New-York tribune., 1921-11-07
Books p.,., Hammond b.

A CORES spondent, II. Z. Harvey, writes
IN mild protest against the presence in
recent fiction of such bores as Miss
May Sinclair's Mr.. Waddington of
Wyck. 1t Is difficult, he thinks, to be
patient with duilards so egregious.
"The root Of their troubles" he writes,
"is an absence of sense of humor,
and, in consequence, they weary US.
When we should be thinking Of their
distress our thoughts turn to their
stupidity and in the end we regard
them with aversion rather than with
interest"
Mr.. Harvey's ennui is caused, per
haps, by his inexpert attitude toward
a bore in book. He regards the
tediousness Of a bore in novel as an
! intimate, personal inAiction, forgetting
that the dull fellow is not tirng him
but tho other characters in the story.
| To enjoy bore one should put ones
SELF sloof from him, unlocking and
cavesdropping from a distance. Few
IhillS dLS iiVAC nAAQSlAlk tiah plVPiH-
, ~vity to one Of these pests when he is
making of himself nuisance to ones
friends. You hear .ha boding sound
of his creaking footsteps as he ap
proaches, and you move to an adjoining
table, chuckling to yourself as you OBJ
serve thereafter the agony of those
you have left behind for him to talk to.
Mr.. Wemyss in "Vcra" is a frightful
bore to other members of his club.
They evade him as a pestilence; but
you who are permitted to scrutinize
him in all his aspects and in the sew
eral avenues of his character eXtraor-
dinary adventures. 1--WE regard them
with aversion, rather than with in
terest," complains the correspondent.
Is there, then, Mr.. Harvey, no pleasure
in avsrsioas? I recommend them to
you as the most salubrious of recrea-
items.
Philip Courthope in E. r. Benson's
"Lovers and Friends" is an amusing
! bore. Though he has little to do with
| Ltc POlatC CdlC LOl0 ny I4I. bCuSOH, uc
is, in the formula of the theater, the
comedy interest Of the book. He is
fifty or threabouts, and he is endowed
with an income by his American wife,
who from afar has almost as much fun
with him as you have. He is the beau
of Merriby, an English watering place;
the president of tho local Lovers Of
Italy Club, secretary of the Opera in
Our Own Language Coterie, and treas
urer Of the Friends Of the Suburban
Landscape. Upon the efervescent life
Of Merrby he exercises an undisputed
if somewhat rincing authority. He is
enAmored Of the French tongue, and his
devastating conversational vacuities
are emphasized by convertional French
words. He says tres instead OF very"
and bon jour and en- tansilie are ever on
his lips. The name of his house is Chez
Moi, and the parties he gave therein are
called soirees d'ennui In a way he re-
minds you of Chicago lady similarly
addicted. Describing to friend the de-
tails of a social contretemps in that
neighborhood, she said to him: "Do you
understand French?' He replied that
he did. "Well. them" she proceeded, "it
was simply terrible"
. y
Mr.. Courthope's shirt, his views on
Russia, his tennis, his golf are suf-
ficient to turn life for him if sort
Of innocent, everlasting and cntranc-
ing orgy. His liver, his caraches, his
mashie shots, his balance at the bank.
are. to him, eosnie. A. ons Of his