New-York tribune., 1922-07-30

.
Fl. p, Dutton a Co.
HESE three books display a
mythologic affinity, belonging
us they do to that class OF
fction--for the existence Of
which publishers unconvincingly vouch
known as summer reading. The men
who supply our reading matter have,
apparently, theory to which they hold
with admirable tenacity. Briefly and
apart from any scientific documenta-
sion, it is that in summer the proximity
of the sun and the consequent heat
from its rays induce light-headedncss
in the book-buying public.
So, they argue, special kind Of book
is requisite for this trying season of
the year. 1t may be true. Personal
experience would, however, lead me to
the conclusion that Ethel M. Dell and
Plotinus preserve their respective
charms unimpaired throughout twelve
months of the solar cycle: that Berta
Ruck and Joseph Conrad are always
in season for their admirers, and that
in summer Pater's prose is even more
cooling than the prose Of the best
Saturday Evening Post" stylist.
Hence my use of the word "mytho-
logic" in connection with summer read
ing. But if there is such fiction
classification these books most certain
ly belong in it; they are ideally suited
for consumption in hammocks or on
piazzas, near the sea or among high
| hills (assuming, of course, that they
are ideally suited for consumption
cnywhere).
But the grouping Of the three does
not argue a common degree Of excel
lence, nor even an identity in kind that
can be particularly demonstrated. They
fall into one great category, that is all.
Within that probably mythical cate
CORY they manifest individual differ
ences. There is, for instance, The mat
ter of style. Mr. Gabriel writes we'll,
in the main; he is unsuccessful only
when he tries to write too we'll. Ac-
cording the author Of Jimmy" such
slight praise necessitates the proper
tionate statement that his companion
authors may scarcely be said to write
at all. At least there ie nothing in
their writing which suggests q con-
sideration Of the thing called style.
They have, indeed, told number Of
stories In comprehensible words, but
beyond that statement one cannot 20.
There are other differences. Of course:
Mr. Connell and MIR. Howard are ad-
mitted humorists; Mr.. Gabriel is whifn-
sical. But considering these books as
though they were the component parts
Of single pudding is unfair to one
Of them. Having fortuitously grouped
them for review, let us now separate
them.
s. TIMINY" is e book so light that it
u forbids the touch Of criticism. It
is delicate web that dissolves as we
seek to hold it for examination be-
tween thumb and forefnger. That it
Is extremely fragile does not mean that
it is extremely beautiful. Rather it is
It is the story Of Jimmy Rafferty,, au-
thor Of little Rhymes" and Benjamin
Venvenuto Reni. 1t is tale Of love and
search. Inevitably the man and the
maid love each other and their search
is FOR the lost sonnets Of Raphael;
those sonnets which, you will remem.
Der, Guido Reni guarded "iike his own
eyes apple" and you will remember,
too, that
Guido Rent dying. all Bologna
Cried. and the world cried. too. Ours. the
treasure"
Suddenly, as rare things will, It vanished"
Well, this youthful pair of lovers
feel that Of all things worth possession
in this world they long most for these
sonnets recorded in the postscript to
Brownings "Men and Women" There,
presumably. they would read the per-
feet story of perfect love. One won
ders cynically what modesty sent them
9uesting back through centuries for
the mere shadow Of reality that lay
between them. But, as was said be.
fore. Jimmy" is fragile stuff that will
not bear the weight Of questioning. It
calls for the same abandon on the read
, er's part as does fairy tale. Read in
the proper. mood it ie perfectly satis-
factory-of its own little kind It is ex.
cellent. Mr.. Gabriel writes we'll enough
to try his fortunes with another kind.
MR.. CoNNELL is very different
i'A case. / do not know whether he
has studied with one OF the popular
doctors Of the American short story.
whether he has burned much electricity
over some Manual of Story Writing"
or whether he has analyzed success
as 1t is to be found within the covers
OF our most generously paying maga-
zines. Whatever the explanation, he is
the master Of formula; or, to be
fa'rer, Of snug little group Of for
,nulss that will insure him an editorial
hearing any weekday before s o'clock.
And let no one belittle Mr.. Conneli's
gifts: they are solid, dependable, lucra-
tive. They happen, merely, to place
him at a safe distance from serious
criticism. But they are worth atten-
tion. There is something appalling in
she precision Of the machine-m made
story; we tremble at our very certain
ty that it can't go wrong. Once we
have learned the invariable sequence
Of its movements we are equipped for
eternal prophecy: we can even antici-
pate the exact moment at which we
shall not be surprised by the essential
surprising twist.
These tales by Mr.. Connell afford
the same satisfaction that could be de-
rived from a game Of solitaire that
invariably came out. The ingredients
are mixed with q trained hand. We
find suspense and denouement; but
neither gifts Of observation nor art
in presentation are revealed. The book
Is q typical 100 per cent American
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