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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -</style> -<title>HUGH WALPOLE: AN APPRECIATION</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Hugh Walpole: An Appreciation" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Joseph Hergesheimer" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1919" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="42383" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2013-03-20" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Hugh Walpole: An Appreciation" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="Hugh Walpole: An Appreciation" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="walpole.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2013-03-21T02:26:56.609481+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42383" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="Joseph Hergesheimer" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="2013-03-20" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20a5 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -<style type="text/css"> -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } -</style> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="hugh-walpole-an-appreciation"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">HUGH WALPOLE: AN APPRECIATION</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Hugh Walpole: An Appreciation -<br /> -<br />Author: Joseph Hergesheimer -<br /> -<br />Release Date: March 20, 2013 [EBook #42383] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>HUGH WALPOLE: AN APPRECIATION</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container coverpage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 51%" id="figure-19"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Cover" src="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Cover</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 62%" id="figure-20"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="HUGH WALPOLE" src="images/img-front.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">HUGH WALPOLE</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">HUGH WALPOLE</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="italics large">An Appreciation</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">by</em><span class="medium"> -<br />JOSEPH HERGESHEIMER</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">Author of "Three Black Pennys" -<br />"Java Head", etc.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Together with Notes -<br />and Comments on the Novels of -<br />Hugh Walpole</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">NEW YORK -<br />GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container verso"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">Copyright, 1919 -<br />GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="large">BOOKS BY HUGH WALPOLE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span class="medium">NOVELS</span></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span class="medium">THE WOODEN HORSE -<br />MR. PERRIN AND MR. TRAILL -<br />THE GREEN MIRROR -<br />THE DARK FOREST -<br />THE SECRET CITY</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span class="medium">ROMANCES</span></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span class="medium">THE PRELUDE TO ADVENTURE -<br />FORTITUDE -<br />THE DUCHESS OF WREXE -<br />MARADICK AT FORTY</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span class="medium">BOOKS ABOUT CHILDREN</span></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span class="medium">THE GOLDEN SCARECROW -<br />JEREMY</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span class="medium">BELLES-LETTRES</span></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span class="medium">JOSEPH CONRAD: A CRITICAL STUDY</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">HUGH WALPOLE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics large">An Appreciation</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">JOSEPH HERGESHEIMER</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">I</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It is with an uncommon feeling of -gratification that I am able to begin a paper -on Hugh Walpole with the words, in their -completest sense, an appreciation. But this -rises from no greater fact than a personal -difficulty in agreeing with the world at large -about the most desirable elements for a -novel. Here it is possible to say that -Mr. Walpole possesses almost entirely the -qualities which seem to me the base, the absolute -foundation, of a beauty without which creative -writing is empty. In him, to become -as specific as possible, there is splendidly -joined the consciousness of both the inner -and outer worlds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, for a particular purpose, I shall put -my conviction about his novels into an -arbitrary arrangement with no reference to the -actual order of appearance of his dignified -row of volumes. Such a choice opens with -a consideration of what is purely a story -of inner pressures, it continues to embrace -books devoted principally to the visible -world, to London, and ends with a mingling -of the seen and unseen in Russia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet, to deny at once all pedantic pretense, -it must be made clear that my real concern -is with the pleasure, the glow and sense of -recognition, to be had from his pages. The -evoked emotions, which belong to the heart -rather than the head, are the great, the final, -mark of the true novelist. And they may be, -perhaps, expressed in the single word, magic. -Anyone who is susceptible to this quality -needs no explanation of its power and -importance, while it is almost impossible of -description to those upon whom it has no -effect. It is quite enough to repeat it -... magic. At once a train of images, of -memories of fine books, will be set in motion. -Among them the father of Peter Westcott -will appear--a grim evil in a decaying house -heavy with the odor of rotten apples; and, -accompanying them, the mind will be flooded -with the charmed moments of Mr. Walpole's -descriptions: Russian nights with -frozen stars, rooms swimming placid and -strange in old mirrors, golden ballrooms and -London dusks, the pale quiver of spring, of -vernal fragrance, under the high sooty glass -dome of a railroad station.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this, at once, the remarkable delicacy -of his perceptions is made apparent: it is -impossible, in thinking of these books, to -separate what occurs in the sphere of reality -from the vivid pressures, the dim forces, -that, lying back of conscious existence, are -always gathering like portentous storms -behind Mr. Walpole's stories. To have stated -so calmly his passionate belief in just these -influences was, at the time most of his books -were written, an act of that courage he has so -persistently extolled. Yet the details of his -fortitude belong properly to the examination -of individual novels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Time, however, has altogether justified -his spiritual preoccupations: the literature of -the surface of things, the sting of onions in -a glittering tin bowl, æsthetic boys--still the -wistful ghost of Wilde, the flaneur--dragged -through the pages of Freud, unlimited -sentences in sociology hardly humanized by a -tagging of proper names and mechanical -desires, have been swept into the dust-bin for -temporary reactions and fevers. Nothing -can be gained by speculation about the future, -it is enough to realize that, in imaginative -letters, the school of arrogant materialism -has been discredited; and that Mr. Walpole, -because of his steadiness in the face of -skeptical and mocking devils, has easily, -securely, entirely, survived the most blasting -and calamitous ordeal men have had yet to meet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His books, from the first to the last, have -not become antiquated; they are as fresh -to-day as they were at any time through the -past ten or twelve years; the people in them, -true in costume and speech to their various -moments, are equally true to that which in -man is changeless. They, the novels, are at -once provincial, as the best novels invariably -are, and universal as any deep penetration -of humanity, any considerable artistry, must -be. Never merely cosmopolitan, never -merely smart--even in his knowledge of -smart people--they are sincere without -being stupid, serious without a touch of -hypocrisy; and on the other hand, light without -vapidity, entertaining with never a compromise -nor the least descent from the most -dignified of engagements.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this, on the plane to which I am -confined--the pleasure to be had from -accumulated words--is as rare as it is delightful. -The world, particularly the world of -novel-writing, is choked with solemn pretensions -and sly lies; it, the latter, is the fertile field -of all the ignorances--the dogmatic, the -degenerate, the hysterical, the venal. And, -unhappily, there seems to be very nearly a -public for each; unhappily the deeply bitten -prejudices of men, the secretive hopes of -women, control to an amazing degree their -opinions of the one medium--the written -story--that should be kept superior to all -pettiness as a resource solely of alleviation. -Usually great creative writers--gifted, -together with pity, with clarity of vision--have -dealt in a mood of severity with life; -they are largely barred, by their covenant -with truth, from the multitude; but -Mr. Walpole, not lacking in the final gesture of -greatness, has yet the optimism that sees -integrity as the master of the terrors. -Literature, different from painting and music, -serves beauty rather by the detestation of -ugliness than in the recording of lyrical -felicities. But, again, Mr. Walpole has -countless passages of approval, of verbal -loveliness, that must make him acceptable not -only to a few but to many.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In reading, for example, The Secret City, -there is the satisfaction of realizing that the -consequent enjoyment rises from an unquestionably -pure source. It is a preoccupation -to be followed with utter security--for once -an admirable thing, a fine thing, is altogether -pleasurable.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">II</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Walpole's courage in the face of the -widest skepticism is nowhere more daring -than in The Golden Scarecrow. The book -itself, in both conception and composition, -presented extraordinary difficulties; one of -those themes clear enough in the creative -mind, but so deep in implication, so veiled -in mystery, so elusive psychologically, that to -put it at all upon paper was an accomplishment -of very high order. In brief, it is -founded on the implication that children born -into this faulty world retain, for varying -short periods, memories of a serene existence -from which they were banished into human -consciousness. This remembrance is -embodied in the appearance, in dim rooms, -against the sunset, in the mists of beginning -sensations, of a kindly protecting shape with -a beard. The vision is all tenderness and -gentle melancholy wisdom ... Christ!