BOOK NOTICES

Otago Daily Times, Issue 14002, 7 September 1907, Page 4

BOOK NOTICES

"Joseph Vance: an 111-written 'Autobiography." By William He Morgan. London: W. Heinemann. (3s 6d, 2s 6d.) T-no' only fnii.lt in this book is its extraordinary length; yet, perhaps, that- is not a fault, for the leisured reader who has time to follow the intricacice of a style as discursive as that of Thackeray and often as apparently inconsequent wjJl be richly rewarded for his perseverance. In actui# material there is quite enough to fill, and overfill, half a dozen ordinary novels; while a whole shelf would hardly contain as much real knowledge, dolicato appreciation, and psychological insight. Tlio style is full of surprises, and the current of the story' bends backwards and,forwards on itself liko a streamlet meandering through a fertile valley so much in lovo with tho clustering forget-me-nots and loose-strife, the feathery grasses and the scented meadow-sweet that it seems unablo to tear itself away and enter tho industrial plain beyond. A page here, a Kiitoico there, a carefully elaborated •incident, half a dosrcn short conversations - and tho dramatis poison® stand out like i photographs from casta far more distinct : than i wo over see anyone in real life. "Vance ills, tho historian; Vance pcrc, with Ilia unfortunate weakness for the bottle;. the warm-hcartod Br Thorpe; Beppino, Nolly, Janie, Bony MacAlister, Porky Owls, Gummy Harbustlc, and a. number of others would easily becomo " household words" if the people of tho twentieth centuiy were not too busy to study childish rcminisccnccs, and the thousand-and-ono details and impressions that go to "tho making of a man." -How much we lofio in tho feverish rash and liustlo of modern life! Is it not better to Tead ono book that is worth leading than to slum over a dozen that are only fit to light the kitchen firo? But wo can honestly say that overy page skipped in "Joseph Vance" has been a lo6s, and often we have been compelled against our will to go back and read, and oven re-read, certain • passages. . There are two portraits that standi out from tho crowded canvas an never-to-be-forgotten realism—those of Joe Vatico and Ijossio Thorpe. ' Joo is a man every inch of him, clean, manly, straight, an unsparing critic 6f lis own shortcomings, ft kindly - historian of tlie shortcomings of others. While Lossie! What shall wo say of, I/Kgie, the embodiment of loving, tender, sprightly, t-rue-hcartfid girlhood 'and -■womanhood, a creature drawn on-the' lines of the poet's "perfect' woman," "not too bright and good'for human natWs daily food"? Ab wMesome as bread, as.exquisite as embodied sunshine, all .pure woman. No selfish monster, no grcon-eyed syren, ' Lossio is good to look at and to live/with, but not much to describe—neither a "new woman" nor an "old woman," nor yet a "modern woman," but tho woman that every man, Hunks -bis mother is or was and 1 tbat ho hopes bis wife may bo when tho glaanouf-of courtship has passed awny—a woman for all time, tho flower and quintesenco of her sex. From the moment that Lossie makes her first appcarntice. gathering pears, into which service she presses "tho man's boy," 6hc holds tho i)oarda nntil the final sceno of all, ■whoa tho only shadow that has over come between her and Joe is cleared away and tho old happy relations are restored. "Joseph Vance" is a remarkable book, a book to read and kcop and refer to; but it requires leisure and, concentrated attention.

" Bachelor Betty." By ,Winifred James. London : Constable and Co. (3s 6d, 2a 6d.) This.is a bright, humorous littlo story by nil 'Australian writer. "Betty," otherwise Elizabeth Bcrcsfoixl, " ivith a r-opu-tut ion to mako and monoy to cam," leaves Australia immediately after the marriage ot her sister and only near relative, bent on achieving literary faiiio and independence. Of cotuEo 6ho makes the journey by eca, as airslups are still in the future; hut tlio reader is to be congratulated 011 the discretion whioli takes such a. proceeding for granted hn<l spares him the hackneyed dotails of the commonplaco voyage; indeed, he is so grateful that he overlooks the inevitable gush .about Colombo, rickshaw-travelling, tropical vegetation, and delightful brown babies'. "Betty" is at lier'best when sho writes about people. She has ii shrewd, obscrva.nl faculty, the true journalistic instinct, that sees - copy" in everything and knows just how to add the touch of humour, of sarcasm, of raifiory,' which gilds the cominonplaco and redeems threadbare incidents from absolute banality. - Betty has an 'Elizabethan way of calling people after their qualities instead of by their names, which in eometimcs as confusing as to 6peak to a pereon to whom ono has not been introduced. In this way the "Youngest Man" is found to he greyhaired and- the "Oldest Man" i 6 twentytlireo and a-half, and "the Man that Uncle j John Nursod" is convalescent and 1 privileged to fall in love with Undo John's jiieoe. It is well for Betty tliat elio is not •dependent on literatim; or journalese for ' n living, sinco sho is a delightfully, lazy and Insurious person, rejoicing in tine clothes, dainty food, heaps of flowers, and otlier expensive trilles; nor has sho any idea of the value of money or the rudiments of domestic economy. There aro not many colonial girls who would be so utterly helpless in a I/ondon flat or make sfl much trouble over "doing" for themselves, biit it gives Betty tlio opportunity of wrestling with a vory surprising charwonlan and of suffering pangs of homesickness and loneliness. Betty makes many friends, sees a gogd deal of society, is muoli admired—partly for her Bharp tongue,—receives 11 few offers of marriage, fails in love with tlio "Youngest Man" (who i 6 more than twioe her age), and only ends her book when sho drops the adjective. which appears on the title-page. In every chapter she says a few smart things—somo old, some more or Ices new; but tlio gein of all is probably a short assay 011 "Tlio Australian as a Typo," which 'was written for and delivered to 3 club of Australians mot together as a mutual admiration society to, declare their superiority to every other race or sub-race in the world. The essay begins: "We as a race lack much, but it must bo remcm.-. bored that we were born a short timo . ago and arc still very; young." ilt goer, on to enumerate a fairly complete catalogue of colonial 6ins and failings', and winds up with the statement: "Tho Australian i 6 tlio umvhippcd schoolboy of nations, and when he comes to table with the grown-ups his experience is of necessity small and' his behaviour occasionally trying." • The effect of tliis effort to " 6eo ourselves as itlicrs see us" is electric: the visitors, who expected unstinted praise, are speedhloso ■ with indignation. When thoy recover the use of their tongues they oVe'rpowcr the unlucky author with opprobrium, and in tearing her work to 6nreds prove the truth of ito allegations. The wholo 6ceno is really excellent and broadly oomic, and.in our opinion tho best thing in tlio book, which is altogether considerably above tho average.

