New-York tribune., 1922-08-02
Books

John Peale Bishop, the managing
editor Of "Vanity Fair" is caught this
month in an act Of disloyalty to his
journal, that most modish Of the or
gans of the genteel and the recherche.
Instead Of permitting vanity Fair" to
publish Resurrection" his penetrat-
ing little autopsy of decompositi and
the obscenities of dsinterment, Mr..
Bishop sells it to another editor, Mr..
Farrar, who exhilarates the pages of
the August "Bookmen" with its pun
gent 'odors Of decay. 1t may be that
Mr.. Bishop, fine critic as well as
shrewd executive, regarded his bleak
essay in necropsy as hostile to the
bon ton tastes Of his degag6 subscrib-
ers to "Vanity Fair; and thought that
its appearance in "Vanity Fair" might
be as unsuitable as last years shroud
in smart haberdashery. But the
fact remains that Resurrection" is,
in my opinion, the best thing in the
August "Bookman," if Arnold Benefits
be excepted. Also that it excels, in it's
way, many, many articles that have
been printed by order of Mr.. Bishop in
vanity Fair"
Resurrection" is detailed picture
Of the exhuming of an American sol
dier from his shallow grave In the
Argonne, and its reaction on the deli
cate and sensitive young lieutenant
commanding the operation. A squad
Of negro laborers has rended the un-
known's tomb with spades and mattocks,
and crouches silent. constrained and
sullen, while the unpretty work is fin
ished by white men. I shall probably
omit from this report the appended
description Of what followed aad refer
you, as Mr.. Bishop does, to Mr.. Far
rar's more intrepid "Bookman," On
second thoughts it is deemed better to
seek the sly sanctuary Of the asterisks,
combining prudence with bravado, and
merely to intimate by eloquent elisions
Mr.. Bishops exposure Of the dubious
glories of warriors iron sleep when
disturbed by the honest sentimentality
Of grateful government:
The officer tugged at the wire,
which held under its lower loops an
amorphous mass, caught beneath the arm
pits. Archer first q knitted sweater.
still intact but soppy from the putrefac-
tion beneath 1t. A clayey brown rag was
over the face. The taut wire pulled again,
sharply; something broke the throat
and a. greenish blue substance T.. .
crumbled over the sweater.
What the helll Give me that pick"
An arm was embodied In the earth at
one side. The pick tore into the soft flesh
and the aperture showed a blasphemous
pink; something was left behind in the
hard clay. The cadaver began to lift it
self from the grave. The jointIess head
fell back; F.. the uneven arms spread
out with each jerk Of the wire. launching
their sleeves. In the space
where the thighs divide a glinting puddle
of muck had seeped through the breeches
cloth. The legs trailed woodeny.
After reading this you will possibly,
las the troubled lieutenant did, take an
other drink and fling yourself on your
cot, where your thoughts will "wheel
confusedly as bubbles in an uneven
stream" You almost forgetin this ruth.
less inventory of the disadvantage of
burial that other men have died and
that worms have eaten them, SO
monopolistic. is Mr.. Bishops accumula-
tion of horrors. Though the time OF
the episode seems anachronistic, being
Mr. Bishop says it is, after the peace
negotiations have been takeI from
Paris to Versailles, date apparently
too late, there are numerous indications
that the author was present. Among
these are vivid recollections of the
company clerk, whose father, an under
sakar in Tipsville, Ind, shut him in .