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The particular danger in such a narrative -is the almost inescapable shadow of -mechanical sentimentality. The conjunction of -Christ and little children is perfectly safe to -evoke of itself the tear of ready sympathy; -and miracles, from the beginning to the late -Irish school and later, have been the chosen -medium for a useful and easy squeezing of -the heart. But, it should be said at once, -The Golden Scarecrow is remarkably free -from the merely easy, or from cheaply -borrowed pathos. It is sustained not only by -beautiful phrasing, delicate imagery, but -equally by an iron rod of truth. If the vision -exists, clad in splendor invisible to anything -but innocence, so too does the world -Mr. Walpole clearly sees and correctly grasps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knows that, while there may be a -Saviour for purity in extra-mundane spheres, -in London there is no such security: there -is always the ugly possibility, no--probability, -of accident, of the destruction--by -cruelty or envy or vice or sheer -carelessness--of youth. In addition to this The -Golden Scarecrow gathers importance with -the increasing recognition of the extreme -importance of the impressions of childhood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Addressing, with his surprising and -justified confidence, the instincts of the -newly-born, he follows the human mind opening -gradually to the spectacle of living. The -progress is established by a succession of -episodes, of stories really, bound into a -whole by a return, at the book's end, to -its beginning statement and mood, and by a -single passionate conviction. It is this, -certainly, which gives Mr. Walpole his force -and beauty--the ability to deliver himself -of a high hatred tempered by pity. In -The Golden Scarecrow his resentment has -for incentive the fatalities brought by chance -or design on beings endowed with the finest possibilities.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The arrangement of his novels places this -among Studies in Place; and the scene is -principally March Square, not far from -Hyde Park Corner. There lingers about it -the atmosphere of the days of St. Anne, a -tranquillity hardly disturbed by the din of -London; and its bricks and greenery, its -fountain and statues, one commemorating -a general of the Indian Mutiny and the -other a mid-Victorian figure, are the last -to hold the strains of mendicant street -musicians. To these are added the cries -of children at their games, garlands of -children on the smooth lawn and under the -overhanging trees, and, from around the -corner, the bells of St. Matthew's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Each part has for its central figure a -child of one of the houses surrounding the -Square, from the three-months-old Henry -Fitzgeorge, Marquis of Strether, son of -the Duchess of Crole, to young John -Scarlett, the offspring of a solid K.C., about to -leave home for the adventure of public -school. But there is, in the range of the -book, the greatest possible diversity of -children and houses: 'Enery, the simple-witted -son of Mrs. Slater, care-taker for -Old Lady Cathcart at No. 21; Nancy Ross, -daughter of Munty, of potted shrimp fame, -in danger of being turned by an impossible -mother into an impossible Dresden china -figure, but saved by her ugly black little -father; Sarah Trefusis, living in a smart -little house with green doors and with a -widowed mother of the loveliest and most -unscrupulous of eyes, Sarah possessed of a -sinister devil; Angelina, who would say -"Wosy" when she meant Rose, and -infuriated her two neat aunts with rather -yellow, squashed-looking faces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is, perhaps, to Angelina Braid, that the -memory most persistently returns; for in -the direct story of Angelina and the rag -doll she adored above all others--Rachel -and Lizzie, two Annies, a Mary, a May, a -Blackmoor, a Jap, a Sailor, and a Baby in -a Bath--Mr. Walpole has gathered all his -art and fury. In it hard meanness, petty -destructive tempers, meagreness of heart, -are exposed so utterly that it is difficult to -suppose anyone, reading it, could ever again -support the oppression of a child. The -episode of Angelina Braid is told with the -utmost restraint, its means are simple, -inevitable; but its conveying of irrevocable -harm, of the spirit fluttering away from the -rigidity of flesh, is matchless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a whole The Golden Scarecrow is, -considering its heart of mystery, amazingly -coherent and satisfactory. From the -opening paragraphs, when Hugh Seymour, a -lonely imaginative boy, is mentally bullied -by a stolid school-master, to the last where, -a man, he regains the voice of his Friend, -that Friend of before-birth, the book is a -living entity. Of the golden scarecrow:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To their left a dark brown field rose in -an ascending wave to a ridge that cut the -sky.... The field was lit with the soft -light of the setting sun. On the ridge of -the field something suspended, it seemed, in -mid-air, was shining like a golden fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'What's that,' said Mr. Pidgen again. -It's hanging. What the devil!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They stopped for a moment, then started -across the field. When they had gone a -little way Mr. Pidgen paused again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'It's like a man with a gold helmet. -He's got legs, he's coming to us.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They walked on again. Then Hugh -cried, 'Why, it's only an old scarecrow. -We might have guessed.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The sun, at that instant sank behind the -hills and the world was grey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was, visibly, but an old scarecrow, -with waving tattered sleeves and a tin can -that held the light; but it had been, as well, -a man in a golden helmet. He had come -toward them. That, in a sentence, expresses -Mr. Walpole's magic: we see the rags and -the tin; and we see, too, the heavenly -shining; which is the reality he leaves, as he -must, for our determining.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">III</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In no other novel of Mr. Walpole's are -the forces that--perhaps--lie back of life -so explicitly expressed as in The Golden -Scarecrow, while, of all his books, The -Green Mirror is most frankly concerned -with terrestrial existence. It is the second in -a plan of three called The Rising City, -not, he is careful to inform us, a trilogy. -Indeed, English society, in the broad sense, -placed in London, is the subject of this -series; beyond the introduction in The -Green Mirror of a few names made -familiar by The Duchess of Wrexe, the novels -have no actual intercommunication.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were, however, clearly led up to in -other pages, notably Fortitude; but there -the dark shapes, like embodied evil -passions, were always gathering about the rim -of consciousness. But The Green Mirror, -except in minor incidences, completely -illustrates the spirit in flesh. This it does -delightfully with, and this is surprising, a -most entertaining humor. Aunt Aggie is -one of the old embittered women that -Mr. Walpole understands so thoroughly; but, in -The Green Mirror, he is more lenient with -her than usual. He follows her mind, a -mind like the thin scraping jangle of a -worn-out music-box, with an amazing -flexibility and insight; the latter, in his -consideration of Aunt Aggie, predominates. -Understanding, of course, dissipates hatred: in -the completed picture of ancient maliciousness, -positively wicked in intention, the -reader is continually cheered by perception -of the true, the rare, Comic Spirit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she, Aunt Aggie, is comparatively -unimportant; the weight of The Green -Mirror is the imponderable weight of the -Trenchard family. They are not aristocrats, -such as the late Duchess of Wrexe, or -Roddy Seddon; yet Mr. Walpole makes it -clear that, essentially, they are more deeply -rooted in tradition, in precedent, than a -higher and largely frivolous class.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here, more than by George Trenchard, -the head of this branch of the family, they -are represented by his wife, the mother of -Henry and Millicent and, above all else, of -Katherine. They are shown in the somber -drawing-room of No. 5 Rundle Square, by -Westminster in the heart of London, -passing and repassing in the aqueous depths of -a looking-glass above the mantle:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Trenchard, heavy and placid in -exterior; the gangling Henry, incurably -disorderly and racked by the throes of -green-sickness; Aunt Aggie and Aunt Betty, -sparrow-like, with little glints of cheerfulness; -Grandfather Trenchard, as fragile as -glass in fastidious silver buckles; and Katherine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The story itself is the relation of -Katherine Trenchard's love for Philip Mark, -and how, in the end, it smashed the green -mirror of her family. While it is that in -detail it is, by implication, the history of -the breaking of old English idols. This -duality of being, the specific and the -symbolical is, certainly, almost the prime -necessity for creative literature; and in the -published volumes of The Rising City it is -everywhere carried out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Philip Mark arrives, through a dense -London fog, at the Trenchards' during the -celebration of Grandfather Trenchard's -birthday--the day, above all, inalterably -fixed in their traditions. He is from -Russia--Hugh Walpole's land of supreme -magic--and his coming is the signal for small -irritations, growing complexities, jealousy, -that finally set the individual above custom, -the present over the past.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Philip Mark, or rather the love of -Katherine and Philip, is the cause of so much; -but the most impressive, the most important -figure in the book, is Katherine's mother. -This is a familiar arrangement of -Mr. Walpole's; to erect a largely silent -negative force, like an evil and sometimes -obscene carved god in the shadows, and -oppose to it the tragic vivid necessity of youth. -In The Green Mirror it takes the shape -of maternal jealousy--hard for all its -apparent softness of bosom; cruel in spite of -undeniable affection, cunning as against an -apparent slowness of mentality.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sweep of the novel is rich with acute -observation and borne on by an action -rising--as it always must--from causes at once -trivial, informal, and inevitable. Philip -Mark's past in Moscow, continually coming -to the surface by the utmost diversity of -means and places; now threatening his -happiness, now a foundation for his maturity, -furnishes the center of movement, a fact -taken up as a weapon or justification by -nearly everyone in turn. This, specially to -the Trenchards, is of monumental dimensions; -but its operation, in Henry's undependable -shirt-stud, Aunt Aggie's agitated -slap, has the authentic unheroic accent of reality.