The motivation of the book is centered in the translated personality of the heroine, and Mrs. Atherton’s treatment of feminine psychology is exceedingly dextrous. But a large part of the story’s merit consists in the cross-section of metropolitan activity at the margin where contemporary artists enjoy social registration.
Black Oxen is primarily a woman’s novel. Its theme will always be close to the heart of womankind, and Mrs. Atherton has added a more than feminine touch by leaving the problem unsolved. When, at the end of the book, Mary obeys the call of European duty and closes the taxi door in the face of transcendent love, the reader continues to wonder whether or not rejuvenescence is a good thing.
The author has employed an idealized “colyumist” as a foil. Clavering’s sudden success as a playwright is dubious. And the ending is too obviously an escape from the lived-happily-ever-after solution. But one loses sight of these technical anomalies in the impetus of the romance, the deftness of satire, and the intricacies of the heroine’s strange predicament.
Mrs. Atherton, in her first treatment of Eastern “civilization”, has had the good grace to sublimate sentimentality without destroying its perennial charm.
H. W. H.
Editor’s Table
“It’s about time you did some work around here,” said Cherrywold, as Ariel arrived only one hour and fifteen minutes late.
“Oh, no, not nearly!” remonstrated that irresponsible virtuoso.
“You can write the Editor’s Table,” growled Mr. and Mrs. Stevens patronizingly, who had come back from New York with a first edition of Coleridge and couldn’t forget it.