The New York herald. [volume] (New York, N.Y.) 1920-1924, 1922-10-15
The World of
Foreign Books
Continued from Preceding Page.

writer; painter a theorist of art &C.
who foregather in the cheap restaurant of
the indulgent and admin ng Prosper. This
volume, though avoiding the romanticism
CT Murger's Scenes de la Vie de Boheme, !"
contains a similar (and perhaps truer)
picture of the suffering and joys of youth
full idealism in artistic Paris. Any one who
at the age Of 21 has lived sometime in GER
tain corners of Ia Vile LUmiere, discussing
and planning all day long and late into
the night with equally youthful associates,
will find here passages which he will read
with much pleasant sadness. One. in par
ticular, will no doubt appeal to him, that
of the end of the dinner given on New
Years Eve by Prosper to his patrons.
After a good meal an old newspaper vendor
is brought in from the streets. He. like
that Bibila-Puree whom some of us have
seen more than a score of years ago. had
known better days. Talking with Coque-
let and his associates he forgets his age
and his disillusions in describing Mont
martre as it used to be. He recalled the
time, now long since gone, when gigantic
thugs with naked bodies fought great bat
ties with their knives, and as he told it
the scene assumed strange proportions. He
spoke of the old Moulin de la GAZETTE, Of
the Moulin Rouge of former days, explain
ing the poor lighting, the black streets, the
dances, the circus people, famous boxers,
and girls and artists in the streets who
used at times to go into upper Montmartre
to fight the DULLES wearing their ear-tabbed
caps and their rope shoes. Mont
martel All! my dear youngsters! They
have now introduced central heating sys-
TENS and swell hotels. 1t seems incredible.
/ used to be an artist like yourselves, but
/ have gone down. Yes. it's tough-and
not a sou to my name. That's why they
used to call me Drunken Sot. The name
stayed with me. Ask the people in the
nighborhood But 1 have known important
people. You understand? And it makes
me laugh to-day to know that all that has
disappeared and nothing is left but an old
fellow like me- He took his head in his
hands, and like the others. sank down upon
the table amid the crumpled and discarded
napkins, the empty glasses. cigarette ashes.
crumbs He felt himself at home, did
the old fellow, among his artists, at least he
said so, and Coquelet looked at him with
serious eyes. When dawn appeared
pale and murky, the newspaper vendor was
sleeping upon a chair. The company drank
a little Benedictine or Calvados to keep
awake The cigarettes had gone out. A
deem languor fell upon them all, and the
Gas Jet of the little hall wavered and
Missed Coquelet still held Irene's hand in
his. kissing il from time to time with
humility The words he had heard upset
him. He now knew that a poet had been
dubbed Drunken Sot in Montmartre and
he did not feel indignant; for he remem-
bered that Monsieur Crabe had said 70 him
enc day that man must have been alone
in the winter upon a high road, ana
stripped of all earthly possessions TO find
that manner of expression which shall go
20 the hearts Of men,"
The book which won for CARGO the
Academy's priz du roman brings US back,
once more, to the style of 'TEquipe.
'L'Homme traque" is, however, to my way
of thinking. an inferior product. AS in
"rEquipe," the main character is bounded
by deed of violence which he has COM
mitted Lampieur is a baker who works at
night in a basement. Attracted by his
light, the women of the streets have the
habit of dropping pennies to him through
a grating and dangling bits of string to
which he attaches rolls. One night for rea-
sons which do not understand this baker
leaves his shop. kills rich old woman and
tal-ac her money He knows that no one