The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1916-1920, 1919-05-25
Presumably About Bran
gWyn
By GEORGE GORDON.

Mating superstition Of the ages which,
delighting in symbols, has transferred to
words part of the essential spirit mani
fest in matter. So when a man signing
himself William Shaw Sparrow takes to
publishing a second huge volume on the
most vigorous, and one of the most YER
satile, of modern painter-etchers you
need prepare for no such song as the lark
uses to herald dawn or the thrush trills
from the hedgerow-yOu should make
ready for a chirping that will, in
all probability, grow tiresome long ere
the twilight comes in shadow to make an
end Of the days adventure.
Not but what sparrows have their value,
securing the world for unconsidcred
triles, but that they pile up hoard of
inconsequence, the more than half of
which must be discarded if the good is
not to be lost in n mass of rubbish.
So, true to his signature, our critic
turns aside to bubble concerning Henry
Janes's style and in especial his use Of
the word "saturation," spends page after
page on a review of present-day housing
conditions in London, is everlastingly put
ting forward his trite conclusions Con-
corning the art of William Shakespeare,
the enemies Of Whistler, the neglect Of
Millet, and seems O5sessed with the sins
of what he, time and again, terms "the
noisepaper press"
True, he catalogues Brangwyn's prints
with a care that attests genuine affection
and sympathy, but his very plausibiity
grows tiresome-he says SO much the
usual expected thing, endlessly, in a mo-
notonous assurance of conviction. And
he thinks to disarm criticism-how naive,
for all his thirty years of writing, he
remains-by pointing out through twenty
Introductory pages that it is better to
praise than to blame, more difficult and
therefore more TO be desired, proof of
great and generous spirit, whereas the
carping abuse of everyday is n sign OF
mediocrity He forgets that the mediocre
have disguised the humanity of Shakes
peare in the attributes of God, whereas
Voltaire, Garrick, Mr.. Shaw, DR.. Johnson,
not so lavish of superlatives, have with
many well-directed blow sent the blood
coursing again through his Immortality
mortal veins-that it was Burns, and not
Clayton Hamilton. who found it I'm
possible to read the plays. And could he
see Mr.. Walter Hampden Historically
mouihing and gnawing his way through
"Hamlet' to a chorus of half educated ap-
proval he would not be so ANXIOUS TO
exalt those who give praise, praise, praise,
to every well-timed effort-to the latest
of Zane Greys novels, the music of Puc-
chi, the easy portraits of Sir William
OrpCn.
Yet the many illustrations-from draw
ings, etchings, paintings by Mr.. Brang-
wyn-from war posters and boOkplates-
20 far to make this a truly beautiful
volume. The artist is chiefly concerned
with man and the more enduring o. his
works-with bridges and their builders.
cathedrals and the crowds that gather
there to pray, shipbuilding, and steve
dores toiling along the wharves, soldiers
preparing for battle, strong women COM
forting the wounded. There is a sweep
to his line, strength and suppleness that
keeps tune with the subject matter-deep
shadow and strong light that, seen out
of doors, has none of the affected insin-
cerity Of studio make-believe. Though
no connoisseur, have long thought Mr..
Brangwyn one Of the ablest, if not the
ablest, Of living etchers as he is I'M
doubtedly one of the most sensible of
decorative painters; and l would unre-
servedly recommend this book to you were
it not for the insipidity of Mr.. Sparrow's
text.
,n,~rc AVN Dp.wTNCC nv FRANK