Evening star., 1934-01-10
NEW BOOKS
AT RANDOM
Margaret Cermond.

A few months ago there appeared In
the center Of page Of one of the first
class popular magazines a box an
nouncement by the editors stating that
the accompanying contribution was the
best short story that they had ever
read, and that they were so thrilled
by 1t that they had Immediately wired
the author and contracted for a num-
ber of others. After several readings and
the devotion of some serious study to
the story which had so greatly pleased
the editors the conviction persisted that
these highly intellectual dispensers OF
current fiction were enjoying a little
joke.
On the score of mechanical work
manship, the author violated every one
OF the accepted rules governing the
construction of short story. As for
the story itself, it opened with q cli-
max and dwindled off into inexcusable
lnanlty. The only conceivable basis
upon which it was accepted and pub
lished was that 1t represented a style
in the grand procession of modernism
wedding Song" is another type indi-
catiVe OF nothing save the trend OF
the age.
The lack of any sense of order in
story produces the same effect as
the substitution Of clashing discords
Tor harmony and beauty in music
Composers OF the squawking, disrupt.
ing, nerve-racking noises which parade
under the name Of ultra-modern music
ha fxylr
and form OF their creations. From the
beginning OF mans consciousness oi
sound and since the fashioning of the
flrst instrument that produced a tone
music has been one of the primary
means of interpreting the wonders and
the beauties OF nature and the Joys
and sorrows Of the human soul. The
great masters of this art translated
into combinations of melodious tones
and harmonies the world in which
they lived and the spiritual and mental
emotions which they experienced. The
modern composer, working upon the
same principle, can justly claim an au-
thentlc background for the hideous
concentration of discords which repre-
sent the merry ry-go-round of metropoli-
tan existence and the turmoil which
fills the souls Of human beings in this
age.
But there are no such extenuatine
circumstances for some STYLES of moderr
literature. A man or a woman gifteo
with the talent and the inspiration TO,
writing novel should certainly possess
the necessary ability 10 combine tht
two and produce a readable and en-
joyable story, and one that will agree.
ably be remembered. Thousands OF
people may have read the magazine
story mentioned above, but it is doubtful
II ten OF them gave it a thought after
the last word. Wedding Song will be
read and as promptly forgotten II
could have been a novel that would
live long time
The story concerns two indolent
young Americans, a brother and a sister
living a life of luxury and pleasure ir
Italy, playing away the days and dane.
ing away the nights with other idle
and worldly Americans and worn-ou,
Italian aristocrats. Narcissa is married
TO an Italian nobleman whose amorous
attentions TO other ladies are toe
numerous to keep track of, and Kit
Abbott. her brother. is wasting what
might have been useful and construc-
tive life working out schemes to reduce
his father to financial and social ruin.
father Is justifiable, and the plots and
lntrlgues which he promotes in a thirst
Tor vengeance are probably clever. The
people are as interesting as any grour
OF idlers TO be found in the playgrounos
OF the world, and the general atmos-
phere and setting is conducive to
the making Of good novel. But with
all OF this workable material the author
mas CHOSEN TO produce q series OF
lumbIed, meaningless conversations, and
large doses Of hodge-podge, disconnected
mental deductions. which but vaguely
mint at situations never revealed Wha,
there Is OF story must be picked from
between the lines.
AS whole, Wedding Song" gives the
impression Of being something like q
cublst artists conception of a choppy sea,
Yet the author has both ability and tai
ent. He has had considerable experience
as writer, with one very unusual and
compelling novel to his credit, and he
has travelled widely. He is, however
pot yet thirty years old, and it is to be
sincerely hoped that he will develop
the finer art Of STRAIGHTFORWARD story
telling in his next novel.
4 " n
The great mass of holiday mail which
piles up on office desks and living room
tables and accumulates dust until the
recipient finds the time to read the
greetings and messages of remembrance
from those in distant places sometimes
contains a treasure or two. Original
individual greetings are rare, and sell
dom do they hold any merit save the
thought that prompted them, but oc-
casionally something of a different ma
ture is to be found within the folder
Of a small pamphlet.
Perhaps the author of the score OF
delightful poems in little eight-page
binder received few days ago did not
intend the thoughts contained therein
means Of expressing his kindly wishes
for the new year. There Is, In fact,
not a single verse to indicate such a
purpose. But its arrival In the first
mail Of the year makes 1t a particu-
larly pleasing personal keepsake.
Lewis E. Sisson, the author of this
group Of poems, is lawyer Of Sound
Beach, Conn, and he has given this
booklet Of first poems the title of ION
the Five Fifteen" Every rider Of a
five-fifteen knows the sodden soul de-
picted in these lines:
A stuffy suburban smoker
Runs abreast of a western limited
A diner, bright with little pink lamps
and napery
AS white as the snowy tams
On a trio of colored chefs
Whose grinning faces I'LL a narrow gal
ley vent
Slowly they cross the bridge, neck and
neck.
Then, Just at the yards
The limited leans leftwards
And curves its departing way
Into the sunset,
Leaving a heavy heart In
A stuffy suburban smoker.
And here Is another which reveals
the keen appreciation of the author of
the contrasts which breed in the human
breast the impulse to show contempt:
A freckled urchin, In passing excursion
train
Unloads his mouth OF big crimson
l0lly-pop,
And ctirkc of,t hic c,,oo WI fnnor,a