Evening star., 1935-11-03

pellent to him and yet which he
cannot help but recognize as being
endowed with the indispensable quail
ity of literature-lasting significance.
The contrast in such a case is
usually between material and theme.
The reader will see the truth of the
finished work, but will wish that it
had been developed in different terms.
The wish, of course. IS entirely lille
gitimate. The artists materials are
his own concern; the public has no
right to criticize anything of his work
but the finished piece.
Notwithstanding this obvious con-
dition, it will probably require very
high standard of critical ethics to
get most readers through THE
Asiatics" without feeling OF revul-
sion The theme is no more startling
idea than that of human decadence
and futility. But the materials
through which it Is developed are
grotesque and often hideous.
The book is, physically. the account
of a young mans travel across Asia
by way of Turkey, Persia, Baluchistan.
India. Indo-China and China. He
was poor. hence his progress was
among the lowest classes. The book
abounds with descriptions of people,
cities, inns, caravans and country in
which there is some beautiful writing.
But the theme of decadence predom-
mates in all passages. From every
group and country the author drew
the opinion that the Asiatics were
sunk in the apathy which precedes
death, and which is so all-embracing
that any effort to escape it must
needs bear the look of the feeblest
folly.
Interpreted spiritually, the book
would seem to 60 even further. Into
the mouth of one of his European
characters Mr.. Prokosch puts these
words. which seem to be spoken for
himself.
We're all Asiatics. = We're
lost, the race is dying. What's ahead
of us except dark age? What
possibly? Straight into deep, deep
darkness, that's where we're going:
don't deceive yourself. I know it.
We're waiting for one thing, all Of us.
Some of us know it and some of us
don't, that's the only difference.
Man no longer desires
reason. He no longer desires order.
He no longer desires love or joy.
There's only one thing he wants.
Look around. What do you see?
Darkness, darkness"
To the dreadful beauty of this con-
cept the author brings any material
which comes to hand. His hero spent
some months in political prison
in Turkey; he was caught in plague
village in Indo-C China; he was
captured by bandits in Persia; he was
the guest of mahara jah. He paints
sometimes with filth, sometimes with
jewels. They are only different forms
of the same thing anyway, he seems
to tell us in a manner of polished
indifference.
It is a book that will hold the read
er, even as it repels him. 1t is only
when the volume has been laid aside
that critical consciousness will remind
one that it has theatrical quality in
many of its episodes which exceeds
possibility. And also that the episodes
themselves are sometimes repetitious.
THE LIVING OF CHARLOTTE PER-
KINS GILMAN. With preface
by zona Gale. New York: D. Ap-
pleton-C Century Co.
THIS is the story of great feminist.
one ol the women whom Carrie
Chapman Gait named on her list of
the IL greatest of America. She was
a crusader of boundless energy. She
advocated universal suffrage, greater
Of women from domestic
slavery, improved marriage relations,
economic independence and
q less dogmatic form of religion. She
accomplished a vast amount and won
indisputable recognition in her life
time. In August of the present year
she ended her life with an act of
simple, fortnight courage, when she
realized that she was suffering from
an incurable malady A letter which
she left contained the terse explana-
tion of her act: II have preferred
to cancer" It is curious
thing, in view of the greatness Of her
career, that her own story of it should
be spasmodic and utterly artleSs.
It is sometimes the case. when
woman has accomplished q great
Thing. that she feels that she Is en-
titled to attention on the grounds OF
her sex as well as those of her achieve.
nent. In view Of history, this is per.
'ectly natural. It is even inevitable.
Rut q book Is . book. It should rep