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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 13, Issue 2 (May 2, 1938.)

Among the Books — A Literary Page or Two

page 49

Among the Books
A Literary Page or Two

I Have followed with interest a series of short articles in an Australian magazine giving the opinion of writers as to which are the twelve best Australian books. It would be interesting to apply the test to New Zealand literature. Bearing in mind that such a selection must be almost one hundred per cent. New Zealand, I would make the following choice: Samuel Butler's “Erewhon,” Guthrie Smith's “Tutira,” Eileen Duggan's Poems, Pember Reeves’ “Long White Cloud,” Elsdon Best's “The Maori,” Johannes Anderson's “Maori Life In Aotea,” Beagle-hole's “New Zealand, A Short History,” Cowan's “New Zealand Wars,” Buick's “Treaty of Waitangi,” Sat-chell's “Greenstone Door,” O. N. Gillespie's “Anthology of New Zealand Short Stories,” Quentin Pope's anthology, “Kowhai Gold.”

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The awards in “Art in New Zealand's” annual short story competition are announced in the latest issue of that publication. The first prize goes to Miss Marguerite W. Crook's entertaining story, “Christmas Number,” and two other stories by Una Craig and Eve Langley are highly commended. In making the awards the editor of the quarterly remarks that in quality and quantity the entries are disappointing. “Our authors do not exactly lack opportunities to prove their worth,” he adds. “Even if the local market is not all it might be—and it could be worse—there is scope across the Tasman for those with the requisite talent. There is “The Bulletin,” for example, which is on the look out for good short stories, for which it pays well. How many New Zealanders have recently found a way into ‘The Bulletin'? The answer leaves us with a feeling of melan-choly.”

There is featured in this latest issue of “Art in New Zealand” the art of Olivia Spencer Bower, two beautiful colour blocks and several in black and white being reproduced. The literary side is strong and includes an admirable essay by Stuart Perry on “Broadcasting as a Form of Artistic Expression.”

* * *

One of my readers wants to know which is the world's greatest news-paper. In sales and gross revenue I believe the honour rests with the London “Daily Express.” A recent audit disclosed a net sale of 2,389,532 sales per day. The Chicago “Tribune” is about next in the field.

* * *

A retired Wellington bookseller, Mr. H. W. McCarthy, was telling me recently that a long time ago he had the privilege of serving Mark Twain. He asked the famous author which of his books he considered the best. Mark Twain replied: “The one that brings me in the most money.”

* * *

There has been much protest lately over the manner in which the surface of Robert Louis Stevenson's tomb on Vaea Hill, Samoa, has been disfigured by tourists, many of whom have scarred the surface with their initials and names. We may now revise Stevenson's famous epitaph in fashion following:—

A bookplate designed by G. McAuslan, a young Dunedin artist now in Sydney.

A bookplate designed by G. McAuslan, a young Dunedin artist now in Sydney.

Under the wide and starry sky

Dig on my grave with bulging eye:
Carve on it deeply—eight inches high,
And flay my tomb as you will.
This be the worst, you grave o'er
me:
Here he lies—would he long to be,
Tortured by tourists from o'er the
sea,
A mere visitors’ book on the hill?

* * *

Years ago Tom Bracken's famous poem “Not Understood” was frequently heard in public by local and visiting elocutionists. It was a favourite item of Mel. B. Spurr's, and later of Blas-check's. The late Sir James Carroll did full justice to it in that fine rich dramatic voice of his. Probably no other poem originating from this land has achieved such world-wide celebrity. It was first printed, I think, in one of Bracken's early books of collected verse, “Lays of the Land of the Maori and Moa.” I have a copy of this book, an interesting feature of which is a printer's error which makes the last line of the poem read “Not Understood” instead of “And Understood.”