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The richness of The Green Mirror, however, -has its inception in Mr. Walpole's -extreme sensitiveness to the spirit of place -and hour: all the translations of his action, -the changes from place to place, day to -night, are recorded with a beautiful and -exact care. This is the result of a pictorial -sense at once strong and delicate. No one -has had more delight from the visible world -than Mr. Walpole, and none has been able -to capture it better in words:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In Dean's Yard the snow, with blue -evening shadows upon it, caught light from -the sheets of stars that tossed and twinkled, -stirred and were suddenly immovable. The -Christmas bells were ringing; all the lights -of the houses in the Yard gathered about -her and protected her. What stars there -were! What beauty! What silence!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This conveyance of a crystal mood, without -exotic or intricate phrases, without -ornament, is the mastery of an art that must be -at once brushed with emotion and serene; -in it lies the miracle of words, inanimate -fragments, brought warmly to life. -Katherine, about whom they were written, is -sentient as well; a girl stronger in the end than -even her mother, a girl who bent being to -her will. A lovely girl, concealing behind -a completely feminine need, behind clothes -never precisely right, Mr. Walpole's beloved courage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here particularly, in Katherine Trenchard, -the individual and universal humanity -are woven one into the other; an immeasurably -greater accomplishment than the -projecting of mere eccentricity, called, I -believe, by the doctors, the creation of -character. Anyone, almost, can invent a set of -whiskers, a stuttering speech, write imposing -indignations into mechanical masks; but only -a few have put all youth into a girl of their -imagination, on almost no pages do we find -the truth that is ourselves.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">IV</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For Mr. Walpole, however, the dark -secret of being was always hidden in the heart -of Russia. It has been his land of enchantment, -of magic and desire; and it possessed -him in the way that Shelley and Browning -were Italianate. The English Merchant -Marine had the same fascination for -Mr. Conrad, the same fascination and -incalculable influence. Throughout Hugh Walpole's -novels there is the persistent turning to the -dream forests and night-ridden cities of -Russia, to the mingled simplicity and -inexplicable complexity of its men and women.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Russia presented the greatest possible -contrast to the England, the English he -knew; and, although Mr. Walpole's -descriptions of London are steeped in beauty, he -has been unable to find there--even in the -serenity of March Square--any such -creative impulse as Petrograd held for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Russian character, too, with its -peculiar freedom from the British defects that -he specially hated, offered him an -uncommonly broad means of expression and -intelligibility. Philip Mark's years in Warsaw, -his mistress there, Anna, formed an ideal -background for the utterly different purity -of Katherine Trenchard. So it was inevitable -that Mr. Walpole should invade Russia -not only with the spirit, but, as well, with -the body of his books. This, of course, was -brought about by the war, and resulted in -the publication of The Dark Forest and The -Secret City.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Dark Forest was, in many ways, a -prelude to the latter. Semyonov, the doctor -with a square, honey-colored beard, the fatal -spirit of the former, accomplishes his final -fatality in The Secret City; the narrator of -one novel is the narrator of the other; but -in The Secret City a great deal that was -nebulous--but in no way ineffective--is -exactly weighed and expressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The surprising quality of The Secret City, -and which makes any description of it -difficult, is that while it is a tragedy, it is -nowhere oppressive. The obvious reason for -this is that the story is vividly -interesting--not because it includes a remarkable -description of the Russian Revolution, but on -account of the humanity and variety of its -characters, the depth of emotion and -brilliancy of surface. In reality, the Revolution -constituted a very serious danger, for in -creative fiction, the author, the novel, must be -greater than the event. A novel holds -within its covers a world of its own, a complete -reality which, for the moment, must take the -place of all other reality; and the presence -in it of an overwhelming contemporary event -may well crush the illusion, the shining ball, -into dull fragments. But this Mr. Walpole -avoids in his concentration upon the -essentials of his purpose; the Revolution, as a -fact, fades before the more enduring -veracity, and importance, of his imagination.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vera and Nina, the fretted Markovitch, -and Jerry Lawrence, tied in a knot of -passion and longing and bitterness, now -struggling blindly and now illuminated with -devastating flashes of realization, are more -compelling than the accidents of wars and -shifting governments. They are the human -means of the drama, but--again--it is a -pressure lying back of living that is mainly -important. In The Secret City, Petrograd -itself controls the mood of the action. -Mr. Walpole has seen it in a unity of tone far -more perfect than his grasp of London. He -sees it impressively somber, an iron city -mostly in the grip of winter, its blackness -emphasized by glittering, immaculate snow, -remote and thinly pure skies, and the crystal -stars to which he is so individually sensitive. -It is, in The Secret City, an evil place, with -bare, wind-swept files of apartment houses, -broad avenues emptied by the staccato rattle -of machine guns and suffocating slums with -dead canals stirred with the vision of -slow-rising, scaly monsters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Against this, however, there are glimpses -of a peasant, a symbolical reality, deeply -bearded and grave and patient, standing, it -might be, on a bridge or disappearing into -the dark. Yet there are no prophecies, no -auguries of a future regenerated from -without. Mr. Walpole is not concerned with the -temporary plasters, the nostrums, of -propaganda. He rests serene in the novelist's -isolation from small responsibilities, -addressed only to the qualities at the base of -humanity from which current fevers rise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And here, at last, he has combined the -inner and outer pressures of which I spoke -at the beginning. While it is true that -Petrograd strikes the persistent keynote of -The Secret City, while he sees monsters -stirring and records dreams woven into the -texture of actuality, these are projections of -the deep significance of Lawrence and -Markovitch; signs and visions are unnecessary -with their complete expression of the states -of the spirit. Lawrence, the Englishman, -slow, fixed in honor and duty, romantically -pure, and the Russian, worn by doubt, -forever lost in the waste between performance -and idea, oppose, perhaps, in little, their -countries. Certainly they illustrate -Mr. Walpole's own questioning and offer facts, -entirely convincing, for the support of his -intricate structures.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Semyonov, who, under almost any other -hand, would have degenerated into a mere -villain, is presented with Mr. Walpole's -passion for entire understanding, that -comprehension which banishes contempt. Vastly -intricate, a character seen on a hundred -sides, he still remains intelligible, consistent; -a consistency which permits him to take -naturally his place in a story at once -involved and simple. He is, above everything, -a spoiled soul; the unhappiest possible -example of the oil of heaven arbitrarily -imposed on the water of earth. His is the -agony of the animal confronted with the -mysteries of the spirit; and the ruin which -emanates from his torment and skeptical -detachment is the result as much of his -superiority as of his fault.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is, more than anything else, the fusion -in The Secret City that, at the time of its -publication, made it the most notable of -Mr. Walpole's novels. As a story it is -enthralling, the mere progress of the action is -irresistible; the atmosphere, the envelopment -of color, is without a rent, a somber veil -like a heavy mist subduing the flashes of red -at the horizon, muffling the sounds and glints -of passion, absorbing the shouted ambitions -of men. That it is not Russia, but himself, -Mr. Walpole has been very careful to point -out; it is simply the land of magic to which -he has been always drawn, and which, -conceivably, having explored, he'll leave, -returning to England.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">V</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a whole, Hugh Walpole's novels -maintain an impressive unity of expression; they -are the distinguished presentation of a -distinguished mind. Singly, and in a group, -they hold possibilities of infinite -development. This, it seems to me, is most clearly -marked in their superiority to the cheap -materialism that has been the insistent note -of the prevailing optimistic fiction. There is -a great deal of happiness in Mr. Walpole's -pages, but it isn't founded on surface -vulgarities of appetite; the drama of his books -is not sapped by the automatic security of -invulnerable heroics. Accidents happen, -tragic and humorous, the life of his novels -is checked in black and white, often -shrouded in grey. The sun moves and stars come -out; youth grows old; charm fades; girls -may or may not be pretty; his old women--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there he is inimitable, the old -gentlewomen, or caretakers, dry and twisted, -brittle and sharp, the repositories of -emotion--vanities and malice and self-seeking--like -echoes of the past, or fat and loquacious with -alcoholic sentimentality, are wonderfully -ingratiating. They gather like shadows, -ghosts, about the feet of the young, and -provide Mr. Walpole with one of his main -resources--the restless turning away of the -young from the conventions, the prejudices -and inhibitions, of yesterday. He is -singularly intent upon the injustice of locking age -about the wrists of youth; and, with him, -youth is very apt to escape, to defy authority -set in years ... only to become, in time, age itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This, of course, is inescapable: the old are -the old, and not least among their infirmities -is the deadening of their sensibilities, the -hardening of their perceptions. But then, -as well, the young are the young, and youth is -folly, blind revolt, contumacy. Here is -perpetual drama and, with it, Mr. Walpole's -hatred of brutality is drawn into practically -all his pictures of childhood, as, for example, -the school in Fortitude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In all this he recognizes clearly that beauty -and ugliness are twisted into the fibre of man, -they are man; without one the other must -cease--in spite of the contrary legend--to -exist. Beauty lies in struggle, in the -overcoming of evil; without struggle there is not -only no story, there is no fineness; and -without evil there can be no good. Victory, -certainly, is not unheard of; but it is rare, the -result of