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Adler, Philip A. (ed.) / Wisconsin literary magazine
Volume XVII, Number 4 (January 1918)

E. F.; E. L. M.
The book shop,   pp. 106-108

Page 106

at the Indian bazaars, but her specialty is Japanese
prints. Her collection is reputed to be the finest pri-
vately owned in the country. She has numerous Tsuji
Kwakos and Yamawaki Tokos, and even a famous
Okyo. Furthermore, her knowledge of the different
schools is very great. She can tell a Nangwa from a
Hokuga with absolute certainty, and her decision on
such matters is regarded as final. The presidency has
been repeatedly offered to her, but she had thought it
necessary to decline this honor. It would demand too
much of her time, she says, and she would be unable to
go about the country when an opportunity is presented
for purchasing what might prove to be a valuable
print. She prefers, to use her own words, to be a
common member.
Of late Miss Priscilla's age has prevented her
traveling. She can not get about with as much ease
as formerly, but her mind is as keen as ever. In the
past year all her energy has been directed in preparing
for a special exhibit and lecture course. Thus far all
her efforts have met with success and now she is to de-
liver her last talk, on the subject, "The Shijo School
of Japanese Paintings." She sits calmly on the plat-
form beside the president, waiting for the orderly bustle
to cease and the ladies to take their places. At last
the president rises majestically and introduces her,
praising her past work, and thanking her profusely in
the name of the society. Miss Priscilla bows in ac-
knowledgement, and unfolds her manuscript, written in
a delicate angular hand. Then in her high firm voice
she begins:
"The Shijo School of Japanese Painters deserve re-
cognition and study by all who can appreciate a return
to nature and reason in pictorial art." There is a
slight stir at the door as the butler admits a late comer.
Miss Priscilla pauses, politely wiping her eye glasses
to cover the unwonted disturbance. When the room
is again quiet, she coughs discreetly and resumes her
reading. The ladies sit motionless with upturned faces,
gravely expectant.
The Book Shop
Beyond: By John Galsn'orthy, Charles Scribner's Sons.
New York
In Beyond, Galsworthy again tells the story of "love and
the world well lost."  He is fond of the subject and has told
it several times before, but with particular success in The Dark
Flower.  Because The Dark Flower is so good it may be
harder to give Beyond its dues. It is unmistakably a "cheaper"
romance.  The writer perhaps knew it was to be published in
a "popular" magazine, and either deliberately or unconsciously
conceded something to this magazine's tone.
In texture the work is beautiful with the rich flowing beauty
which characterizes Galsworthy's style. The story is like an
unlovely design upon the finest silk. At times it sinks to melo-
drama, at times rises to the sustained poetry of The Dark
Flower.  Did the editors of the magazine request Galsworthy
to tack on a Happy Ending? If not, why could not Gyp be
allowed to die in body as she did in soul the night of Bryan's
death?   Life is almost cruelly forced upon her.  But what
to do with this undesired life?  On the next to last page Gyp
decides to run a fresh air farm for children of the slums.  We
are surprised.  But then, this is what heart-broken heroines
often do in fiction-and movies.
Galsworthy obviously likes his story people.  In spite of
all judgment he makes the reader like them too. We like even
that contemptible "fiddler fellow," Fiorsen, with his goldy
side whiskers, loping gait, with his repellant cattish eyes, fierce,
shy and furtive, and not one ounce of natural decency in him.
There is Daphne Wing, the dancer, the daughter of old
Wagge, the undertaker.  She is vulgar, Galsworthy assures
us, with a vulgarity only England can produce-her senseless
red lips always parted for sugar-plums, her tiresome "Oh"
this and "Oh" that. There is the sinister Count Rosek a Aii-
lian of almost old-fashioned magnitude. But the humanity
shines out through the foibles and villainies of these people.
One cannot hate what one understands and Galsworthy makes
one understand.  Difficult as the task is he can make us un-
derstand his distinctly goody-goody people, Lady Summer-
hay, for instance, and the Wagges.    As for the heroine
"Gyp," beautiful "Gyp" of the "flying eyes"
she is an ac-
quaintance for whom it is well worth reading a number of
"popular" magazines.
In an undercurrent, below and around the tenser human lives.
live the dogs and horses and cats in exactly the relation they
do in actual life.  There is no sentimentality towards these
humbler lives, and no patronage.  But one is very conscious
of them, of the Scotch terrier "Ossy" deaf, ancient disillu-
sioned, lying all day in the sun; of the terrier puppies, "black
devils with eyes bright as diamonds," of the magnificent thor-
oughbred Hotspur, a fine but foolish fellow who in the end
kills Brian against the lindhay wall.  The figure of this horse
with upflung head and empty saddle standing a second beside
his dead master is one not to be forgotten.
-E. F.
Trivia, by Logan Pearsall Smith; New, York, Doubledag
Page & Co.; $1.25.
Bits of philosophy that flash upon one at stray moments,
whimsical odds and ends of descriptive sketches of persons and
personages, city and country, and discourses in miniature on
life and its living-these Mr. Logan Pearsall Smith has gath-
ered between the covers of one of the most pleasing books of
the season. Trivia pretends to be nothing more than the off-
January, 1918

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