New-York tribune., 1922-11-05

vote makes no difference to him now.
Mr. Webster is completely ambidex-
trous, He can make culture hum
with one hand, as it were, and iuggle
half dozen colored balls in the other.
Alternately he produces the lightest
of fiction and addresses himself to the
serious study of our times. 1t is barely
possible that he is never quite serious,
but is simply showing how easily q
ChicagoaE can be highbrow when he
chooses, If he took himself as earnestly
as H. G. Wells does Mr.. Wells, or
A. S. M. Hutchinson, so might the
world. As 1t is, his unstudiad air
disarms criticism. And perhaps, too, it
does him an injustice. Perhaps he
does his work injustice in return. But
this becomes too complicated to pursue
further. What / mean to say iss that
his facility sometimes betrays him. II
he had to work harder he would not
only get more credit, he would deserve
it. His latest novel, Joseph Greer
and His Daughter" may be adduced
as an exhibit.
It is one Of Mr.. Webster's more seri-
Gus efforts. But too often 1t slides off
into being just good story. There is
NO reason why it should not be both,
Of course: the pity is that it comes out
as not quite either. Too long has the
author kept his right hand from know
ing what his left hand is doing, after
the manner of an eurythmic dancer.
Now, when they ought to pull together
they don't. His hero, Joseph Greer, an
industrial engineer, is meant to be not
only an individual but type. His
creator says SO, in effect, offers Joseph
as symbol of that daring and ro-
mantle side of human nature which is
ever eager to try the hazard of new
fortunes, and thereby keeps US from
sinking entirely out of sight in our ac-
customed ruts. He is supposed to be
the dynamic force, the spark, the eccen-
trio which kicks the wheels into mo-
tion.
John Williamson, the financier, is
set forth aa both his complement and
his antithesis, the conservator, the gov
ernor, who at once thwarts Joe and
keeps his efforts from going all to
waste. Unfortunately, Joe wears too
much the likeness of mere adven-
turer, cheaply picturesque promoter,
who is even more an exploiter and less
a vitalizinR force than the financier.
And Williamson is never an individual;
he is only dummy. He does not exist
of himself at all, but simply as foil.
Yet all the way through, the theme,
the idea, gets in the way of the story
and makes the book ponderous rather
than weighty.
Let us essay Mr. Webster's own style.
joe Greer emerged suddenly, so far as
one can gather, from the South Amer
lean jungle, where he'd spent at least
five years posing as kind of demi
god to the naked savages who infest
the River of Doubt. He had an idea
for making sunbeams from cucumbers,
OF linen from waste hempstalks, and
he brought it to Williamson. (He'd
first got hold of some money through
war profteering.)
Williamson financed the scheme; and
Joe cannily put up a job to get control
OF the resultant company. Meantime
he'd met Williamsons wife, Violet, and
she fell in love with him. Lots of
women had done that; though for my
part cannot see him for his whiskers.
Joe lived up to his name; he saved the
lady from herself, much against her
will. Meantime he'd brought his daugh.
ter cut from Los Angeles, intending to
start her in the society stakes.
Beatrix was a natural born outlaw
like her parent; and not having met
him since infancy, knew no reason why
she should pay him any filial obedience.
She knew that father got drunk
sometimes and ran around with chorus
ladies; and didn't see why she shouldn t
imbibe if she pleased and play with
a chauffeur. At this Joe became en-
tirely Victorian, and cut her off with q
penny. Violet Williamson was still in
love with him, and having been thus
vIcariously virtuous over his daughter
he seemingly wearied of the role and
decided to run off with Violet. This
| distracted his mind from business.
john Williamson meanwhile had
trumped Joe's trick, and took his COM
pany away from him, and Violet then
got cold feet and left Joe fiat. The last
we hear of him Joe is having some one
invent better formula for roadmak-
ing than the late Mr.. MscAdam; for you
observe he didn't invent things himself
he merely promoted other peoples in
Ventlons. He was, after all, middle
man, and sometimes he found both
enos paying against him. For my part
! can't sympathize with him particu-
larly in any of his undertakings
whether in regard to his daughter
who was better man than he--or John
| Wlillamson, VINO was longer sighted, or
Violet, who at least was incapable of
| inquiring whether or not he was "real'
] hate all these abbreviations, but Mr.
Webster loves them They distract my
mind from the story, and enough dis
fractions occur in the natural course
| OF events when a book is 489 pages
lorg, and the events can be condensed
as you observe, to page. Try doing
/ that with BLEAK House. or Henry
| Esmond."
1t is a mannerism which grows upon
Mr.. Webster. He is said to dictate his
novels, and no doubt it sounds all right
but it doesn't read right. There is a
horrid little formula about "pictated-
but not read" which inevitably, comes
to mind. This novel can be read but
if it were half as long it could be read
twice as easily.
He has also an irritating habit OF
bringing in characters from previous
novels without introduction as if ex-
pecting them to come trailing clouds
of glory, which they don't. Instead OF
recognizing them instantly as old ac.
quaintances one is merely aware in a
half embarrassed way that one ought