LITERATURE

Otago Witness, Issue 3215, 27 October 1915, Page 74

LITERATURE

BOOK NOTICES

“Annora: A Story of the Nineteenth Century.” By "the author of ‘‘My Trivial Life and Misfortune.” London and Edinburgh • W. Blackwood and Sons. (3s 6d, 2a 6d.) This is a powerful and analytical story, setting forth with minute detail the inner life and motives of the different individuals composing the families of Carcester and Jervoise. The head of the Carcester family is the Duke of Westshire; the head of the Jervoise family, though noble, is untitled. The plot of the story is intricate and needs close attention, while the characterisation is vivid and minute, with quite a Meredithian flavour. The central theme of the story is the devotion of the Lady Annora Carcester to her father, the Duke’s eldest son. The close relations often existing between a widowered fathe" and an only daughter have often been set before us in fact and fiction, but never, wo think, so minutely and successfully as in the present instance. Annora is beautiful in person, mind, and heart, and her Unquestioning devotion and selflessness, combined with the dignity and aloofness of a great lady, give us a type of heroine very unusual at the present time. There is nothing modern about her. She represents the age-old ideal of the perfect daughter, and, later, the perfect lover, whose devotion is unaffected by place, time, or circumstance. It is in the minor characters that the author's observation and keen sense of humour find fullest expression. Every member of the Jervoise family—Mr and Mrs Wilfred, Mrs John, and the two young men Dermet and Henry—is sketched to the life; also the servants and dependents, the peculiarities of each of the latter being in some subtle manner the natural reaction to the virtues and failings of the former; so that the several tyrannies of the coachman, the gardener, the steward, differ from those of the butler and the groom of the chambers, yet in each case it is the democracy which rules by the right of superior initiative. Another family treated in like manner is that of the Battesby-Browns, who, having formed themselves into a mutual admiration society, never fail to sing each other’s praises to the world, declaring that they cannot endure a moment’s separation, at the very time that Airs Battesby-Brown is industriously hunting down suitable husbands for her very unattractive daughters. “'Airs Battesby -Brown is the most tenacious woman alive. To the world at large she seems only a lady of exquisite sentiment, talking beautifully of herself, her feelings, and her united family. Never was there a sou like her darling Battesby; never such daughters. And she has brought them all up to speak of her in public as she speaks of them.” In private she is a “ manhunter,” and a very successful one, if the attainment of a desired object be an indubitable sign of success. “ Annora” is a long and very full book. A mere sketchy synopsis of the plot would not do it justice, or give any adequate idea of its merits. So closely are the idealistic and realistic elements interwomen that it presents a very accurate picture of life, touched by romance and tragedy on the one side and by sordid cruelty on the other. As a literary production it is also a fine piece of work, as will be seen from the following quotation. It is of the death of Annora’s father that the author speaks: At last came holy death in deepening stillness, and smoothed the troubled face. Without pain or trouble her father ceased to breathe. She understood : yet at the moment of his passing thus from her in sublime peace she felt no grief. The awful beauty of the holy calm entranced her soul. It was afterwards she knew the agony of nartiug. The old love had come back to her, mighty as ever. In the exquisite dreamland of childhood and youth Annora’s heart-strings had twined round her father, and absence with its cut of unkindness had not really severed them. There may be a love more passionate than a daughter's, but none so undying, so pitiful, and so forgiving. Then it is not well to look upon the dead if you would judge the dead man harshly. He lies in such majestic detachment of soul, far away from you. Xo anger can span that awful distance. It is immeasurable. It daunts all human feeling, except love. The distance of what has been so near to us is the supreme anguish that crushes us. AVhen Annora felt the infinite distance she knew the full agony of parting, and half her own self died.

“ Marjory Mallory.” By Ivan Hodgkinson. London : Fisher Unwin's ‘‘First Library.” (3s 6d, 2s 6d.) In this story we see the heroine, Marjory Mallory, “ beautiful, passionate, with the highest of ideals,” setting forth, as on a great adventure, ‘‘ to make; all the life experiences possible,” while yet keeping herself intellectually apart from the world. Setting before herself the task of trying, weighing, testing all the people and things with whom she may come into contact without losing' her own individuality and her own point of view. “ To live at the height of one’s intellectual power, to take nothing on trust, ought surely to be tho aim of everybody ” is her firm belief, and tho impossibility of the achievement nroves the tragedy of her life. Such a character prepared endless disappointments for itself', since it is ever seeking that which it scarcely expects to find; yet ' it is only the barbarian who seeks what lie expects to find.” Tho civilised man seeks without hope of finality, gradually learning to content himself if he can find in those with whom ho comes into contact the embryo of the Ideal struggling into manifestation. But Marjory is a girl, and she is young. There lies the heart of the tragedy. The story tells something of her education in the life school of her disillusionment and of tho few ideals which she was able to

