THE BOOKSHELF.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20372, 28 September 1929, Page 8 (Supplement)

THE BOOKSHELF.

THE ART OF THINKING. LUCID AND SIMPLE BOOK. Of the thousands of books published annually, very few survive the first intercut aroused by the flourish of publication, which is arranged for the most part by tlie publishers'for commercial ends. Outstanding books are few and far between but they invariably come into their own. Because good things aro tho better for being shared, a delighted reader cannot resist the impulse of talking of tho book that has impressed him to everyone he comes in contact with. This creates in bis listeners tho desire to read it for themselves, and so a good book slowly but steadily achieves its reputation.

" The Art of Thinking," by tho Very Reverend Abbe Ernest Dimnet, is such a book. It is impossible to read it without tho beginning of an intoxication which carries ono through to the end, and then back to the beginning to read it all again M. Dimnet achieves his aim, which is to make one think. The book is written for tho reader, from a keen desire to be of use It is simple, lucid, brief and illuminating. " A penny for your thoughts," askr M. Dimnet, and is not surprised at one's embarrassed answer that ono was thinking of nothing. " Ono's mind," M. Dimnet says, "is like an encumbered garret, inhabited by moths born and grown up in half lights, our thoughts. Tho moment wo open tho door fo see them better the drab little butterflies vanish. One's mind should be like ono's eyo. It should bo singlo. Ono's intellectual vision should bo direct. Wo are born with a capacity for observation. Life including such helpful influences as education and literature destroys this tendency as an April frost kills blossoms, and imitation and ignoble conformity take tho placo of originality." Reading should help thinking. Tliero was a time when books were scarce, when to read, meant also to think. Books are now read to kill time, in order not to think. Thinking means really being oneself, and to be oneself one must havo a certain amount of solitude. One must read intelligently, but only the books ono wants to read. Whatever one reads from intense curiosity gives one the model of how ono should always read. Plodding along page after page with an equal attention to each word results in attention to mere words. Tho classics are more interesting reading than is realised. Children, M. Dimnet suggests, should be put through regular thinking exercises at school. For instance, let a class bo given a moderately difficult piece of Latin translation, and not be allowed fo put pen fo paper for a given length of time. Then when tho whole piec« is complete in their minds lot them write it down. That is one method of training them to think. Children aro themselves until they reach the ago of seven or eight, then they begin to model themselves on grown-ups—-to echo their thoughts, their mannerisms, and so they gradually lose their most precious gift. To write anything, to create anything, one must be oneself. Yet most people aro not even conscious of their own personality. Nothing is more shocking than the absence of intellctnal independence in most people: they conform in opinion as they do in manner; they are perfectly content with repeating formulas.

All who read M. Dimnot will find the means of strengthening their thinking capacity. For those interested in writing he is especially helpful. Literature, lie says, is self expression, and self expression is "individuality and our individuality is ourself. Because ho himself is a writer this book is full of his own experience. There are. he says to the intending writer, two things necessary, a beginning and a method. In this book he gives the method—the beginning belongs to God. " The Art of Thinkins." by Ernest Dimnet (Cupe). WIND THAT WAS STILL. RICHARD OKE'S FIRST NOVEL. " Fn>lio Wind " is a first novel by a young man who exhibits all the. cleverness ami characteristics of our leading women novelists: the kind of young ,man who, needing a modern notability to couple with D'Annunzio, does not scruple to name himself. The title of the book is incomprehensible, for 110 wind moves in its pages, which hold the cioso still atmosphere of unopened rooms until the last few chapters, when a veritable tornado ravages th*ni.

The first part of the book is taken up with idle and rather meaningless prattle between a group of celebrities gathered together by four old ladies in fulfilment of their hobby. An amazingly naivo adventure of tho two youngest guests, assisted by tho. tragic death of the eldest of tho rasters all to the accompaniment of a very deliberate thunderstorm, affects the rest of tho inmates with a sudden passion for laying bare their pasts. In turn they all start to tell tho truth, and the dead pages suddenly ' become impetuously awake, though they still bear little relation to life. Tho time is ripe for somo precocious boy to take the place of tho ageing Beverley Nichols. If may be that the mantle will fall on Richard Oko. " Frolic Wind," by Richard Oke (Go.la IU7. J. SOCIAL AMBITION. A DISAPPOINTING ROOK. Seldom can an author of repute have lapsed into such faulty workmanship as Hoot It Tarkington shows in " Voting Mrs. Greeley." in the interests of his thesis he does not scruple to make his characters behave in the most unreal and needless ways imaginable. Mlie theme is the harm an ambitious woman can do to her husband's career if she is ill-advised. But in one single day be makes the woman alter the conduct of her previous life: he makes her stupid, selfish, overbearing, and more blind to her own obvious interests than it is possible to imagine any woman, however stupid. Whenever an author makes one set of characters wholly virtuous and light, and another set wholly bad and wrong, the book may safely bo regarded as untrue, to life. Mr. Tarkington makes one illuminating admission which will niako his countrymen writhe. lie makes his successful men acquire culture not. for tho sake of the culture, but to " put up a good show." Therein be unconsciously puts his finger on tho rotten spot in American " uplift." Tho book has few such bright spots, and being neither convincing nor attractive, may very well bo passed by.

" Youne Mr*. Greeley." by Booth Tarkinjr•on (Heinemann).