The sun., 1919-01-26

THE tragic difficulty of novels unan-
i nouneed by adventitious cireum.
stance or stereotyped names is to find
friends. They always exist, even in gen.
erous numbers for really fine writing, but
they are scattered, and there is nothing in
the exterior of book to reassure the
thoughtful and-of necessity -sceptical
reader. Hundreds of great" novels are
published every season, novels surprising
Conrad's or Hardy's, easily "better than
the Russians" at their own game; they are
purchased with the hope-the vain hope
that they will at least fulfil part Of
the advertised promise. But even this
they fail TO do, and fresh assault is made
on the same terms.
If, for example, Mr.. Galsworthy had
not departed from his invariable custom
and written a public communication Of
The Great Hunger (Moffat, Yard & Com
pany), probably should never have read
it. The quality Of the review and of
his personal preoccupatiOns, told me that
it was not the special form of creative
literature which most engages me-; such
turned out TO be fact, but there was so
much beauty, so much pure gold, III The
Great Hunger that TO follow Mr.. Gals
worthy's praise was not only pleasure
but an absolute duty.
| have spoken Of the friends Of a novel,
and it will be immediately seen that, with
the novels, they must vary very widely.
The friends of one are not the friends of
all the adherents of Tarzan would form
no warm attachment for Johan Bojers
book. 1t is common honesty here TO admit
that-in the accepted, yes, the vulgar,
sense-it hasn't Il happy ending. Natur-
ally the popular human conception of
happy end is the acquisition of fame and
fortune and what conventionally, is called
love. OF course it is not love, for there,
too, a material symbol is insisted on
either physical beauty, money or an amaz-
ing chastity. Love is different from this,
Just as The Great Hunger is different
from volumes catching up and rcechOing
the stupid, lying formulas of a gilded and
easy triumph.
Nothing, except the splendid passionate
style of The Great Hunger is easy: Peer
Holm, the illcgitimate son Of a captain
and man of fashion, fights all his life for
the successive objects of his ends, and
usually, at the point of success, they dis
solve into the slow dawning realization
that they were only cold mist. At the last
these wells, penetrated one by one in suf-
fering, are put aside and Peer rises TO
victory but it is solely a vie
tory within himself-the clamOrers Tor
visible and impressive circumstance, like
the dull villagers among whom Peer Holm
finally became a blacksmith, will find I'M
relieved cause for dissatisfaction.
Like all novels true 10 the deeper quail
ties Of Christ it will be cause of annoy
ance to world of fat comfort, where re-
ligon is conveniently held in an. automatic
and calendared observance. Here, discard
ing every deadening reinsurance, man
is relentlessly drawn across the loud PLAZA
of life, through poverty, hunger and
loneliness and loss, through triumph and
riches-if this were transposed TO the end
all the requirements of wide popularity
would be assured-sensual love, cham
payne, gay music and thronged parties.
However, he moves on into the darkness
of utter material disaster and the most in
sidious suffering that men can endure.