amazing courage, strength, or -amazing luck. To say that anyone, almost, -can triumph over life, that temptation is -easily cast aside, the devil denied on every -hand, is one of the most insidious lies -imaginable. It is an error into which Hugh -Walpole has never fallen; the progress of his -books has been an increasing recognition of -the tragic difficulty of any accomplishment -whatever; and, as time goes by, such success -becomes smaller, more momentary, and more -heroic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The course of the novelist is from the -bright surface of life inward to its -impenetrable heart, from the striking the easy, the -lovely, to the hopelessly hidden mystery of -being; and Mr. Walpole is steadily, perhaps -unconsciously, entering the profounder -darkness. It is a march practically condemned to -failure at the start; but, not only unavoidable, -it is the only attempt worth consideration. -Not a happy fate, God knows, to leave -everything that the world, that people, most -applaud; there is no possibility of mistake about -the latter--the beauty that is truth is not -popular in a society which, blind to its transitory -and feeble condition, must see itself as the -rulers of creation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet this, for its part, is entirely commendable, -the illusion necessary to the sustaining -of an affair difficult at best. Novels that ring -a musical chime of bells, an anodyne for the -heart, are always sure of their welcome; -they represent an appreciation in the -dimension of width; while the reception of The -Secret City goes rather in the direction of -depth. At the same time there is that strange -absence of oppression already noted, a story -always enjoyable for its suspense, the play -of character on character.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The result of the commingling, in Hugh -Walpole, of the seen and the unseen! If he -were a conventional materialist the disasters -to the flesh would be unrelieved tragedy, his -Roderick Seddon, paralyzed for life, would -be, to the haphazard mind, unsupportable; -but Mr. Walpole manages to put the -emphasis on Seddon's spirit, that proves to be -above accident. When Markovitch, at the -end of his unendurable suffering, kills -Semyonov, there is no horror, but only pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The novel, of course, is the man; and the -emotions of The Secret City are the emotions -of Mr. Walpole; it is merely the extension, -by an art and a record, of the mind of its -creator. The pity of the reader is Mr. Walpole's; -wherever his novel goes, wherever it -is read, if there is any response it is one -touched with dignity and wisdom. There is -the validity of the superior accomplishment, -the payment for the failure implied in the -greater undertaking: the recognition of the -insignificant novel is insignificant, it is a part -of the life flashing for a moment in the -sunlight, dead, forgotten, by evening. But if -there is any discoverable solidarity in men, -any hope of final escape from intolerable -futility, it must be assisted, if ever so little, -by the simple honesty, the communication of -fortitude, in books founded, at least, on what -is changeless, inevitable, to living.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When these qualities form the pleasure of -the multitude, as they now do of a minority, -the world will be a vastly different and better -place. Yet this is not primarily, not at all, -I personally feel, Mr. Walpole's concern: he -is the carver on the stone, the embellisher on -parchment; his art is the sign, the -recompense, of civilization. He is the pot of -geraniums in the window, the beauty, utility, -above utility. Not for nothing do we allow -the philosophies, the doctrines, even the -humanities, of the past to fall into oblivion; -while we preserve any marble fragment of -beauty we are so fortunate as to recover.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Walpole is a part of that great -necessity, of the longing, really, for perfection, -for perfect beauty. This, too, is the only -salvation for ease; the animal, when he is -replete, fat, dies; and man, successful in the -flesh, degenerates. There only spirit, beauty, -animates the clay. Roses, in the end, are -more important than cabbages. Here, Hugh -Walpole, cultivating the fine flowers of his -imagination, setting out his gardens in the -waste, is indispensable ... very few have -accomplished that.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">NOVELS by HUGH WALPOLE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics large">Description and Comment</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">THE SECRET CITY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>What is the secret city of the title? -Petrograd? Yes, partly. But much more is it -the citadel of the Russian proverb which recites: -"In each man's heart there is a secret town at -whose altars the true prayers are offered!" And -so what we have in this book before us is first -(and always foremost) the story of several lives. -Petrograd itself, with its insane atmosphere on -the eve of the Revolution, is painted for us -persistently, with many patient and wonderful brush -strokes. The Revolution, or the first weeks of it, -are narrated for us with an eyewitness's veracity -and an eyewitness's incompleteness. But Petrograd -and the Revolution ... all that ... are put -before us only so far as they enter into the lives of -a few people--a family of Russians and three -casual Englishmen. Which is as it should be. -Petrograds change, revolutions come and go; but the -secret city of the human heart is not transformed. -Human motives remain. Human passions ebb and -flow. Human hopes perish--and are reborn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The people of Mr. Walpole's novel are completely -realized. They are as much alive as if they -moved in the flesh before you. The reader may be -baffled by them--many a reader will be, though to -most readers they will be comprehensible before -the closing chapters. But baffling or not, there is -no disbelieving in them. Two of the most -important--Alexei Petrovitch Semyonov and John -Durward, the narrator--are characters in Mr. Walpole's -earlier novel, </span><em class="italics">The Dark Forest</em><span>. It is not -absolutely necessary that before reading The Secret -City you should read </span><em class="italics">The Dark Forest</em><span>, but it is -much to be desired that you do so. Otherwise you -will be unable to fathom Alexei Petrovitch (the -overshadowing character) as adequately as you -ought to from his first entrance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But about the others, the others besides the -sinister Alexei Petrovitch. Take poor old Markovitch, -for example. It's not easy, of course, to see -him as anything but a self-befooled, ridiculous figure -until you grasp that he had three ideals to live up -to. The first was his wife, Vera; then there were -his hopeless inventions; lastly, there was Russia. -Came a time when, as young Bohun, one of the -Englishmen, put it: "He'd lost Russia, he was losing -Vera, and he wasn't very sure about his inventions." At -the last he clung to Russia, hopefully. This -revolution meant something wonderful for her--and -for the whole world!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Take Vera, beautiful and with immortal pride; -with a great and candid courage, too. She had -her sister, the girlish Nina, she had her husband. -What was this tragedy of love that came to her -and destroyed everything? Nina, tempestuous, -lovable, like a child--why in the name of all that -is merciful should </span><em class="italics">she</em><span> have to suffer? Thank God! there -was a happy ending here!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Others--a half dozen or so--that we mustn't -speak of singly. Even such minor characters as -Uncle Ivan and Baron Wilderling are etched -perfectly. We would say a few words about the -background.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Walpole makes Petrograd as memorable a -city as does Tolstoy his Moscow, with Napoleon -gazing upon its rounded domes. And that is -memorable indeed, as any one who ever read </span><em class="italics">War and -Peace</em><span> will certify. An intensely colorful city, -lighted by stars and bonfires, exhaling the stink of -the swamp and Rasputin's corpse, coldly menaced -by the frozen Neva River, a volcano of human -destiny with its thick ice melting rapidly from the -heat of terrible flames underneath. A city where -a great slimy beast seems to appear apocalyptically -from the sheeted waters of the canal. A city where -always there stands silhouetted against the evening -glow the immense figure of a black-bearded peasant, -grave, controlled, thoughtful, watching. A city -of dream--only the dream is true.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There can be no doubt about it; this is a noteworthy -book, a beautifully written book and--what -is best of all--a book with a backbone. You may -like it or you may not; you will be unable, we -believe, to withhold admiration.--From a review in -</span><em class="italics">The New York Sun</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Hugh Walpole has proved his right to eminence. -</span><em class="italics">The Secret City</em><span> is a worthy successor to </span><em class="italics">The Dark -Forest</em><span>. His art in presentation is consummate. But -the trait that stands out in his writings is his -humanity."--</span><em class="italics">Chicago Daily News</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is, we believe, Mr. Walpole's best novel, -a finer book even than </span><em class="italics">The Dark Forest</em><span>. Its -descriptive passages are many of them superb; we get -the sense of the strange and alien forces lying -beneath the somewhat Europeanized surface of -Petrograd in a truly remarkable way."--</span><em class="italics">New York -Times</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is one of Mr. Walpole's achievements in this -book that along with his philosophic study of -Russian minds and matters, he maintains a running, -throbbing story of the romance-tragedy of the -Markovitch home. Its form and style confirm it -in a place of great literary distinction. Being the -sort of book one desires to keep as well as to read, -it sustains the final test of a fictional work."--</span><em class="italics">New -York World</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hugh Walpole has equalled himself at his best -and far surpassed himself at his second best. A novel -of the rare sort that is meant for the delight of -discriminating readers."--</span><em class="italics">Washington Star</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The best recommendation of his novel is its -excellent quality as a story: its absorbing interest in -character."--</span><em class="italics">Boston Herald</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The story is tensely dramatic in its incidents -and situations, its characters are real and -interesting.... You cannot merely read this book, for -if you mean to keep on you must think and keep on -thinking."--</span><em class="italics">San Francisco Chronicle</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Walpole is a story-teller with something -in him besides fine facility, and it is fascinating to -consider this excellent example of his work."