TRAGEDIES OF TO-DAY.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 14359, 31 October 1908, Page 13

TRAGEDIES OF TO-DAY.

FRESH FICTION FEATURES,

Mingled with the lament over the decadent character of a certain element in modern fiction, there is comfort in the reflection that the first-rank novelists of to-day continue to produce work of the highest- order. Certainly' the list of new novels produced or in course of production in England and in America lor the autumn or "fall" season, contains titles and names of an unusually attractive sort. We have recently reviewed in these columns Stanley "Weyman's "The Wild Geese" and Marie Corclli's "Holy Orders,'' and we have now before-ns Mrs Humphrey Ward's "The Testing of Diana Mallory,'' Eden I'hillpott's "The. Virgin in .Judgment,'' Robert Lie Durham's "The Call of the South," John Foster Erasers '' Life's Contrasts," and Harold Bindlcss's " The Liberationht," the latter book being issued in America nnder the much happier title "Long Odds." And in the lists of forthcoming fictions we notice "Hcliaiitlius," by "Ouida"; "Wroth," by Agnes and Egcrion Castle; "The War in the Air," by H. G. Wells; "The Great Mifs Driver," by Anthony Hope; "Simple Septiinus," by W. J.'Locke; "The l'oint of Honour," by Joseph Conrad; " A Spirit in Prison," by Robert Ilichens; " The Immortal Moment," by May Sinclair; "Ail Immortal Soul," by W. li. Mallock; "The Diva's Ruby," bv F. Marion Crawford; "Angel Esquire," by Edgar Wallace; "The Mills of the Gods," by Elizabeth Robins; "The Fair Mississippian," by Charles Edward Craddock; "Lewis Rand," by Mary Johnstone; "The Trial of the Lonesome Pine," by John Fox, jun. ; "Peter," by L\ Ilopkinson Smith; "Kincaid's Lattery," by G, W. Cable; a.nd "The Red City," by Dr S. Weir Mitchell; not to mention the promise of another remarkable and unconventional novel from the pen of C. Hansford Henderson, the author of "John Percyficld," entitled "The Lighted Lamp." Of course it would be too much to expect that all or even tho majority of these books will come up to ths standard of the best work previously produced by the respective writers, but at least the mention of so many well-known names will send a thrill of expectancy through the nerves of the multitude to whom a really good ami dean novel means so much in the way of enjoyment diversion. It is safe to say, however, that the samples"'now engaging our attention have in every case touched high-water mark; nor does this exhaust their similarity. Is it to be taken as symptomatic of the times in which wc Jivo that while the " happy ending" used to be tacitly accepted as a canon of novel writing, our tir3t-raid; writers arc accustoming us to look for the tragic rather than the comic spirit in their plots ? Does it count for morbidity or for greater honesty tlcui whereas tlio novelist of the past was acoustomcd so to handle hi 3 characters as to prepare everything for a joyiul denouement, nowadays the spectres and tlio skeletons aro dragged out into the light of day, while the characters, taking matters into their own hands, compel situations as they are iittd not as we would have them lie? Whatever the reason, the note of tragedy is to be ionnd in cacli of the novels above mentioned. "What is tragedy 1 !" inquires ono writer, and answers his question by another: "Is it tho conllict of elemental forces, the struggle of two masterful energies in a man or a woman's soul? Is it. the ceaseless tight botweu character and circumstauee, between heredity and fate, between the influence of the past and the guiding and remorseless hand of tho future'! Doubtless it is out of .these and other elements that tragedy gets its meaning— irith the added proviso that, whatever the character of the conflict may be, it must be exhibited to us under ideal or typical conditions, and not, ar, is the practice of Ibsen, displayed in the back parlour of a provincial nr.wispaprr office, or on the floor of a common lodging-house." It is exactly the cxlubitioa of this conflict of elemental forces under typical conditions which strikes us as the feature of' the fiction under review. Somewhat fancifully, perhaps, we have placed each book under a heading indicating the particular form of tragedy presented by the author, together with an indication of the conditions under which the conllict is fought. Wc can only find space for tho first two books on our list; the others will follow next Saturday.

