Tae Asonovs Cueat, By Basil Creigh.
ton. (Chatto and Windus. 7s, 6d.
net.)
The work of Basil Creighton is already known to a discerning public through that remarkable first novel "The History of an Attraction." His new volume 'The Amorous Cheat," an essay in the highest comedy. should enhance an alread, elect reputation. The bare I of its story affords no great assistance to the aprchension of its thence. which is, in substance, that of "The Egoist," removed' one logical step farther, Misapprehension and passion bring it about that Vivian Fane, a young actress, and Edward Fanshawe enter into intimate relations on the first evening of their meeting. Edward Fanshawe who is a sort of younger, duller and in some ways more ingratiating, if less comedian, version of the odious Sir Willoughby Patterne, being himself after the world's fashion and phrase, innocent, enters upon the adventure unaware of the innocence of his partner. The remainder of the story is taken uv with hic slow dis. covery of the truth and the truth's effect upon him. The two principal figures move before twin back-crounds of falsity—the commercial stage and the suburban countryside. These back:.rounds are in reality irenic evocations of certain attitudes towards life which are largely dependent, on environment, and which chiefly concern themselves with the relations of men and women toward each other.
Meredith, Meredith." cried Stevenson, who had rushed to Box Hill on closing the master's latest in a panic, "how could you? Sir Willoughby is simply myself." To which the sage gently and sadly replied, "No, on the contrary, my friend,'be is all of us." There is no dull or heavy sermon in " The Amorous Cheat it is pure comedy, no pamphlet. But the delighted, if slightly abashed, reader, must, if his conscience prick him, draw from this book an inference no less disconcerting than from "The Egoist.""
In style, however, this novel has nothing in common' with Meredith, The beauty of its style is the beauty of sobriety, lucidity and economy; We are neither transported nor fatigued nor irritated, because the author is wholly intent upon his theme and has no time to drop a bow to the stalls or toss a wink to the gallery. The deliciousness of the comedy lies in the logic with which it is worked out to a conclusion scarcely tragic but no more grim than the situation demands. In this working out we encounter the most deftly, incisively and lightly drawn subsidiary figures. Minor figures are a great test of an author's ability, Banality and the merely grotesque lie in wait for him. Basil Creighton has succeeded in these subsidiary figures of the omniscient Mr. Fanshawe, the scheming sister Angela (no less superficially charming and fundamentally selfish than the "hero" Edward), the stage friend, Gougon, the sentimental actor-manager, Dody, as he has with the two protagonists. All live, and by his display of the spectacle of their evolutions in relation to his theme, the author creates in us that deep but spank-ling emotion which bears witness to the renewed presence among us of the artist.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.