THE HELD OF FICTION.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 19282, 20 September 1924, Page 4

THE HELD OF FICTION.

RAPID REVIEWS.

By Constant Reader.

There are always plenty of readers for a wholesome story set in a typical English atmosphere redolent of the charm of the country side. “Patricia Ellen,” by Mary Wiltshire (Mills and Boon) answers exactly to this description. Patricia Ellen, daughter of an hotelkeeper at Aveburyin England she would be known as a publican’s daughter—falls in love with an artist who stays at her father’s hostelry, and she is subsequently left a widow with a little daughter, Phyilida, to provide for. _ In search of a suitable situation, Patricia Ellen, who_ is independent and sell-oon-trolled, besides having an engaging disposition, becomes housekeeper to John Gideon, a partner in an old-established Cirencester business and very well to do. ’Hie _ inevitable happens, John desires Patricia’s hand in marriage, and, having Phyllida’s welfare in view, she consents. This second marriage _ brings troubles in its train which Patricia Ellen meets with unfailing sweetness. She is not even upset by the interference of an arrogant and disagreeable sister-in-law. How this troubler of the peace is eventually discomfited, the discomfiture bringing a happy issue in the union of husband and wife, is excellently well told. The interest of the story is greatly enhanced by the delights of the description of the scenery of one of the most fertile districts in England. “The Devil’s River” by Leland Buxton Allen and Unwin), is an amateurish, but unusual novel, the purpose of which apparently is to expose the extent to which the development, of the British Empire is carried out at the dictates of the men who dominate the big moneyed interests. There la a political edge to the story in that the humanitarian members of the Liberal and Labour Parties are depicted as championing tlio cause of the oppressed natives, whilst the Tory financiers are shown as eager to utilise every opportunity to advance their own interests, even to the point of conniving at native risings calling for severe reprisals on the part of the British Government, this leading up to the ultimate annexation of native lands which are required for the development of their plans. This is carried so far that Sir Mark Barchester insists that “there must be atrocities” on the part of the natives in order to move the Government to the point of annexation. Sir Mark Barchester is a patriotic Imperialist of a deepdyed Tory type, and his particular interest in the Devil’s River Company, operating in the oil lands “in the northern boundary of Mangolia.” He is the villain of the story, which, beginning in an outpost of Empire, shifts to London, the hub of the universe. The hero is Charlie Reach, private secretary to Sir William Blossom, Governor of Mangolia, Charlie, who is an idealist and on the inside of the Imperialistic schemes, revolts and abandon? a promising career. After a term of drudgery in a London publishing house, he is finally rewarded with a consulship in Southern Bululand. There is no actual heroine. Miranda at first promises well, but she marries a ‘radical author and journalist; and Zita Crawley, a widow, refuses to take Charlie’s offer of marriage seriously. The characterisation is capital, and the contrast between the savagery of Mangolia and the civilisation of London is vividly drawn. At times the action is intricate, but the shafts of satire are admirable. For a first novel, “The Infinite Shoeblack,” by Norman MacOwan (William and i\orgate),_ takes high rank. The author is a disciple of Carlyle, and the Carlylean philosophy may be detected all through the _ narrative. _ There is a hint of dominion happenings in the opening incident. One _Mayne is faced with the certainty of failure in an actuaries’ examination, while Andrew Berwick was certain of securing honours Mayne offered Berwick £IOO for the exchange of papers—an offer at first indignantly refused. Andrew fell in love with the beautiful Mary Middleton, whom he found ill and helpless, and after a great conflict he bartered his birthright for the wherewithal to enable Mary to go to Spain to recover her health. Then came the war. and in Egypt Andrew agqin met Mary, now a woman in splendid health, and living a life of pleasure in which the enjoyment of the senses predominated. To Andrew, brought up on Carlyle, such an existence was little better than sheer animalism. and he sot to work to transform Mary into a housewife and mother. The conflict between Carlyle-Andrew and As-pasia-Mary is the crux of the story, which recalls in a different sphere and atmosphere the Thais of Anatole Franco. “Barney,” by S. B. EL Htrret (John Long), is an unpleasant story, not well constructed, and yet conveying a sense of strength and power. Barney Hilliard, “wanderer. ' thinker, dreamer,’’ is “a strangely mixed character with gorilla-like strength and vitality.” Thanks to a false accusation, Barney loaves his Devonshire homo in company with his chum and neighbour, Dick Carew, and takes ship for Victoria. British Columbia, There follow some.amazing adventures in the Far West, in the course of which Dick is brutally murdered, and Barney extorts a fiendish revenge. The action of the book is interrupted by much philosophising of a pessimistic tinge, and Barney’s psychic experiences are wearisomely enlarged upon. The incidents would make o good story, but the book calls for considerable condensation. “The Compulsory Millionaire,” by W. Harold Thomson (John Long), is an entertaining comedy, the scene of which is laid on the west coast of Scotland, on the island of Lurg, A young bank clerk, Dennison Carr by name, has inherited an unexpected legacy of £2OO a year, and, being a bit of a geologist, ho decides to visit Lurg. a virgin field, in order to study rocks. The island, however, had recently been purchased by Oswald Shelton, a millionaire, and Carr, on his arrival, is welcomed as Shelton, his persistent disavowals being of no avail. Thus Carr becomes a compulsory millionaire. The situation is complicated by the arrival of Mrs Warren and her marriageable daughter in pursuit of Shelton and on matrimony intent. Matters get more and more mixed until the arrival of Shelton in person pnts things straight. Mr Thomson is to be congratulated upon a capital little story full of humorous situations. As a first novelist, Mr Strothers Burt is to be congratulated in “The Interpreter’s House” (Hodder and Stoughton) in having produced the best American story of the year, rivalling in artistry and characterisation the “House of Mirth” of Mrs Edith Wharton. The old-fashioned banking house of Byre and Go., of New York, had at its head Henry Eyre, now practically retired from business, the bank being presided over by his son Philip. Hia daughter Drusilla _ was married to Percy Shipman, a financier, and hia other son Gulian, an adventurer and a dreamer, was just back from the war, and uncertain about his future. This background serves the novelist as a stage on which to project a crowd of Now York’s beautiful women and wealthy business men, with their and jealousies, and the picture is painted in a masterly fashion. Allowing for the difference in nationality and scene, “The Interpreter’s House” is worthy to bo compared to the Forsyte Saga of Mr John Galaworthy, and that is giving the book the