I.—ENGLAND: A TRAGEDY OF CULTURE AND OF CHIME. 1 Mrs Humphrey Ward is admittedly foremost amongst living: writers of fiction; she has u finished literary style, an inbred sense of the artistic, a partiality for the propounding of problems, and a liret hand and accurate acquaintance of the people she creates and the things of which she writes. Iter characters arc no superficial sketches, hut rather full-length portraits drawn by a. master hand. . She has an insight into the secret workings of tho human heart, enabling her to treat sympathetically and skilfully that extraordinary bond between men and women which, for want of a better title, bears the name of love. She has studied the world of polities, and hence is able to deal satisfactorily and cleverjy with the maze of mind and insincerity of purpose which marks the average parliamentarian. Some of Mrs Humphrey Ward's earlier books were overweighted with a too didactic purpose, which, while marking her deep sense, of the, responsibility of the novelist s calling, served to detract from the genuine merit 01 the storv she <!<• Hut in "The Testing of Diana Mallory" the reader will discover a real romance, pregnant with human lnteiest, enlivened with gniart dialogue and witty repartee, abounding in delicate touches and yet with a really sensational plot, heightened by just that" sense of unlavel.'etl mystery which the situation demands.

.1 lie book is a lony one. and the action deliberate; yet the story never drags. There is a full canvass of characters, vet not one is scamped, and all are necessary to the proper development of the plot'. Which would seem to stamp Mrs Humphry' Ward's new novel as one of the best—if not actually the best—which has yrit come from her pen, while it is likely to become the most popular.

Tho plot is too intricate and the fortunes of each individual character too closely involved to make possible anything like a. connected account of tiie action of (he book. We will therefore content ourselves with indicating the main motive of the story and its outstanding characteristics, leaving the reader to follow more closely the action of the bonl; for himself or herself.

Dijna Mallory—one of the most charming (if Mrs Humphry Ward's many charming creations—had been brought np away from England by "her father in utter ignorance of the fact that her mother— the notorious Juliet Sparling—had been found guilty of tlit! mine of murder, although the capital sentence was subsequently commuted. On the death of her father Diana returned to England—a Tory and an Imperialist-and rngaged the atI lie louing «! Diana Jtnllory," by ."Irs Humphry Ward. London: Macinillnn and Co. Duucilm; J. Brjithwaite. (2s Cd and 3 S Ofy '

tention of Oliver Marsham, a rising young politician prominent in the Liberal rank." and inclined to. coquet witli the extreme ■Socialist section of the Radical parly. Oliver had just proposed and been accepted by 1. iana, when both man and girl heard the story id' the tragedy of the past. Oliver is financially dependent upon h\s mother, Lady Lucy Marsham, wlm, eo soon as she hears (lie news concerning Diana's parentage, vigorously opposes her sons marriage. Oliver, although genuinely in love with Diana, falters at the prospect of the Joss of political position and prospects which his mother's wealth ensured him. At length in a shamelaced and cowardly fashion he accepts Diana.'.s offer to release him from the engagement. But both he and bis mother pay dearly fm their treatment of Diana, who, bearing up bravely, takes a trip abroad, Championed by 'an eminent lawyer, Sir James Chide, who in former years loved Diana's mother and defended her at the trial, popular opinion decides that Oliver lias treated Diana badly. This in the end costs him bis scat in Parliament, and liesides, seriously hurt by a .blow from a. stone received during the election contest, be becomes partially paralysed and a. more or less helpless invalid. Deserted by Alicia Drake, the girl who inveigled him into an engagement after bis desertion of Diana, Oliver is succoured and mined by' Diana, who forgives him his baseness,' and, despite the fact that he. is hovering o.u the brink of the grave, marries him. This sacrifice on Diana's pari is, of course, the signal for Oliver's recovery, which pqint being reached the curtain falls.

