Evening star., 1928-12-30

either. Better than such romantic1Sm,
the story constitutes one more tally be-
tween fact and fiction in part of the
world about which, just now, every
phase of it's reality and significance Is
of vital importance. Sudh novels as
this one, quite apart from its clear
genius of conception and its classic
simplicity of projection, contribute def
nitely to the broadening knowledge Of
the South American continent and to
it's truer understanding.
X y X r
GOODBYE WISCONSIN. BY Glenway
Wescott, author of "The Grand
mothers" etc. New York: Harper
& Brothers.
A HANDFUL of stories picked up out
"A of life pretty much as it goes on
anywhere-everywher In every COM
munity, great or small, the peoENe OF
this book may be found. People with
pasts to mend to certain wholsness
of feeling and appearance. Lovers IN
one or another of the innumerab BILE
variants of the immemorial pattern OF
courtShip, marriage and compromise.
Here is the wastrel Of the community,
lovable chap but positively no good On
earth-that is, no good according to any
sort of current bookkeeping. Here IS
the runaway, come home again. JUST
you see, the common stock of the pop
ulation that is lying around loose every
where. But, here in contrast to other
where, there Is someone to see these
samples Of humanity, someone to realize
that they are, all, some of life'S great
interpreters for they are just men and
women trying to make go of the
most inexplicable puzzle ever invented
i,1ct nf iT1G iAnNfitU
the great maze of human destiny. And
this writer, this boy, or SO he seems,
took them up one after another in
realizing spirit and set down the bare
facts about them as he saw these
facts. And because he did just this,
and nothing more, here each one Is,
not only clothed with authentic fact,
but charged as well with a thousand
human implications, momentouS and
revealing. And, because Wisconsin Is
his own home, or was, he surrounds
these familiar men and women with
the habit of the place where they we're
born, where he was born. So, instead of
a handful of stories, there is here a
group of people, carrying on in their
own home soil, just as they do carry
on day by day. And these facts turned
into print, into the right sort of print,
constitute art. And here you have it.
X X X X
MR.. HODGE AND MIR. HAZARD. BY
Elinor Wylie, author of THE Orphan
Angel" etc. New York: Alfred A.
Knopf.
A N elusive bit of fiction, delicate and
always ready to fly away, that
for both theme and setting. It Is the
STORY of poet who, like most poets,
famed with the cause of human liberty.
A sorry cause, this, in prosperous
world where no liberty at all could
be found anywhere; in a world where
high and low alike were in bond to this,
that, or the other; still are in bond to
this, that, or the other. But this is
not our story, it is the poets story.
Finally his spirit dropped, grew weary,
longed for solacement, longed for
tranquility and joy and laughter. The
story in hand is that of the Summer
given over by the poet to refreshment
for his soul. A beautiful Summer
and laughing waters and shade and
thoughts turned into words that sang
and rippled and soothed. But-Sum-
mer is only Summer. And this one
came to an end. Such, in a word, is
the story of man and a time, Of
place and situation, that belonged,
and belong to the f1eeting things of
genius, with tempests of protest against
the world as it is and will continue to
be- 1t is the subtle charm of this
little invention that will count with
the reader, an essence that Is no sooner
SenSed than it is gone, to come again
and again till the reader, like the poet,
Is left with only a faint memory of
that happy reviving Summer of pure
joy.
ALL ABOUT ME. BY John Drink
water. Pictured by H NJ Brock.
Boston: Houghton Mifin Co.
WHEN a man is at work you can't
W tell much about what sort of man
he really is. But when he is at play,
head over heels in play, then you can
find out all about him, If that Is an
important thing to do. A case in
point is John Drinkwater. When he
works he writes long and important
''lives" or makes plays that many folks
go to see. And that Is all right, but 1t Is
not John Drinkwater that you come
upon by way of these long pulls. But
in this book of playtime, a book of
poems, he tells right out that this is
IAN About Me-" It Is, too. Here is a
whole week, day by day, telling the
secretest things about little John
Drinkwater:
Monday:
my very best friend is Barbara Day
She's seven and I am six;
She calls me dear and tells the way
To do arithmetic"
A story that goes on In increasing
devotion for a whole week, seven days.
Almost everybody and everything are
in the book, and everything and every
body are pretty much all right-quite
in the Drinkwater strain. You should
read them all-all the poems. mean
for true acquaintance with the author.
Besides, the pictures by Mr.. Brock add
touches now and then that with words.
just stiff words. Mr.. John cannot put
across by himself. Be sure to read
"All About Me-" and be sure to look at
the pictures that go with this "All