(_BY MR. PUNCH'S STAFF OF LEARNED CLERKS._)
MR. ARNOLD BENNETT'S new novel, _The Roll Call_ (HUTCHINSON), is
a continuation of the _Clayhanger_ series to the extent that its
hero, _George Cannon_, is the stepson of _Edwin_, who himself makes
a perfunctory appearance at the close of the tale. The scene is,
however, now London, where we watch _George_ winning fame and fortune,
quite in the masterful Five-Towns manner, as an architect. The change
is, I think, beneficial. That quality of unstalable astonishment,
native to Mr. BENNETT's folk, accords better with the complexities
of the wonderful city than to places where it had at times only
indifferent matter upon which to work. But it is noticeable that Mr.
BENNETT can communicate this surprise not only to his characters but
to his readers. There is an enthusiasm, real or apparent, in his art
which, like the beam celestial, "evermore makes all things new," so
that when he tells us, as here, that there are studios in Chelsea
or that the lamps in the Queen's Hall have red shades, these facts
acquire the thrill of sudden and almost startling discovery. I suppose
this to be one reason for the pleasure that I always have in his
books; another is certainly the intense, even passionate sympathy
that he lavishes upon the central character. In the present example
the affairs of _George Cannon_ are shown developing largely under the
stimulus of four women, of whom the least seen is certainly the most
interesting, while _Lois_, the masterful young female whom _George_
marries, promises as a personality more than she fulfils. We conduct
_George's_ fortunes as far as the crisis produced in them by the
War, and leave him contemplating a changed life as a subaltern in
the R.F.A. It is therefore permissible to hope that in a year or
two we may expect the story of his reconstruction. I shall read it
with delight.
* * * * *
_Iron Times with the Guards_ (MURRAY), by an O.E., is emphatically
one of the books which one won't turn out from one's war-book shelf.
It fills in blanks which appear in more ambitious and more orderly
narratives. This particular old Etonian, entering the new Army by way
of the Territorials in the first days of the War, was transferred, in
the March of 1915, to the Coldstreams and was in the fighting line
in April of the same year. A way they had in the Army of those great
days. Details of the routine of training, reported barrack-square
jests and dug-out conversations, vignettes of trench and field,
disquisitions on many strictly relevant and less relevant topics,
reflections of that fine pride in the regiment which marks the best
of soldiers, an occasional more ambitious survey of a battle or a
campaign--all this from a ready but not pretentious pen, guided by a
sound intelligence and some power of observation, makes an admirable
commentary. Our author's narrative carries us to those days of the
great hopes of the Spring of 1917, hopes so tragically deferred.
Perhaps the best thing in an interesting sheaf is the description
of the attack of the Guards Division--as it had become--on the
Transloy-Lesboeufs-Ginchy road, with its glory and its carnage.
* * * * *
It is to be feared that _Battle Days_ (BLACKWOOD), a new work by Mr.
ARTHUR FETTERLESS, author of _Gog_, will lose a good many readers as
the result of the armistice. There are battle stories and battle books
that are not stories that will live far into the piping times of peace
because they are human documents or have the stamp of genius. These
attractions are not present in _Battle Days_, which in truth is rather
a prosy affair, though ambitious withal. It is not fiction in the
ordinary sense. Mr. FETTERLESS essays to conduct the reader through
every phase of a big "Push." Pushes were complicated affairs, and the
author does not spare us many of the complications. And unless the
reader happens to be an ardent militarist he is apt to push off into
slumberland. Cadets should be made to read this book as a matter of
instruction; for, though it lacks the subtle humour that endeared
_Duffer's Drift_ to us, it provides a striking analysis of modern
trench warfare.
* * * * *
_The Curtain of Steel_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) is the fourth book which
the author of _In the Northern Mists_ has given us during the War, and
in essentials it is the most valuable of the quartette. For here we
have real history, served, it is true, with some trimmings, but none
the less a true record of the doings of our Grand Fleet since the day
when the "curtain" was lowered. "Nothing," our author says, "nauseates
a naval man so much as the attempt to represent him as a hero or to
theatricalise him and his profession." It behoves me then to choose
my words with the utmost circumspection, and I beg him to forgive my
audacity when I say that, if I were Book-Controller, a copy of _The
Curtain of Steel_ would be in (and out of) the library of every
school in the Empire. I find courage to make this statement because I
see that he does not deny that a part of our "disease of ignorance"
concerning the Senior Service is due to the modesty of Naval men.
If he will please go on correcting that ignorance, and in the same
inspiring style, I wish an even greater access of power to his elbow.
* * * * *
"I am allowed the reputation of a tolerable guide in writing and
style, and I can certainly help you to produce clear English." These
words, written in 1881, are to be found in a letter of GEORGE MEREDITH
to his eldest son. They show how wildly mistaken even the best of us
may be with regard to our own qualities and gifts; for if there is one
thing that MEREDITH could not produce, that thing is clear English.
Mr. S.M. ELLIS agrees with me in this particular point, and has
written _George Meredith: His Life and Friends in Relation to his
Work_ (GRANT RICHARDS) to prove that this is so. The book is a curious
compound. At one moment Mr. ELLIS sets out in detail the Meredithian
genealogy, and shows that MEREDITH was the son and grandson of tailors
and did not relish the relationship; at another moment he describes
MEREDITH'S delightful and exuberantly youthful characteristics as a
friend; and again he shows how badly MEREDITH behaved in regard to his
first wife (though she was much more in fault), and also in regard to
his first son, Arthur. Still the book is extremely interesting and,
though it does not profess to deal in elaborate criticism, it contains
some very shrewd comments on MEREDITH'S work and the reasons that made
his novels so many sealed books to the British public. Here and there
Mr. ELLIS allows himself almost to write a passage or two in the style
of the master. This is one of them: "As he [Maurice Fitzgerald] was
the gourmetic instrument that brought Mrs. Ockenden's art to perfect
expression, he appropriately attained immortalisation jointly with her
at the hands of the friend who had shared with him the joys of that
good woman's superlative cookery in Seaford days."
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE PAY-TABLE. (THE END OF A PERFECT WAR.) "JOHN SMITH,
A.B., THREE POUNDS TEN--IN DEBT."]
* * * * *
"Wanted, half-governess for boy aged nine, girl aged six;
wages £30 per year."--_Morning Post_.
A half-governess is, we suppose, the feminine equivalent of two
quartermasters.
* * * * *
"Lady Nurse, nursery college trained, wanted, under 34;
very experienced babies."--_Provincial Paper_.
Perhaps they will know too much for her.
* * * * *
"Will gentleman, navy mackintosh, who spoke to lady, blue
hat, vicinity Park Station, Tuesday, 6 o'clock, speak again
same time?"--_Liverpool Echo_.
The gentleman will doubtless beg a ride on Mr. H.G. WELLS'S "Time
Machine" in order to get back in time for the appointment.
* * * * *
[Sir WILLIAM BEVERIDGE. K.O.B., has been appointed Permanent
Secretary to the Ministry of Food.]
To skimp its daily bread for beer
Was not this nation's mood;
But now with lightened hearts we hear
That BEVERIDGE turns to Food.