Miss Elizabeth Lazenby's Ireland, a Catspaw (Boswell Publishing Co., 7s.
6d.) is picturesque journalism, and has its value as recording first-hand impressions of the ceaseless interplay of political intrigue, marked occasionally by brutal and revolting murder, which pervaded Southern Ireland in the year 1922. The justification of the book's title lies in the author's suggestion that Bolshevism lurks behind the whole Irish Republican movement. There are dark hints of "the higher command," of " sinister " figures spinning plots in deserted lonely houses ; the author catches glimpses of " the sweep of a larger rhythm "—that is, of the Third International which is feverishly working to stamp out " the predatory system " in Great Britain first, and finally in the United States. All in the best Bulldog Drummond vein ; only the author would seek to persuade us that it is all true. There is in fact plenty in the book to make the most stolid flesh creep, but plenty more to interest in the many thumb-nail sketches it makes of picturesque Irish personalities. The author is an American, which is perhaps why she is unable to spell the names of her Irish heroes correctly.
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