing in it. And, indeed, for the great majority of men and women, there obviously is in culture. Nothing at all—neither spiritual satisfaction nor social rewards.”

The original autograph manuscript of Sir _ James Barrie’s ‘Little Minister ’ is being offered for sale in America by Mr Gabriel Wells. Air Wells bought the manuscript of 490 pages, less 80 pages which were missing. To procure a complete copy Air Wells visited Sir James Barrie and arranged with him to write again tho missing pages. Tho task occupied six w<vks. Small as it is, tho handwriting i f Sir James to day is larger than dien ho completed ‘The Little Minister' fcity years ago. Tho missing pages have been written on paper of tho same size, quality, and colour as tho original. Air Wells has informed tho newspapers that ho cannot disclose tho sum he paid to Sir'James Barrie for writing the lost pages, but he says that L was more than the amount he is asking for the completed manuscript. .