THE DARK HOURS. By Don Marquis. (Cape. 5s. net.) ME.
DON MARQ via, one of the best-known " columnists " of the American Press, has set out to do a brave thing, but has not liad enough courage to carry it through. In The Dark Hours. he attempts a new dramatization of our Lord's Passion, but !las only succeeded in " picturing " it, after the manner of those super-film producers who endeavour to conjure dramatic effect out of 100 per cent. efficiency in stage-craft. You cannot interpret the last hours of the Gospel story, you cannot add, new lustre to the Divine Jewel, by concentrating on the setting. The singing of the solitary nightingale in Mr.'! Marquis's Garden of Gethsemane is artifice, not reality, and: leaves the heart empty. This is typical. The important things are all in the background. The Central Figure is inten- - tonally hidden throughout, the Voice alone being permitted access to our questioning wonder. Where is the actor who could make anything of that? Mr. Marquis has made the : mistake of writing a play about Jesus when his material was more suitable for a play, about. Judas, the complexity of whose character is most interestingly portrayed.
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