Evening star., 1935-12-22
BY Mary.Carter Roberts.

York: Willett Clark & Co. =.
@-WO young men and Ford,
adventure bound. The formula
is not quite as new as it was
L before it got so old. Indeed it
would sometimes seem that the de-
scending mantles of Robert Louis
Stevenson and his Modestine have
covered as many hopeful youths as
have those of the dead o. Henry and
the living Hemingway, which, GER
tainly, is a good many. But of the
present pair go, to strange desert and
mountain, with spirits attuned to eX-
quisite keeness for any and all shades
of local color-and, of course, to write
a book about it afterward. They are
so bubbling, so receptive, SO whimsical
these young men. Their Ford is so
cranky and obstreperous; they call
her Daisy. 1t all combines to make
such a delightful composition. What
is reviewer to do? Why, write a good
notice, naturally.
So one may begin by saying that
Jose Mojica, famous Mexican opera
singer, says in his foreword that Mr..
Bowman and Mr.. Dickinson have
written the best book on his country
that he has yet read. And. he adds, he
has read lot of them. So have re-
viewers-but Mr.. Mojica ought to
know. If he says that Mexican Odys-
sey" is the best picture yet to be put
out of Mexican life as seen through
foreign eyes, it will not be this re-
viewer who will disagree with him.
So that point is hereby settled.
One may next state that the pub
fishers of Mr.. Bowman's and Mr..
Dickinson'S work declare that the
young men never dreamed of doing a
book when they set out. One was a
painter, the other writer, and as
they went along they just casually
made notes and sketches. And when
they got back to Chicago they looked
these things over and found-could
you believe it?-that they had spon-
taneously produced a book, without
having the faintest suspicion that
such thing was in progress. That is
how Mexican Odyssey" came to be
NLAGIC44 anu, Va AOQ1 ~ ID NSIy III
teresting.
Well, it is a good travel book. 1t
has lots of humor and episodes. The
pictures are nice, in the blunt style
which seems to be necessary in works
on Mexico, so that you could give it
for a Christmas present, or even be
glad to get it yourself, for that matter.
Won cnit1l Il
fact, you probably will even like it.
And, oh-one almost forgot. In its
back pages it has an appendix of
tourist information. Now do 60 out
and buy copy.
THE FABULOUS WILSON MINER.
BY Edward Dean Sullivan. New
York: The Henkle Co.
p AFAEL SABATINI, in the course
of his prolific career as a romance
writer, composed one line which de-
serves to be remembered. It was the
first in a book which by now must
be almost "Scaramouche. :"
Wrote Mr.. Sabatini there, at the top
Of his opening chapter, as one who is
about to plunge and filings his gaunt-
let in the face of fate: He was born
with gift of laughter and a sense
that the world was mad"
What else he wrote, one cannot say.
Only one has never been able quite
to lose the memory of the pungent
sense and rhythm Of that opening
sentence, "* born with a gift of
laughter and sense that the world
was mad"
And now, in most unlikely literary
company-in, in fact, a book about
a man who has been described as a
Broadway playboy''-one comes on a
character whose life would seem to
have been an eXemplif1cation of all
that Sabatini's line comprised. That
character is the hero of Edward Dean
Sullivan'S new book, "The Fabulous
Wilson Miner"
Fabulous indeed! One does not
know, on finishing the impossibly
fascinating tale, whether one owes a
debt to the late Miner for having
lived with such gorgeous and accom-
plished scorn, or whether the price of
ones JOY in his biography is due a
hero-worshiping author. Be that as
1t may, on the merits of Mr.. Sullivan's
book alone, this Miner was clearly of
the stuff of which stories have ever
been made. He was fabulous. No
better title for this biography could
possibly have been chosen.
Away with blurns about a Broad
way playboy." He may have been that,
whatever it is, But he was vastly more
than New Yorker of any description.
He comes near indeed being what may
wistfully be called the vanishing
American" as Mr.. Sullivan sets him
down. In his salty wit, his adventure
accepting spirit and above all in the
gorgeous balance and fitness of his
sense Of comedy he seems to have
epitomlzed qualities which once we
liked to characterize as national. Be-
side this, what he actually was and did
is of very little importance in his
story.
To be sure, he did plenty for life
OF so years. One gathers, from the
printed words that he was at various
times a miner, playwright, a pro-
n1oter Of middleweight champion, a
gambler, suave dealer in fake paint
1ngs and a writer of short stories-and
always successful.
But these things are not significant.
What Mr.. Sullivan brings out with a
skill that ought to be studied by all
writer's of lives, is that his hero's es-
sence had nothing to do with occupa-
tions. That essence would seem to have
been simply a. devastating1y plentiful
ability to live.
This Miner-his life was a history
of emergencies met with humor and
polished of with an epigram. In the
course of it he went from Guatemala
to Alaska and from California to Eu-
rope. He was a habitue of Jacks and
Joel's, he knew his Hollywood, his
plays were put on in London, he
prospected gold and he saw revolu-
tions. Other men have done as much,