--</span><em class="italics">The -New Republic</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Somehow, by the magic of his words, Mr. Walpole, -in his portrayal of a people in the process of -evolving, makes his readers understand better what -has taken place in Russia than political experts in -many an analytical treatise."--</span><em class="italics">Springfield Union</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One of the best sustained, most continuously -interesting and dramatic stories Mr. Walpole has -written."--</span><em class="italics">New York Globe</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is his best work as a piece of literature and it -is his most important as an ethical, sociological and -political study."--</span><em class="italics">New York Tribune</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">JEREMY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The real beauty, tenderness and gaiety of -childhood is an elusive thing--too elusive often -to be caught and pressed into words. By some -magic of his own Hugh Walpole has made live -again in Jeremy the childhood that we all knew -and that we turn back to with infinite longing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With affectionate humorousness, Mr. Walpole -tells the story of Jeremy and his two sisters, Helen -and Mary Cole, who grow up in Polchester, a -quiet English Cathedral town. There is the -Jam-pot, who is the nurse; Hamlet, the stray dog; Uncle -Samuel, who paints pictures and is altogether -"queer"; of course, Mr. and Mrs. Cole, and Aunt Amy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Walpole has given his narrative a rare -double appeal, for it not only recreates for the adult -the illusion of his own happiest youth, but it -unfolds for the child-reader a genuine and moving -experience with real people and pleasant things. -No child will fail to love the birthday in the Cole -household, the joyous departure for the sea and the -country in the long vacation.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"A story of the most human elements, tender, -witty, penetrating in a breath. It is the study of -one year in a boy's life.... Mr. Walpole goes -straight to the heart of the child for his inspiration, -and never strays outside the narrow limits of a -child's experience. It is 'the real thing,' -wonderfully remembered, and most sympathetically and -unaffectedly recorded."--</span><em class="italics">Daily Telegraph</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">THE DARK FOREST</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Out of Russia, where Hugh Walpole had been -serving with the Russian Red Cross, came -this strange, wonderful, exotic book, containing an -inexplicable treasure of beauty,--the glamour of -the Russian forest, the scent of blossoming orchards, -the wistful heroism of young Russian soldiers. </span><em class="italics">The -Dark Forest</em><span> would be an astonishing performance -if only in this--that Walpole has conceived and -written a </span><em class="italics">Russian novel in English</em><span>. But there are -scenes that are the most vividly realized moments -of which Walpole has ever written. Scenes which -the </span><em class="italics">Westminster Gazette</em><span> calls "the equal of the -most dramatic passages in English fiction." Mystical, -poetical, spiritual, the theme of </span><em class="italics">The Dark -Forest</em><span> is the triumph of the soul over death. One -may read in it an allegory of the soul of Russia.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"To say that this book is remarkable is only to -lay hold on a convenient word as expressive of at -least a part of the sensation the story produces. -Here is a book for which many of us have dimly -waited; a book that transcends the outer facts and -reveals the inner significance of war. </span><em class="italics">The Dark -Forest</em><span> is a love story of unusual beauty, as well -as a story of war. Who, having read it, will -forget this book; at once awful and beautiful? It -must be read, for neither quotation nor description -is capable of giving more than a bare hint of the -nobleness, the intensity of this work of art so deeply -rooted in reality."--</span><em class="italics">New York Times</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of all the novels that have come out of -European battlefields there is probably none of such -scope, such penetrating analysis and such completely -spiritual quality as Hugh Walpole's </span><em class="italics">Dark Forest</em><span>. -It is many novels in one.... It is instinct with -the sense of spiritual adventure. It is young, finely -emotional, stamped with the consciousness of beauty -and infinity, of heroism and horror, love of life and -the vision of death."--</span><em class="italics">Eleanore Kellogg, in The -Chicago Evening Post</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At last there issues a novel with qualities of -greatness and the promise of endurance. Hugh -Walpole's </span><em class="italics">Dark Forest</em><span> should, indeed, as a work -of literary art, easily survive the terror and the -turmoil."--</span><em class="italics">New York World</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dostoievsky compressed within a few pages. A -remarkable book indeed--beyond doubt the most -notable novel inspired by the war."--</span><em class="italics">New York -Tribune</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">The Dark Forest</em><span> is the first fine story product of -a high order of creative art we have had from the -European war."--</span><em class="italics">Boston Herald</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The very spirit of Russia is here. This is -unusual. Walpole appears to have become gifted in -a few months with the true Russian literary method. -Its magic is his."--</span><em class="italics">Boston Transcript</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a story of sustained power; tragic import -and impress, and careless disregard of western -conventions. The rapt mysticism and unselfish -devotion of the heroine; the downright, uncompromising -materialism of her Russian lovers; the -pathetic appeal of Trenchard's loyalty, and the -situation finally developed by the heroine's untimely -taking off--these, in connection with the continually -recurring episodes of grim war, afford large -opportunity for originality of treatment and -characteristic, forceful dramatism."--</span><em class="italics">Philadelphia North -American</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Such a novel needed the war for its background. -It needed the war for its origin. It could only -have been planned on the battle line. It could be -written for and appreciated by only such an -audience as has been prepared by the melancholy of -catastrophe. War's blood is in it, war's nerves and -sinews. It is the very soul, upheaved, bereft, of -war. It is the one great romance that has come -from a world of armies."--</span><em class="italics">New York Evening Sun</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">The Dark Forest</em><span> is a novel of extraordinary -beauty and power.... It is a work of art, -unqualifiedly a great book."--</span><em class="italics">Review of Reviews</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hugh Walpole's </span><em class="italics">The Dark Forest</em><span> is the best -story yet written about the war that we have -read."--</span><em class="italics">New York Globe</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">THE GREEN MIRROR</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The title of </span><em class="italics">The Green Mirror</em><span> is symbolic. -In the drawing-room of the London house of -the Trenchards, not far from Westminster Abbey, -it represented the past and the present of a great -and typical English family.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Above the wide stone fireplace was a large old -gold mirror, a mirror that took into its expanse the -whole of the room, so that, standing before it, with -your back to the door, you could see everything that -happened behind you. The mirror was old, and -gave to the view that it embraced some comfortable -touch, so that everything within it was soft and -still and at rest." Henry Trenchard, gazing into -it, saw "the reflection of the room, the green walls, -the green carpet, the old faded green place, like -moss covering dead ground. Soft, dark, damp.... -The people, his family, his many, many -relations, his world, he thought, were all inside the -mirror--all imbedded in that green, soft, silent -inclosure. He saw, stretching from one end of -England to the other, in all provincial towns, in neat -little houses with neat little gardens, in cathedral -cities with their sequestered closes, in villages with -the deep green lanes leading up to the rectory -gardens, in old country places by the sea, all these people -happily, peacefully sunk up to their very necks in -the green moss.... His own family passed -before him. His grandfather, his great-aunt Sarah, -his mother and his father, Aunt Aggie and Aunt -Betty, Uncle Tim, Millicent, Katherine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Katherine embodied the spirit of revolt from the -tyranny of family. When Philip Mark, a young -Englishman, who has spent the greater part of his -life in Russia, and whose experiences have made -him more Russian than English, comes wooing in -tempestuous fashion, she throws off the yoke of her -family and chooses for herself. It is when the ties -of family are about to be shattered that Henry -Trenchard, in a fit of passion, flings a book at -Mark, the invader, who has shaken Katherine's -faith in the family, and, instead of hitting Mark, -demolishes the mirror. "There was a tinkle of -falling glass, and instantly the whole room seemed to -tumble into pieces, the old walls, the old prints and -water colors, the green carpet, the solemn bookcases, -the large armchairs--and with the room the house, -Westminster, Garth, Glebeshire, Trenchard and -Trenchard traditions--all represented now by -splinters and fragments of glass."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"</span><em class="italics">The Green Mirror</em><span>, the second in the series of -the </span><em class="italics">Rising City</em><span> series, which was opened by </span><em class="italics">The -Duchess of Wrexe</em><span>, is not only quite individual in -style but the story is told with a most vivid sense -of that which the realists are supposed to lack--form. -But there is no sacrifice of truth to it. The -psychology of the characters rings true. The -reaction of an unimaginative, sober, righteous family -to a prospective son-in-law has seldom been better -done. The story will add to Mr. Walpole's -reputation and will not at all suffer from the fact that -it was written before the war, as his overmodest -preface might indicate that he fears."--</span><em class="italics">Chicago -Evening Post</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Henry James once said of the author that he -was 'saturated' with youth, and in this story -Walpole idealizes the triumph of the youth of the new -generation that breaks the cords that bind it to the -old and starts out for itself--a careful, coherent and -brilliant study."--</span><em class="italics">St. Louis Globe-Democrat</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is a splendid study, the love story is charming -and altogether the book is an exceptionally good -piece of work."