BOOK NOTES

Manawatu Standard, Volume LVII, Issue 158, 5 June 1937, Page 15

BOOK NOTES

“DAVID OF JUDAH.”

A TRAGIC DRAMA

i “David of Judah” (by Richard Blaker). —Written n the manner of a modern novel this is a fine description ' qf some of the most thrilling passages in Biblical history. It • tells of the swift descent of the Philistines upon i the tribe of Judah, and of the “rac- ■ keteering” they established over the i neighbouring peoples, until there grew 1 up, as in the days of Moses, the spirit of revolt, and “the mumblings • of toothless old Eli in the rock-girt sanctuary at Shiloh, and the nervous exhortations of young Samuel, his acolyte, became confused with the rancour in the hearts of simple poor men at the way they were being swindled and done.” But a smile began to appear again upon the withered lips of Eli, and he heard a rumble as of the tide of the sea. To him it was the voice of Jehovah herding the children together in a great rally of courage and desperation. Rally they did, revolt they did, and were beaten, but Samuel, heavy with thought, withdrew to Ramah, high above the Jebusite stronghold in the hills of Ephraim. It came to pass that he found and sought out the jewan Saul, the son of Kish, as their leader. He was acclaimed King and led the tribesmen of Judea into victorious battle against the Ammonites. Then, the spadework of his Empire-building completed, Saul gave his mind to the refinements, but luxury did little good to a physique that had been nurtured upon frugality, and he was haunted by the words of the prophet Samuel, who again sought a leader. His choice fell upon the poet-shepherd David, no mere stripling, but a strong sinewy youth, who became Saul’s harp-player. With the weakness qf Saul grew the strength of the Philistines until the “swaggering gangster of Gath,” Goliath, strode forth challenging the champions of Israel to combat, while his own side snickered at his roarings, and the abuse which be hurled upon his enemies. David, spurning coat and mail, used his sling temporarily to blind the charging Goliath before tripping him with a wrestler’s foot and despatching him with his own sword. It was a ease of quickness—as would have been said centuries later —on the trigger. So the repute of David as a soldier was established, but Saul grew uneasy and then mad with an insane desire to remove the man who had displaced him as the favourite of the people. Twice lie sought to slay David with a javelin, but easy living had made his hand unsteady. He made him his son-in-law, next outlawed, and finally pursued him, but David twice surprising him at night, spared his life, j though “hunted like a tlea, a dog, a! partridge.” Saul in the end knew] himself to he beaten by a careless i grace and courage that had never been 1 his or any other man’s —a confidence—like Samuel’s, in God. Finally Saul’s spirit was broken, bis shoulders droop-! ed, and tears blinded bis eyes as be said, “Blessed be thou, my son, David.” Saul’s army was routed by the Philistines, but David broke the Philistine hordes and then the sneering Jebusites; establishing his kingship. and solidified the Israelites, but lie sinned. There followed the pathos of the sinner exposed and broken, but God had a tender spot for the charm of His champion’s blithe cocksnreness turned suddenly to contrition und wistful humility. God saw that David had well and truly taken his medicine. His first son of BetliSheba died, but tlie second was born Solomon.—Published by Nisbet and Co., Ltd. (London), this remarkable book, which is beautifully bound, was forwarded for review by Messrs G. Id. Bennett and Co., Ltd., of Palmerston North. The book will be widely read.

“THE WINDING ROAD UNFOLDS.”

Of books concerning tlie Great War in nil its aspects there lias been no dearth ; the majority have served their purpose well, occasionally there bus been a work of outstanding merit. In the latter category “The Winding Road Unfolds” undoubtedly must occupy an

