The New York herald., 1922-04-09


needs TO know about is doing or
thinking at any given moment. She
inspires mysterious telephone calls
and notes pinned TO pillows in hotel
chambers. And other women do her
will, leading poor blundering Philip
on from danger to danger. He rs,
however, one of the unshaken kind.
Nothing causes him to lose his head
OF blench.
As for the love. parts, they are
pleasantly thick. Philip follows one
woman to the Jaws of death and
tells any number of lies for her be-
cause he thinks he loves, though it's
hard to be sure of that sort of thing,
especially, as is the case with Philip,
when you were bitterly disillusioned
in your teens and have since fore
sworn the company of women and
devoted yourself to money and it's
getting singleheartedly. And then,
all in twink, he falls in love with
woman number two, and continues
10 pursue the path of danger for her
sake. Both women are married, so
10 speak. One to an English gentle
man who has become a detective and
who is tracking her for her crimes
against humanity and especially his
own country, the other to a Russian
who has dedicated his own life to
the furthering of the cause of hu-
manity, and who spends his time try
ing to get killed. One wishes him
all luck in the endeavor, but he
seems foolishly inept, and gradually
one loses faith. His wife is a wife
in name only, since he feels that
any conduct of his in the least de-
gree approximating normality would
be utterly unfair to the world at
large. Affairs are further compile
Gated by the fact that Santa, the
first woman, loves this reluctant
husband of Annals, or so Anna says.
Santa keeps on asserting that it is
Philip she loves. and we never dis
cover which of the two is right. But
since Anna says that to be loved by
Santa is like witnessing the sigma
ture to ones death warrant" il may
be as well for Philip that the matter
is left in doubt.
Philip, it may be said, has come to
Europe in order to sell bread 10 the
starving nations in return for CON
cessions" which will make him die
tator. Ambition is his fatal rider.
When. however. under the guidance
of Santa, the murderess, he finally
reaches Vienna and sees people
starving he loses the dictator urge
and even the deeper instinct to make
good business deal, and ne proceeds
to give his bread away. Santa says,
in passionate alteration, "It was god
like of YOU" He will build a wall
of bread" which will ctcp the in
flowing hordes bent on getting food
at any price, even that of immola-
ton. And we are given to under
stand tlTat there will be no wars
where there is a wall of bread"
Any war could have been stopped by
that barricade if only the attacked
had been wise enough to use it. One
wonders how this fact came to be
overlooked when the Germans over
ran Belgium!
IL Mr.. Dawson means lis book to
be taken merely as a new Ouidesque
form of pastime. rigmarole of i'm
possible. adventures and what may
be termed highfaluting language,
well and good. But there are hints
ever and again that he wishes to be
taken seriously as writer who has
something to say to US worth listen
ing to. and even as an artist In this
book he is neither the che nor the
other. He has always been subject
to sentimentalism, but heretofore he
has shown tokens of desire to re-
fleet upon, if not to interpret, life. A
book like. "The Vanishing Point re-
moves him from serious considera-
ton as novelist. 1t removes him
all the more decidedly because of the
fact that he appears to think he has
done something worth doing. If the
story were frank appeal for popu-