--</span><em class="italics">The New York Tribune</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In </span><em class="italics">The Green Mirror</em><span> Hugh Walpole shows his -masterly skill in building up a really dramatic novel -out of plot material that is almost without action. -His crises are always crises of feeling and no one -equals Mr. Walpole in his analysis of the feeling -of his characters and his exposition of their motives, -development and change."--</span><em class="italics">Cincinnati Enquirer</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">The Green Mirror</em><span> will serve further to intensify -the belief that Mr. Walpole is one of the great -novelists of the time. The reviewer does not -hesitate to proclaim the conviction that he will be the -greatest novelist of his generation who uses English -as the medium of his expression."--</span><em class="italics">Providence -Journal</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Walpole has written a most unusual story -and has handled it in an exceedingly capable -manner. His plot is so out of the ordinary and is so -well worked out that </span><em class="italics">The Green Mirror</em><span> may well -be classed as an exceptional novel and as such is -likely to rank high among the fiction of the present -years."--</span><em class="italics">Brooklyn Daily Eagle</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As a picture of contemporary life, the novel -contains some elements that are as fundamental as -those which make Dickens characters of old -London real flesh and blood to readers of today. As a -study in motives animating society the book is -worthy the best traditions of English literature. -</span><em class="italics">The Green Mirror</em><span> is a distinct contribution to -literature."--</span><em class="italics">Detroit News Tribune</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">The Green Mirror</em><span> has not one touch of aniline -in all its warm colors, rich presences and faithful -portraiture. It is a fine novel, grappling bravely -with the great ironies of mother-love."--</span><em class="italics">New Republic</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the development and disclosure of the -essential and incidental scenes of the domestic -embroilment following upon disclosure of the central -situation Walpole vindicates his title to the primacy in -the ranks of British fictionists who have undertaken -to represent imaginatively the source, spirit and -outcome of insularity translated in terms of selfishness -and family pride. It is life transcribed as -inexorable and fatalistic as </span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Duchess of -Wrexe</em><span>."--</span><em class="italics">Philadelphia North American</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">FORTITUDE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The novel which first introduced Walpole to -America was </span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span>, that most beautiful, -most strong story of a man's fight against heredity -and circumstance for mastery over himself. The -theme of the book lies in a saying of the Cornish -fisherman, old Frosted Moses: "'Tisn't life that -matters, but the courage you bring to it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Peter Westcott, son of the black and sullen -generations of Scaw House, heard Frosted Moses say -that, as he, a tiny little boy, crouched in a chimney -corner at the old inn and heard the sages talk of -ancient Cornish legends, and of the glory of the -great world without. So did he imbibe a spirit of -adventure which he never lost.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He left Scaw House and his gloomy father, -fought his way through school, through the welter -of a London boarding-house, through poverty and -failure to success as a novelist. But his struggle -and his success were not the poor desire for petty -fame which many conventional heroes of fiction -regard as struggle. What he desired in life was -fortitude, not headlines; the power to face failure as -well as the ability to become known. The spirit -of adventure, humanity, these ever stirred him, and -he lost neither in becoming a victor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of the woman who loved Peter and the woman -whom Peter loved, Walpole makes a magnificent -love story. There were many hours of dramatic -misunderstanding in the passion that sprang up -between the solid, broad-shouldered Peter, with his -quiet desire to write and be friendly toward all -sorts of people, and Clare, the slender, nervous, gay, -red-haired girl who had always been protected. But -there was a great and beautiful wonder of passion -as well; and the happiness of the little London -house to which they returned from the honeymoon -is not to be forgotten.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And throughout there are very many people who -are not to be forgotten--Stephen, the Cornishman, -huge and bearded and bewildered and inarticulate, -loving the youngster Peter and the girl he could -not have, tramping the hard white roads of -England, an outcast for love; Zanti, the "foreigner," -always a-quiver with babbling excitement over some -new adventure on whose trail he was following; -quiet Norah, untidy and pale, yet burning with a -love which gave back his fortitude to Peter when -it seemed lost; Cardillac, the elegant; Galleon, the -great novelist; the kiddies who adored big Peter; -Peter's own son, whom he so terribly loved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is a marvellous gallery, and more marvellous, -even, is the gallery of scenes, not painted in long -and laborious descriptions, but in quick snatches, -which show the fact that Walpole watches sky and -wind and tree as does no other novelist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Do you not come from the heart of dusty -country back to the sea again as you read this? If you -do not, then you do not love the sea, whose very -breath is here in this description from </span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span>:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They were at the top of the hill now. The sea -broke upon them with an instant menacing roar. -Between them and this violence there was now only -moorland, rough with gorse bushes, uneven with -little pits of sand, scented with sea pinks, with stony -tracks here and there where the moonlight touched it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Put this with the first lines in </span><em class="italics">Maradick at Forty</em><span> -and you have a whole seaside holiday:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The gray twilight gives to the long, pale -stretches of sand the sense of something strangely -unreal. As far as the eye can reach, it curves out -into the mist, the last vanishing garments of some -fleeing ghost. The sea comes smoothly, quite -silently, over the breast of it; there is a trembling -whisper as it catches the highest stretch of sand and -drags it for a moment down the slope; then, with a -little sigh, creeps back again a defeated lover."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Or, if you will have the soul of the gay city, here -it is in a quotation from </span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span>:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The street stirred with the pattering of dogs -out for an airing. The light slid down the -sky--voices rang in the clear air softly as though the -dying day besought them to be tender. The -colours of the shops, of the green trees, of slim and -beautifully dressed houses, were powdered with -gold-dust; the church in Sloane Square began to -ring its bells."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it is not so much beautiful imagery, not so -much interesting people, that distinguish </span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span> -and make it a great-hearted book, as the courage for -life, the demand for fortitude.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span> is a book in which the writer has put -much passionate intensity of thought and conviction. -It has no faults of insincerity, weakness, nor -poverty of mind or heart. It is fascinating. It is -the expression of a born writer. One reads it all. -There is humor, there is generosity; as of some big -man overflowing with ideas. There is a noble spirit -in the book that blows fresh upon one, like a wind -from the sea. The wind may have blown through -desperate places and seen bitter things, but it is -clean and bracing, and one is glad of it."--</span><em class="italics">Hildegarde -Hawthorne In The New York Times</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span> is a story that one will like to linger -over after it is read. It is reminiscent of Thackeray -at his best, mellowed with the charity of -well-proportioned truth."--</span><em class="italics">New York American</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span> is impressive. Its revelations of life -strike deeply into those springs of youth from which -are filled the wells of manhood."--</span><em class="italics">The New York -World</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This novel is a genuine performance. All is -worked out in the finest detail, like the careful -etching of a great, stone-made cathedral."--</span><em class="italics">The -Chicago Evening Post</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hugh Walpole is a literary force to be reckoned -with. He knows life; he is not afraid to -depict it. He can be sympathetic without being -sentimental. He is afraid neither of pleasure nor -pain--nor of seeming to fear the conventionalities. He -has the true idea of romance. He knows that the -enchanted land of adventure may be found in a -London boarding house as surely as on stormy seas -or in deep hidden gold mines. He knows that -man's fiercest battles seldom are fought to the -accompaniment of cannon. He knows that loneliness -is one of the hardest, one of the most universal of -humanity's tests and sorrows. </span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span> is a book -to read more than once, to ponder. Instinct with -life and vigor, lovers of sentiment, fighting, -psychology, romance, realism, each will find it worth -while."--</span><em class="italics">The Chicago Record-Herald</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span> is a book of splendid strength and -significance. It is done with much care for -workmanship and with a large understanding of the meaning -of life, so proving doubly worth while.... -Throughout the book is marked by a penetrating -knowledge of humanity, so that it brings one -continually into touch with real people and real human -crises."--</span><em class="italics">The Continent</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Hugh Walpole has the faculty of infusing -vibrant life into his characters in fiction, and in -</span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span> he presents one of the strongest and best -novels of the season."--</span><em class="italics">The Baltimore Sun</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The people here are as real as life. The theme -is big. The movement is controlled and steady, a -leisurely movement, as stories that deal with -character rather than action must be. The sketches of -London, in their whimsically personal note, make -one think of Dickens in the same field. The whole -is big in every sense. One of the two or three or -maybe four novels of the year that will live to -celebrate even a single birthday."