_(By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.)_
MR. E.F. BENSON, seizing occasion as it flies, has given us, in
_Across the Stream_ (MURRAY), a story on the very topical subject of
spiritualism and communication with the dead. As a practised novelist,
with a touch so sure that it can hardly fail to adorn, he has made a
tale that is interesting throughout and here and there aspires to real
beauty of feeling; though not all the writer's skill can disguise a
certain want of unity in the natural and supernatural divisions of
his theme. The early part of the book, which tells of the boyhood
of _Archie_ and the attempts of his dead brother _Martin_ to "get
through" to him, are admirably done. As always in these studies of
happy and guarded childhood, Mr. BENSON is at his best, sympathetic,
tender, altogether winning. There was lung trouble in _Archie's_
record--_Martin_ indeed had died of it (sometimes I wonder whether any
of Mr. BENSON'S protagonists can ever be wholly robust), and there is
a genuine thrill in the scene at the Swiss sanatorium, where the
dead and living boys touch hands over the little _cache_ of childish
treasure buried by the former beneath a pine-tree in the garden.
Later, when _Archie_ had recovered from his disease and grown to
suitor's estate, I could not but feel, despite the sardonically
observed figure of _Helena_, the detestable girl who nearly ruins him,
that the whole affair had become conventional, and by so much lost
interest for its creator. Apart, however, from the bogie chapters of
Possession (which I shall not further indicate) the most moving scenes
in this latter part are those between _Archie_ and his father. I have
seldom known a horrible situation handled with more delicate art; it
is for this, rather than for its slightly unconvincing devilments,
that I would give the book an honourable place in the ranks of
Bensonian romance.
* * * * *
I quite agree with Mr. HAROLD BEGBIE, whose _Mr. Sterling Sticks it
Out_ (HEADLEY) is a generous attempt to put into the form of a story
the case of the conscientious objector of the finest type, that,
when we are able to think about this matter calmly, we shall have
considerable misgivings at least about details in our treatment of
this difficult problem. I also agree that the officials of the Press
Bureau don't come at all well out of the correspondence which he
prints in his preface, and, further, that the Government ought to have
had the courage to alter the law allowing absolute exemption rather
than stretch it beyond the breaking point. But I emphatically dispute
his assumption that the matter was a simple one. It was not the
saintly, single-minded and sweet-natured C.O.'s of _Christopher
Sterling's_ type that made the chief difficulty. There were few of
this literal interpretation and heroic texture. The real difficulty
was created by men of a very different character and in much greater
numbers, sincere in varying degrees, but deliberately, passionately
and unscrupulously obstructive, bent on baulking the national will and
making anything like reasonable treatment of them impossible. It would
require saints, not men, to deal without occasional lapses from strict
equity with such infuriating folk. Mr. BEGBIE'S book is unfair in
its emphasis, but it is not fanatical or subversive, and I can see no
decent reason why it should have been banned. I certainly commend it
to the majority-minded as a wholesome corrective.
* * * * *
That the reviewer should finish his study of the assembled
biographies of twenty-four fallen heroes of this War with a feeling of
disappointment and some annoyance argues a fault in the biographer or
in the reviewer. I invite the reader to be the judge between us,
for _The New Elizabethans_ (LANE) must certainly be read, if only to
understand clearly that there is no fault in the heroes, at any rate.
Mr. E.B. OSBORN describes them as "these golden lads ... who
first conquered their easier selves and secondly led the ancestral
generations into a joyous captivity" (whatever that may mean), and
maintains, against the father of one of them apparently, that he is
apt in the title he has given to them and to their countless peers. I
agree with the father and think they deserve a new name of their own;
such men as the GRENFELL brothers, HUGH and JOHN CHARLTON and DONALD
HANKEY did more than maintain a tradition. There is about DIXON SCOTT,
"the Joyous Critic," something, I think, which will be recognised
as marking a production and a surprise of our own generation--the
"ink-slinger" who, when it came to the point, was found equally
reckless and brave in slinging more dangerous matter. Again, I feel
that there is needed a clearer motive than is apparent to warrant "a
selection of the lives of young men who have fallen in the great war."
Selections in this instance are more odious than comparisons; there
should be one book for one hero. Thirdly, I disapprove the dedication
to the Americans; and, lastly, I found in the author's prose a certain
affectation that is unworthy of the subject-matter. An instance is the
reference to HARRY BUTTERS' "joyous" quotation of the quatrain:--
Every day that passes
Filling out the year
Leaves the wicked Kaiser
Harder up for beer.
I like the quatrain, of course; who, knowing the "Incorrigibles,"
doesn't? But I did not like that reiterated word "joyous."
* * * * *
I should certainly have supposed that recent history had discounted
popular interest in the monarchies of make-believe; in other words,
that when real sovereigns have been behaving in so sensational a
manner one might expect a slump in counterfeits. But it appears that
Mr. H.B. MARRIOTT WATSON is by no means of this opinion. His latest
story, _The Pester Finger_ (SKEFFINGTON), shows him as Ruritanian
as ever. As usual we find that distressful country, here called
_Varavia_, in the throes of dynastic upheaval, which centres, in
a manner also not without precedent, in the figure of a young and
beautiful Princess. This lady, the last of her race, had been adopted
as ward--on, I thought, insufficient introduction--by the hero, _Sir
Francis Vyse_. The situation was further complicated by the fact that
in his youth he had been the officer of the guard who ought to have
prevented the murder of _Sonia's_ august parents, and didn't. Quite
early I gave up counting how many times _Sir Francis_ and his fair
ward were set upon, submerged, imprisoned and generally knocked about.
You never saw so convulsed a courtship; for I will no longer conceal
the fact that, when he was not more strenuously engaged, he soon began
to regard _Sonia_ with a softening eye. And as _Sonia_ herself
was growing up to womanhood, or, in Mr. WATSON'S elegant phrase,
"muliebrity claimed her definitely"--well, he is an enviable reader
for whom the last page will hold any considerable surprise.
* * * * *
"ETIENNE," in an introductory note to _A Naval Lieutenant, 1914-1918_
(METHUEN), gives an excellent reason for wishing to record his
impressions of the "sea affair." He was in _H.M.S. Southampton_ during
the earlier part of the War, and "on all the four principal occasions
when considerable German forces were encountered in the North Sea, her
guns were in action." Very naturally he desired to do honour to this
gallant light cruiser, and I admire prodigiously the modest way in
which he has done it. "ETIENNE" is not a stylist; a professor
of syntax might conceivably be distressed by his confusion of
prepositions; but apart from this detail all is plain sailing--and
fighting. I have read no more thrilling account of the Battle of
Jutland than is to be found here. The author does it so well because
he tells his story with great simplicity and without what I believe
he would call "windiness." Best of all, he has a nice sense of humour,
and would even, I believe, have discovered the funny side of Scapa, if
there had been one. "ETIENNE," whose short stories of naval life were
amusing, makes a distinct advance in this new work.
* * * * *