There are many incidents, all 'bearing upon flic central sfination, at which we must not so much as stop to glance, but we cannot forbear quoting a passage or two illustrative not so much of the author's finished style as of the thoughts she so eloquently expresses and the ideas she earnestly seeks to inculcate. Here is a description of tho heroine of the story around whose personality the main-interest centres:—

Her eyes were large, finely coloured and thickly fringed, but this slightly veiled concentration suggested ail habitual though quite unconscious STRCGGLK to see, —with that clearness which the mind behind demanded of them. The complexion was a clear brunette, the cheeks rosy, the nose was slightly tilled, the mouth fresh and beautiful, though large, and the faco of a lovely oval. Altogether an aspect of rich and glowing _ youth, no perfect beauty, but something arresting, ardent, charged—perhaps overcharged, with personality. Aided by her father's affection and stimulated by his knowledge, her mind and character had rapidly developed. And as though a natural outlet, all her starved devotion, for the England she bad never known had spent itself upon the Englands she had found beyond the was; upon the hard worked soldiers and civilians in lonely Indian stations, upon the captains of English ships, upon the pioneers oi Canadian fields and railways; upon England, in fact, as the arbiter of oriental faiths—the wrestler with the desert—the mother and maker of new states. A passion for the work of. her race beyond these narrow seas— a passion of sympathy, which was also a passion of antagonism, since every phase of that work, according to, .Miss Mallory, had been dogged by the hate •and culumny of baso minds—expressed itself through her charming mouth with a quite astonishing fluency.

Muriel Colwood, Diana's companion and chaperon, who, playing quite a subordinate part in the story, is as admirably drawn as is Diana, applies herself to a study of Miss Mallory and with the following result: —

She divined a. naturo unwordly, impulsive, steeped, moreover, for all its spiritual and intellectual force, which was considerable, in a kind of sensuous romance—much connectcd with concrete things and symbols, places, pcrscis, emblems or relics, any contact with which might at any time bring the colour to the girl's cheeks and the tears to her eyes. Honour—personal or national—the word was to Diana like a spark to her dry leaves. Her wholo nature flamed to it, and there were moments when she walked visibly transfigured in the glow of it. Her mind was rich, moreover, in the delicate, inchoate, loves, the half poetic, half intellectual passions, the mystical yearnings and aspirations, which haunt a pure expanding youth. Such human beings, Mrs Colwood reflected, are not generally made for happiness.

Diana's visit to TaUvn Hall, tho residence of Lady Lucy jlarsliam, licr son Oliver and ner daughter Sirs I'otherhighain, is cleverly utilised lo introduce the principal characters in the book. Tallyn ifiill is ;t strange place whero Socialist membeiß of Parliament- foregather with amusing old aristocrats like La<ly Niton. The couvwfulion had turned upon a young mail named liremner, who had lately come to live in the neighbourhood. Bremncr's fa-tlier liad been mixed up in one of the worst financial scandals of the preceding generation, and the question had arisen as to the correctness of allowing a man with such antecendents the entree of the country society: —

"Oh, you can always ask a man like that to garden parties," said a shrill, distant voice. The group round the table turned. The remark was made by old Lady Niton, who sat enthroned in an armchair near the lire, .sometimes knitting and sometimes observing her neighbours with a malicious eye. good enough, isn't it, for garden parties?" said ilrs Fotheringham, with a little snoer.

Lady Niton's face kindled. "Let us be Radicals, my dear," she said briskly, "but not hypocrites. Garden parties are invaluable—for people you can't ask into the house."

TII3 point of the reference consists, of course, in tho remembrance of the recent uproar over the non-inclusion of a certain Labour member in the invitation issued to the King's garden party. Among the visitors to 'tallyn is .Mr Barton, a Labour member, concerning whom Alicia Drake inquires whether ho is likely to appear in dress clothes, receiving f nr rejoinder "Certainly not. He never does anything out of keeping with his olats." After dinner Diana engaged in a hot discussion upon political questions with Barton and Oliver Marshnm. Barton is described as "a powerful, short-necked man, in tho black Sunday coat of tho workman, with sandy hair, 'blunt features, and a furrowed brow." And Barton not tit': worst cf the argument. °

So far from intimidating ths young ■lady, he found in the course of a few more thrusts and parries that ho had roused a by 110 moans despicable antagonist. Diana was a mere mouthpiece, but, she was the mouthpiece of eye-wit-nes.-es, whereas Barton was the. mouthpiece of his daily newspaper and a handtill of partisan hooks, written to please the political section to which he belonged.

