TOO MOBILE
, (Written by Maby Scott, for the • ' Evening Star.') Why, do so many of our novelists overwork their heroines' faces? This was lately brought home to me when, marooned for a night in a house that was practically bookless, I glanced through a novel of the third-rate order,, and was immediately struck by the number of cliches with which the author had generously besprinkled the pages., But most of all,, I was amazed at the mobility of her heroine's face. In the course of a few chapters this gifted girl had strained her ears, :wrinkled her nose, raised her eyebrows (Some nine times), and curled her lip disdainfully. Yet she was described as having "an almost old-fashioned dignity -and repose." Nor was there any mention of her as a contortionist. Having been thus- impressed by the restlessness of one heroine's features, inevitably I found myself watching for similar peculiarities in the books of far more reputable writers. I came to the conclusion that one expression that is worked to death, both in the spoken and the written word, is " turning a hair-."'l also am guilty, for almost invariably I caught myself saying that Pfiscilla had not turned a hair under extreme provocation, in one of those crises with which my young friend's meteoric career is liberally beset. At once 1, was struck by the absurdity of the expression, for what well-coiffured modern girl could possibly turn a hair with any ease at all? Nowadays every curl, does its duty, every hair has its own appointed place. If there is apparent disorder, 'there is yet a very deliberate effect, and no one would be more annoyed than Priscilla if her latest arid most expensive "perm'.' should betray her thus. Yet, despite . its illogicality in 1946, the expression " not to turn a hair." has an aptness of its own. It does, succeed in giving an impression of , unruffled calm, and was coined in a day when women's hair had more freedom lo trim, or even to stand on end. / It must, however, be itoted in passing that these ultra-calm peonle who refuse to turn the traditional hair are often complete frauds. That gentle yoice s that demeanour of extraordinary qiyet, presuppose a placidity that is of ten ' not there at all. One of *my closest friends has a reputation for unruffled calm that is in reality completely absent. Her own husband tells me that he has never, in the course, of a long married life, heard raise her, voice. All her friends say. " But then A. is so very placid." implying, along with a certain admiration, an undeniable patronage for one who lacks the highly-6trung nervous systehi of her critics, and will therefore' know, neither the heights nor the depths of emotional experience. As a matter of fact, A. is not in the, slightest ■ like this. She goes through private agonies,olf anxiety and fear, but her own rigid code will not''allow her to.;inflict, her moods upon anyone else. Lately she,confessed to me, on ah occasion when her husband was delayed for many hours in the country by tyre trouble, and ultimately returned at dawn instead of at 10 p.m., that she had, during those sleepless hours, not only faced the fact that he was dead, but.had buried him, inscribed,his tombstone, and. decided that she would keep everything in their home just as it was, " that I wouldn't even.let anyone kill the hens, however old they grew, because he had once liked them." Since I was aware of the extraordinary maturity of her poultry, this resolution particularly impressed me, and I-knew that she had indeed faced the worst. But, at the same time I was certain that, when her husband did eventually return, she. would greet him With complete calm and merely remark that, since he must be starved,, she would, make a , cup of tea at once. Indeed, in my own experience, thesle women who present an unruffled -front to: the'world are often seething volcanoes of emotion underneath the surface; thev are rather more proud than the?rest"of .us; and will -'' turn no hair." for anyone to see. . V...vßut,' to return for a moment to our overworked another expression thai .strikes me as peculiarly inept, when applied to a heroine of 1946, is this perpetual raising of eyebrows. The modern girl has so very little eyebrow to,raise; that thin plucked line may gyrate,. . but its movements are almost imperceptible. Still less is this iiosaible for the deplorable painted line which some girls have unaccountably substituted for Nature's more generous arid becoming endowment. Modern eyebrpws are there to stay, not to rise at tile wearer's will, and this Victorian rnVthod of expressing scorn or, surprise must be denied to many of the up-torthe-minute maidens of to-day. Indeed,, many writers are far too rash in .their use and abuse of their heroines' features. The author, with whose hook I began this article, allowerl her lady's eyes perpetually to 'flash, to melt: and to* dance.. They also,widened on'every page until one wondered what size they reached by the end of tho tele. Be it noted, incidentally, that this was no Edwardian narrative; looking back in considerable doubt to the tifst page, I saw . that it was first published in 1942. and had already run ftito three editions—-so, apparently the novel-reading public likes its characters to have St. Vitus's dance. But it must be the charm of novelty, for what eyes with . which you are personally acquainted have ever been seen to flash, melt, arid-dance in untiring iteration for many hours? As a matter of fact, romparatively few eyes hold a great, possibility of change of. expression, or run' the" gamut of changing emotions n-t all easily. The eves that flash seldom 'lance or melt, and on the whole usosl of us neither widen nor narrow our eyes with every change in the conversation. , ' .
More incredible still is the expression, met in a modern and highhrnw short story, "John cocked his pars." I should have, liked to see, liiro do it. since I have never entirely lost my youthful admiration for those low and gifted people who are able to ''.work their ears." But even this muscular action, rare though it is, is a poor affair,compared to " cocking " ; what power the possession of this trick must have bestowed upon John, and how disconcerting it must have been for his friends to talk to a man whose ear* were liable at any moment to cof,kl . n u J I have never personally been an admirer of statuesque beauty; the more expressive the human face, the .nore interesting and delightful I find it. But a course of study of our literature, devoted entirely to the vagaries of its heroines' faces, has definitely inclined me to favour something more restful. I find myself studying a pretty girl apprehensivelv, hoping that her hair will not stand on end. her nose tilt or her lip curl disdainfully when she sees me; that her pretty little oars will remain fla't against her head, nor cock at my word, and that'her cheek will. neither pale nor redden. As :t matter of fact, the last contingency does not worry me greatly, since most of my young- friends see to it that both their complexions and their hair obey their bidding, and do'not change with their emotions.
Menl Sharland's Benzoin and Almond Lotion affords real shaving pleasure.. Protects skin, keeps it soft and healthy. All chemists. Sharland and Co. Ltd., 12 Dowling street, wholesale distributors.—fAdvt.l
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ESD19460126.2.122
Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 25701, 26 January 1946, Page 10
Word Count
1,250TOO MOBILE Evening Star, Issue 25701, 26 January 1946, Page 10
Using This Item
Allied Press Ltd is the copyright owner for the Evening Star. You can reproduce in-copyright material from this newspaper for non-commercial use under a Creative Commons New Zealand BY-NC-SA licence. This newspaper is not available for commercial use without the consent of Allied Press Ltd. For advice on reproduction of out-of-copyright material from this newspaper, please refer to the Copyright guide.