Fiction
QUITE CONTRARY. By Paul Bloomfield. (The Bodley Head. 6s.)—We have here a pleasant little farce, written in so slyly grandiloquent a manner that at first we incline to take the author seriously, and to think, "Here is another of the young men who make a great pother about nothing ! " It is some little time before we realize that the author is enjoy- ing himself thoroughly at the expense of those intelligentsia who are themselves making much ado about everything. There are all manner of people in the book. There is a man who amuses himself by having all modern conveniences removed from his house because he prefers the good old times. There is a psychologist, a scientist, a parson and an ordinary young man and woman : and they all talk a very great deal. It would not be fair to the author to divulge his slender plot, but a quotation from the last page will give some idea of his economical humour :— " You start from a false hypothesis,' said Dr. Ranalow. 'Man is at bottom a Promethean lunatic not a Pythagorean rationalist with Epicurean leanings—and I wouldn't approve of science working to turn him into one.'
Man —' said the doctor.
' Man — ' said Mr. Dighton.
' Man —' said Mr. Vanbrugh.
James and Gabrielle had disappeared. They had quietly gone into the garden and then along the lane to Mr. Jake's cottage. It was still light high up in the western sky. James and Gabrielle sat down on a bench under a tree. They were very happy."
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