Fiction.
The Hall of Laughter
noST of the large fairs have their Halls of Laughter whose walls are hung with distorting mirrors in which the victims of merriment see themselves now broadened, now narrowed, now elongated and yet always brutally recognizable. There is something in the formation of each mirror which causes peculiar exaggerations in the reflections of those who face it. Every picture, whether of mirror, pen or canvas is to a certain extent a collaboration between portrayer and portrayed. Authors are, in a sense, mirrors, and those whose names appear above have in themselves some peculiar faculty of reflecting certain aspects of womanhood.
Mr, Arlen's mirror is a broadening one, and in it he tries to hold the images of the complex and the decorative, of Harriet; the point of whose nose "stretched tightly over two sm611, sharp delicious bones, would from time to time quiver with fragile etstacY, goading one into thinking "forbidden thoughts " ; and of Mary Sandal with the "clustering brown curls and small self-conscious feet." That is the worst of Mr. Arlen's women—they are all, especially the five heroines in his latest book of short stories, self and sex-conscious. They- never forget that- they--afe women, and as such the favoured of the earth, to whom, as natural right, should come lovers and cocktails, jewels and silks. Their reflector delights to emphasize their greediness. He hovers between cynicism an& chivalry as though uncertain which is the more correct quality.
Miss Ellen Glasgow is cynical, too, but more consistently so:than Mr. Arlen, and her mirror also reflects greediness—not for little loves and glittering "gadgets" but for life itself. The mouths of her heroines droop at the corners and their hands are outstretched to take and to hold. Her new and very brilliant book which is sub-titled "A Comedy of Morals" has for its text the lines :
"When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray. What charm can soothe her melancholy ? What art can wash her guilt away ? "
AR the American women in her book have been betrayed in one way or another, and each is trying to soothe herself. "Aunt Agatha," who fell in ail age when Victorians did nothing to break the fall of any young lady, seeks comfort in her old age from cinemas and ice-cream sodas. Mrs. Burden, whose husband deserted her because he could not stand her incessant virtue, and whose daughter has been betrayed by a neurotic waster, consoles herself by grim acts of duty. Milly Burden still claims credit at the bank of life, but finds none since her lover stole away her gilt-edged illusions, when he married her employer's self-righteous daughter. Miss Glasgow's mirror is a very clear one : it stands in the hard light of day and no shadows blur its tortured reflections. She has once again proved herself an able craftswoman : as usual her work is exquisite.
Miss Dodd's mirror is very much kinder : it reflects the sweetness and faithfulness and old-fashioned graces of her heroines. Apples and Quinces gives the life history of three women, who formed a "literary friendship" when they were children. They have their love and other affairs, and when they are old, they meet as they had arranged to do in childhood to review their life's work. The wisest of them then concludes that "Life is an excellent pye. Once we were as yonge greene apples, put into a pye with harsh quinces ; the tang of the quince, bitter to the palate, served to bring out and ilitensify the quality of the apples. Bitter and sweet,e, rough and smoothe. That is life." Apples and Quinces is pleasant enough, even if it is a little sugary and sentimental and even though the frame of Miss Dodd's mirror is so decorative that It over-shacloym the reflections.
There ornate about Mr. Masefield's mirror, whose
design is as simple as a shaving glass. In it we see first one and .then atiother slightly -exaggerated 'fox-minting face. The people reflected are old friends. We know tium by name and have met thou before in the author's pocm Reynard The Fox. Squire Harridew is here, very purple and furious, and with him his three daughters, Jane, "the grey gander," find her lovely sisters, Loue and Carrie. The story tells of Carrie's suitors, who are—with the exception of the parson's pre- cocious son, Nick, the barrister and a fanatical minister= hard-riding young men. Mr. Masefield has written a good brisk story, reeking of the stables and the countryside. His characters are a little over defined, particularly that of the villain, who makes an almost mediaeval attempt to seduce Carrie by trying to hide in her bedroom while the fondly are at lunch. It is a little difficult to understand the devastating attractiveness of Carrie, but the author does not really give her a fair chance. We do not see her reflected fairly and squarely in the mirror but only in the eyes of the young " hawbueks " who find her so desirable.
The images of six daughters are held in Mrs. Sidgwiek's mirror which is a good plain family looking-glass and has the faculty of contorting the servants and friends of the household to a most rcmarkable extent. The six girls are normal enough : they have their little idiosyncrasies but these are not unduly stressed. Their love affairs and matrimonial adven- tures are recorded very pleasantly, but it is impossible to believe in the exuberant servants or rude visitors, whose like was 'surely never seen Outside a "hall of laughter." • Six of Them is more a chronicle than a novel of family life. As one daughter is married, the small affairs of the others arc recorded in turn. Lovers of Little IF omen will rejoice to find another group of ,rather. .similar young people with whom they can
make friends. B. E. TODD. - MY BEST STORY. (Faber and Faber. 7s. Od.)-1'nfor-- tunately, so the publishers tell us, some of the distinguished, authors who have contributed to this collection have protested. against its title, so we do not know whether these stories are the ones which Mr. H. G. Wells, Mr. Arnold Bennett, Mr. Michael Arlen, &c., really consider their best. This robs the, book of some of its value, though it remains an opportunity. for comparing the powers of some of the best known writers of fiction of this century. But the comparison is singularly_ unilluminating, revealing rather differences of temperament than of philosophy or of interest. The reader is almost forced to conclude that there must be some unity of outlook about. this generation which he himself, being of it, cannot exactly analyse. The stories are—most of them quite shamelessly—. moral object-lessons. They are disguised in a coat of artifice; it is true, with which the conventional practitioners of the preaching art would be unable to clothe them ; but, after all, this is only the old-fashioned ideal of " combining instruction. and amusement." After reading this book, we shall never again accuse this generation of regarding serious things flip- pantly. It is, incidentally, a collection of very good storiesi worth anyone's while to possess,
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