The New York herald., 1921-04-10
BY PANAME.
OUIs CHADOURNE'S new

give him a place among our best
writer's of fiction. Henry Bidon, in
the Repue dc Parts asserts that
Chadourne reveals to us in the souls
Of children the prophetic signs of the
third romanticism which we were
waiting for" He calls the first and
second romantic periods those follow
ing the Napoleonic wars and the War
If 1870, saying that another lyric
reaction was inevitable after the
world war. But why talk of periods
hen youth is in question? Adde'S
cence has always been romantic!
But the romance of our day is over
whelmed by the simple love Of life.
If it had not been for the war no
doubt our young poets and imagi-
native prose writer's would have gone
on to old age giving us varied col
lex tions of verse and of stories. But
the five long years of repression
have had at least one effect upon all
of them in common, in spite of their
differences of temperament. They
write without any thought of schools
or formula. They carry to their read
ers, in their own way. their aspira-
| ton for beauty, their taste for the
symbol or for more direct expression.
Louis Chadourne, who has hardly
| IA
tefore the public in 1916 with twenty
| Tages Of verse entitled I'm Memory
of a Springtime Death The title
rage bore this line of Tennyson's:
1T was the time when lilies blow
We found there the influence of
Laforgue, of Arthur Kimbaud. But
Chadourne made evident the possess
a sombre grace all his own in such
lines as these:
And caressed by thousand cool
fingers of the grass
/ My friend sleeps among the creeping
i plants and moss.
| There IL a touch OF rose at the corners
1 of the mouth
And the apple blossoms whiten on the
dear face
| With an inexpressble tenderness.
His first prose volume, THE Mas
ter of the Ship" was published in
| 1919. 1t is a romance of adventure
and fantasy. in which the lmagina-
tive element predominates, one of
4 those books that show the influence
| of English nevelists. above afl Of
| Stevenson and Meredith.
| And now comes "Unquiet Youth
| revealing mature analytical powers,
transfused with the poetry of the
| first book. The new story contains
| an accurate account of the life In a
Jesuit college in one OF the larger
provincial cities. In that ecclesiasti-
cal atmosphere we trace the develop
ment. through two years. OF the ado
lescent Paul Demurs. Around him
are placed his professors and tutors
| the principal. his comrades-Jacques
| Lortal in chief-all those who con-
tribute. during these months of bios
| soming. physical emotional and men
/ tai. to his consciousness of himself
and OF life. All these characters are
drawn in the liveliest manner.
The fever, the melancholy. the
wearying aspirations of youth. are
felt throughout the narrative. But
a'ong with these expressions of mood
are given the external aspects Of
school, such as this, of the return
after vacation:
IAN evening in October an even
ing Of reopening: groups are formed
in the main court already drowned
in shadow: older boys resuming their
former habits. newcomers restless
and awkward some with eyes swol-
len from crying. others affecting a
boldness that deceived nobody.
81 was already repelled by the
odors of an opening-tar and fresh
paint. At the windows clouded glass
or grillwork. And the big doors that
opened on the court rolled back with
arches tremble and struck me to the
soul-my soul of a prisoner.
might rose out of the earth: she
rose even TO my prison. At the first
sound OF the bell she spread her net
over my life.
II was done with tho opening.
felt no more that anguished fright in
which found myself when ] left my
mothers arms. thrown into that
| tawlng pack OF unknown boys. Now
J was used To ii all-the apprentice
p ip had been hard-used to hypoc-
rsy. to violence. to tho hatreds OF
this child world. But was I'm de-
spair. Before me opened out a series
of gray and monotonous days; to
rise before Il was light. dress by the
lamp: a prayer mumbIed in the daze
% one still half asleep; study with
out fire. fingers chapped. in win
ter: walks. three by three, I'm the
mud, through the rain. with stupid
cr cruel comrades: the harsh regula-
tions. the life without tenderness,
without variety and without solitude.
Nv gorge rose. Tears-but I forced
! them bravely back like man"
What sadness. what despair. And
how far we are from some of the en-
lightened schools of America. flooded
with sunshine spacious and comfort
able, where a boy could not have that
4