Short Stories
The Furnival Books. No. 9, A Terrible Day. By David Garnett. No. 10, The Wild Swan. By Liam O'Flaherty. • - No. 11, Christmas Formula. By Stella Benson. No. 12, THE four Furnival Books listed above complete the series of twelve issued by Messrs. Joiner and Steele, who are to be congratulated on a most interesting and satisfactory enter- prise. Whatever may be said against the practice of issuing limited editions, there can be no doubt that the Furnival Books are among the best of the kind. Delightful in appear- ance, handy to hold, and beautifully printed, they are value for money not only as literature but as books : and this is a rare virtue. As literature, this year's batch are not perhaps as impressive as some of their predecessors, but one of them fights with Mr. Hanley's volume for first place in the series. This is Mr. Collier's Green Thoughts, in conception and execu- tion a really brilliant short story. Every technical difficulty is surmounted, and the end is as satisfying as it is ingenious. The writing is better controlled than in His Monkey Wife, with a generous eulogy of which Mr. Osbert Sitwell's intro- duction is principally occupied. The first of Miss Benson's three stories, Tchott, is very good indeed, but Christmas Formula invites comparison with Mr. Huxley, and it is unfortunate that the climax of A Dream is identical, almost- word for word, with the climax of a story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Mr. Geoffrey West writes a long and rather pompous introduction. Surely the audience at which the books are aimed can be trusted to have heard of Miss Benson and to know something about her. The Wild Swan is an excellent example of Mr. O'Flaherty's No. 1 manner (birds, beasts, and fishes). It shows, again and again, the amazing vividness of his imagination.
" They churned the brown water with their plunging feet, so that he little water fowl fled in terror, liko little black rocks skidding over the river to the distant banks."
It Was The Devil's Work is a good story in his No. 2 manner the simple peasants), and Unclean, a mediocre sample of his No. 8 (cities and slums). Mr. Gannett's story opens with that extraordinary circumstantial artfulness of which he is a master, and which would. prepare us for anything. Actually we get a midsummer story of embarTa'ssinent which we could have accepted without such skilled preamble. It is very good, but—. And what was the point of getting one of Mr. Gannett's juniors in the world of letters to write an introduction ? It is very nicely done, but a contemporary or a senior would, we feel, have carried greater weight. At any rate, Mr. Collier's story in itself would be ample justification for the whole series, "Mr. George BirminghaM " should be an excellent judge of the Irish short story, and, on the mellower, Handy-Andy side, he discharges his task with credit. The earlier stories are well chosen, and a good- many of the later. Mr. Edmund Downey's Retort Discourteous was an admirable choice : so was Lisheen Races—but why only one Somerville and Ross ? It is a pity that the editor has so limited himself. Mr. O'Flaherty needs at least three stories to exhibit the range of his genius. ' So, for that matter, does the editor, who need not be so anxious to disclaim the choice of his own, The Deputation. If it had not been ineluded, he simply would not have done his job. With the more serious of the newer writers lie is less happy. Mr. Corkery could be much better represented, and there are serious omissions. Where, for instance, is Mr. O'Donnell ? Where is Mr. O'Faolain ? And, unpardonable omission, where is Mr. Frank O'Connor ? It is only fair to add that otherwise the list is comprehensive, ranging from Mr. Yeats and Lord Dunsany to Samuel Lover and Mr. Lynn Doyle.
The anonymous editor of the Scottish selection has been wiser, giving us two stories each by Scott, Stevenson, Neil Munro, and Mr. Neil M. Gunn. Mr. Gunn comes off as well as anybody in the volume. How well he writes ! How perfectly his background is assimilated before a word is set down I Thrown Janet makes its effect as well as ever, and Mr. Linklater and Mr. George Blake bear themselves well in their distinguished company. Both these collections arc good, and the publishers arc to be congratulated upon an interesting venture.
Mr. O'Brien has been at his work since 1915, and his record is honourable. He has made at least three writers, and discovered many more. If he errs, it is on the side of enthusiasm : and time rectifies this sort of error more quickly than the other. The English volume contains many good stories, notably those of Miss Daphne Du Maurier, Mrs. Kathleen Coyle (very good indeed), and Mr. H. A. Manhood. Mr. Rhys Davies' Blodwen remains in the mind, though its conclusion is foregone from the first page. There is only one story which should not have been included, a weak effort by Lady Eleanor Smith, not nearly up to her best form. The American volume is far more experimental than the English, but on close examination it becomes apparent that most of the experimentation is formal only. When boiled down, many of these stories are revealed as the old goods in a new wrapper. Not all of them, however. The American short story is evidently in for a healthy period of development. Meanwhile, Miss Kay Boyle and Mr. Louis Bromfield very ably represent the older forms.
There is nothing much to say about Mr. Donn Byrne's short stories. " Glamorous " would appear to be the tradi- tional adjective, and it can hardly be bettered. At its best his writing is vivid and full of colour. At its worst, it is still full of colour, but not at all vivid. Altogether the effect is as of a coloured cinematograph film, with here and there a sensation sharply communicated and a voice detaching itself clearly from the crowd. Nor is there much to say, at this date, about Mr. Stephen McKenna. According to him, Pandora's box contained lipstick, powder, and compromising letters. He writes of the smart world:better thin, but not so skilfully as, Mr. Frankau : neither so well nor so skilfully-as Mr. Arlen : with more penetration than Mr. Alec Waugh : less virtuously than Sir Philip Gibbs, He is readable, 'adroit, lively : and he has his reward.
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