The Bishop, and Other Stories, and The Chorus Girl, and Other Stories, by Anton Chekhov; translated from the Russian by Constance Garnett (The Macmillan Company). I have called attention to previous volumes in this edition of Chekhov from time to time. These two new additions to the series carry the English version of the complete tales two-thirds of the way toward completion. Chekhov is one of the three short story writers of the world indispensable to every fellow craftsman, and these nineteen stories are drawn for the most part from the later and more mature period of his work.
The Surprises of Life, by Georges Clémenceau; translated by Grace Hall (Doubleday, Page & Company). Although this volume shows a gift of crisp narrative and sharply etched portraiture, it is chiefly important as a revelation of M. Clémenceau's state of mind. Had it been called to the attention of Mr. Wilson before he went to Paris, the course of international diplomacy might have been rather different. These twenty-five stories and sketches one and all reveal a sneering scepticism about human nature and an utter denial of moral values. From a technical point of view, "The Adventure of My Curé" is a successful story.
Tales of My Native Town, by Gabriele D'Annunzio; translated by G. Mantellini, with an Introduction by Joseph Hergesheimer (Doubleday, Page & Company). This anthology drawn from various volumes of Signor D'Annunzio's stories gives the American a fair bird's-eye view of the various aspects of his work. These twelve portraits by the Turner of corruption have a severe logic of their own which may pass for being classical. As diploma pieces they are incomparable, but as renderings of life they carry no sense of conviction. Mr. Hergesheimer's introduction is a more or less unsuccessful special plea. While it is perfectly true that the author has achieved what he set out to do, these stories already seem old-fashioned, and as years go on will be read, if at all, for their landscapes only.
Military Servitude and Grandeur, by Alfred de Vigny; translated by Frances Wilson Huard (George H. Doran Company). It is curious that this volume should have waited so long for a translator. Alfred de Vigny was an early nineteenth century forerunner of Barbusse and Duhamel, and this record of the Napoleonic wars is curiously analogous to the books of these later men. I call attention to it here because it includes "Laurette," which is one of the great French short stories.
An Honest Thief, and Other Stories, by Fyodor Dostoevsky; translated from the Russian by Constance Garnett (The Macmillan Company). This is the eleventh volume in the first collected English edition of Dostoevsky's works. The great Russian novelist was not a consummate technician when he wrote short stories, but the massive epic sweep of his genius clothed the somewhat inorganic substance of his tales with a reality which is masterly in the title story, in "An Unpleasant Predicament," and in "Another Man's Wife." The volume includes among other stories "The Dream of a Ridiculous Man," which, though little known, is the key to the philosophy of his greater novels.
Civilization, 1914-1917, by Georges Duhamel; translated by E. S. Brooks (The Century Co.). This volume shares with Élie Faure's "La Sainte Face" first place among the volumes of permanent literature produced in France during the war. With more subtle and restrained artistry than M. Barbusse, the author has portrayed the simple chronicles of many of his comrades. He employs only the plainest notation of speech, with an economy not unlike that of Maupassant, and the indictment is the more terrible because of this emphasis of understatement. Before the war, M. Duhamel was known as a competent and somewhat promising poet and dramatist, and he was one of the few to whom the war brought an ampler endowment rather than a numbing silence.
Czecho-Slovak Stories, translation by Šárka B. Hrbkova (Duffield and Company). I trust that this volume will prove a point of departure for a series of books each devoted to the work of a separate Czecho-Slovak master. Certainly the work of Jan Neruda, Svatopluk Čech, and Caroline Svĕtlá, to name no others, ranks with the best of the Russian masters, and the reader is compelled to speculate as to how many more equally fine writers remain unknown to him. For such stories as these can only come out of a long and conscious tradition of art, and the greater part of these stories are drawn from volumes published during the last half century. The volume contains an admirable historical and critical introduction, and adequate biographies and bibliographies of the authors included.
Serenus, and Other Stories of the Past and Present, by Jules Lemaître; translated by "Penguin" (A. W. Evans) (London: Selwyn & Blount). Although this volume has not yet been published in the United States, it is one of the few memorable short story books of the season, and should readily find a publisher over here. Anatole France has prophesied that it will stand out in the history of the thought of the nineteenth century, just as to-day "Candide" or "Zadig" stands out in that of the eighteenth. These fourteen stories are selected from about four times that number, and a complete Lemaître would be as valuable in English as the new translation of Anatole France. The present version is faultlessly rendered by an English stylist who has sought to set down the exact shade of the critic's meaning.
Tales of Mystery and Horror, by Maurice Level; translated from the French by Alys Eyre Macklin, with an Introduction by Henry B. Irving (Robert M. McBride & Co.). Mr. Irving's introduction rather overstates M. Level's case. These stories are not literature, but their hard polished technique is as competent as that of Melville Davisson Post, and I suppose that these two men have carried Poe's technique as far as it can be carried with talent. The stories are frankly melodramatic, and wring the last drop of emotion and sentiment out of each situation presented. I think the volume will prove valuable to students of short story construction, and there is no story which does not arrest the attention of the reader.
The Story of Gotton Connixloo, followed by Forgotten, by Camille Mayran; translated by Van Wyck Brooks (E.P. Dutton & Company). Mr. Brooks' translation of these two stories in the tradition of Flaubert have been a labor of love. They will not attract a large public, but the art of this Belgian writer is flawless, and worthy of his master. Out of the simplest material he has extracted an exquisite spiritual essence, and held it up quietly so as to reflect every aspect of its value. If the first of these two stories is the most completely rounded from a technical point of view, I think that the second points the way toward his future development. He presents his characters more directly, and achieves his revelation through dialogue rather than personal statement.