SUNDAY, JUNE 3, 1923 THEMICHI
arms; but the pack was so close that
FOLK-LORE OR they could not be held off and so
FABLE? Sylvia died in her husband's arms.
The story is related in whimsical
Istyle whch infers incredulity and
naive wonderment even on the part
LADY INTO FOX by David Garnett, of the author. It is a short evening's
Alfred A. Knopf. $1.50- entertainment to sandwich in be-
Reviewed by Robert Locke tween pieces of momentous import-
Most of us will attack David Gar- ance ,the authors of which have
nett's "Lady Into Fox", with the found that nothing sells quite as
-same aesthetic perversion as that well as stupendous considerations of
with which the King James Version- vital problems. "Idy Into Fox" pro-
ers attacked thie "Song of Solomon".vides brief but none the less wel-
Most of us will read some pathetic come relief.
symbolism into this story as these
learned churchmen read symbolism
into the love poem. We cannot be A
contet to leave it the whimsical folk [ agaZIn
tale that it is. We cannot believe
that the Lady actually turned into a By"N. B.
fox. Most of us will see no imore: Ring W. Lardner's is the most at-
metamorphosis in the Lady's case tractive name in THE BOOKMAN'S
than Robert Frost sees in the case of contents. His parody of Enoch
.the cow, who Arden is a masterly bit of nonsense
"Hving tasted fruit, and insufferable 'it and is only to ice
She scorns a pasture withering to the, exceeded in art by Tennyson's classic
root. itself. Mary Austin comes in for sec-
ond mention because of her equally
She bellows on a knell against the harrowing essay about "Sex In Amer
shy. sican Literature." Why she chose such
1er udder shrivels and the nllsgoes a tame subject, she only knows; but
dry," of this I am certain: she chose to
Thus, most of us will read a story treat of the srong side of the issue.
of a faithful dod blind cuckold and rShetchose to tell the truth, and es-
his society losing wife. Now, if I Yen knows nobody sants to read the
was sure that this is not what even truth. We all know the truth and
the author intended, I would imme- s-hat we sant to reas is soneting ex-
diately launch forth into a deluge of citing--witness the aiccess of ge
praise. If his intention was to write -
Rect and Spoon Rier etc. Roer
a modern tale after the manner ofCHesH lldaypools runtc. t8
folk lore he hsas triumphed admrab- Cortes dolliday foals aroand with
ly; but if he intended to write a fable some "Bon Mots Here and There."
in which a vixen personifles the' and the Literary Sotlight shines oh
faithless wife he has succeeded in Brander Matthews. Among the pep-
concocting a very obvious and medi- ple who are especially talked about
ore one. lsthis time are: Sholom Asch, Emerson,
,If it is at all possible, however, to Sarah Bernhardt, and Sackville-West.
read the book without drawing mor I suppose you ought to look on page
as and symbols from every advance 495 for the picture of Stuart P. Sher-
of the story, it proves both interest- man, too. And, by the way, if you
mug and refreshing. It tells of the missed Robert Frost's poem in the
instantaneous change of a lady, Mrs. New Republic, it is reprinted among
Tebrick, into a fox. The change took the Poems of the Month--"Stopping
place while she was at her husband's' By Woods on a Snowy Evening."
side and yet the exact manner of it A delicious variety of .material
was quite unknown to him. At first makes THE DOUBLE DEALER for
she showed many of the traits of a sMay better than it has been for a
lady and her husband hoped that the long while. In writing of the Bitter-
change would be but temporary. ness of Gorky, N. B. Fagin keenly
Slowly, however, her nature, too, as- observes that we do the Russians an
sumed the likeness of a beast. Fin- Injustice in viewing their art as des-
rally when spring came Mr. Tebrick jpondent and pessimistic. In fact, he
Sdiscoveredhis wife in an attempt to says, "No literature on earth is es-
escape from her garden. Several days sentially more optimistic than Rus-
of strained relations broke the man's, sian literature, and no writers, sure-
spirit to such an extent that he let ly in modern literature, are quiver-
her go free. But the poor man was ing with a more optimistic message
heart broken. He lived alone for a than the sad Russians." And he goes
good many months, always waiting: on: "The insipid optimism which pre-
and listening for a bark from his cludes search because everything 'that
wife. At last, one day, he saw her' s is good, is the rankest of pess-
She tools him to a fresh fox earthmism; it denies the principle of
where there were five fox cubs, her' growth, of the everlasting urge, of
cubs, le gained a good deal of decay and replacement, urgem01
pleasure from his hours with her new dec. and true p ient, of Tomor-
family and once he met their father. began to make history, have been the
When the hunts started in the fallbra, to essisorys havedaeenthe
his nervousness and anxiety for their ra, restless souls that dare to de
saftyalmstdrve imma. R fx-cry and to bles, to break and I
safety almost drove hlm. mad. e fixbuild, to hate and to love, to burl
ed special barricades at his gatesso ideals that have died and to live wil
that the' foxes-could get in but sod
that the horsemen would be kept out. ideals as yet to come. The Russiami
Eve'y tIme he heard. the bunt across writers are serious because they think
the fields he took his post at his gate, and thinkiog implies awareness of
gun in hand, to shoot the dogs that existence; it is this awareness of the
might follow his wife or her chil- existence we know which imparts to!
dren inside his gates. At last, one their books an intensity of thought
day, his wife was chased and he be-! and emotion which is contagious and
came so excited that ie ran forward 'heartening."
to protect her. She jumped into his There is considerable poetry in the
BEFORE DAWN Yes, there they come. Faintly I can
(Continued from Page Two) hear the far-off rumbling of the Red
retreating army takes with it even the cavalcade. How fast they ride. Al-
fires from the chimneys, when it aban- ready it is growing louder.
dons the town. Here they come. Here they come.
Listen. Hail, knights in red. Hail!
volume and as is usually the case with
this magazine, none of it is above the
ordinary. :But do not let this com.
ment keep you from reading "John
Doe and the Ghost of Solomon" by!
Benjamin Thom. This is a poem;
worth quoting-but space is short.
Instead, here is "Ironic Invitation"
by Richard Kirk: !
"There's thunder! I
Dead men awake.
-And patterig rai
Up, up, sound sleepe
(Continued on Pa
Loud enough to
urs. UerQ'a th4
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