--</span><em class="italics">The Washington -Evening Star</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is not a dull page in the book. Its people -are real flesh and blood beings, with courage, with -love and with humor in their souls. All of them -are interesting, while the circumstances which -surround them in </span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span> increase the delight of the -many readers the book is certain to achieve."--</span><em class="italics">The -Boston Globe</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The book is full of thought. Mr. Walpole has -written a chapter of life, pure and simple. The -reader cannot skip one page."--</span><em class="italics">The Philadelphia -Public Ledger</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fortitude is a great book. It marks the arrival -of Hugh Walpole as a novelist to be reckoned with. -We will await further performance with an -anticipation like that with which we look forward to -a new Five Towns tale by Bennett."--</span><em class="italics">Norma -Bright Carson in Book News Monthly</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One of the remarkable novels of the year. This -is a great book."--</span><em class="italics">The San Francisco Chronicle</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This book of humor, romance, and realism is a -pæan of youth and strength and love, a valiant and -bracing sermon."--</span><em class="italics">The Nashville Tennessean</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">THE DUCHESS OF WREXE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Walpole's constantly increasing perception -of the breadth and dignity of the world has -given to </span><em class="italics">The Duchess of Wrexe: A Romantic -Commentary</em><span> a spaciousness, a universality which make -it apply to the big problems of today wherever -found--yet his ceaseless interest in human nature -keep it a pleasant tale to read, with a surge of -power.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is the story of the second generation's struggle -for freedom, for the right to think and grow and -love and form social circles as it wills, against the -tradition which commends them to do as tradition -wills. It is the struggle which is identical all over -the world, whether in London or San Francisco, -Paris or Peking. It is the struggle which expresses -itself in feminism, in changing art, in growing -rationalism of manner and speech and thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Duchess of Wrexe is the autocrat of the -autocrats; the modern cavalier; old, shriveled, feeble -of body, but keen of eye as ever, with her cynical -wit and sophisticated manner unchanged, who until -she is dead will never give up her fight to keep the -race of cavaliers ruling the nation, to keep the -despised race of ordinary people (especially the -</span><em class="italics">nouveau riche</em><span>) in their places. From her darkened -rooms, where she sits in a great chair with grim -china dragons on either side, she plots against the -spread of democracy shrewdly, ruthlessly, ceaselessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The spirit of the times is proving toe much for -the Duchess. But she fights on. However glad -the reader may be of the defeat of all the tyranny -for which the Duchess stands, he cannot but be -touched by her plucky fight and the grim persistence -of her cynical wit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It may be mentioned that Walpole does not, like -many writers, draw on imagination entirely for his -pictures of aristocracy and smart society. Essential -democrat though he is, Hugh Walpole is the cousin -of the Earl of Orford, the son of a bishop, and a -descendant of the famous prime minister, Sir Robert -Walpole.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"</span><em class="italics">The Duchess of Wrexe</em><span> is a wonderful piece of -creative character study. There is a maturity, a -sureness of touch in the book that marks the man -who knows just what he can do with his medium -and does it enthusiastically and well."--</span><em class="italics">Book News -Monthly</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A definite and notable addition to English -letters is made when a new novel by Hugh Walpole -is published. His latest book, </span><em class="italics">The Duchess of -Wrexe</em><span>, deals on large elemental lines with the -restless, changing spirit of the time. To the strange -medley of modern life the novelist's powers of -invention, description and characterization are highly -addressed. His spirited and finished portrayal of -one phase of the changing social order exemplifies -finely and naturally the picturesque realism of -new-century romance."--</span><em class="italics">Philadelphia North American</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">The Duchess of Wrexe</em><span> stimulates thought and -encourages reflection. It contains a multitude of -ideas and it also allows the reader to think for -himself. It is energetic and vigorous without being -truculent; it sets forth social conditions without -being polemic. It is genuinely a story, and it is at -the same time a suggestive commentary on life. </span><em class="italics">On -every page it dignifies the art of the novelist</em><span>.... -With all his subtlety, with all his restraint, with -all his ingenuity in making it a social study, -Mr. Walpole has not made </span><em class="italics">The Duchess of Wrexe</em><span> any -the less effective as a story. It is a novel that -entertains, that charms. On a single page of it will -be found more about mankind and life than is -discoverable in the entirety of many another novel.... -He has lavished upon it ideas, situations, -events and characters sufficient for the lifework of -numerous other novelists."--</span><em class="italics">Boston Transcript</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Those who take Mr. Walpole's work as a plain -story will find it of compelling interest. Those -who read its message complete will be impressed -by the sense of a great theme thoughtfully and -powerfully presented. There is no flattery in the -statement that this book is </span><em class="italics">one of the really great pieces -of modern fiction</em><span>."--</span><em class="italics">New York World</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All the grim, unyielding pride of race of -England's old autocracy is made incarnate in the -personality of one aged woman, the ever-dominating -title-character in this admirable study of changing -social orders. It is a heroic picture that the author -paints of this grim old head of the house of -Beaminster. She stands out supreme amid the pages, one -of the most notable figures put into a book in a -long time."--</span><em class="italics">Philadelphia Press</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Walpole has strengthened his claim to position -by proving that he is not a man of one book, for -</span><em class="italics">The Duchess of Wrexe</em><span> is without doubt one of the -big novels of the year. It is a novel of extreme -significance."--</span><em class="italics">Samuel Abbott in The Boston Post</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">THE GOLDEN SCARECROW</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"If you love enough we are with you everywhere--forever"--that -is the word of the little children -that stupid people call "dead." Always here, -playing in the room they loved. Such is the end -of </span><em class="italics">The Golden Scarecrow</em><span>, the most original book -by the author of </span><em class="italics">Fortitude</em><span>. It is the story of a -dozen children living about a spacious old square, -a square filled with leisure and the sound of leaves, -in the heart of London. The son of a duke is one, -and one the forlornly playing child of a housekeeper -who drank and was untidy, but their lives were all -bound together by the Friend--who is the Friend -of Stevenson's child-verses--who in dangerous or -unhappy moments comes to children and with his -great warm arm guides them.... There is a -wonderful fancifulness in </span><em class="italics">The Golden Scarecrow</em><span>, -a mellow and gentle beauty; and a really remarkable -ability to enter into the children's own world, -where carpets are vast moors, and the fire whispers -secrets, and the lashing out of a whip of wind -suggests things vast and secret and perilous. Mr. Walpole -has "loved enough"; has so loved children and -the little land of the imagination that he has put -into this book the quality which can never be quite -plumbed--tenderness. And it is not the awkward -tenderness of the person not born to write; but -graceful and perfect and winning as a Greek vase.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"The fact that childhood is not a mere prelude -to adult life but worth while for its own sake has -seldom been more beautifully expressed."--</span><em class="italics">Chicago -Evening Post</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Few adults preserve their line of communication -with that world of fancy so real to children. -But when one of rare fancy visualizes it a chord of -kinship is struck; memory rolls back the years, and -the heart responds. Barrie did it in </span><em class="italics">The Little -White Bird</em><span>. Hugh Walpole joins him with </span><em class="italics">The -Golden Scarecrow</em><span>."--</span><em class="italics">Boston Herald</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only those readers of Mr. Walpole's novels -who have missed any real sense of them will be -surprised by this singularly attractive series of -sketches. There is an infinite pathos and a quite -exquisite charm in the first sketch, the one which -suggests the spirit of them all.... It cannot be -too strongly insisted upon that in these child-studies -there is not a whiff of the pseudo-sentiment about -childhood which in some writings has reached the -nauseating point. Mr. Walpole simply has the very -rare gift of actually getting the child's point of -view, and we always feel that he really understands -what he is talking about."--</span><em class="italics">Providence Journal</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In one sense it bears kinship to Barrie's </span><em class="italics">Peter -Pan</em><span> and Maeterlink's </span><em class="italics">Blue Bird</em><span>, for although it -is unlike either of these fairy tales in material and -treatment, it is related to them in that it recreates -for older readers the magical world of the -imagination that plays so large a part in the lives of -little folk. Mr. Walpole writes with charm and -tenderness."--</span><em class="italics">Philadelphia Press</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is as beautiful as it is unusual--a wonderfully -sympathetic and illuminating study of the mind of -the child done with an understanding and sympathy -so complete that it is uncanny."