(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)
Recent developments have given an unexpectedly topical interest to a
new book by Professor PAUL MILIUKOV, L.L.D., entitled _Bolshevism: an
International Danger_ (ALLEN AND UNWIN). The whole question of the _de
facto_ Government of Russia is so fiercely controversial that it is
not to be expected that such a work should escape violent criticism
from those for whom that Government can do no wrong, though the writer
justly claims that (however obvious his own views) he has striven to
be strictly fair to those of the enemy. The scheme of his work has
been "to trace the evolution of Bolshevism from an abstract doctrine
to a practical experiment." One may excusably find the history a grim
and menacing one. In the course of it Professor MILIUKOV tells again
the tragedy of the great betrayal (which it will do no one harm to
ponder upon just now), when the Commander of the 1st corps of the
Siberian Army reported: "A brilliant success crowned our efforts ...
there remained before us only a few fortifications, and the battle
might soon have taken the character of a complete destruction of the
enemy." But the work of M. LENIN had been too thorough; instead of a
victory that might have ended the War and saved thousands of lives, we
saw this already triumphant army, equipped through British industry,
melt into a disorganised rabble. Nor is the writer less interesting
on other aspects of his theme; in particular an exposition of the
notorious Third International and a survey of the present-moment
activities of Bolshevist propaganda, notably in our own country. No
one who wishes to read and keep for reference a clearly written and
understandable survey of the most urgent problem in modern politics
need go further than this short but highly concentrated study.
* * * * *
_The March to Paris and the Battle of the Marne, 1914_ (ARNOLD), by
Generaloberst ALEXANDER VON KLUCK, is more of a soldiers', indeed a
staff-officers', book than any that has appeared here from the other
side. It deals exclusively with the operations of the German right
wing, VON KLUCK'S own (first) army and his _liaison_ with the second
(VON BUeLOW'S), during the move forward to the Grand Morin, the allied
counter-offensive and the establishment of the line of the Aisne--that
is from the twelfth of August to the twelfth of September. The
principal army orders are given textually. An admirable map
illustrates each day's routes and billets for his first line and
second line troops, his cavalry and the extreme right of the second
army. VON KLUCK'S explanation of his breach of the Supreme Command's
orders and the manoeuvre which exposed him to MANOURY'S stroke was
that, while ignoring the letter, he was acting in the spirit of those
orders on the information available; that a pause to fulfil them
literally would have given the enemy time to recover; that defective
intelligence kept him ignorant of the fact that the German left and
centre had been definitely held by the French (if he had known this
he would not, he says, have crossed the Marne). An examination of the
frontispiece portrait suggests that this fighting General would
easily find excellent reason for disobeying other people's orders and
maintain an obstinate defence of his own decisions once made, however
disastrous in result. Notes by the historical section (military
branch) of the Committee of Imperial Defence point out inaccuracies
and contradictions which the lay reader would be unlikely to discover
for himself. He will however, if I mistake not, appreciate a soldierly
narrative, unspoiled by "political" parentheses or underestimation of
opponents, of what was undoubtedly a great military feat. The German
right wing covered the most ground and met perhaps the toughest of the
fighting.
* * * * *
I have found in _Lighting-up Time_ (COBDEN-SANDERSON) that all too
rare thing, a theatrical novel of which the vitality does not expire
towards the end of the fourth chapter. Obviously Mr. IVOR BROWN knows
the life of modern stageland, one would say, with the intimacy of
personal experience. More important still, he commands an easy style
and a flow of genial, not too esoteric, humour that combine to keep
the reader chuckling and curious to the last page. His title is
characteristic, _Lighting-up Time_ symbolising here that period in
the career of an actress when her possibly waning attractions need the
illumination of a judicious boom. The two main characters are
_Mary Maroon_, the leading lady, and _Peter Penruddock_, the astute
publicity agent who engages to set her upon her financial and artistic
pedestal. _Peter_, in other words, is _Mary's_ tide, taken at the
flood in chapter one, and leading her, very divertingly, on to
fortune. Both the tour of _Stolen or Strayed_ and the company that
present it are admirably true to life, while Mr. BROWN has even been
able convincingly to suggest the atmosphere of theatrical Oxford, when
in due course his mummers descend upon that home of lost comedies and
impossible revues. If I have a complaint against the book it is that a
tale of such pleasant irony hardly needed the general pairing-off with
which the author rings down his curtain; but for this Noah's Ark
I should have more easily believed in a story that entertained me
throughout.