lie began to stumble and make mistakes. gross elementary mistakes in geography and in fact.'and therewith to lose his temper. Diana was upon him iu a moment, very cool and graceful, controlling herself'well, and it, Is probi able that she would have won the day triumphantly but for tho sudden intervention of her host. Oliver's intervention turned the scale, and at length after a. stubborn light Diana- had to own heiselt bea'ten in argument, which was the first step toward'; finding herself in ]„ve. I'or it. is a fact that a woman begins to love as soon as she feels herself bea.ten. _ But ttlroiwly there were routradictions in Oliver's snrronndinus which puzzled Diana. She pitied Lsdv Luev ar.d Mr Marsham because they must,' live in a place. Especially, surely, must it I>o iiampermg and disenneerling to a man. preaching tho. democratic gospel and looking forward to the democratic mil-

leniitm, to be burdened with a house and estate, which could offer so few excuses for tlie wealth of which they made an arrogant and uninviting display. Immense possessions and lavish expenditure may lie, a? we all know, so softened by antiquity or so masked l>y taste as not to jar with ideals the most different or remote, lint here 'proputty, proputly' was the cry of every ugly wood am] tasteless shrubbery, whereas the prospective owner of them, according to his public utterances and career, was magnificently careless of property—was, in tlie eyes of lovers of properly, its enemy. The house spoke loudly and aggressively of money, yet it was

the home of a champion :>f the poor

One of the finest tscenes in the. book— a scenc which seems to suggest a. possible stage pm-cntation of the story—is I bat wherein Sir James Chide voluntarily unveils t-ho painful past in an eloquent appeal to Lady Lucy to forego her opposition to Diana's marriage to Oliver. The power of the appeal lies in the fact that in championing bo gallantly the cause of Diana, the lawyer is in reality pleading for bis old sweetheart, the lovely and impulsive .Juliet Sparling. ISut the appeal was wasted upon an elderly ladv, who placed conventions and proprieties before genuine affection and righteous judgment.

Oliver's first impulse upon hearing of tlio crushing blow which had fallen upon Diana was to hasten to her side and comfort her. And in her description of that meeting Mrs Humphry Ward shows herself possessed of a true insight into the differences of disposition and temperament which so often separate between men and women:—

He caught tier in his arms at last — and she gave way;—she lot herself be weak and—woman. Clinging to him with all the pure passion of a- woman and all the trust of a child she felt his kisses on her cheek, and her deep sobs shook her upon his breast, Marsham's being was stirred to its depths. He gave her the best he had to give—and lit that moment of mortal appeal on her side and desperate pity on his their' natures met, in that fusion of spirit and desire, wherewith love can ber.d even tragedy and pain to its own uses.

And yet—and yet—was it in that very moment that feeling—on the man's side —"o'erleapt itself and fell on the other" ? VV'hen they resumed conversation Marsham's tacit expectation was that Diana would now show hcreelf comforted; that, sure of him and of his affection, she would now be ready to put the tragic past aside; to think first and foremost of her own present life and his, and face tho future cheerfully. A misunderstanding arose between them indeed, which is perhaps one of the typical misunderstandings between men and women. Tho man, impatient of painful thoughts and recollections, eager to be quit of them as weakening and unprofitable, determined to silence them by the pleasant clamour of his own ambitions and desires—the woman, priestess of the past, clinging to all the pieties of memory, in terror lest she forget tho dead—feeling it a disloyalty even to draw the dagger from the wound—between these two figures and dispositions there is a deep and natural antagonism. Here we must leave a story which has interested and moved us as few stories have done of late years. And once more Mrs Humphry Ward inclines to point tho moral of some at least of her former books, the moral insisted upon by George Eliot— viz., that it is the destiny of the noblest examples of womanhood to give themselves with both hands in plenary selfsacrifice to men who are infinitely beneath them in nature and in. disposition. And between the lines there runs the further lesson, tlut the present unsatisfactory nature of the relations of the sexes, brought about by the advancement of woman and the degeneracy of man, will not be righted until man. recognises tho outstanding tintb of the time, that he is the weaker vessel, and woman the 'stronger. 11.-DARTMOOR: A TRAGEDY OF PRIMITIVE PASSION.t It could scarcely be thought likely that Mr Eden Phillpotts would essay yet another Dartmoor romance without iii some S'Jl't, spoiling his literary reputation and laying himself open to the charge of repetition. Yet the London Times, in the course of a lengthv icvicw, declares '"The Virgin in Judgment," the best book Mr Phillpotts has yet written, this opinion being only c-ne in the chorus of acclamation with which the story was "reeled upon its appearance in England. And a perusal of this book addr- emphatic assent to that acclamation';' for this study ot the life and death ami loves and hates of the villagers of Sheepstor, is as faithful and complete as anything that this modern romancer of Dartmoor lias ever set his band to.