retain. The characters of Alarjory’s three lovers afford occasion for some excellent literary work, and, if Ivan Hodgkinson bo indeed a novice, give promise of future distinction. The three lovers are well contrasted, and Alarjory’s final choice will meet with the approval of the thoughtful reader. John Orawshay is the conventional Englishman of all time, who believes in “ the pigeon-holing of women,” not in the free Eastern manner, for ‘‘one man’s delight,” but rather “ one man’s respectability and no one’s delight.” Lacking passion, but possessing sentiment, ho was unable to understand those who despised the half-measures in which, on account of their safety, his soul delighted. He is the personification of mediocrity, respectability, and compromise, and his wife must be, as Caesar's wife, above suspicion. Tremaine is a man of the world—keen, critical, analytical, a political journalist, a fascinating companion, a brilliant conversationalist ; capable of strong but not enduring passion; cynically selfish, but outwardly sympathetic. Victor Dawnay is the man to whom life lias given wisdom as well as knowledge, with a sane but kindly outlook —a man of understanding, to bo trusted at all times and under all circumstances. And amid the three Alarjory’s choice wavers for a time, and the reader trembles for her final decision. “J a fiery.” By William J. Locke. London: John Lane, 11 The Bodley Head.” Dunedin, etc. : Gordon and Gotch. (3s 6d, 2s 6d.) Air William Locke’s new book is a careful and brilliant character study, not only of the name part, but also of the hero’s friend, Adrian Boldero. Jaff’ery Chayne is a ‘‘beneficent ogre,” large in mind as in body, generous, open-hearted, willing to give his life for his friends, suspecting no evil —a primitive man-child of brobdingnagian proportions. The delineation of such a character presents few difficulties, and although it is admirably done, even to the smallest detail, the portrait could add but little to the fame of the clever author. But the case of Adrian Boldero is very different: his is the complex, contradictoriness of the ultra-modern individualist. Alany cross races.and hybrid stocks have gone to his make-up. His egoism, secretiveness, and greed lead him to the commission of a great literary crime, which his overweening conceit and morbid vanity forbid him to confess or atone for. ‘‘Jaff'ery was a war correspondent by trade (as regular an employment as that of the maker of hot cross buns) and a desperado b}’’ predilection. . . . Adrian was beyond doubt a clever fellow. He had obtained a first class in the Law Tripos, and had done well in his Bar examination. But after 14 years or so he was making twopence-halfpenny by his profession. He made another three farthings, say, by selling elegant verses to magazines. He dined out a great deal, and spent much of his time in country houses, being a very popular and agreeable person. His other means of livelihood consisted of an allowance of four hundred a year made him by his mother. Beyond the social graces he had not distinguished himself. And now —he had written an epoch-making novel.” It is around the “making of this” novel that the plot turns. In spite of the difference in character and circumstances between them, Jaffery and Adrian are fast friends, the quartet being completed by Hillary Freeth, the writer of the chronicle, and Tom Castleton, already dead —“ a brilliant, impossible, feckless fellow, a slave of adverse circumstances, and the only genius of the four.” The perspicacious reader soon comes to the conclusion that there is a mystery about Adrian’s novel; but it is some time before he and the other two friends discover that it has been stolen from the dead Castleton. So far the story is not without precedent, such literary robbery being not unknown, although the circumstances in this care are particularly aggravated. But the author’s skill is shown in the manner in which he depicts the effects of the crime on the criminal himself —the slow, steady deterioration of chai'acter, the mental anguish (not on account of the crime, but because he cannot keep it up by writing other books equal with the first, as demanded by his pocket, his publisher, and his public), and the inevitable deterioration and disintegration of the body which follow the mental unrest. And the whole is done with so light a touch, so intimately interwoven with the heroic deeds of the amazing Jaffery and his female counterpart, Liosha, not to mention the delightful home life of Hillary, his wife Barbara, and their little daughter Susan, that the tragedy and its infinite pathos is scarcely realised to its full spiritual significance. In which it is a true picture of life as we know it, providing a marvellous testimony to the psychological skill of the novelist. Humour and pathos, tragedy and comedy, life and death, hope and despair, are in every chapter; and if the good is finally victorious it is surely due to the "Vision of the true artist.