Current Advocate Creditable; Better Than Some Predecessors

The current number of the Advocate contains two ordinary editorial articles, two book reviews not carefully written but of some interest, and divers other contributions in prose and verse.

Of the prose, Mr. Hill's "Repatriation Service in France" lacks finish, but makes up for the lack by sincerity and substance: Mr. Eastman's "After the Dance" is a short fanciful sketch. "Death and the devil," it may be fairly said, have "done for the rest." J. D. writes with sardonic force on suicide; Mr. Williams depicts vituperative Frenchmen "bandying jovial indecencies" till the order comes: "All sections roll tomorrow at four. ***Trenchbombs." Mr. Sparks tells of an aviator killed in an accident and of the French girl who mourned him. As in many stories that deal with passion, the author's vehemence does not carry the reader with it. The final paragraph is dangerously reminiscent of the Bab Ballads:

"Tum, Tum. . T-T Tum: Tum. Tum Flattened indistinct drums jarred the column forward. And every thud of them was a flash more of light let into the otherwise enternity of a peasant barmaid's obesity. . . Tum . . T-T. Tum, Tum, Tum. . Georgiette!. . . Georgiette!"

Mr. Colby contributes a tragedy of love and blood, called "Charlie." The hero is a brutish boxer led to ruin by "a all slim dark-haired figure of a girl" whom he murders in a terrific final melee. The story is so formidable that few would penetrate it. The style is excessive in adjectives, adverbs, "color." and bold bad phrasing--at times a debauchery of words. Yet the author gives hints of power.

The verse is fairly cheerful. In particular. Mr. Cowley's parodies bring blessed relief: writers of "the new poetry" may well note such imaginative passages as,

"About garbage cans flies came into being

And buzzed their enjoyment of the world

And died" or,

"The wind is my breath and the sea is my spittle,"

Mr. Clarke's "Rain" is even in tone and graceful; Mr. King's sonnet, though not

discreditable, is uneasy, as the sonnets of the young (and even of the old) are wont to be; the Horatian verses to Chloe are imperfect, but promising,--"Therefore lift up your blushing gaze, and quit your all-sufficient mother." Mr. Auslander's sonnet, like all his work, shows talent and skill; but, hardened though we are to mixed novelties, we cannot accept as genuine his prayer for "the feathered thrill of birds." Mr. La Farge's "To My Goddess" exhibits feeling for the music of verse and contains pretty details. Unhappily the reviewer's copy omits the last line of the second and last stanza, and reads,--"Then lovelier than the hermit-thrush's call, Than whip-poor-will's insistent threnody, Christopher La Farge '20" which, I am sure, was not the poet's intention.

In this age of violence it is more than ever natural for young writers to be as violent as they can;

"On horror's head horrors accumulate." In this age of insurgence social and aesthetic it is natural for them to seek novel effects for novelty's sake, preferring a bad new use to a good old one, just as vicious people crave new sensations. With due allowance for these tendencies of youth and of the decade, this number of the Advocate is creditable; its ambitions are worthy; its attainments are not mean; and it is much better than some of its predecessors.  L. B. R. BRIGGS '75