•In the pages of "The Virgin in Judgment'' we find the same felicity of scenepainting, the earnc delightful contrasts ill English country life, the same sly humour, all Reading up to the same grim tragedy, which have been remarked upon in the author's previous books. There arc those who decry Eden Phillpott's methods as inclining to melodrama, but as in "The Mother" so in bis newest novel, there is a tine restraint which adds heightened interest to the etorv.

Public opinion has been agitate:.! of late as to tho. ethics of pri&e-fighting, and the advisability of its having Government recognition. Sir Conan Doyle, in " Through the -Magic Door," hae Mine remarks upon the "low-down, unjustifiable, fascinating prize-ring which are well worth readme, especially seeing that he iu the author of tlmt illimitable descrintioii of a prize-fight in "Rodney Stone."" And lulen l'liillpotts, in the book before us, has a chapter devoted, to the li:;ht between Uavid liowden and Jhirtlcy Crocker, a fight engineered by that- high priest and poet of the prize-ring, " Frnety-faced Fogo" and fehillabeer, the Sheeostor publican, himself a retired professional pugilist. Cracker was seconded iy Shillabecr and Foljo, Bowdcn by his fi.iher and his sister Rhoda. And the clesci-ijjtion of the encounter is as spirited as anything ever written on the subject.

David and Hartley were rivals for the hand of Margaret Sianburv, and the fight was partly on her account' and partly because Hartley had kissed David's sister Rhoda. And between brother and sister there was a bond of union of an uncommon sort, for all the love vrhich in most women's care, is given to the man of their choice was with Rhoda. "oured out upon hot' brother. When David married Margaret, Rhoda must perforce form one of the household. And Hartley, Invin<r and reverencing Margaret ;« 'a sistei" turned his affection towardis li-hoda and enlisted Margaret',-- sympathy in his new quest. Thus it, came about ihat Margaret and Hartley were much together. And Rhoda, jealous for the brother whom she loved so much, scouted evil, and at h;n<'!h roundly accused Margaret of inlidclftv, declaring her intention of telling David. Margaret, innocent, as a lamb, was r,tunned at the attack, and knowing the. intimacy of brother and sister, dreaded, lest David should give heed lo tho charge. And in her d3s]mir she drowned herself iu a pool reputed to be haunted, called Crazywell. Hei'e in brief we have the outline of the story—an outline filled in with all the popular novelist's remarkable skill. The outstanding feature of this novel is its line contrasts iu charactcr-drawiiii; —between (he. virginal severity of ltlioda. with her .innate dislike lo the approaches of tho other sex. and the anient maternal spirit of her red-headed sinter Dorcas; t licro is the contrast hot wen David Bowden. with his hard-headed determination to got on in the world, which engrosses Ins thoughts to the exclusion of the development of his latent all'ection for Margaret Stanbury. and (lit* genial op?nlieartedness of Bantlcy ('rocker, with his easy transference of affection from one girl to the other. 'I here is tin* contrast between the assumed simplicity of the sclieeining William Screech and the niilural simplicity of llmi appalling pi: 1 "!', of rusticity Simon Sr.ell. Indeed, the story of Simon's romance with lihoda is one of ;);? best things in tbook. There is, too. the (ont.iT.si between "t'rostvfaced Fr.go" and tie Vicar. MrMe"!e. t"The Virgin in .Midgwcrii." by Eden Pliiilpotts. Lntmon: Cusscit iitul Gv ])uncclin: ]'. ,J. Sliirkaixl Co. aud J. Braitlwaito. S?s Cd ml 3s Ml.

nn amusing incident flip way in which Fogo put the AM car and Constable Mauudor oil tho scent as to the locale of Hie famous fight.

AVe are strongly lomplod to .«lav and make, many quotations from (his powerful slorv. hut must- forbear. AVe can warmlv recommend the novel, and advise all Kde'n J'liillpotts's admirers to wad what must study please them, anil the novelist's critics to make, his acquaintance in tliis latest effort without delav.