Evening star., 1935-09-08
By Mary.Carfer Roberts.

-HIS is a novel we'll above the
average run Of fiction. In
deed, as far as insight into
Il her character goes, the author
may be said to have genius. She
has, further, given a uniquely fine
picture of the problems surrounding
the intelligent and sensitive young
woman In the current struggle for
existence. If the sentence seems to
abound in clinches, the seeming is to
be discounted. Exactly what Is said
is meant. The phrases have been used
many times to describe stories about
modern youth" but Mrs. Brousseau's
book Is we'll above the level of most
of that type. She draws a realistic
picture, and her realism Is not col
ored by conventional concepts of what
is real" Although she has pro-
duced a novel, one cannot but wonder
whether her material is auto
biographical.
Her story is that of girl reared
in comfortable home, possessed of
all the usual opportunities to enjoy
herself but cursed (or blessed, If you
prefer by a seeking mind which
cannot be stayed by material salts
factions. We see this character
through her childhood, her adoles-
cence and through two years in col
lege, after which, breaking with her
home, she goes out to earn her own
living. She has two attachments,
neither of which could be called a
love affair; she reads, she studies. but
without finding what she is seeking.
Only after much pain is she able
to put name on it. She calls it
''togetherness." She means a medium
Of meeting for human spirits that
will be devoid of fear and selflshness.
The book leaves her there.
It possibly sounds little trite, but
the writer's approach has nothing of
the formula in it. In drawing her
heroine she has made a real person,
a young woman, not necessarily pecu-
liar to this day. but inevitably shaped
by certain modern phenomena. With
so much to be said in her praise it is
regretable to have to add the COM
ment that Mrs. Brousseau's technical
skill sometimes falls short of her
ability to read the soul and interpret
Its reactions.
This, however, is the case. She has
shown us, with grave implied humor
how the young college men apd
women of today have set up their
new gods and how their talk bristles
with reference to those thinkers who,
in the past, foretold disillusion and
those others who, in the present, have
scientifically demonstrated it-Freud
Nietsche, Spengler, Schopenhauer.
These youths, if they picked up a
handkerchief, explained the action by
one or the other of their deities.
No churchly neophyte of the twelfth
century could have had a mind more
enslaved. And yet, having shown us
this. the writer herself frequently falls
back on these modern credos for
elucidation. The result is, artistically,
confusing.
Further, Mrs. Brousseaus style is
sometimes annoying. Her publisher,
apparently fearing that the book
would be beyond the comprehension
of reviewers, has obligingly furnished
a prepared critique of it, in which 1t
is stated that "the book is written
in a beautiful style, rhythmical,
vivid, clear and intense" Until these
terms have been reduced to measur-
able exactness, of course, they will be
open to individual interpretations
With this license, 1t may be said that
there are passages in which the style
would appear to be anything but vivid,
clear and intense. On the contrary,
1t at times partakes of vague semi
mystical exaltation which is distinctly
detrimental to the precision Of the
idea to be conveyed.
But in all 1t is novel of distinct
worth. 1t is doubtful that it will be
popular. 1t would seem to be re-
moved from the likelihood of general |
approval by its introspectiveness and |
failure to arrive at a conventional
end. For the heroine neither meets
an affinity nor narries. But it will
not be the first book of excellence |
that has not been snapped up for |
q Hollywood script.
LIVING HIGH. BY Alicia ORear-
, don Overlook. New York: D.
Appleton Century Co.
THIS is the story of an American
woman who. with two young
children, went to live in a Bolivian
mining camp. The title is explained
by the fact that the aforesaid camp
was $4,000 feet above sea level The
going would seem to need explaining,
too. That was because the woman's
husband had accepted a job in the
camp. He was mining engineer.
Some Of Mrs. Overbeck's narrative
has already appeared in various mag
azines in the form of articles. Har-
pers, the National Geographic and
the Forum have published these ac-
counts. The present book, however,
contains much beyond these. 1t is
q substantial volume running well
toward 400 pages. When one has
read it. one feels very much acquaint-
ed with the life which the high-hung
camp offered. The barriers of space
and unacQuaintance have gone down
before the sharpness of the authors
reporting. The reader feels that he
could move into Pougo tomorrow, if
occasion called. and not encounter q
single surprise in doing It,
The narrative, on the whole, Is one
Of those pieces of personal writing
which women commit 1t Is highly
superior example of the type, how
ever. Mrs. Overlook Is not chatty
nor delightful" She writes COM
petently. But her viewpoint, in her
mountain-b bound perch, was the view
point, essentially Of the housewife.
She tells us of her servant problem,
her domestic establishment. her chill
dren's illnesses and schooling and the
social code which prevailed among
the camp inhabitants. 1t is tribute
to her sense Of humor that she makes
these matters good reading. But
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