very highest praise. A well-drawn, character ia Vannya, a young Russian prince, who accompanied Gulian on hia return to New York; and in Vida Prondergast ia presented a beautiful but decadent type of a society woman who, a Roman Catholic, will not sue for a divorce, but yet is unfaithful to her husband, _ While_ it deals with social problems, there is nothing nasty, about this story, and it merits a wide circulation. Mr Robert Elson is a novelist who is striking out on a new path. In a former novel, “Mory,” the interest was largely legal, in that it recorded a number of supposition “oases.” In his latest book, “Quack” (Hutchinson), Mr Elson develops a topic which is purely pathological. Harding Fullar is pictured as a medical man of emiionce, who, as a result of scientific study, has discovered a method of prolonging the life of his patients. One of his patients ia a young girl whom he marries, and the story resolves itself into a series of discussions between husband and wife, in which are examined the several rases on which the sentence of life or death is to bo pronounced. “Fullamon is tne name given to the secret remedy, and when Sir Harding Fullar himself falls sick, the question arises as to whether he shall be treated with his own remedy. “The Voice of the Seven Sparrows, ’ by Harry Stephen Keeler (Hutchinson) is a mystery story of a highly complicated kind which calls for close attention any of the threads be missed. The picture painted of journalism in Chicago is as depressing as the description of New Orleans is charming. Indeed, the backgrounds of the hook vie with the mystery lor attractiveness. The mystery centres around the disappearance of Beatrice Mannerley, daughter of a Chicago newspaper proprietor, but the attendant circumstances are too intricate to be outlined. If fault be found with the story it is that it is too long drawn out and the action is scarcely swift enough. Nevertheless, “The Voice of the Seven Sparrows,” especially in its delineation of the Chinese, character, is a story to be read. It is hardly a fair thing, by dint of large typo and thick paper, to attempt to pad out a short story into the guise of a full-length novel, but this is exactly what has happened to “Julia” by Baroness Von Hutton (Hutchinson). Moreover, the author of “Pam” has not even toy a good story to make amends for its brevity. The morals of Julia, the heroine, are very mixed, and the story is a nightmare of mistaken marriages and subsequent divorces. The thread of the book is very difficult to follow, and there are no compensations when the struggle is ended “Julia” is described as a story of Love and Sacrifice; but the love_ element is sordid and the sacrifice a species of selfishness. Miss Emmeline Morrison is a weaver of elaborate plots in which heroines of dubious morals take the centre of the stage. “Three of a Kind” (John Long) tells of a woman who is a wife in name only, and who seems only too ready to pop off with a lover to Paris or elsewhere. The man, an illegitimate son of a famous dancer, is by turn mechanic in the air force, engineer, exconvict, and medical man. Out of the actions and reactions of such a couple Miss Morrison contrives a passable story which is not very edifying and is certainly artificial. “The Crepe de Chene. Wife,” by Amy J. Baker (John Long), is the story of another woman who is on with one man almost before she is off with the other. Married at first to a doctor in the army, she forsakes him for a baronet of sporting proclivities. But the baronet drops her quickly when he sees her dancing at a cabaret with a young barber. _ The husband of a woman who has befriended her carries her off to Canada; but eventually they separate, and she drifts to South America, where she has one protector after another. There is no point in the hook and little moral, and the reader finds himself wondering why it was written.