New-York tribune., 1919-08-02
Socialism in England
"Anymoon" a Satire
On Nations Future

pages. Published by John Lane Com
pany, New York.
We recommend "Anymoon" to all the
cheerful gentry who arc convinced
that the world is going simultaneously
to Socialism and the dogs. 1t will give
them a rich and lugubrious entertain
ment, being written after the Great
Upheaval' in England, when the worst
is happening with particularly and
promptitude refreshing to read of in
this slack and muddling era. Joseph
Anymoon, who has brought about
the dissolution Of the British houses
of Parliament and got himself
elected first President of the Brit
ish Commonwealth, is an incorri-
gible optimist, but presently finds him
self in peck of trouble. In the first
place, his clothes don't fit, and being
made by one of the Guilds of National
Tailors (Grade Number One) nothing
can be done about it, as of course
utterly reactionary Then Mrs. Rhyle,
one of his councillors and the leader
of the Woman Party, is quite impos-
sible from Anymoon's point of view,
being a rampant feminist and advocate
of polygamy, in consequence of Eng
lands two million superhuous women.
Cohen, the leader of the Bolshevist
element, steadily and stealthily organ
ICES the workers to rebel against the
bureaucratic Socialism which Anymoon
stands for. To crown it all, Anymoon s
wife, a plump and placid person, pres
ents him with twins. This is a polit-
ical catastrophe, as Mrs. Rhylc has
had law passed making it crime for
any man over fifty to have offspring
and Anymoon has passed the fifty
mark. So Anymoon goes to sleep and
wakes up in the Beehive State.
section of the book at length, but can
only shortly intimate that Anymoon
finds himself in an England where
most of the inhabitants are dressed
somewhat like Cinnamon, in loose
flowing blouses and baggy trousers of
indigo serge, with black caps and
blond pigtails. They have thin, tone
less voices and dull, fshlike eyes
and they work all the time, chiefly on
the enormous aeroplanes which have
taken the place of all other convey
ances. Anymoon supposes the Great
ures to be men, but discovers that
they are women, the workers" There
are other women, the "breeders,' who
recllne perpetually on couchees in long
rooms like hospital wards, with charms
"of the character that is euphemisti-
cally termed opulent," but no intclli-
gence. ut was obvious that they were
happy, for although they did not talk
with ono another they laughed inn
moderately and for no apparent reason
and some of them crooncd curious
little tunes. Beside each couch stood
Ii small table with large tray OF
sweetmeats and TASKS Of pink and
yellow syrups. The plump ladies on
the beds kept on popping goodies into
their mouths necessarily, slipping from
large crystal beakers now and then
chuckling to themselves all the while
They resembled contcnted children
waiting for nurse to come and dress
them
The volume ends in wild snarl OF
Bolshevism, suppressed at last by the
remnants of the British army and
navy. A pair Of lovers, much neglected
by the author, fit phantomlike or
and off \ few casual pages. 1t is only
fair to the timorous to explain that
while England is writhng in the throes
the rest of the world. and especially
these United States. are serenely and
triumphantly capitaliStic l.. s. H.