Satan the Waster, by Vernon Lee (The Bodley Head, 5s.),
was published ten years ago and completely ignored by all the critics (except, of ,course, Mr. Bernard Shaw). It is not altogether surprising. The state of public feeling at that time would not have rendered it possible for such a savage and whole-hearted condemnation of war to succeed, and now when our spirits are more subdued, the book has perhaps rather missed its market as propaganda. We are, therefore, , forced to consider it for its dramatic and literary value, which is considerable. The conversation between Satan and Clio in Hell contains many good things, and much of both the Introduction and the notes to the Prologue, which form quite 'half the book, are closely reasoned and original. Unfor- ' tunately, it is inevitable that we should compare it, much to its own disadvantage, with The Dynasts, but it is, in fact, of real literary value as a preliminary sketch for the play which may be written when a hundred years or so have purged away the excessive emotion which now surrounds the whole subject of the late War. ,At present it has rather the flavour of a literary curiosity, but it is certainly, like many such curiosities, exceedingly good reading.
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