THE BOOKSHELF
GERALD DU MAURIER
PORTRAIT OF AN ACTOR
In " Gerald " Dnplinc du Maurier has written an unconventional portrait of her father., Her detachment and faintly patronising appraisement of his talent is interesting and as typical of the present century daughter's attitude as worshipful admiration was of the nineteenth century's daughter. Her portrait has something of the charm and intimacy of an album of snapshots, and creates an extraordinarily attractive pattern of the du Maurier family life fnr several Gerald was the youngest, son' of tha still remembered Kicky du Maurier, author at the age of sixty of two famous best sellers, "Peter Tbbetson " and "Trilby." He was a true Bohemian and bad a genius for friendship which crowded his studio with all the important artists of the day. He seemed only happy when surrounded by his family or his friends. Alone he was at the mercy of the demon of depression —a demon which in course of time was to'transfer its attention to the debonair Gerald. Gerald, the youngest child, was always delicate and in consequence much coddled by his mother.. At an absurdly early age his mimicry in turn delighted and annoyed his family. But life moved sweetly for Gerald; he was never less than amusing and, though not clever, at school had a perfect genius for getting things his own way. He grew up and, after a half-hearted attempt to earn- his living in the city, drifted on to the stage. After all it was the only thing he was any good at and here he was a great success without seeming to make the least effort. It ail came too easy. Failure was unknown to him. He was.never out of a job, never poor, never worried about-the future*. He did not know what it was to wait at stage doors to interview managers and beg for a part in a new production. He was lucky; and his very luck threatened to spoil him, to weaiy him of his own talent, to make h:im become jaded with the success that he learned too early and too soon. But his successes were tremendous. Efis Raffles, his Captain Hook, were unique. None of his plays were particularly well written, but they were good entertainment; they filled the theatre—and Gerald considered it infinitely more worth while than standing in tights before,a dark curtain protesting to five people in the stalls that all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dustv death.
At thirty-seven Gerald entered into a partnership •with Curzon, who had Wyndham's Theatre, and the following fifteen years were the most successful of his career. These were the happy days of big actor-manageri! who had real theatre sense and theatre understanding. But the great days were passing. His father's _ demon of depression began to visit him more and more frequently. His loved brothers and sisters were taken one by one until he was the only du Maurier left. The flavour seemed to have gone out of life. He could never bear to be alone, but when his time drew near he alone seemed prepared. His admirers wilf find his daughter's portrait most satisfying. No one else could have given such full measure. It shows Sir Gerald du Maurier the very talented actor and charming,., personality with that touch of puckish spirit which kept him ever young.
" Gerald," by Daphne du Manner. (Gollancr.)
ENTENTE CORDIALE
CURING BY KINDNESS
It is not until one finishes reading Comte Fleury's book "The French and Ourselves " that its merits become apparent. Its first and foremost object is to clear away the many prejudices and misunderstandings which exist between the two nations. Tt docs this, not by a display of caustic wit, not by knocking too hard at faults, but by an insistence on the good points of each and by examining the faults goodnaturedly to find the ounce of wheat from which this pound of chaff has sprung. Sometimes ho protests too much: "The soldiers of two nations «"ho in the beginning confronted one another with amusing incomprehension, as soon as close contacts were established. became welded in a charming camaraderie, solid and durable." An instance of the wish fulfilling its paternal function, surely. Comte Fleury knows his England well, knows her foibles and the strength that lies underneath them. He is not afraid to put his finger down anywhere, but it is such a healing touch that it does not sting. At times he is so wholehearted in supoort that one suspects the ironv beneath. His attitude toward British snort ts. almost too enthusiastic for a Frenchman. Tt seems that ho has become completely Anglicised until the French section of the book is reached. Then an added touch of feeling creeps in. the Frenchman is still alive and la patrie is still France. The provinces, the peasants, even the dishes of France, are still very close to his heart. This book of enlightenment is all the more welcome because the recent cordialitv bet ween the two nations has not overcome the centuries of hereditarv enmity so rnur-h as Comte Fleury would have us believe.
The Frpncb Oursolrfs," by Comto Serge Fleury. (Bull.)
" A CHRISTMAS PARTY "
WHAT HEAVEN TS LIKE
" It's as if you two had a watertight Compartment of- time to yourselves." says Almerie. t-he bov who grew into Sir Almerie Bellew. through whoso eyes the events of " A Christmas Party." by Paul P'oomfield. are seen. Almerie the boy wondered about the. I'eetor's description of Heaven as a plaee full of 'nnocent children—a dull nlaee surely, lacking in scope for ambitious hoys. Then Almerie went on to worldly success and ever and anon returned to bis village, where time stood still and looked at. (he inareh of events. On one Gnoh oeeacion this envied world figure attended n party given hv one of the ■people with a watertight eomnartment "°f time; n strange partv indeed, for there he found the answer to what Heaven is like. At this party were main' • famous people down the ages, but each *"35 at the happiest period of his life. And the eurions thing was that all the Murderers and tyrants and torturers and war lords were happy little bahies. 'bus Sir Almerie saw Heaven and, looking haek on his successful life.
Saw that " thp world was against him, ®nd the world was subtle." This is an Jinusual aIW-orv written with a deft t"ueh of delicacy.
Christmas Party." by Paul Bloomfield
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXII, Issue 22000, 5 January 1935, Page 9 (Supplement)
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1,075THE BOOKSHELF New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXII, Issue 22000, 5 January 1935, Page 9 (Supplement)
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