A Psychological Study.

Recently, I ordered a book called "A Journey Round My Skull", on the strength of its title, and the fact that its author was an Hungarian with the fascinating name of Karinthy - Friyges Karinthy.

This gentleman is apparently a household word in Hungary, where he is well-known as a humorist and author of many outstanding works, "but I had never heard of him. However, this 'book is', as good a way as any of becoming acquainted with Mr. Karinthy, because by about page 100 the reader has gone step by intimate step with him in what appears to be incipient madness. First, when he is placidly eating in a restaurant, he is startled by the noise of a train nearby, and it is only; after some time that he realises that the noise is in his own head After that, things go very fast. He is terrified by a mental experience, in which he loses touch with reality, and soon his motor mechanism fails, and he begins to lurch, vomit, and walk in circles. He knows he should see a doctor, but, being afraid, he rationalises and excuses himself, until his friends force him to the hospital.

Up to this point the book cannot be termed cheerful reading, but it is very interesting; for Mr. Karinthy turns out to be suffering from a tumour on the brain. He traces its growth and the effect upon mind and body with great exactness and literary power, and anyone at all interested in psychology will be absorbed by the mental and physical manifestations of the disease, and by the social questions which a changing state of health force upon a well-known and popular author.

The "Journey" was written after his recovery, and it reads as if he had to tell the truth, in order to clear his mind of the whole experience. It must have-been horrifying, for he faced death from idiocy and paralysis. But his friends clubbed together, and sent' him to Sweden,' where he was operated upon by a famous surgeon - in on operation which lasted four hours, and during which he was conscious, though he felt no pain.

The last few pages, in which he is about to return to Hungary, are wonderfully free from the fear and strain of the greater part of the book.

Undoubtedly, you will not want to read this autobiography to escape from life - it isn't wish-fulfilment literature; but it can be recommended to those who are interested in the true and the real.

Copies may be obtained from "Modern Books".

K. R.

Awards.

Salient was gratified by the response to its competition. The Literary committee has allotted the following awards:

For prose: to Mr. A. St. C. Murray Oliver, for his "Garden of Let he", and for verse; to Miss Phyllis Speller for her attractive poem "The Coward".

We congratulate both for their entries, and all other students who were interested enough to submit work for the competition. It is a pity that there is not more space available to print their work.

The award will be continued in the future with each issue; entries for the next competition should be in the hands of the Salient editor by 8 p.m. on Friday, 26th July.