Books Literary Gossip

Wanganui Herald, Volume LIII, Issue 160733, 20 August 1920, Page 6

Books Literary Gossip

The last volumes, numbers five to six, of,, the “Life of Benjamin Disraeli,” ''Were published a few' weeks ago, bringing to an end the monumental work that the lat-e Mr W. F. Monypenny began, and Mr G. E. Buckle continued. We wonder whether there will ever again be a six-voumo biography. How many people have inclination or time to read one in these days? Morley managed to deal with Gladstone in three volumes, and Morley could hardly be dull if he tried. The people who visit the secondhand bookshops are often as entertaining as the books themselves (says an English writer). Take for instance, the burly and bucolic gentleman in a billycock hat, who was seen outside one of these establishments the other day, lost in the pages of Maeterlinck’s “Life of the Bee.” The traffic of the pavement surged about him, but still he read on, and when the watchful shopkeeper came to the door from time to time, he found him reading yet. At last he closed the volume with an approving grunt, and, tapping its cover with a thick forefinger, addressed the bookseller. “I suppose now,” he said, “you don’t happen to have a book by that chap on cow r s ?” The rain falls on the just and the unjust/ and publishers’ cheques are sent to the naughty as well as the good, remarks a writer in the “Chris tian -Science Monitor.” No one can read without anger, or with amusement if ironically fashioned, the statement that Ludendorff. Hinden.fi i.-g a.id 'von Kluck have bought casths in German Switzerland from the royalties they received from their .war books. They were paid in dollars and pounds ; they thrived on the depreciation of the mark. If Thomas Hardy adds to “The Dynasts” a volume on the Great War, the spectacle of these three defeated generals making fortunes out of' books explaining their defeat, and shifting the blame to somebody else, should provide amazing material... for his ironical pen. “A vast number of books, of all grades of goodness or badness, are at present coming to us from America, says a review'd’ in the Westminster Gazette, and it is at first sight a little difficult to pick upon any character common to them all which differentiates thorn from present-day English books. Indeed, after reading a good number ox the average productions of both countries, one is forced to the conclusion -that American books are really uncommonly like English ones, save for an occasional verbal or idiomatic difference. Yet we think that in all but their very best works, which we ara not at the moment discussing, American authors, even more than English cues, fail to balance exactly the aesthetic and material elements of life; arL appears too often to them a thing to be treated cither with scorn or with ritual. Whereas the truth is, if we may speak so* presumptuously, that, if no one made poems, no one could make -sewing-machines, and vice-versa-.” In one of the books that inspired these remarks, an American essayist asks this question: “Did Shakespeare, or Gcethc, or Whitman, or Buddha, or Tolstoy, or Confucius, or Rousseau, ever ’teach you as important lessons as you learned from your parents, from your worthy and intelligent neighbours, from the leading men of practical affairs in yom nwn country and age? They did not, and you know it.” We should say it depended on the parents and the neigh- | hours. Mr Thomas Hardy celebrated his eightieth birthday a few weeks ago, and received nation-wide congratulations. The recognition on this occasion of his place in letters by -the Press is proof that Hardy has come into the fame that is his duo. He had a long struggle in his earlier days. The story goes that “Under the Greenwood Tree” was such a failure as to find its way . into the “fourpenny box” of*the second ' hand bookshops', and that the mere chance of a copy being picked up by an editor on the look-out for talent gave the author his first commission for a serial. * That editor was Green wmed, wTio was attracted by the title /vf the book. Even “Tess” hung fire.;its type -was just going to be distributed when its merits began_ to be noticed. Many of our readers will remember the storm, about “Teas,” and the still greater one about “Jude, the Obscure.” The controversy has died down, partly through widening racognition of his genius, partly because so many novel ists dabble or wallow in the sex question. Hardy has written nothing but poetry .since’'“Jude,” and his “Dynasts” is acclaimed as one of the great imaginative works of tho age. -An English writer remarks that ho belongs to tho generation of writers who regarded writing not as a trade but as a call in". Like Meredith, who shares with him the honours of later Yictorian fiction, he wrote according to his high standard of an artist’s conscience, and never deliberately lowered that standard in order to sell more books, STILL WAITING POE GREAT WRITER. A good deal of criticism of the “high brow” kind has been directed against prize novel competitions, on th© ground that stories written to order cannot ha literature. Inquiries reveal, however, that very few of the M.S.S. submitted

