Evening star., 1925-04-12

low" etc New York: George H.
Doran Company.
Y NDER the oversharpened. crit
ical faculty that nowadays is
being bent upon the novel,
~ turning and twisting and
squirming for new angles Of
appraisal, new formulae of construction
new abstrusities of designation, it is
a joy to have old DR. Johnson breeze
in with the bluf dictum that "the
purpose of any book is to be read :
for that, at bottom, is the actual
guidance under which the novelist is
trying to make his way. And 1t is
the public, not the academician, who
delivers the verdict for or against.
If this be favorable, registered in the
book of sales, the novelist is content
This, the rule. To be sure, there is
with a few readers, without doubt, a
joy-chiefy the joy of self -pride--in be-
ing able to feel and judge the fine, con-
structive quality of a novel; salts
faction in sensing its coherent unity,
bent steadily and exclusively upon
the fulfillment of its chosen purpose
in sensing as well the soundness OF
its plot; in feeling the richness and
sequence of fits incidents, each perth
nent and revealing. all together
climbing consistently toward the sum
in unmistakable Justification and IL
Elimination of it's originating pur-
pose; in recognizing the characters
that embody these incidents, and this
whole as of the actual stun of life
itself Here, in a word or two. is the
academician's novel--a thing that has
no counterpart whatever in the big
and laundering and shambling bust
ness of life in the open; neat and
tidy construction, however, vastly
dear to the schoolnan and teacher
who feeds on critical guides a 3 stead
lily and uninspiringly as a COW feeds
upon her endless cud. Just an exclu-
sive few among scholars and readers
Like this sort of thing. But there is
nothing for the others TO worry
about. since not in month of Sun
days does any novel reflect this per-
feet scheme. Nevertheless, there are
thousands of outcoming novels of
fair build and not inconsequent n tial
development. That's what the public
says, at any rate. But the public
doesn't know. Oh, yes it does. The
public needs teaching. That's just
what it's getting through the increas-
ing excellence of today's writings.
x x
Just here Those Barren Leaves"
novel. More than likely, however,
neither professional scholar nor lay
reader would agree at this point with
the hopeful publisher. The book has
little of form and not more Of Sc
quence. Therefore, the wise man
wouldn't have IL, despite certain sur
face manifestations that must appeal
to him nightly. The story|et's
call it story-appears not to have
not to be going anywhere. Naturally,
il cannot arrive. II doesn't. II sim
ply shuts up it's covers after G, GER
tain time spent in the open. The
average reader rejects this untidy and
inconclusive performance. And as for
that superficial appeal to the man of
sophistication, that merely offends
the common reader. He is frightened
off by Aldous Huxley's subtieties of
detection, by his seemingly expert in
side knowledge of the fraiities of the
human. by the wry smile Of expec-
fancy with which he meets any one
of these and wayls.ys it for furthe
and more complete exposure. Of
Tended through this fear and a dis
tinct disappointment, the general
reader accuses the man OF vanity
and self esteem past the bounds of
propriety; of q certain dogmatic atti-
lection for words of pretentious sound
and cryptic meanings, and, above all,
of a disposition that finds delight in
hunting down the sillinesses of which
we are all SO largely compound ed.
He'll not play the game with them
the good game of covering one an
other up in a plain and friendly de-
cency. They don't like it; they don't
like him. He's too sharp and cutting
and superior.
However, on the trail. hunting
down folks, especially women, Aldous
Huxley is the. prize boy-archer.
Those Barren Leaves" is a monu-
ment to his skill in this direction.
True?-undoubtedE Clever?-mon-
strous clever.
BILL THE CONaUERoH. BY P. G.
Wodehouse, author of THE Little
Warrior etc. New York: George
H. Doran Company.
CPRINGTIME, and. in support Of the
- all-engrossing business of the season,
a young man endowed by a generous
author with enough of conqueror stun
to supply an entire regiment of
youthful males for the remaining and
negligible three quarters of the year.
4
ture Bill is sent to England upon a
commercial errand for which he has
neither gift, nor knowledge, nor de-
sire. Upon landing, Bill promptly
meets a crisis. 1t is young woman.
At the moment out of her depth she
is engaged apparently in the difficult
feat of trying to reach land by way
of swallowing the lake wherein she
is struggling. This is Bills chance.
l. H. r..
ings of this youth in the way of dull
money dealings on land, he is GER
tainly a whale of q fellow when he
takes to the water. Bill saves the
somewhat water-logged lady. From
that moment he is off on a triumphant
and hilarious round of achievement
that embraces about every phase of
English life, from high finance to in
ternational understanding A com
edy of laughter-the Wodehouse kind
that, by way of sudden shifts and
fresh combinations, presents an as
tonishing and very lovable Bill as the
favorite godchild of a capricious and
spendthrfft fortune.
LIFE AND ERICA. BY Gilbert Fran
kau, author of THE Love Story
of Aliette Brunton," etc. New
York: The Century Company.
A HOST of young and generally ca
n pable writers of the male persua-
sion would, it is conceivable, have been
sadly put to it for theme had not the
modern girl broken loose from her
moorings and set sail in her lone
little craft upon that uncharted sea
whose name is living her own life"
An epochal exodus from the parental
roof tree that must have been, If one
may judge from the prodigious activ-
ity which the movement set UP in the
writing hand of each one belonging
to this army of presumably husky,