* * * * *
There are some forty-odd bits in _A Bit at a Time_ (MILLS AND BOON),
and they embrace a variety of subjects, ranging from crocuses in
Kensington Gardens to corpse-boats on the Tigris. They are all,
whether sentimental, satirical or pathetic, fiction of the lightest
type. Such literature was eminently readable during the War--most
of Mr. DION CLAYTON CALTHROP'S bits have to do with somebody's
"bit"--when a touch of conventional pathos and pretended cynicism
and a generous padding of humour, real or forced, provided sufficient
relaxation from the strain of anxious hours. But the wisdom of
republishing them in book form in these sober days of peace is open to
question. When Mr. CALTHROP talks satirically of "perfect officials"
or of an earnest young American aviator who writes letters home in
a United States dialect that was never heard on land or sea outside
Bayswater, or of the war-time adventures of one _Mr. Mason_, skipper,
and _Mr. Smith_, his mate, he is tolerably amusing. When he becomes
serious, as in "The Prayer of the Classical Parson" and "When the Son
Came Home," his limitations become increasingly apparent. Yet it is
in this vein that he gives us what is by all odds his best bit, "The
Chevalier of Carnaby Row." When he writes of Cupids and fauns and
Columbines and rose-leaves and the sort of young females that find
this environment congenial (in books) I like Mr. CALTHROP least.
Perhaps it is because the publishers have put his picture on the paper
cover. He looks much too stalwart and sophisticated to be toying with
such gossamer fantasies.
* * * * *
[Illustration: LIFE'S LITTLE ANOMALIES.
HOW MANY THOUSANDS OF POUNDS HAVE BEEN OFFERED TO CARPENTER AND
DEMPSEY TO FIGHT, AND NOW HERE IS A KIND OLD LADY GIVING TWO BOYS
SIXPENCE EACH IF THEY'LL PROMISE _NOT_ TO.]
* * * * *
I doubt whether the complications which attend the devolution of dead
men's property were created for the confusion of survivors or for the
convenience of novelists. In the case of _The Lost Mr. Linthwaite_
(HODDER AND STOUGHTON), _Mrs. Byfield_ had married _Mr. Byfield_, or
at least she thought she had, and _Mr. Byfield_ had died, supposedly
intestate. Previously _Mrs. Byfield_ had married _Mr. Melsome_, or
again she thought she had, and _Mr. Melsome_ had disappeared and was
assumed to be dead, leaving nothing behind him except a brother as
vile as himself. The following discoveries were made by her in due
sequence: That _Mr. Melsome_ was not dead and that therefore she was
not _Mrs. Byfield_ but _Mrs. Melsome_; that _Mr. Melsome_ was already
married when he purported to marry her, and that therefore she was not
_Mrs. Melsome_ but _Mrs. Byfield_; and that a solicitor's clerk was
absconding with the bulk of the _Byfield_ estate, which, of course,
was what the bother was all about. Her son, bitten with the craze for
discoveries, then discovered on his own that the late _Mr. Byfield_
hadn't died intestate. I wonder myself if he ever really died at
all.... These are what Mr. J. S. FLETCHER very aptly calls the mere
legalities; the plot, which thickens and thickens from first page to
last, concerns the handling of them by the evil but talented _Melsome_
brothers, the accidental intervention of _Mr. Linthwaite_, and the
rescue work of his admirable nephew, _Mr. Richard Brixey_, of _The
Morning Sentinel_. Mr. FLETCHER tells his story well, but up to the
very last moment I was looking and hoping for a surprise and was
suspecting those legalities of being a deception invented to make
the surprise all the greater. A first-class adventure, in my opinion
spoilt by the sacrifice of originality to technicality.
* * * * *
"The girls, to the number of 116, escaped in their night
attire, and displayed great coolness."--_News of the World._
Very natural.
* * * * *
"Baron Evence Coppee, a Belgian, has been arrested on
the charge of furnishing coal to the enemy during the
war."--_Daily Paper._
With a name like that the copper could hardly miss him.
* * * * *
"Sir Robert is now satisfied, I understand, that there
is considerable merit in the adage 'all comes to he who
waits.'"--_Daily Paper._
SIR ROBERT seems easily pleased.
* * * * *
"ORCHESTRA (small), or few Instrumentalists, for sea-handling
Margarine and Butter in up-to-date style."--_Advt. in
Provincial Paper._
But we fear that some of the stuff met with nowadays would "beat the
band."