OF INTEREST TO LOVERS OP READING.

are written expressly for the respective competitions. Mainly they are novels that have been going the round for months, sometimes for years. Occasion ally they are novels that the author;} have been finishing when they saw the competition announced, and have been thrown in on the chance of luck putting them in immediate possession of a handsome sum of money. There is thus no reason why on© day a prize scheme should not discover a new great writer. It must be admitted, however, that this is still an unrealised hope, at any rate, so far ’as we have been able to colled data. C! ETHEL DELL’S LATEST. Ethel M. Dell’s latest work of fiction, supplies of which should be to hand shortly, is titled “The Top of the World.” This is the love story of a girl, Sylvia Ingleton, who pins all her faith upon the lover of her early youth trusting him so implicitly that, after five years’ separation from him, she i-3 not afraid to turn to him for refuge when the second marriage of her father makes her own home no longer endurable. But Guy Ranger, the lover, fails her at the most critical moment of her life, and she is thrown instead upon the chivalry of his cousin, Burke Ranger. Burke Banger, who has been strongly drawn to her from the outset, -makes. her a proposal of marriage, and she finally decides to accept.it on condition that he will be satisfied to regard it purely as a business transaction. To this he agrees, and the plan works for a time with great success. Then, just as Burke is beginning to win that upon which he has set his heart, news comes of Guy sunk in the depths of vice and misery, and at once all Sylvia’s thoughts become concentrated upon'his redemption. The rest of the story deals with the bitter struggle between the old love and the new, and the dangers and .difficulties of the path which leads at last to that region at the top of the world which it is given to onisf“a few travellers to find. “The Vanity Girl,” by Compton McKenzie. (A. D. Willis and Son.) Anything Compton McKenzie* writes attracts attention, and his latest work of fiction, “The Vanity Girl,” is no exception to the rule. It is a bright book and full of interest, as it depicts the life of a young woman of the stage. It deals with her ambitions, and shows how she eventually succeeded in'*capturing Lord Clarehaven as a prize. He did not, however, come up to expectations, and when he commenced gambling and racing horses his downfall was meteoric. That consummation was assisted by a professed friend, who* was more anxious to get Lady Clarehaven than to assist her husband. When war broke out Lord Clarehaven went to the war and, like many other gallant Englishmen, he made good at the expense of his life. Then came the opportunity of the professed friend to .get possession of the widow, he having already secured the estates. Ail the better instincts of' Lady Clarehaven opposed such a union, but she had her son’s future "to think of. Consequently she promised marriage, provided the holder of her son’s estates gave them back again. The bargain was made, and the estates of the sixth heir of Clarehaven reverted back to the rightful owner. Lady Clarehaven considered that in her enterprise she had succeeded in redeeming the position lost by her husband and so did a big thing for the future of the Glarehavens. The story is intensely human and cleverly worked out. It should bo a good seller. “The Plunderer,/” by Henry Oyen. (H. I. Jones and Son.) “The Plunderer” is a first-class book, and will be read with very great interest. The opening chapters deal with the opposition of Roger Payne to office life. He belonged to the big open spaces of the world, and he broke away, as many a man longs to do. He went up the Florida River to develop 1000 acres ■of land which he had acquired from a company. When he reached his selection he found that it was under water, and that to work.it extensive drainage operations were necessary. In fact, the undertaking was so desperate that few men would have stayed to see it through. Roger Payne was made of the right metal, but in less than a week he was fleeing for his Ufa across the Devil’s Garden. He was the first man to come out of the great Florida swalnp alive. That was only the beginnig of his fight against a most corrupt and dangerous gang of swindlers, led by the Plunderer--a ruthless, fascinating dtvilman, whose power reached even to the United States’ Senate. Roger Payne had also to light for his woman, and the final of the dual contest he won. “The Plunderer” is one of the best stories of its kind H. I. Jones and Son have dispensed for some time.