Evening star., 1926-11-30
NEW BOOKS
AT RANDOM
I. G.. NJ.
TRANSLATIONS AND TOMFOOL'
ERIES. Bernard Shaw. Bren-

ERlES. bernard CHa"'
tano's.
Among the "Tomfooleries" of this
Shaw volume Is the comic business
of Cashel Byron, boxer. and LYDIA
Carew, lady most rich, most
learned, most wise"-and, alack,
most lonely" too.
The point of the farcical to-do:
tossed off by the author in week OF
high spirits. lies with the lady In the
case not with the champion. The
smiling purpose here is to open
little window upon the true nature OF
woman, upon the grain of truth that
manly beauty Is a lure to every
woman. high and low, old and young.
In the play, Cashel Byron, perfect
product of physical training, embod-
les the truth before which every
feminine heart turns to water
Cashel Byron is not so much per-
son as he is universal fact Non
sense throughout, as it is intendc to
be. Yet Bernard Shaw's nonsense
projected in a thousand moods car
ries with 1t many disconcerting ex.
posure with its fierce bareback OF
discriminating denial.
This Is the play against which, as
a medium for his film appearance.
1CuC uUIlCy ICCClIly uCC1dA CN' AAO
decided, very seriously, that this was
''silly story" clearly a product of
Shaw's green and salad days. In 1t,
like the veriest apprentice, the author
had fumbled both the temperament
and character Of Byron, the boxer.
He estimated, heavyweightily, that
Shaw had turned out a "blundering
vulgarian" in place one assumes, ct
a master of the high art of fisticuffs.
THAT a girl reared in culture and re-
finement should fall in love with a
man whose only appeal is magnifi'
cent body is absurd" Oh, age of in
nocence. If Bernard Shaw were 10
accept the proposed offer of $4,000
for the movie rights to this play, he,
Gene Tunney, heavyweight champion.
would not take part in it unless it
were rewritten. No, stree! Isn't that
| lovely? From man to mandarin is but
a step, after all.
Another critic of Shaw comes to
mind-one who does not, like our
young man, shift the center of grav-
| ity from Shaw's play TO himself, to
| his own personal prospects and pre-
possessions.
Dixon Scott died in the war at
Gallipoli. A young man who knew
| how to think and who practiced this
| art sedulously. He was writer of
| great promise. with many things to
say about other writers-about Shaw
| and Barrie and Kipling and others.
| Always he held to the belief that a
writer was the only key to his own
| work. Therefore he studied the life
| and temperament and impulses and
| character Of each of the authors who
| appealed to him. 1t was in such belief
| that he studied Bernard Shaw, 1t
| is JOY to go along here with Dixon
Scott to meet the young Irishman
| coming over to London in his 20s.
| Just a pure romantic in those early
| days, soaked in Gounod and Men
| delssohn, Mozart and Michelangelo.
At heart a reformer, too. But there
! seemed to be no reforming virtue in
| the arts, and so. quite by accident,
| Shaw became another sort OF re-
deemer. He fell in with Sidney Webb
| and the rest of the Fabians. Here
was work to do, a whole program or
| socialism to open up to the ragtag
and.bobtail of London poor But be-
| fore the blessed vista could be spread
| out before his audience Shaw had
| to learn language that would carry
| straight across to them. Here was
| Tie AiCAN sAA~
| Bernard Shaw. Listen to Dixon
Scott's summary of that achievement
| in the use of words: Heightened OF
all adiectives, I1imble with nouns,
turning categories into keyboards, ne
| Is wont to ripple us run and, avoid
| ing voW'els in order to get the snap
of eonsonants, it rattles past us az
a rate that makes the best OF SWllt
seem slow, and pelts the brain with
/ stinging drops like driving nan. ~
is deliberately cold and colorless, but
! if produces kind of glow, an un'
us,lal warmth that almost melts the
icv argument. almost turns 1t into
| something rich and wild. For rapid
| itv. poignancy, unanimity, prompt
| ness an exquisite timing and ADJUST
uent of it's parts, there is no prose &c
| he compared with it in English. l.
| is with such equipment that Scott
masses from Shaw, preacher OF social
| ism. master of the art or persuasion
| and conviction, to Shaw the drama
| tist.
| And he. too, stands out aga1nS,
Bernard Shaw as a great playwright
| Not, like our own young man, be
| cause Shaw failed to make d hero
out of one Cashel Byron, boxer. Rath
| er by virtue of the fact that SHAW
was driven always by circumstances
and not by any deep inner urgency
From artist to political reformer. ther
to Journalist, then to dramatist, the
pressure each time from without
rather than from within. However
| here he Is a dramatist. But Shaw
lacks sympathy, so Dixon Scott says
counting up against his dramatic
powers. He lacks the imaginative
sympathy, or the power of watching
i'm absorption and delight "the doings
of every sort and size of people. Dis
dain is his working principle. He
studies human nature in the spirit
of an opponent. He possesses a pas
sion of hatred for all the 'accurseo
middle-class institutions that have
starved, thwarted. misled and cor
rupted us from our cradles" Shaw:
socialism has clearly made him un
sociable His confirmed habit of wip
ing somebody out which he formed
among the Fabians'' serves to oblit
Cerate his characters, rendering then
Intellectual for dramatic purposes
Again, the very speech, that Shaw
developed 30 effectively for one pur
pose is unsuited for the projection o.
stage characters. True, he acquired
the art of perfect dialogue in the give
and take of his lecturing days. Ano
that is a stage essential. His word.
do flt live lips. They leap. alertlv of
the tongue as slick and natural az
slang, fresh with the colors of actua
intercourse" But this was the dia
| logue Of polemics. the possession o
one certain clique or class. So this
facility, when Shaw wrote a play
became a handicap since 1t posted
an exclusive set of beings, a limited
| range of interests. monotopy o.
characters, an insufficiency of life ir
it's variety to meet the requirements
of the drama. So Dixon Scott. talk
ing still. All this means that "the
stage door of Shaw's theater had tc