honoured place, both for its sheer literary merit, the poignancy and veracity with which it tells its story, and for the almost unbelievable youthfulness of an author who could depict his experiences so skilfully and convincingly. To the reader who was at the Somme and survived the Cnmbrai retreat in Detl cember, 1917, this amazing book will a ring true in every page. Only when n the last line is read is the significance s of the dedication adequately visualised e and the breadth of the writer’s concepn tion appreciated—“To the volunteers under military age of all the belligerent e countries who served 1917-1918.” Pubv lished for the first time in March of e this year, this remarkable record is s the expansion of the actual diary of t a young Scots private in the Ypres s salient in 1917—15 years of age when s he joined (officially he was 19) and only e 17 when lie was invalided home after r being wounded in the Cambrai retreat. _ The .actual period covered is only six 0 months, but Thomas Suthren Hope, uiis der the guise of “Jock,” sees it through f under the most terrifying conditions s and recounts his experiences in a mane ner that cannot fail to profoundly disf turb the serious reader. He spares no y feelings, but paints the picture of war \ faithfully—its devastation, the horror , of its gas attacks, the inhumanity of e its bombing parties and bayonet ntf tacks, the cruelty of its flamethrowers e and gas bombs, and always the relent- , less toll it levies on friend and foe e alike. He disturbs most when he pors trays his bitter disillusionment in cons trast with earlier patriotic fervour—a , contrast which he emphasises does not ; imply. disloyalty but a frank facing of 3 horrible reality in the midst of the 1 slaughter of humanity on Flanders 1 fields. “For all time war has been I stripped of its false glory and revealed , as something fold and obscene, bestial 5 and uncivilised. Surely there must lie 1 some other means of settling disputes ! in the future.” But this is not merely ; a cavalcade of death, for it contains : unexpected flashes of keen philosophy ■ born of a perception always undimmed, and for this aspect alone constitutes ' an intensely human document that will | simply not bo set down until the con- ' elusion is reached. After having shared 1 the comradeships, horror, and lighter side of the drama of 1917 with the author, one is impelled to believo him entirely when lie asserts in the final few lines: “Whatever is before me and whatever life brings, I must always lie a better man for having known these things and lived with such mo' 1 ,” and the reader realises that lie inc" * as the German warrior equally with too Ally. “The Winding Bond Unfolds” constitutes a most remarkable piece of writing, one which the veteran of the j Somme wi 11 read comprehending]}’ and j which present-day youth will ponder thoughtfully. Our ropy is from Messrs G. H. Bennett and Co., and the book is published by Putnam and Co., Lonj don. | ' “THE DOOR IX THE WALL.” ! Charneck, a picturesequc little town high up in the mountains of Central Europe, holds carnival on cue night of ■ every year—this is called the “Night of Flowers.” Phillip Mesurier Markham had waved farewell to his friends that morning, and made up his mind to spend a solitary fortnight amongst the mountains, fraternising with the peasants, whoso primitive strength and simplicity attracted him strongly after the sophistication of his social life in London. He was a very rich young man. But his dream of peaceful solitude was rudely shattered. Mingling with the crowds of villagers at the carnival, lie became conscious of undercurrents. Certain men looked at ln'm scnrchingly; a woman lured him through a door in a high wall and spoke to him strangely. Already Phillip lmd had an adventure. A queer little man, obviously starving, had invaded his room and eaten his supper, and, before be could finish it, lie had been shot at and killed. These incidents involved our hero in a series of discoveries so amazing as to be almost incredible, Becoming involved in a cafe brawl, and rescued by a watchful waiter, ho was led by mysterious passages, past a mirror which swung liko a door,- into a linen cupboard which instantly, became a lift, into the presence of Baikie, “the man without fun, without friends, without fear.” From this man, an Englishman of rank,

he gathered that dangerous plans were afoot in this remote spot. He was reminded of Sarajevo and August, 1914, He was told of “The Road,” an organisation 'run on secret service lines, which operated throughout Europe and involved men and women of all types and occupations. From that moment Phillip abandoned bis desiro for peace and quiet. His subsequent adventures provide a fine tale of danger and excitement. Mr MeynelPs book, which is entitled “The Door in the Wall,” is well written and unusual.

“CONSPIRATORS AT LARGE.” According to the best adventure fiction, an Englishman roaming around in the Balkans is almost bound to encounter excitement. But when the Englishman i,s a Secret Service man, and when Albania is the particular spot he chooses for his roaming, then thrills, intrigue and sudden death are inevitable. Stephen Maddock has not failed to realise this in his latest Timothy Terrell story, “Conspirators at Large.” The thrills, intrigue and sudden death all appear, in that order, in the first three chapters and, from its beginning in a deserted Albanian inn, the yarn moves swiftly through a sequence of hazards from which the Englishman, naturally enough, emerges triumphant after foiling the agents of a Power which is plotting to add the eastern side of the Adriatic to its empire. Mr Maddock does not overendow his central character with heroic attributes impossible for the Average male to swallow, Terrell succeeds in lvis t?elf-imposed mission partly because of common sense, quick-witted-ness and courage, partly because of the j co-operation of one, Basket, a gentleman with a conveniently criminal .pa.st, which is no small aid when poc-ket-picking and safe-craclcing are called for, This book is good entertainment for adventure lovers.