BOOKS AND AUTHORS

Wanganui Chronicle, 24 December 1949, Page 3

BOOKS AND AUTHORS

(By H.C.J.). SKETCHING. “Come Sketching,” by Percy E. Bradshaw (Studio Publications), pp. 96. There is only one sound reason for anyone engaging in the game of sketching and that is to find out the run that is to be had from such a pastime. There are plenty of advantages to be gained; from this source of enjoyment, but the main and principal purpose’is to get the fun. The fun of sketching is unique, probably, in that it is all absorbing. One has a complete holiday from oneself. If, or instance, one goes out into the country and sits down beside some ordinary bridge and starts sketching it the bridge wins, it absorbs all one’s attention. No matter how simple the structure, it will present enough problems for the sketcer’s solution to demand a complete forgetfulness of anything and everything else. It is like going into a trance which one can step out of at will. The secondary pleasure is to be found creeping up on one unawares, it is the increasing consciousness of things beautiful and interesting that previously passed unnoticed; after that comes a precision of vision, and after that again there develops visual memory. It is no great feat for the sketcher to look at a landscape, go home and draw its main features accurately. This power will not come in a day, but it will come. So besides the fun of sketching, no matter how well or ill, there are additional advantages to be gained as a sort of artistic makeweight. Percy Bradshaw is an enthusiast for the game of sketching. He seems to be a sort of minor apostle of art. He does not shirk the secondary part, and so In this volume which I am supposed to be reviewing, he invites you to listen in while he converses with the leading English artists of today— Frank Brangwyn, Russell Flint, Sydney R. Jones, Francis Marshall, Bertram Nicholls, Fred Taylor, G. F. Tunnicliffe and Norman Wilkinson. Each contributes his quotas of actual sketches. Some of these have been done hurriedly, some are samples of early work, but each sketch is an inspiration. The pencil is a wonderful instrument; it provides opportunities undreamt of by the average man, but it also enables each artist to express his personality. Anyone interested in drawing who goes through this volume could turn to any page at random and in a short, time say wh’ica artist’s work is displayed thereon. Each artist has his own distinctive style. The pencil has tended to be neglected in these days when a splash of paint may be regarded as a picture, but these masters stored up accurate information and impressions and it is these quick efforts which over the years mounted up to make them the masters of their craft. The amateur 'is not expected to vie with these professionals, but he is encouraged, to 'ollow in their footsteps. He need not try to copy anyone else’s style. By the time he had perused this volume sufficiently, and he will return to it again and again, he will know that his own style will evolve and will take care of itself. There is no need to push it in any particular direction. The reader may on first reading' find continual intrusion of Percy Bradshaw between the reader and the subject a little annoying. It is surprising that this fault should be persisted in by one Who can write well. On returning to it after the first reading, It ceases to bother one and in any case the editor cannot intrude between the reader and the drawings which are the chief delight. This fault apart, Bradshaw sometimes throws in some illuminating comment of his , own that is worthy of remembering. It is interesting to learn from his volume that Sir W. Russell Flint is engaged in writing a book about his work and himself. PLAIN MURDER.

Murder Unplanned, by Eileen Adams St. Clair Craig (Quality Press) p.p. 126. When for the sake of an unhappy woman a man plans murder and finds it too difficult to accomplish without detection and then knows himself involved in an unintentional murder for the sake of—well that is the catch in the story—he is inclined to get very bittr. This murderer did. His mental processes while planning his fell deed and his after reactions are cleverly portrayed in this story withou t destroying the popular features of the thriller. It is assuredly a good piece of writing from a purely craftsmanship point of view. It’s a good threller written with brains and insight. AUTHOR IN ARMS.

Broken linages, by John Guest. (Longmans) p.p. 231. When a man of peace, whose chief interest in life is literature, and who has a turn penchant for uoetry gets pitchforked into the armed services during war time, many things are going to be broken. So found Johhn Guest; he therefore tried his level best to preserve that inner life in which he treasured the true and the beautiful.! There were others with him who made the same valiant effort and, despite the callouses of the harsh contacts with reality, the author of this book certainly achhieved it. In so doing he enriched the fibre of his mind and gathered some very delightful impressions and pictures.

Life in the Hackney Marsh down on the Thames side, with its fennel-cover-ed areas of waste, still carries secrets of its own and John Guest was not surprised to discover the great interest taken in this region by naturalists. The movement around England in wartime was faithfully recorded in letters to a friend and it would be hard to disbelieve that when these pages were being penned the author had not an eye to subsequent publication. This is to the good because it induced him to do his work well. The pictures of North Africa, and the narrative of his adventures, are graphic. While most people will find this Protestant automatically standing Up and shaking hands with the Pope addressing him as “Sir” an intriguing incident. His being charmed by the personality of His Holiness and convinced that, here was a very good man is one of the highlights of his narrative of a visit to Rome and the Vatican. “Certainly while I was in Rome I heard many popular expressions of affection for him—not the rather aggressive lip service that one often hears from English Catholics—but something more akin to what one hears of the Royal Family at home— I must say that the atmosphere of the Vatican is totally different from much that. I dislike in Roman Catholicism: it is dignified and simple in character despite the splendor of the setting. The Pope beyond question is ’a man of God.’ The trouble with so many of his followers, to my mind, is that they are inclinded to modify intellectual and spiritual integrity in order to maintain at all costs the grip in which they hold their flock.” The author was not impressed by the conduct of the Italians towards German prisoners of war. “Some behaved abominably.” The whole war bore I him and he made no comment on atrocities and that sort of thing. As a soldier’s journal this book would interest many people, but to those who find the effect of war experience upon the minds of men more intriguing this is an engaging book.