(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)
Whatever else may be said about Mr. ARTHUR COMPTON-RICKETT as a novelist,
it can at least be urged for him that he displays no undue apprehension of
the too-facile laugh. For example, the humorous possibilities (or perils)
in the plot of _The Shadow of Stephen Wade_ (JENKINS) might well have
daunted a writer of more experience. _Stephen Wade_ was an ancestor, dead
some considerable time before the story opens, and--to quote the old
jest--there was no complaint about a circumstance with which everybody was
well satisfied. The real worry over _Stephen_ was twofold: first, that in
life he had been rightly suspected of being rather more than a bit of a
rip, and secondly that his grandson, _Philip_, the hero of the story, had
what seemed to him good cause for believing that _Stephen's_ more
regrettable tendencies were being repeated in himself. Here, of course, is
a theme capable of infinite varieties of development; the tragedies of
heredity have kept novelists and dramatists busy since fiction began. The
trouble is that, all unconsciously, Mr. COMPTON-RICKETT has given to his
hero's struggles a fatally humorous turn. _Philip's_ initial mistake
appeared to be the supposition that safety could be secured by flight. But
it has been remarked before now that Cupid is winged and doth range.
_Philip_ dashed into the depths of Devonshire, only to discover that even
there farmers have pretty daughters; seeking refuge in the slums he found
that the exchange was one from the frying-pan to the fire. In short, there
was no peace for him, till the destined heroine.... Well, you can now see
whether you are likely to be amused, edified, or bored by a well-meaning
story, told (I should add) with a rather devastating solemnity of style.
* * * * *
M. HENRI DOMELIER, the author of _Behind the Scenes at German Headquarters_
(HURST AND BLACKETT), must also be accounted among the prophets, for he
foretold the invasion of Belgium. Before the War he edited a newspaper in
Charleville, and when the Ardennes had been "inundated by the enemy hordes"
and the local authorities had withdrawn to Rethel, he stayed in Charleville
and acted as Secretary to the Municipal Commission. This organisation was
recognised by the Germans, but to be secretary of it was still a dangerous
post, and M. MAURICE BARRÈS in eloquent preface tells us of some of the
sufferings that M. DOMELIER had to endure while trying to carry out his
difficult duties. The French who remained in Charleville had more than
ample opportunities of seeing both the EX-KAISER and his eldest son, and M.
DOMELIER writes of them with a pen dipped in gall. No book that I have read
puts before one more poignantly the miseries which the inhabitants of
invaded France had to bear during "the great agony." For the most part they
bore them with a courage beyond all praise; but some few, giving way under
stress of physical suffering or moral temptation, forgot their nationality;
and these M. DOMELIER makes no pretence to spare. I think that even those
of us who have definitely made up our minds regarding the Hun and want to
read no more about him will welcome this book. For if it is primarily an
indictment of Germans and German methods, it is hardly less a tribute to
those who held firm through all their misery and never gave up hope during
the darkest days.
* * * * *
I have before now met (in books) heroes who wore dungaree and had as
setting an engineer-shop or a foundry, but never one who equalled _Jim
Robinson_ (HUTCHINSON) in the strictness of his attention to business.
_Jim_ is the managing director of _Cupreouscine, Limited_, a firm which
deals in a wonderful copper alloy which he himself has invented, and the
book tells the story of his long and losing fight against the other
directors, who are all in favour of amalgamation with another and much
larger concern. Sketched in so few words the book's subject sounds
unattractive, but Miss UNA L. SILBERRAD has a genius for making "shop" as
interesting in her novels as it usually is in real life, and _Jim's_ plans
and enterprises and the circuitous ways of the other directors provide
material for quite an exciting story. When I say "other directors," _Mary
Gore_, representing a brother on the board of _Cupreouscine_ and backing
_Jim_ through thick and thin to the limit of her powers, must be excepted.
In spite of her gracious reserve and self-possession, it is plain that
_Mary_ loves the busy managing director; but _Jim's_ feelings are more
difficult to fathom. In fact he is so long in mentioning his passion that
it is quite a relief when, on the last page but one, what publishers call
the "love interest" suddenly strengthens and their engagement is announced,
very suitably and to her entire satisfaction, to the charwoman at the
foundry.
* * * * *
_Open the Door_ won the two hundred and fifty pounds prize offered by
Messrs. MELROSE, and without troubling to inquire into the merits of its
rivals I wholeheartedly commend the award. For some curious reason its
length (one hundred and eighty thousand words--no less) is insisted upon by
the publishers, but as a matter of fact Miss CATHERINE CARSWELL'S novel
would have been even more remarkable if it had been of a less generous
bulk. Her style is beyond reproach and she has nothing whatever to learn in
the mysteries of a woman's heart. The principal scenes are placed in
Glasgow, and the _Bannermann_ family are laid stark before us. _Mrs.
Bannermann_ was so intent on the next world that for all practical purposes
she was useless in this. Having been left a widow with two sons and two
daughters, she was incapable of managing the easiest of them, let alone
such an emotional complexity as _Joanna_. It is upon _Joanna_ that Miss
CARSWELL has concentrated her forces; but she is not less happy in her
analysis of the many lovers who fell into the net of this seductive young
woman. Indeed I have not for many a day read a novel of which the
psychology seemed to me to be so thoroughly sound.
* * * * *
I hope "Miss M.E. FRANCIS" will take it as a compliment when I say that
_Beck of Beckford_ (ALLEN AND UNWIN) should form part of the holiday
equipment of all of us whose brows are not too exalted to enjoy it. In her
unostentatious way Miss FRANCIS knows how to provide ample entertainment,
and she has nothing to learn in point of form. When we are introduced to
the _Becks_ they are proud and poor, having impoverished themselves in the
process of removing a blot from their escutcheon. _Sir John_ is a working
farmer, and _Lady Beck_ does menial duties with an energy that most
servants of to-day would not care to imitate. The apple of their old eyes
is their grandson, _Roger_, and the story turns on his struggle between
pride and love. No true Franciscan need be told that he comes through his
struggle, with flying colours. So quietly and easily does the tale run that
one is apt to overlook the art with which it is told. But the art is there
all the time.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Countrywoman_ (_her first glimpse of the sea_). "AIN'T IT
ASTONISHIN', WILLIUM? WHO'D 'AVE THOUGHT THEER COULD BE AS MUCH WATER AS
THAT?"
_Willium._ "YES; AN' REMEMBER, MARIA, YE ONLY SEE WHAT'S ON TOP."]
* * * * *
"You can greet an acquaintance while you are cycling by smiling and
nodding your head or by waving. Which you do depends on the depth of
your acquaintanceship."--_Home Notes._
And not, as you might think, on your proficiency as a cyclist.