Albuquerque morning journal., 1922-07-03
Book Corner About Writers and NelU Volumes
SHOP TALK

From a flood of publishers notes
on the desk we find that Fannie
Hurst, author of "The Vertical
City," is living in the home of Aus
ltrian peasants near salisbury, Aus
itria, and delivers milk to the homes
lof under-nourished children in her
lspare moments. Albert BigeloW
Paine writes that he drove over
1.-THE French Alps recently in the au-
tomobile which figures in his book
"The Car That Went Abroad Il
was in the snow six inches deep,
great towering cliffs above and u
boiling torrent below, and a mar
row road. l was damned near
scared to death, but it was stupen-
dous to look at" Mr.. Paine goes
from Grenoble to Valence and then
plans to. motor to Aries ito find
warmer weather"
After three months tour of the
country, Joseph Hergesheimer, who
will follow "Cytherea" with 'The
Bright Shawl" to be published next
fall. has just returned to the quiet
of his West Chester, Pa, home.
Dom Byrne, author of "Messer
Marco Polo,"s sailed for Europe re-
Gently with his wife, Dolly Byrne.
co-author with Gilda Varesi of En-
ter Madame"
They say that John Golden Of
fered to Bliss Carman the part of
Bill Jones in the No. company
playing "Lightnin'" and that the
poet carried the joke so far as to
learn the lines. We do not know
the answer to this one.
The only local Newfoundland
contribution to war literature is
1.-THE First Five Hundred" recent
ly published, a copy Of which has
been received in The Tribune Of
flee from the prime minister's Of
flee at st. Johns, N. +.
Witter Synner writes the Book
man" from Santa F'e as follows:
After three more weeks here, |
shall visit some of my verse pu-
pills. on the coast. Meanwhile ]
shall continue finding new adven-
lures in this most uncannily vivid
section of the u. S. One travels
across an apparently continuous
reach of desert-sagebrush pinons
into the earth opens q
great Gothic canyon, with the Rio
Grande hidden in 1t. Similarly one
traverses a grey stretch of life
mud houses, drowsy looking peo-
ple-suddenly one sees in an In
dian pueblo a dance, gravely, sub
timely beautiful hundred men in
a long perfection of rhythm, bodily |
and vocal, or in a Mexican village |
at night a small chanting process |
sion, lit only by a lantern or two /
and sequestered from onlookers, in |
which two men are lashing their !
own bent, CORY backs with cactus |
thongs, the constant cruel thwacks |
even after the lanterns !
have moved out of sight toward a |
cross in the hills.
And there are artists here ga
lore-more paint brushes than
trees. And in the midst of sights
worthy of master recorders, inter-
prefers, commentators, celebrants |
there is no end of paint for
paints sake.
There are poets also: Alice Cor
bin Henderson rapidly becoming a !
native; a while ago, Vachel Lind /,
saw off in the hills; two young !
sters, Maurice Lesemann and fvon |
Winters; two weeks ago, Carl sand
burg slouching around on a horse,
with his leather cap pulled down
flatter than the desert; and, per-
haps for the summer, If / can flnd
a mud house to contain and con-
tent me and Corona, and If con-
tinue feeling myself in a Chinese
among Chinese people,
your garrulous friend.