Evening star., 1923-01-02
NEW BOOKS
AT RANDOM
Christopher

@UrsEy' gSbOrAU.b
Not brand-new-the little house
whose chimney smoke here drives
straight up toward the blue or drifts
away, In easy seduction, upon some
vagrant and idling wave of air. A
year old at least. And all the better
for that. Authors. taken together,
are prolific OF books as the Chinese
are of babies. And IL some of this
progeny were not let alone TO die off
Of It's own inherent feebIeness-chi-
nese fashion--the book world would
suffer an overpopulation calculated to
make even the Middle kingdom ap-
pear as scant of inhabitants as Pata-
gonia or the Paumotus. A book that
survives a year stands . chance Of
being book. And when around
Christmas time 1t steps out-as does
Chimney Smoke" here-peart and
gay In holiday dress, waving a conf
dent Come on in" this is a. sure sign
OF Tobustious will to live. To be
about Christopher Morley, since this
young man, at the present, stands
sure footed on his own considerable
tower of public favor and affection.
4 ~
Inside the little house beneath the
chimney smoke one comes promptly
upon the full domestic equipment, all
going strong-a cat, a baby, pipe. a
wife. And, among these. husband and
father, companion and friend-the
poet and author as well-goes sing
ing his way through the enchantment
OF washing the dishes, through the
rapture of shaking down the furnace,
through absorbed musings on the
poetic content of animal crackers and
through the inspiration of one certain
unfoTgettable moment, when i felt
IKE Cod: There is hardly a piece of
furniture In the house that does not
give over q poem to this jocund
householder-the crib, the high chair,
the cedar chest, and 50 on. and SO on,
upstairs and down. ITO His Brown.
eyed Mistress clinches the whole
matter-signs and seals the authen-
ticfty OF this domestic comedy. For
the poem was writ to the brown-eyed
lady of the house in explanation of an
earlier sonnet In praise of blue eyes
In either case. and not half bad as
explanation-or apology. But beside
the immediate and absorbing home
business of Chimney Smoke" there
are little excursions into the outside
warming. soft-palmed touches upon
life, like, say, 'The Madonna of the
Curb"-a precious thing. And there
are others. One brings a poet across
a full century to where
The young men sit hooked in a cheap cafe,
Perfectly happy - talking about Keats.
Keats
Drunken of moonlight. dazed by draughts of
Diazy with stars his mortal fever ran;
His utterance a moon-enchanted cry.
Not free from folly-for he, too was man.
y y
However, despite such true and
beautiful externals as these. the real
spirit of Chimney Smoke" is here:
And of all mans feIicities
The very subtlest one. say l.
Is when. for the first time, he sees
His hearth-fre smoke against the sky,
And this little book alone would
establish Christopher Morley as q
poet and q man who chooses to exalt
the beauty and the strength and the
promise of the home as the best
thing in human relations. However,
he has written much else in this par
himself has a fresh zest for domes-
ITCHY and a frank joy in the natural
emotions out of which the home
rises. And within this intimate zone
he is pure play-boy.
X \
We like to find resemblances. you
look SO much like somebody know"
is commonplace of this instinct.
And Morley reminds US at one minute
or another. of Field or Stevenson or
Barrie. There is a single touch of
Rupert Brooke and one vague, quick
ly withdrawn gesture toward Coven-
try Patmore. These are rather sug-
gestions than genuine likenesses, for
Christopher Morley is, happily, very
much himself all the time.
y y
Poems. stories, essays, journalism
these, within the past ten years, have
brought Mr.. Morley into the intimate
liking of a host of readers That is
the general effect of the man-inti-
mate liking. He puts himself-the
whole of himself, one would say
into what he writes. Then he is
strong In personal appeal. And there
you are. the public opening up glad
ly to this young fellow, so eager for
life, 80 lustful of the truth about IL,
no matter what the color OF that
truth may be. "Parnassus on
Wheels" (1s17) is the first Morley
novel. This, with 1.-THE Haunted
Bookshop," brings a new, live man
into the world-Roger Mifflin, blood
brother to Morley himself. To be
sure. Mifflin is older and odder and
balder and has, apparently, more
nier turns of habit, but he is close
to Christopher Morley. rather closer
than brother. "Parnassus on
Wheels" besides proving to be a mat
ter of sheer delight, has also served
the useful purpose, we hear. Of
now q commonplace of many COM
mdnities. The most important of his
novels--so the critics say-and the
most beautiful one-so we all say
is where the Blue Begins" the story
of dogs search for God. And, why
not? Still. none but a genuine poet,
mixed with a pretty big sort of man,
could have conceived the theme. to
say nothing of carrying 1t forward
in such consistency of beauty, such
poignancy of appeal.
Odd titiss tickle the fancy of this
sy-boy-"Mince Pie,' plum Pud-
ding" "Pipefuls," "Shandygaff," for
But these are no mere gus
maneuvers--of course not, as
you know. Shandygaff" names book
of essays. And do you know what
shandygaff is? Mr. Webster-Shandy-
gaff, mixture of strong beer and
ginger beer (England). Now you have
the quality of those essays. More
than that, the whole Morley output is
shandygaff, too. THE Bowling
Green" daily editorial column Of q
New York paper, is quite like the
rest of him-or 1t would be were 1t in
the power of mortal man to be, every
day of his life, column clever and
witty and wise. Since, however, this
is not within the power of mortal
man. Tho Bowling Green" has, now