* * *

There is a grimly humorous story attached to this month's book plate. The present owner of the plate was about to go into hospital for a rather serious operation. The last letter he opened on the day before the operation contained some copies of this fearsome looking plate. One can imagine his concern, for the plate arrived unexpectedly. It was unasked—unsought. G. McAuslan, the artist, confessed later that he had designed it “just by way of a pleasant surprise”!

* * *

What is one to do in a case like this? Years ago I gave to a friend of mine a first edition of Conrad's “Victory.” A year or two later as he was short of funds he sold the same book to me, forgetting evidently that I gave it to him in the first place. Although I had not inscribed the book

page 50

page 51 I had no difficulty in recognising it as my original copy. Quite recently I heard that my friend was re-building his library. I re-gave the book to him, and to give it’ its true sentimental value I inscribed its history on the fly leaf. A few days ago I received an indignant letter from him stating that I had never given him the book in the first place—that he had bought it in Sydney for 10/-!

Reviews.

I had heard of a striking short novel entitled “Gentleman Overboard,” attracting praise from English reviewers. The opportunity of reading it came my way through a cheap Australian edition published by Angus & Robertson. The author, Herbert Clyde Lewis, has certainly written something vital and unusual. “When Henry Preston Standish fell headlong into the Pacific Ocean the sun was just rising on the eastern horizon”—this is the arresting opening sentence. Standish is an arch egoist, and decides that he really will not drown and that the ship will return to pick him up. Instead the vessel diminishes into a speck on the horizon and then into nothingness, and still Standish believes in his rescue. The author analyses the thoughts of those aboard, who are unaware of their fellow passenger's tragic plight and yet are wondering over his nonappearance on deck. We return to Standish and witness his thoughts and his actions as he waits in the watery waste for his rescue. We learn of his whole life as the boat journeys further and further from him. After several hours it is discovered that Standish has fallen overboard and the boat turns about. Once more we rejoin the waiting Standish. It is all so exciting and so terribly pathetic, and then comes that final amazing chapter.

* * *

“John,” by Irene Baird (Angus & Robertson, Sydney) is the most wholesome novel I have read this year. If you are tired of the cloying sweetness of sentimental novels, the sickening surplusage of sex stories, or the too exciting murder mystery, then take up this story of simple serenity, of indefinable charm, and it will be as refreshing as a drink from a snow fed mountain brook. John is one of three brothers who is not content to join in the family business that has endured for generations. He cares not to steep his soul in sordid commercialism and travels abroad to British Columbia to find perfect contentment on the land—his own farm. His peace of mind is threatened by the love of one whom he may not marry, but his character is equal to the occasion. Tragedy intrudes in another chapter, but once more his great spirit conquers, and so we come to the final chapter with the wonderful fall of the curtain. It is hard to describe this book, but my advice is brief and emphatic—read it.

* * *

“A Book of Famous Dogs,” by Albert Payson Terhune (Angus and Robertson, Sydney) is an Australian edition of a book by a famous American dog lover. Here he gives us a collection of remarkable stories of the great dogs of the ages. Few writers have been so wrapped up in their subject as Albert Terhune, and few readers will finish this book without wanting to possess a dog of their own, that is if they have not one already. Chapter one deals with dogs of ancient days. The Athenian dandy Alcibiades bobbed the tail of his famous dog so that he might escape ostracism. Alexander the Great erected a glittering temple to the memory of his pet dog. Then we are told of the dogs of kings, of authors, of ghost dogs and dogs of the stage. A few of the dog stories are as tall as fish stories, but all the same they stretch into interesting yarns. One or two might annoy people, particularly the supposed story of the dog that brought about the Reformation! Nevertheless, the book must go on the shelves of most dog lovers as one of the most interesting canine anthologies ever compiled.

* * *

Whitcombe & Tombs have issued a useful little booklet entitled “Camp Cooking.” The publication is sponsored by the Girl Guides’ Association, but the information will prove valuable to scouts, trampers, motor campers and everybody who loves to make a temporary home under Nature's ample roof.

* * *