LITERATURE

Otago Witness, Issue 3277, 3 January 1917, Page 53

LITERATURE

BOOK NOTICES. "Austro-Huhgarian Atrocities: Report on the Kingdom of Serbia." Bv R. A. Reiss, U.Sc. English translation by F. S. Copeland. London: Simpkins, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent, and Co. (Cloth, 5s net; illustrated.)

Tho barbarous methods of warfare and the cruelties inflicted on the civil population of invaded countries, as.practised by the German army in Belgium and Northern France, have been faithfully imitated by her Austrian ally in Serbia, as shown by the official report now before us, prepared at the express request, and issued under tho authority, of the Serbian Government. This volume is a ghastly record of crimes against humanity such as make the blood run cold or ire it to a passionate, futile indignation; and, lest any detail should be missing or any doubt concerning possible exaggeration exist in the reader's mind, the cut-and-dried official report is interspersed with photos that cannon lie, showing the effect of "explosive bullets" and the wounds caused by them; the state of bombarded towns and villages; soldiers killed after giving themselves up as prisoners; Serbian peasants harmed; other peasants massacred and mutilated, including many women, one over 78, also "young persons from 15 to 17 years of age," outraged and slaughtered ; a house where "100 women and children were burned alive," and a "common pit in which 109 civilians wore buried alive," etc. In these Reports no journalistic methods are employed. Nothing is "written up." Bare facts are given, supported on oath by credible witnesses, and —wherever possible—by the victims themselves. Evidence that cannot _ be shaken or controverted. Atrocities engineered and carried out by those in authority, even the very highest. The crimes are proved. The evidence js unimpeachable. What shall be said for the criminals? This volume is a ghastly commentary on Mr Wilson's futile utterances and Germany's so-called "Peace Note." Its effect must be to strengthen the Allies' determination "to fight to the last man and the last ditch."

"My Wife." By Edward Burke, author "of "Bachelor's Buttons." London: Herbert Jenkins. (Cloth, 3s 6d.)

The author of "Bachelor's Buttons" was hailed by at least six noted British reviewers 'as "a new humourist." It is therefore a good deal to say that Mr Edward Burke's second literary venture is in no way behind his first, either in humour or iii that touch of humanity and occasional pathos which forms the proper contrast and rounding off of humour as distinct from wit. Gertrude, "my wife," is an admirable peg on which the author hangs numerous sly witticisms and outrageous accusations against the "eternal feminine." She is domestic, economical, attentive, capable, and good-looking; but she if- not "romantic," that element being supplied by "the dark Rosaloen," his "boyhood's" love," who looms up from the past clad in all the glamour of "the impossible She." Everything that Gertrude does or does not is mentally compared with Rosaleen's supposed action under lika circumstances. Gertrude is not supposed to know anything of all this; but, of course, the workings of the masculine mind are not hidden from her. The two have been married nearly 20 years, and have two grown-up children. Rupert and Pamela. Parn is the mederne.-t of modern girls; she calls her father "Old Thing" and cheeks him abominably ; but he adores her. and her lovers audi love affairs form an important item in Hlis, " full-of-fun " yarn. A few quotations will give a good idea of some of the author's smart saying- : ' To be the perfect husband it is first of all necessary to be tho perfect liar. With Bosalecn I could have told the truth all the time, which I should infinitely prefer. It is much less strain, and does not require the same memory. Rccaleen also would have told the truth all the time. Now and then I have 'detected Gertrude in a fib. All women, ■with one exception, do it, I believe. They have not the same sense of honour as men. T am not a tyrannical man. hut I am firm. One has to be. I do not often put my foot down; yet when T do, it stavs down. Gertrude decided to send Pam to a smart school of Continental immorals and many matrimonial triumphs. I said. "No, not my daughter," and she was not sent till a whole term later. . . . When I forbade my wife to show herself in public in the tightest of tight skirts, or the shortest and widest of the wide, she only showed herself in public in private, and I should never have known of it save for the chance remark of a man T knew. Women have an absurd way of living the past, of comparing the present to it, and comparing the nresent unfavourably. Not quite playing the game. I consider. A thing that is done with is done with —or ought to he. . . . For a -woman marriage is everything—at least it should be: hut modern women have rather a distressing way of talking about it. even criticising it. A man has given her everything her heart ran desire. It is only fair that she should give something to her husband : the virtues one takes for granted, also a heart free of old rubbish, eager to enshrine thrt one. . Spring cleaning. A most idiotic name. Anv man could tell you it is actually spring dirtying. All the dust that has settled down quietly, and doesn't shovr and onlv asks to be let alone, germs and all is stirred up. Instead of being under the carpet it is on your furniture and in your food. You are told to get out of the way; vou are pushed here and there: you —oh, confound it all—doesn't every husband know what it means, and cuTse the day he became one ?

"Greenmantle." Bv John Buchan. London : Hodder arid Stoughton. (Cloth ; 3s 6d.) Mr John Buchan is a man of many moods and much varied literary expression, as those who have followed his career and remember his powerful stories—- " The Half-hearted," "The Watcher by the Threshold," etc.—will readily acknowledge. Since the war broke out he has treated us to one or two brilliant stories of adventure embodying the Romance of the Twentieth Century as it is unrolled before our eyes from hour to hour. "The Thirty-nine Steps" and "The Powerhouse " dealt with Homo experiences. " Greenmantle " is wider in scope and more ambitious in construction. It takes us to the Near East, to the slums of Constantinople, and the fortified heights of Erzerum. It relates the doings of four secret service men, three of whom pass through the heart of Germany and Austria, while the fourth joins them by way of Mesopotamia and the desert tribes. Their mission is to discover a plot for a Jehad or holy war, originating among the Turks and Arabs, but engineered and encouraged by the Germans, the consummation of which would have been more deadly and far-reaching in its effect on the Allies than the Western offensive. To discover and, if possible, circumvent this plot, Major Hannay and his companions undertake a task of such difficulty, requiring such amazing intuition, that they seem preordained to ignominious failure and death. Yet they win through. And the story of how they jio it, their marvellous adventures arid hair-breadth escapes, is well worth reading. "Greenmantle" is indeed a "first-class novel of adventure, action, skill, daring, and unbounded bluff. The excitement never flags. One. adventure follows another, each, more exciting than the last. Once begun, no reader will willingly put it down until the final denouement is reached, and he can breathe again. Since the appearance of " She " one can scarcely remember a more engrossing and thrilling yarn.

"Dolores, Our Lady of Pain." By Algernon Charles Swinburne. London : Cliatto and Windus. (Is net.) This most dainty and delightful booklet is a sample of a new reprint of Swinburne's works to be completed in 36 volumes. It is a perfect gem to carry in one's pocket and read and dream over on a summer holiday.