--</span><em class="italics">New York Evening Mail</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">THE WOODEN HORSE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>With hesitation one approaches the first novel -of an author whose growth has been so steady -as that of Walpole. It is therefore a double -delight to find </span><em class="italics">The Wooden Horse</em><span> a thoroughly good -story. Indeed, it has in it certain qualities which -should, as Walpole's work becomes more and more -known in mass, be one of his most popular. For it -is filled with the youth's first joy of expression; its -excitement about life and its yearning for strange -new roads.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">The Wooden Horse</em><span> is the story of the Trojans, -a family which accepted as tranquilly as did the -Duchess of Wrexe the belief that they were the -people for whom the world was created. But when -Harry Trojan came home after twenty years in -New Zealand, with the democracy learned by -working his hands, he was the "wooden horse" who -boldly carried into the Trojan walls a whole army -of alien ideals, which made of that egotistic family -a group of human beings content to be human.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Interesting are his struggles against stubborn -prejudice; dreamlike the pictures of the old Trojan -house, rising from the edge of the gray Cornish cliff -like an older cliff, yet surrounded by fragrant rose -gardens; but what most distinguishes </span><em class="italics">The Wooden -Horse</em><span> is its passionate adoration of the sea, the -cliffs, the weather-worn old Cornish houses, where -bearded men tell of haunted moors and the winds -of the deep.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Reading this story after reading his later ones -will not prove the disappointment that such a -procedure usually is. Here are no signs of faults -outgrown, no weaknesses that will hurt the lover of -Walpole's later works--by which statement we do -not wish to be taken as denying that he has -developed. Mr. Walpole is a realist with a wide angle -vision to whom not only the littered and close -ways of short-sighted and selfish men are real, but -to whom the large species of nature and her -healing quiet are just as real. He sees life steadily -and sees it whole--yet keeps his temper and his -hopes."--Llwellyn Jones in </span><em class="italics">The Chicago Evening Post</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nowhere has Walpole shown a greater grip upon -life's realities, a stronger appreciation of the -elusiveness of man-made conventionalities and a better -artistic sense of the dramatic value of contrasts. -In describing the subtle changes brought about in -the family circle by the presence of one outside -influence, Walpole has displayed much skill and -literary power. There are no long disquisitions, no -democratic preachments, but his dramatic personæ, -when brought face to face with new situations, are -moved to action according to their light. This is -one of the very best novels from the pen of -Mr. Walpole, and that is saying much."--</span><em class="italics">Philadelphia -Public Ledger</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A most notable piece of artistry. In Harry -Trojan, the 'unrepentant prodigal,' Mr. Walpole -has given us a splendid vigorous personality whose -acquaintance is a delight to readers wearied by -heroes of the type of Harry's semidecadent son. The -picture of the Trojan family is one which for -vividness could scarcely be surpassed. And, indeed, -Mr. Walpole has scarcely written anything more -excellent than the account of the dying of Sir -Jeremy Trojan--'I am going, but I don't regret -anything--your sins are experience--and the greatest -sin of all is not having any.' That, in a sense, is -the motto of the book. </span><em class="italics">The Wooden Horse</em><span> is -one of the few novels which not only may be read, -but must be read by the discriminating -reader."--</span><em class="italics">Providence Journal</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If one wishes to read a good story without being -preached at, he can do no better than read </span><em class="italics">The -Wooden Horse</em><span>. The story catches the atmosphere -of the Cornish coast, and you have the feel of the -salt spray in your nostrils as you read."--</span><em class="italics">Indianapolis News</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As delicate a piece of work as any modern novelist -has attempted and superlatively well done."--</span><em class="italics">Lexington -Kentucky Herald</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">THE GODS AND MR. PERRIN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Hugh Walpole spent some time as a -master at an English provincial school, and -consequently he has been able to put into </span><em class="italics">The Gods -and Mr. Perrin</em><span> quite all the atmosphere of a school -where the system, the confinement, the routine of -petty tasks get on everyone's nerves and turn a -group of human beings into strange hybrids that -are at once machines and animals with raw nerves -sticking out all over them. Whoever has--whether -in the confinement of a school or an unhappy office -or a jarring household--been smothered by the -atmosphere of some set of human beings, will find -himself in this book, and rejoice with Perrin's fight -to break free.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">The Gods and Mr. Perrin</em><span> finds Mr. Perrin -coming back to the workhouse-like school for boys at -the beginning of term-time, determined to be kind -this year. But the drudgery, the smell of cold -mutton and chalk, the endless succession of frightened -boys, the smug ironies of the reverend head-master, -get on his nerves, and then the Cat of Cruelty -begins to whisper at his ear and suggest that it would -be pleasant to twist one boy's ear and cuff another.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He bursts out, at last, gloriously, and at a solemn -gathering of the school for the awarding of prizes, -tells what he really thinks of the hypocritical -headmaster and the drab futility of the whole school. -Uncompromisingly, unflinchingly, Walpole has -painted that school as it is. His picture should be -enough to make any head-master who still believes -in education by repression go off and commit -suicide. It should be enough to make any man who -is yearly growing more choked, more afraid of life, -more smothered in a stuffy environment, rebel and -fight his way out of that kingdom of dullness, cost -what it may.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But because of that very spirit of revolt, </span><em class="italics">The -Gods and Mr. Perrin</em><span> is not a drably disagreeable -novel which will frighten off soft-minded readers.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Marked by technical excellence, insight, -imagination, and beauty--Walpole at his best."--</span><em class="italics">San -Francisco Bulletin</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The psychological crisis in the life of a -schoolmaster, uncouth, unhappy and unloved, is keenly -analyzed by the hand of a master. The hysteria -that attacks the faculty of a boys' school at -examination time has never been so well described as in -the moving chronicle of the 'Battle of the Umbrella' -which proves that Mr. Walpole has the crowning -gift of humor."--</span><em class="italics">The Independent</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">THE PRELUDE TO ADVENTURE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>So excellent is the versatility of Hugh Walpole -that this writer of dignified and realistic and -always beautiful pictures of life has among his books -one with all the tension and strange plot of a Poe -masterpiece--</span><em class="italics">The Prelude to Adventure</em><span>. It starts -with a murder. Dune the silent, the cleverest yet -laziest and most snobbish man in his class at -Cambridge, has struck down a red-faced, silly, ignoble, -beast of an undergraduate who has been boasting -of his conquest over a poor little shopgirl. He did -not mean to do murder, but there lay the man dead, -where the gray Druids' Wood dripped with rain -and gray twilight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He calmly went back to his rooms and kept silent. -What happened is so filled with suspense that, very -real and human though it is, the plot comes to have -all the unexpectedness of the cleverest detective -story. And Dune's vision of God, as a great gray -spirit standing gigantic there on the campus, -waiting, waiting, is a revelation in spiritual motives. -Dune's love story, too, is fascinating--and his victory.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suspense--color of life--love--fear--triumph--they -all mingle in an atmosphere as effective as -the Cornish sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A powerful novel of Cambridge life, or rather -the story of a Cambridge student with the -university sketched in with rapid and sure strokes as a -place through which Dune's tragic and lonely -figure moves. The sentiment is lofty and manly--Hugh -Walpole walks with a sure and firm tread -toward a definite goal."--</span><em class="italics">The Independent</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">MARADICK AT FORTY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The theme of </span><em class="italics">Maradick at Forty</em><span> again gets -into the life of every man and every woman; -a theme equally timely in 1000 B.C., 1000 A.D. and -10000 A.D.--the question of what is to be done -when a man wakes up to find himself getting -almost old, with life slipping from him to the next -generation. One may smile at the white slave -terror, and be quite selfish as regards educational -movements, but one cannot smile away the progress of -one's self from the forties into the fifties.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Maradick, strong, large, well-bred, a capable -stock broker, awakes at forty to find that life has -eluded him. He has married respectably--his fussy -little wife does not love him. His children are -dutiful--they are not admiring. His business is -safe--it is not absorbing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While spending the summer at the "Man at -Arms," that marvelous dark old inn with -unexpected bits of gardens and tower rooms rambling -over the Cornwall cliffs and fronting a vast sweep -of sea and sky, he meets with a young man to whom -life and poetry are real, to whom women and seas -are "bully! marvelous!" The youngster's youth stirs -Maradick to demand that he no longer be taken -for granted by wife and children and business--and -life! He plunges into a spiritual adventure which -is the Adventure of Everyman.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">THE NOVELS OF HUGH WALPOLE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="medium">THE SECRET CITY -<br />THE DARK FOREST -<br />JEREMY -<br />THE GOLDEN SCARECROW -<br />THE GREEN MIRROR -<br />THE DUCHESS OF WREXE -<br />FORTITUDE -<br />THE PRELUDE TO ADVENTURE -<br />MARADICK AT FORTY -<br />THE GODS AND MR. PERRIN -<br />THE WOODEN HORSE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="medium">GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY, </span><em class="italics medium">Publishers</em><span class="medium"> -<br />244 Madison Avenue NEW YORK</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>HUGH WALPOLE: AN APPRECIATION</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42383"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42383</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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