It was G. K. Chesterton, T think who said that fiction may, after all, be only a passing phase "of literature, like the epic poem, the fable, and the fairy story. And it does seem that modern fiction does. and {o make one's characterizations 'AL all readable, calls for no small Mogree of skill. Upon this score,
mented. the author is to be highly compl Caroline Bailey, principal character, is as commonplace they make them, besides which she ly grossly incompetent, forever being taken to task for her slovenly work and going about in dread of losing her job. She is of interest only x0 far as she truly represents the average typist in x sinecure. One of the chief attractions of the story is its faithful picturization of the queer fish who would not be tolerated for an instant in a private business organization,. but who Somehow or other manage to work themselves into 4 "cushy" berth the wis of governmental bodies, national and borough, alike.
On the other hand, the mistress of the unhappy General Rad: cchenko, ax well as that worthy himself, is' extremely well drawn, The thor shows considerable insight various national characteris-ties, M. Lavalle, the head of the department, is another excellent portrait, and there are one or two more.
Caroline, fortunately for her, is retrieved from a humdrum existence by the sudden appearance of the man who loves her. So trite an expedient is hardly worthy of the author who, whether one is interested in her pictures oF not, has up to this point been satisfactorily consistent. The plausible outcome would be the drowning of Caroline Bailey in her own utter futility, which last observation perhaps affords a clue to the author's purpose in writing. the th are these" servants of the showing us how common Book. "it may be
League, she would have us realize an element. of futility. Characterizing the League, itself.
If, on the other hand, "The Peacemakers," is intended solely as picture of a very limited human Society, it is altogether too kaleidoscopie to be fully satisfying. The futher, it is to be suspected, has re-Corded her own experiences at Geneva. She 1s far more adept. reading her own sex than in. di cerning the true inwardness of the opposite. One would. be far from reappointed to learn from the pages that the majority of her male cha feters had met with a violent death, not make the same appeal to intelligence that the older stut did Still does, Clever authors today parently not writing fiction, {possibly because they: are all con: centrating on articles about the decadence of modern fi ion). remember, when I was " youngster, hearing people iseuss "When the Sleeper Awakes," we would! discuss today Einstel new theo-vies, as_something quite high brow and something which we felt rather proud of ourselves for being able to discuss at all. But what group of the intelligentsia today would regard the works of "Sapper" oF Alee Waugh, or Somerset Maughe or Burrourhs, or Edgar Wallace, any of the best sellers of today fit subjects for discussion? Half of their work is sex appeal, a quarter is sensationalism, and the other quarter is mere padding.
Modern English fiction is cither asleep or dead: and if she is asleep, quite possible that she may wake up to find herself on the other ide of the Atlantic.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.