A LITERARY LOG.

Southland Times, Issue 18810, 1 May 1920, Page 11

A LITERARY LOG.

ABOUT BOOKS &. BOOKMEN

(By “lota/')

May I, 1920. For Those Who Love Gardens. —l am a poor gardener; hut I love gardens and the books written by people who love them. They are usually so discursive, so full of h'„cle moralising* and sweetmeats of outof the-way information that they make charming companions, not for the out-of-floors. but tor the big roomy ann-chair in front of a satisfying fire and behind a dutiful pipe. Just such a book is “Little Ilnurs in Great Days,” which moves serenely from roses to wars, and gardeners to warriors, from adventures in the making of flower beds to pictures of wounded soldiers. If you have read and enjoved "A Little If ouse in War Time,” you will want this continuation by Agnes and Egerton Castle, those makers of charming novels of the times of the four Georges. The Signora Castle contributes four chapters from her own pen, and she evidently assisted the male member of the firm in the making of the others, but it is interesting in the reading of the book to mark the introduction of the masculine touch. The talk about “Garden Kriemlships” betrays the feminine hand throughout, with its delicate sympathy and its shrewd understanding of the male, whether it be some Aussie or Canadian soldier, or the redoubtable G.B.S. The Signora is a passionate lover of flowers and she is right when she declares that ‘‘unlike most other passions, the praise of them does not wear;/ the ears of those similarly kindled. If the lover were to chant poems on his beloved's eyebrows, the tilt of her eyelashes, the curve of her cheek, the peculiar virtue of her taper finger, how extraordinary tiresome he would become, es[H’cially to those who are enslaved by another eyebrow, other eyelashes, different fingers! Vastly different it is with us, garden enthusiasts. Wo are thrilled to hear of our rival’s successes. We nice to gaze at his lady's perfections. Divine discontent possesses our souls." The signor's hand shows heavily, though he is not without. his lightness. In the garden he does not seem to possess the same overwhelming enthusiasm and he enjoys most the chronicling of the signora's adventures and the misbehaviour of Dorothy Perkins on a garden wall, while he simply revels during his talk about “Garden Failures," in a lifesize portrait of one Mullins, a gardener with a deaf ear and a distaste of interference by his employers—be left because the signora cut a cabbage without asking permission! A true tyrannical gardener. In “The Soul of the Soldier" there are some fine little snapshots of warriors at the Little House, and the signor continues his excellent work in the succeeding chapter, headed with that most moving of all words. “Mother.” It is all pleasing and valuable, but the signor tviil pardon me if I say that throughout I prefer the. work of the charming signora-—• she loves flowers with the deeper love; he likes writing about gardens and people. The book comes from Constables and my copy from the Australasian Publishing Company, of Sydney.

Super Golf.—The editor of : 'Golfing” has written a book, :i small book of great things and Messrs Simpfcm, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent and Co., Ltd. (it is well that they limited the names in the firm at this stage > has published it. But, alack! I know cot of "gob,” as my hopeful calls it, and I confess to being fearful in such a community as ours of attempting anything in the nature of a review of not merely golf, but ‘‘Super Golf.” I found the book very interesting, quite intelligible, and it will probably result in my buying a bag, •ome gay stockings and a stick- I mean, a cinb or two. In the meantime, however. I shall refer the work to ‘‘Cleek." who knows of the dark mysteries of the cult, and I will Leave the fate of Hubert Browning (not the poet, but the author of the booki in his hands. 1 may add that the copy that came to me was sent by the Australasian Publishing Company, of Sydney.

About the Politicians.—Mr Wilfrid Scawea Blunt, who is now in his eightieth year, was on very close terms with the late George Wyndham, to whom he was related, and with Mr Winston Churchill, and in his reminiscences, which have been published under the title ‘‘My Diaries” he has given to the public some “inside” information regarding political events and political personalities. The second volume of the ■'Diaries” has just been published and it is attracting more attention than the first. In this volume he reveals to the public some of the frank statements by Mr Churchill, which obviously were not intended for public consumption. Mr Churchill is reported as having said on one occasion, when ho was a member of the Liberal Government: —“Asquith is a very simple-minded man, very ingenuous, hut he has a wonderful talent for work, and the clearest possible head for business. He will sit up playing bridge and drinking lace at night, and yet in the morning he will come to his office or to the House and enter into the most complicated business with his head entirely clear, and work on for six or seven hours.” On another page the author quotes Mr Churchill as saying that the Liberals when in office were always more polite to the King than the Tories were. "The Tone.-; were in the habit of considering they were doing quite enough for the King by being in office nnrl protecting him from the Radicals and Socialists without showing special politeness; but Liberal Ministers showed him the greatest consideration, thus balancing things between the parties,”