"A Mirror of Slialott," By 'Robert Hugh Benson, London: Sir Isaac Pitman and Sons! Dunedin: R. J. Stark. (3s 6d,

2s £<]). This is a collection of fourteen psychic o.nd mystical stories of strange experiences of the' Other World thrown on tho mirror of conscioiisniiss and interpreted, as far as may be, in terms of sense. Like the generality of such stories, the majority appear to have no object, a fact which, in the prologue of tho present volume,- is explained by a clever little parable of a bit of orange peel falling into nil ants' nest.. The liajipenings may not "be meant for us at all, "but- fall as it were, from another dimension into this one: "Tho spiritual world is crammed full of energy and movement and affairs. Things happen we get a glimpse. Thit's all." Some of these gliini)scs, or shadows of shadows, as interpreted by Father Benson arc very suggestive, others are simply curious. The stories are.told by a symposium of priests and ft few laymen met. together at Borne. The narrators are of many nationalities, but tho stvle and method is distinctly Bensonian." There is scarcely any attempt made to change it, though certain personal details and tricks of manner are insisted on. Of the fourteen tales, that attributed t<> Father Girdlcstono is perhaps the most striking and cffcctdvo. Number 13, " Mr Fercival's Tale," is ouo that lingers in the memory as a curious jMjchic cjyei'iguc?, si " yisUiialiscd

emotion" on t.lio most modern lines of thought; while t'lie last story, "My Own," jis the most wanting in object, " utterly pointlcre, and inexplicable when regarded from t-he human pint of view."

."Lucy .Gort." By Alice and Claude Askew. London: George Bell and Sons. Duncdin: Whitcombe and Tomba. (3s 6d, 2s 6d.) This is a painful and sensational story turning upon the ruin, moral and physical, of a' rather foolish young woman who, having played with a dangerously equivocal situation, finds hereelf suddenly caught in tho toils. Lucy Gort. goes as companion first to the wifo and afterwards to' ilto sister of Lord Robert Chilvcrs. Tho wife becomes mad—is indeed mad bofore the story commences,—and Lord Robert, makes love to Lucy. She repudiates his advances, but does not leave tho house, and, in a fit of baiHed passion and revenge, he outs his throat on her doormat, and leaves her a large sum, of money in a will worded so ao to suggest an improper intimacy. Lucy is cast off by the lover to whom she was engaged, is contemned, and cut by her friends, including Lord Robert's sister, who accuses her of tempting her brother to his death, takes to gambling and reckless living, and becomes an adventuress of the most approved type. A great part of the talo is' devoted, to describing Lucy's wonderful personal charms, her "jade-green" eyes, her hair like " corn with moonlight shimmering on it," her " ivory complexion and scarlet lips," with other impossible and unnatural physical charms wldch are dwelt on ad nauseam. The suggestion throughout is that of an elemental nature, vivid, passionate, utterly without self-control—a woman who should' have lived when tho world was young, but has no place amid the' ordinary proprieties of the twentieth century. In somo ways she resembles Deborah in the "Shunamite," but the atmosphere of Mayiair is less suited to tho evolution of such a character than is tho African veldt, and in Lucy Gort tho strain of Puritan morality is altogether wanting: sho has no principles except to get the most she can out of life for herself. This type of modern heroine, who is not so much immoral as unmoral, is npt particularly convincing and certainly not agreeable. We should wish that the ■ authors, of "Lucy Gort" had chosen a moro agreeable theme.