im Morden
rauen
34. Spiel
FUSIEW OF
FEBATURE
Doel.
VöGr à1927
Another group of foreign novels that
einbraces some of the authors most familiar
to American readers is composed of Arthur
Schnitzler’s Daybreak' (Simon & Schus¬
ter), Franz Werrer““ The-Man Who Con¬
quered Death“ (Simon & Schuster); Paul
Morand’s Nothing But the Earth' (Duf¬
field), Selma Lagerlöf’s fineCharlotte
Löwenskold' (Doubleday, Page), Vicente
Blasco Ibanez's“ The Mob* (Dutton), and
Stefan Zweig's“Conflicts' (Viking), a set
of ihree long short stories, two of which are
exceedingly powerful.
box 6/1
Everything begins from loneliness.
These utterances will suggest to people of sym¬
pathy what may be found on almost every page.
I for one am pleased with what I found.
Mr. Erskine's views on men and women may
not be too clear. Like the rest of mankind he
may have found plucking the heart out of his
mystery a task about which it was casy to be ironic,
and hard to be tender. But he has succeeded at
the hard task as well as at the easy one. There
is something Chärming in a writer who manages
to look at th. piece of work that is man witk an
intelligence and humor that lays no claim to om¬
niechnce.
(eta
□ KC
Character and Destinv
DAYBREAK. By Akrnon Scharrzen. Trans¬
lated from the German by William A. Drake.
New York: Simon & Schuster. 1027. 81.50.
Reviewed by ERNEsr SyrHEkLaNn Barks
NHE literary form half way between the
novel and the short story, called for lack
" of a better term the novelette, has led in
general a curiously unsuccessful life. Theoret¬
ically superior to either of its rivals, possessing the
unity and intensity of the short story—meeting Poe’s
requirement of being able to be read at a single sit¬
ting, —possessing also something of the mass and
momentum of the novel, and particularly adapted,
one would suppose, to the needs of a busy age, it has
nevertheless failed to become widely popular with
either authors or public. The average writer of
fiction scems unable to restrain his loquacity within
less than three hundred pages, while the public takes
its chort stories in the magazines and when it buys
a book wants to be sure that it has received a due
number of words for its money. The worship of
mere size is potent here as elsewhere.
Yet there have been a few writers who have
cherished the novelette according to its deserts—a
James Lane Allen, an Anatole France, a Turgeniev
a Henry James, an Eden Phillpotts, and others
whom one does not recall at the moment. Of all
who have tarried in this realm, however, Arthur
Schnitzler is easily the king. He manages to cre¬
ate a sense of spaciousness within its narrow bounds,
a full-orbed miniature world, while on the other
hand he permits no frayed-edged incident to rcach
out calling for a fuller treatment. If ever that
much abused word “perfection'' be allowable, this
is the place for it. The untransgressed limitations
of the form cease to be limitations.
Daybreak, now attractively presented in Eng¬
lish dress in the same series in which“Rhapsody,
None But the Brave,? and others have appeared,
had its genesis thirty-five years ago as an eight-page
short story. In the meantime both characters and
treatment have matured, enriched with Viennese
subtlety, until the chanciest “Good Morning' is
freighted with significance. It is a stery of gam¬
bling—for money, love, and reputation—pervaded
by a sense of lowering fate. The novice might sup¬
pose for the first few pages that he was resding
an artfully constructed denunciation of this vice—
the gambler’s experiences running so truc to form—.
but soon he would discover that in Schnitzier’s
world chance rules more than the gaming-table.
Character and destiny are inextricably interwoven in
the tale. From the opening words Lieutenant!
.Lieutenant!. .. Lieutenant!?' the hero,
rauen
34. Spiel
FUSIEW OF
FEBATURE
Doel.
VöGr à1927
Another group of foreign novels that
einbraces some of the authors most familiar
to American readers is composed of Arthur
Schnitzler’s Daybreak' (Simon & Schus¬
ter), Franz Werrer““ The-Man Who Con¬
quered Death“ (Simon & Schuster); Paul
Morand’s Nothing But the Earth' (Duf¬
field), Selma Lagerlöf’s fineCharlotte
Löwenskold' (Doubleday, Page), Vicente
Blasco Ibanez's“ The Mob* (Dutton), and
Stefan Zweig's“Conflicts' (Viking), a set
of ihree long short stories, two of which are
exceedingly powerful.
box 6/1
Everything begins from loneliness.
These utterances will suggest to people of sym¬
pathy what may be found on almost every page.
I for one am pleased with what I found.
Mr. Erskine's views on men and women may
not be too clear. Like the rest of mankind he
may have found plucking the heart out of his
mystery a task about which it was casy to be ironic,
and hard to be tender. But he has succeeded at
the hard task as well as at the easy one. There
is something Chärming in a writer who manages
to look at th. piece of work that is man witk an
intelligence and humor that lays no claim to om¬
niechnce.
(eta
□ KC
Character and Destinv
DAYBREAK. By Akrnon Scharrzen. Trans¬
lated from the German by William A. Drake.
New York: Simon & Schuster. 1027. 81.50.
Reviewed by ERNEsr SyrHEkLaNn Barks
NHE literary form half way between the
novel and the short story, called for lack
" of a better term the novelette, has led in
general a curiously unsuccessful life. Theoret¬
ically superior to either of its rivals, possessing the
unity and intensity of the short story—meeting Poe’s
requirement of being able to be read at a single sit¬
ting, —possessing also something of the mass and
momentum of the novel, and particularly adapted,
one would suppose, to the needs of a busy age, it has
nevertheless failed to become widely popular with
either authors or public. The average writer of
fiction scems unable to restrain his loquacity within
less than three hundred pages, while the public takes
its chort stories in the magazines and when it buys
a book wants to be sure that it has received a due
number of words for its money. The worship of
mere size is potent here as elsewhere.
Yet there have been a few writers who have
cherished the novelette according to its deserts—a
James Lane Allen, an Anatole France, a Turgeniev
a Henry James, an Eden Phillpotts, and others
whom one does not recall at the moment. Of all
who have tarried in this realm, however, Arthur
Schnitzler is easily the king. He manages to cre¬
ate a sense of spaciousness within its narrow bounds,
a full-orbed miniature world, while on the other
hand he permits no frayed-edged incident to rcach
out calling for a fuller treatment. If ever that
much abused word “perfection'' be allowable, this
is the place for it. The untransgressed limitations
of the form cease to be limitations.
Daybreak, now attractively presented in Eng¬
lish dress in the same series in which“Rhapsody,
None But the Brave,? and others have appeared,
had its genesis thirty-five years ago as an eight-page
short story. In the meantime both characters and
treatment have matured, enriched with Viennese
subtlety, until the chanciest “Good Morning' is
freighted with significance. It is a stery of gam¬
bling—for money, love, and reputation—pervaded
by a sense of lowering fate. The novice might sup¬
pose for the first few pages that he was resding
an artfully constructed denunciation of this vice—
the gambler’s experiences running so truc to form—.
but soon he would discover that in Schnitzier’s
world chance rules more than the gaming-table.
Character and destiny are inextricably interwoven in
the tale. From the opening words Lieutenant!
.Lieutenant!. .. Lieutenant!?' the hero,