Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-09-23
NEW BOOKS
AT RANDOM
I, C. M.

Of Bookselling. MadRe Jenison. p.
| p. Dutton & Co.
They were talking eagerly together
as, upon meeting either by chance or
plan, two of kind or craft are bound to
do. Whatever the topic Of common in
terest, It was speedily clear that the
mood Of neither was of the buoyant
brand, Of the hopeful turn,
Booklovers both, sincerely and equally
concerned in the wide delivery Of good
books, lasting books, to the largest DOS
sible public. And the fine program was
without question going wrong. What
the trouble was, what to do about it.
such the point Of agitation and dis
cuSSion.
Now this incident, this meeting be-
tween John Macrae and Madge Jeni-
son, did not take place yesterday, nor
the day before even. Yet, in both fact
and spirit, 1t belongs equally with our
own tomorrow and the day after. This
Is the reason for bringing it forward
again for a new consideration, for q
Ipossibly fresh approach, and certainly
for . good measure Of pleasurable sug-
gestion.
Notwithstanding that authors, good
ones, were never more competently busy
than now, that publishers were never
keener and more reSourceful from both
the literary and commercial aspects of
their enterprise, never more practical
and persuasive in plans for getting
books and readers together-yet, the
truth stands that such connection does
not take place, not in any degree, that
Is, commensurate with the effort ex-
pended upon 1t.
Madge Jenison declares, In effect,
that the bulk of the trouble lies in the
bookShop. That, for any degree of In
spiration and ingenuity manifest there
the bookShop might be q hardware
store or a. grocery or any other mart
wherein commodities are In the nature
OF necessities, selling themselves so to
speak. The case is different with the
bookshop. It calls for another sort Of
handling. Books are not a necessity,
despite the hope that they may be-
come such. Therefore, first Of all. the
bookShopS must constitute an invita-
ton, something of a lure. Within, 1t
must be welcorne-bright, warm, SIM
pie, companionable. An orderly place
OF unforbidding friendliness. Chairs
that Mt, tables that beckon, windows
that catch the sunlight and pass it In,
an inspired shopkeeper, who knows Just
enough to meet need competently and
genially, who never knows too much.
Nothing Is more repelling than q book
person who knows it all. Or any other
sort OF know-it-all for that matter
So far, I've been but a sketchy inter-
prefer Of these two in their common
dilemma, that Of a public Indifferent,
broadly speaking. to the happiness that
lies in good books, in a love of reading.
NOW pass on to you Sunrise Turn"
the story Of bookshop by that name.
The story, as well, Of dream which In
the hands OF q resolute woman came
alive, an avenue of enjoyment for many.
o substantial success to its originator.
suggestion and inspiration to- the trade
itself. AS adventure this story Is q
prime one. AS enterprise 1t talks in the
current speech Of business. AS amusing
comedy, as critical incident, as plain
business problem clearly set out. as
steady growth and good outcome, here
is a notable record and here is also a
thoroughly interesting chapter In the
romance OF enterprise itself. One comes
away from the story with an ideal---one
that the big houses possible cannot
realize. But many little house can
turn itself over to the useful business
OF getting the good books out into the
open OF general interest, out into the
path OF the wayfarer along book roads
and retreats.
***
THE STREET OF THE ISLANDS.
Stark Young. Charles Scribner's
i Sons.
"Porque me parecio"-"For It seemed
to me, thinking on these things, that
every man is an island, and that, in the
midst OF these islands, runs the street
OF life" So the Spanish wise man gave
to Stark Young title for these tales.
gave to him also their illuminating unity
and the rich exoticism Of their colors
even though some of them be placed in
the prosafc setting Of right here and
right now. However, a poet does not
deal in prose under any circumstance.
And Stark Young is both poet and
| artist. See River House." See, also,
his picture books wherein trees, chiefly
trees, without q single word of human
speech, tell long adventures that time
and tide have brought them, battles of
wrestling tempestS, pastorals of sunset
and moon crescent. Well, here are the
| stories, long short stories and short
short stories, drawn from Spain, italy.
our own Southwest, from places where
life is both simple and opulent at the
same time. Gorgeous In the externals
Of color and atmosphere. Direct and
plain IN the reactions Of the human
heart to the impact upon 1t Of the sin
gle dominant instinct Of life.
AS the little foreword, "poruue me
parecio," implies, these are stories Of
the individual-of this man, this wom-
an, leading his own truly lone and iso-
late existence in an outer world of
amazing diversity, a densely populated
world wherein each is, nevertheless,
deeply separate from all the others II
the thought that ties these stories into
one could be seized deeply, what a flood
OF understanding would surround all
human behaviors. It is the profoundest
truth of human existence. It is uncon-
querable, tneradicable--an out of It
rises most of the tragedy Of the world.
SO here, in simple situations, this con-
trolling fact turns simplicity into COM
pleMty, into trouble, disaster and
tragedy, A picture less than a page
long spreads here to the widest of In
illusions. A short story Of love and It's
decisions so deep in their rootage be-
comes profound and searching world
story. Beautiful, all Of it, with the
beauty that an artist knows how to
evoke out of the human stuff, which,
on its top side, shows no beauty at all.
X \ \
THE WIND THAT TRAMPs THE
WORLD: Splashes OF Chinese Color.
Frank owen. The Lantern Press.
1.-THE Little City Of the Big Winds
lies on the very roof of the world,
among the bleak, barren storm blown
peaks OF the HimalayaS"-and it is
here that this weird and gorgeous story
Of Hi Ling and the lovely Dawn Girl"
unfolds as the ancient man tells 1t to
John Stepping, traveller, in love with
China. The Dawn Girl' was, to be
sure, flower that in time came to re-
spond, quite human-wise, to the devo-
ton of the owner of the great hidden
| garden OF rich and wondrous growtns.
Become fine and subtle through the
companionship of the flowers and trees,
the man could understand their ways
of speech and they could understand