THE NEW BOOKS

Waikato Times, Volume 117, Issue 19597, 8 June 1935, Page 18 (Supplement)

THE NEW BOOKS

BLANDINGS CASTLE. Mr Wodehouse Makes Us Happy “ Blandings Castle and Elsewhere,’-’ by P, G. Wodehouse (Herbert Jenkins). In his introduction to the present volume Mr Wodehouse notes the modern tendency to fall into the saga habit. Not content with four books about the ninth earl of Emsworth, his son, the Honourable Freddie, his butler Beach, and his pig, the Empress, the author has at various other tlme3 "felt the Blandings Castle craving creeping over him.” The opening stories in the present book represent "the shorter snorts in between the the more solid orgies.” They have appeared, most of them, at different times In the " Strand Magazine," but it la undoubtedly a good thing to have them collected together In a single volume. Blandings 'Castle is in Blankshlre (or Is It -Loamshlre?) and one expects Mr Wodehouse to know all the people In that oounty, who are worth knowing. Having in mind the author’s preoccupation In recent years wiih the Threepwoods, the Woosters, and others of the feebler-minded English aristocrats, It comes as something of a shock to find oneself tramportel tt Hollywood In the last few stories of tho book. But Mr Wodghouse knows his United States. ‘Did«• no'. Psmith spend some of his best years there? Of the American stories the author says In the preface that they embody "the secret history of Hollywood as It b whispered over the malted milk when the boys get together In the cornmlssery." It would give us great hopes for American humour if we could only believe It.

To pass to what the reader of a review always wants to; know—although he never finds it out till the final paragraph of 'the Review and sometimes not even then—Mr Wo-de-bouse's latest stories are right up to form and definitely worth reading. Mellow and mellifluous phrases run as happily down his pen as ever. And few, I think, would deny that it is these purple patches—perhaps one should call them “high spots"—'Which are the chief glory of Mr Wodehouse and contrive to make into lasting pleasures stories that, in other hands, would be merely commonplace. erriD.B.P. AN ENGLISH ‘GEOGRAPHIC’ Notable New Magazine. THE GEOGRAPHICAL MAGAZINE, Vol. 1, No. 1 (May, 1935;. The appearanoe of tho first number of this magazine Is an event. It is popular in style, not written for the expert- But its articles are, as the editor claims, ‘‘short, Interesting, and also authoritative.” Most of the contributors are well known to readers of books about the remote places of the earth. Captain Key don Ward, the eminent botanist, whose account of his travels in Tibet recently appeared, has, for instance, an article on India’s north-east frontier. And Mr J. M. Soott, whose bo_ok on Labrador, was published last year, deals with the difficulties of an Anotlo air route. Particular interest naturally centres on an Interesting and well-informed article on a -country now much In tho news, Abyssinia. (Continued In next column.)

MURDER OF A TYRANT. Ingenious Mystery Story. "The Hobgoblin Murder,’’ by K. Oleaver Strahan (Methuen). This is quite a good detective novel. It is also quite a good thriller. The two terms are not, despite current usage, really synonymous. A good detective novel should provide a problem to be solved; and it should go about the business of solving it in a straightforward. workmanlike manner. It need be no more thrilling than a crossword puzzle or a problem in mathematics.

Mrs Strahan has set her problem with skill and Ingenuity. The murders that are solved by fictitious deteotlves nearly always -have to take place In a house crammed full -of more or less suspicious characters, all of whom have an excellent motive for the crime. One Imagines that Inventing excuses for the existence of such a household must be among the hardest of the author’s tasks. Mrs Strahan has managed It quite neatly. Her victim is a particularly mean and malicious old maid, who has (Tyrannised for years over her servants and her two sisters, who are financially dependent on her—while she lives. We have thus an excellent motive, ready made, and Involving the whole household equally. Moreover, living in an atmosphere of petty tyranny for nearly fifty years has made them all somewhat eccentric, and consequently they all fall into the category of suspicious characters. And the detective (who Is, rather surprisingly, a woman), does, on the whole, play fair. She does make an honest attempt to think her way through the mystery from the beginning, a feat of which very few modern detectives seem capable. Most of them simply stumble on the solution through a series of lucky accidents. Even in this novel the solution, when it -comes at last, Is arrived at a little too' easily, and on somewhat slender evidence. Moreover, one feels that in providing such a -solution the author Is not altogether playing fair with her readers. But at least it can be said that the reader Is unlikely to guess it.

So much for the novel as a deteotlve story. As a -thriller, it depends for Its interest on the old house where the three sisters have been living—two of them virtually prisoners—for forty-seven years. One does not, of course, believe in the malignant, old tyrant who -meets so richly deserved a fate; and one does not really believe in the assemblage of -odd fish who surround her. But, granting this Inherent improbability, Mrs Strahan has created the atmosphere of such a household with considerable skill; and has shown the effects of living In It with some Insight. Altogether, this is above the average of such novels; though that is partly because the average is deplorably low. —D.H.M.

The whole magazine Is magnificently illustrated by very plentiful photographs of outstanding quality. In respect of Its photographs the magazine can hold up its head in comparison with any In the world. The editor has wisely -refrained from -filling his pages with gaudy -coloured pictures. The only -coloured view included is beyond reproach. It is pleasing to see that the publishers have decided to devote half the profits of the magazine to the building up of a fund to encourage exploration.

THOUQHT FOR THE WEEK. “No man was ever great without Divine Inspiration.” BPIDERS. We know that spiders are not Insects, but are more akin to crabs and lobsters, because they have eight legs, and insects have six. They walk with the longest of their legs, usually the first and fourth pairs, hairy legs provided with claws. Their legs are userul lir other ways, and serve as organs of hearing, scent and feeling. It is not known If spiders have any sense of taste. They have a pair or six-jointed limbs, which are called “ pM*l,” sensitive organs, conveying Information to the brain and serving in various ways. Much of the spider’s body Is hairy, but the halr3 are not like our own; “setae,” they are called, and these, too, may be sense organs, and useful to the spinners. They protect the legs and abdomen. Moreover, they may be like a wireless set, sensitive to sound waves. Some spiders have body hairs, which will pierce the hand of the unwary and set up an irritation; there must be a gland under the skin from which a poison Hows along the hairs. Jumping spiders have 'hairs which allow them to cling fast to vertical surfaces. The hairs are also used by different spiders as combs for combing out fine strands of silk, or for flinging a sheet of silk over a struggling victim. Spiders mainly depend on touch In their everyday lifa and their touch is marvellously delicate. If we pluck at the single weh of one or the web-splders, though the owner be In hiding, It Is at once aware of the vibration. All the hunting spiders seem to be deaf, though possibly they reel vibrations or the air which constitute sound, as some deaf persons can “ hear 1 certain One frequent habit of. the spider we havo all seen—that or drawing up its legs and remaining motionless In a sort _or trance. This we call “ shamming death,’ though we have no reason ror supposing that this Is the spider’s Idea, or that It had any Idea or death or'even knows what it Is doing. T.he action Is properly called a “ reflex action,” and Is as instinctive as what you do tr you accidentally touch a hot poker! All spiders appear to he “ sh'amming death ”If threatened. The web-splders go further and make an instantaneous drop from their webs on silken Sirch actions and others, like spinning, are Instinctive; they are perfectly carried