REVIEWS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLV, Issue 16, 19 April 1911, Page 48

REVIEWS.

Tse Black Pearl: By Noel Aimir. (Melbourne: George Robeitsoij and Co., 107 to 113 Elizabeth-street).

Theosophists will welcome this novel, which is distinguished by the chaste simplicity of its style. It is the story of an orphan, of French birth, in whose veins ran Hindoo blood thinned out by the lapse of three centuries, a lapse of time which, however counts for little in the theosophic calendar. Its raison d’etre, we think, is to prove that re incarnation really exists. And the author has certainly made out a very good ease. Outside its theosophical interest, the book is interesting as a genuine human document. It depicts the arrival of the heroine, Jeanne Dupleix, at the Australian station of her uncle and guardian, with whom she is henceforth to live. Then comes her betrothal to her cousin Hector, an Anglican minister; her belated inquiry into the tenets of that church, resulting in a determination that she cannot enter its fold, a determination which, of course, ends in the dissolving of her engagement with Hector, who thereupon tenders his services to the mission field at Molokai. Then misfortune overtakes Jeanne's uncle, who dies, and Jeanne is left friendless and penniless. Jeanne goes to Melbourne and after passing through grave straits, falls into the hands of kindly theosophists, who make clear to her much that has troubled, and confused her. There is a second love story, too. But if we outlined that we should give away by far the deepest fascination of the book. And so we strongly recommend the reader to buy the book and unravel the plot for himself. A delightful feature of the. book are the chapter- headings, ■which are extracts in prose and verse, from the works of Rabelais, Du Bellay, Pastor Wagner, E. Oarpentes, Alfred de Musset, and Annie Besant. We have received our copy from George Robertson and Co., and congratulate that firm on the attractive get-up of the book, which. both internally and externally, is equal to anything turned out by the “Home” publishers.

loaves from the Notebook of Lady Dorothy Nevill: Edited by Ralph Nevi 11. (London: Macmillan and Co. Those readers who belonged to Lady Dorothy Nevill’s generation, or those of the younger who take an interest in an ago that is not their own, and those also who were prevented from reading these “Notes, Memories, and Recollections” when they first appeared, on account of their prohibitive price, will be charmed to hear that Macmillan’s have just Issued a cheap reprint at one shilling net. This will probably mean one and threepence in this Dominion, but we can truthfully asseverate that it is the very

best value for the money we have ever seen given by any publisher. The book is strongly and attractively bouud in red cloth, is clearly printed on white paper, and the type is large enough to make reading it a pleasure. Lady Dorothy- seems to have had a passion for keeping scrap-books, into which she pasted any topical political squibs, journalistic cuttings, photographs, scraps of verse, menus of banquets, and Other trifles, all of which were supplemented by private little notes written at the time bearing on the article in question. So that these scrap-books form, unofficially-, a sort of political, economic, artistic and social history- of England from the time when Lady Dorothy began to collect down almost to the present time. Space forbids the inclusion of any extracts from the book in this issue, but we shall return to the book again. For ourselves, we regret quite as much as Lory Dorothy does that the type of aristocrat that flourished in her earlier days is. passing. For her reflections on modern conditions, though barbed, are winged with a kindly and a gracious sympathy and regretful tolerance that will appeal to the hearts and intellects of readers who count. We welcome cordially this popular reprint, which should sell freely, and congratulate Messrs. Macmillan and Co., from whom we have received the book, on their enterprise.

All the World Wonderd: By Leonard Merrick. (London Methuen and Co., Auckland:; Wildman and Arey, 3/6.) Mr Merrick is both virile, unconventional, terse, and realistic in style, and withal impressive. This is our first acquaintaince with him, and we like him very- much indeed. “All the World Wondered,” is the initial, of the nine short stories that comprise this book, and tells how a dramatie author, whose plays had never been staged, sold his birthright for a mess of pottage, the said pottage being the offer of a commercial career on the South African diamond fields, that would enable him, . to marry the girl of his choice, who was a mercenary, unsuccessful, second-rate actress. Now as has been demonstrated since the days of Esart, no man -can sell his birthright withmit paying the penalty attached to sd doing. George Hillier paid his. What that penalty was, and how Hillier, Under the laws of the new dispensation, came again into his own, we shall leave the reader to discover, as he certainly will, if once he dips into the story, “The Judgement of Paris,” the second tale of the book, is a modern rendering of tho classic story- bearing that title. “The Romance of Augustus Green,” is purely farcical. “A Fool and her Fad,” is a story all cranks ought to read. Indeed, all the numbers are so good that it is invidious to single out any single one. Mr Merrick is to Middle Bohemia what Rudyard Kipling is to Tommy Atkins,

keenly observant, warmly sympathetic and appreciative, because wholly understanding.

Marie Claire: By Madame Marguerite Audoux. (London: George Bell and Sons. Auckland: Wildman and Arey. 2/6 and 3/6.)

We have learned so much from reviews and written so much about “Marie Claire” that now it has come to hand there is nothing new to say about it, except to eulogise Arnold Bennett’s very fine introduction to the book. “Marie Claire” is, -as all ■ our readers know, the life story of Aladame Marguerite Andoux, its author, and it is without exception the most beautifully and simply written autobiography we have ever read; the more remarkable because of the alleged illiteracy of its author. One thing, however, has struck us very- forcibly in the book's introduction, and that is that just after the author had discovered that . she must write, and had begun to set down her youthful reminiscences in desultory fashion, “she became acquainted, through one of its members, and by one of those ■hazards of destiny which too rarely diversify the dull industrial life of a city, with a circle of young literary men, of whom .possibly 'the most important "was the regretted Charles Louis Phillipe, author of “Bubu de Monparnasse’- and other novels which have a genuine reputation among the chosen people who know the difference between literature and its counterfeit.” This circle of friends used to meet at Phillipe's flat. It included a number of talented writers, among whom I should mention MM. lelil (the author of “Cauet”), Francis Jourdain, Paul Fargue, Larbaud, Chanvin, Marcel Ray, and Regis Gignoux (the literary and dramatic critic). Margaret Andoux was not introduced as a literary prodigy. Nobody, indeed, knew that she wrote. She came on her merits as an individuality, and she took hex place beside several other women who, like herself, had no literary pretensions, “But I am told,” ■continues Mr. Bennett, “that the impression she made even in those early days was profound. So encouraged was she, that at last she ventured to read what she had penned so diffidently, and what she read was received with acclamation. ‘Her gift must be presented to the public instantly!’ And presented it was, and what the critics think about it is well known. But would such a thing have been possible in English literary circles of front rank, as a lowly seamstress being received on the merits of her own individuality. Emphatically, no! and much original genius is lost to the world thereby. The story of Madame Andoux's rise to literary fame, as related by Arnold Bennett, reads like, and is, pure romance. “Marie Claire” is so ideal a novel that every lover of real literature should buy, beg, borrow, or steal—and read it.