New Authors For Old.—The attitude of the new authors to the old is displayed in an article in the Daily Chronicle by Mr Philip Gibbs, dealing with the ban on the work of new authors. Mr Gibbs, who had blossomed forth as a novelist before the war. was one.of the small hand of officially war correspondents with the British army in. v ranee, and earned distinction for has work. v.h;-h was carried out under condition.- that were always difficult and often dangerous. In the article referred to he states: —"At a time when wc arc all exTwting a. literary renaissance it is a blow- r.o one s hor .-.-.- ■Dam from British publishers chat the increased cost of book production will prevent the arrival of adventurous youth, and limit the output of the works of 'established reputations.’ The reading public has had enough of those ‘established reputations,’ and would be glad, I fancy, to see them put on the top shelf not without honour according to their merit, tc make way for newcomers with new tales to tell, or new ways of telling old tales, or new ideas about a new world. Those ‘es-fcfali.-hed reputations’ belong to the past. They are Rip Van Winkles, whose present garrulity is as tedious as the reminiscences of toothless senility. Some of them were great in their time, and their best work will Kve as an inspiration, with the undying freshness of wisdom and hvtauty, long after their “latest work’ has appeared in the publishercatalogue-. Some of them are sensible enough to know that they arc already dead, as far as the power of creation, goes, and do not produce feeble imitations of their early achievements. They are wise in their silence. Kven reputations ‘established’ only a few years before the war are as oldfashioned in their way of looking at life as Chariotte Bronte would be now if she came bewk to write about the relations of tho sexes. Something has happened in the world which has destroyed all their ‘values.’ The rornj nticisrn of some of them was withered up under the v/faite light of ghastly realities. The realism of others has been made as false as London stucco unpainted thrring five years of war. Publishers will find that there will be a frightful slump In ‘established reputations’ whom they now regard as their only source of safety.”

Some New Publications.— “ German Spies at Bay,’’ by Sidney Theodore Felstead. This the secret and authentic history of the German spies in Great Britain, compiled from official sources. (Price here, 10/6K “Sniping in France,” by Major H. Ilis keth-Brichard, is described as a unique

book. The author was practically responsible for the founding and running of the sniping school and our sniping system in France. (Price 15/-). “Behind the Scenes at German Headquarters,” is by Henri Domelier, who was the secretary of the Municipal Commission which acted as intermediary between the townsmen of Charleville and the German authorities, and had ample opportunity to observe their behaviour. (Price 12/6). “My Three Years in America,” in which Count Bernstorff (ex-German Ambassador to the United States of America t gets off a counterblast to Gerard’s “My Four Years in Germany.” (Price .10/-). In “The Downfall,” General von Stein gives his reminiscences of the World War. Appointed Quartermaster-General in August, 1914, von Stein was made the scapegoat of the German failure at the battle of the Marne. (IS/6). “Fleet Street and Downing Street,” by Kennedy Jones, M.P. The growth, power and influence of the daily newspaper. This important work is divided into the following sections: —1. Growth of the Daily Press, 1695-1S85; 2 The Modern Newspaper, 18851912; 3 The Business and Psychology of Journalism. (18/5). “Industrial Anarchy and the Way Out,” is the solution to the present day puzzle offered by W. Walter Crotch. (3/6). “My Bohemian Days,” by Harry- Furniss should be full of good stories and drawings. (Price 18/6). Joseph Conrad's new story, ‘The Rescue: The Romance of a Disinterested Adventurer.” is announced in Messrs Dent's list. The story appeared last year as a serial in “Land and Water.’ The same publishers have added Conrad’s novel. “The shadow Line," to their- “Wayfarer’s Library,” Daisy Ashford’s publishers will bring out this spring a complete edition of her works, including “The Hangman’s Daughter.” “'Where 1 save Lies Deepest,” “Leslie Woodcock,’’ and “A Short Story of Liove and Marriage.” To them will be added the sole existing novel by Angela Ashford, “The Jeik> os Governess.”

These Poets! These Poets! — Gastev, a popular Bolshevik poet, thus describes the working day under the Bolshevia regime:

When the morning sirens sound in the working suburbs, it is not at all a call to subjection. It is the song of the futuio. Some time ago we toiled in wretched workshops and began to work in the morning at various times. And now the sirens sound at eight o’clock for a whole million. A whole million take up the hammer in one and the same instant. . . Our first strokes thunder together. Of what sing the sirens? It is the morning hymn of unity.

It is iron (according to the Bolsheviks) that has given the proletarians the power to win freedom, and they worship blood and iron with Bismarckian fervour. This spirit naturally leads to excesses of icouoclasm. Everything that is must be destroyed SO make room for the is-to-be. The following is an example of Bolshevik verse, which is in the spirit of the Italian Futurists;—

In the name of our to-morrow we will burn Rafael, Destroy museums, crush under our feet the flowers of art. Maidens in the radiant kingdom of the future Will be more beautiful than Venus de Milo.

General William Booth Enters into Heaven, and Other Poems. —By Mrs Nicholas Vachel Lindsay, is being seriously noticed by Hindoo. Reviewers. This verse is taken from the chief poem in the volume;—

Booth led boldly with his big bass drum — (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) The Saints smiled gravely and they said: “He’s come.” (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb ?) Walking lepers followed, rank on rank, Lurching bravoes from the ditches dank, Drabs from the alleyways and drug-fiends pale— Minds still passion-ridden, soul-powers frail;— Vermin-eaten saints with mouldy breath, Unwashed legions with the ways of Death—(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb ?)