ABILITY AND VARIETY FEATURE NEW ADVOCATE

All the material in the current Advocate in creditable; some of it is excellent. The most interesting tendency in the number as a whole is the subordination of narrative. Until a short time ago, all college papers used to serve a regular repast of warmed over O. Henry, composed, at first largely, and at last entirely, of the condiment of Surprise. It is pleasant to remark that the influence of this absurd literary mountebank has finally waned, if not vanished. The two stories in the present Advocate, which I take as typical, are transitional; the old short-story formula is gone; the new is still in the making. Both pieces of work suffer from this lack of a guiding convention; the fancy is too unrestrained; the narrative elements are too scattered. They awaken the reader's interest in the persons of the event, the place of the event, but never in the event itself. In short, they are more essays than stories. Nevertheless, they both represent a striving after something far better than the vanished mode.

A Stimulating Piece

Mr. Kister's "Flats and Mansions" seems directly influenced by the much discussed and probably overrated "Lifiom". The hero, who, though an Irishman, is not a villain, goes to Heaven and completes a terrestrial romance with the soda-fountain lady of his dreams. Such is the plot, by far the least interesting part of the story. Much more important is a poetic, and even mystic, conception of great magnitude; every man's Heaven is a reflection of his Earth. Thus, Lorenzo the Magnificent beholds the dwelling of God as a vast, shining palace; the Egyptian slave beholds it as a sanctuary of a wordless mystery; Herlighy, from Eighth avenue, beholds it as a City Hall buzzing with bald-headed efficiency. The author has had difficulty in making this grand idea consort with the flippancy and slangy pathos of his main characters. In spite of some excellent writing and characterization devoted to that end, the emphasis of the story falls squarely on the Egyptian slave's speech: "The Lord is great and kind, but the way of the Lord is dark; who can tell the way of the Lord? He appears to all his people; but, lo, none of us has seen him. His coming is like the east wind, and his going, it is like the wind before dawn." Apart from these possibly pedantic considerations, "Flats and Mansions" is a stimulating and artistic piece of work.

Mr. Edmonds's story, "The Last of the Black Dwarfs", contains memorable bits of description and forgettable bits of plat. The conscious morbidity of atmosphere is redeemed by a boisterous whimsicality that never falls into coarseness. The first picture is masterly; especially the enormous woman with her prodigious bonnet, quite overwhelming with its ribbands and its artificial plums." The reader's interest flags as the action increases. This is partly accounted for by the fact that we do not know whether the story takes place in the material or the supernatural world. If in the material, then the events are too marvelous for our acceptance; if in the supernatural, they are not marvelous enough. A more definite placing of this otherwise delightful fantasy would help matters.

The three editorials that open the number are charming but not remarkable "sketches".

Exaits Ridiculous to Sublime

Mr. Morrison's essay, "The City of Mice", like all of his work that I have seen, is beautifully written. It really succeeds in its intention of exalting the ridiculous to the sublime. The author has breathed new life into the bygone idiom of poetic prose, and made it his own. Something should come of this. Mr. Hathaway, in his "Recollections of Reality", enlisted my sympathies with a corkscrew, and then began to alienate them with trout flies. Personally, I have always shunned as tedious any discussion of the superfluous and objectionable passion for hooking fish. But Mr. Hathaway broke down my prejudice with the delicate intimacy of his style, and I am forced to admit that I read him through to the end, and with much pleasure.

Some of the best prose in the number is contained in the book reviews. All three are robustly and epigrammatically written, and reveal, with many an apt turn of phrase, high powers of impressionistic criticism. The caricature of Max Beerbohm is as successful as many of his own caricatures. The review of "Cytherea" is perhaps too conscious in its "joyous paganism" (the same may be said of the book, I understand), but the concluding remarks on the novel are sound, and the whole is well expressed.

The poetry, in general, seems to be the work of capable writers caught in an off moment. The melody of the verses is smooth and tuneful; significance and magic are absent. Mr. Whitman's "Verse" and Mr. Burke's "Fantasy" stand slightly above my generalization, which, like all generalizations, may be unjust.

The March Advocate as a whole is well varied, and reveals much ability and some excellence among the present group of Harvard authors.