Books: Good Books: Nov. 26, 1923

The following estimates of books much in the public eye were made after careful consideration of the trend of critical opinion :

STREETS OF NIGHT—John Dos Passos — Doran ($2.00). Three friends instead of three soldiers— Nancibel the violinist, Fanshawe the overcultivated instructor who would rather have books than life, Wenny the graduate-student, simplest of the three, youth unable to bear disillusionment—three people afraid to live — Laodiceans all. Wenny loved Nancibel, but he didn't have the courage of his conviction; Nancibel loved Wenny, but she didn't dare believe it. So the hour went by and Wenny shot himself and was luckier than the other two who went on living in Limbo—Nancibel, at the last, a pathetic dabbler in the stale waters of ineffective spiritualism; Fanshawe, the fastidious, doomed to a dull eternity of tea with professors' wives. A bitter, excellent novel of youth's frustration.

OPEN ALL NIGHT—Paul Morand— Seltzer ($2.00). A brilliant, sardonic mind vivisects post-War Europe with the knives of irony and folly. Five adventures, five nights— Catalonian, Turkish, Roman, Parisian, Hungarian—five exotically unexpected women and their dealings with a cochon international. The distorted and rapid scene of modern life is seen as if under the concentrated and sudden light of successive explosions of flashlight-powder; incredible life-histories are compressed into a few pages. Morand is one of the most individual of modern French writers and this is the first American translation of his work—a translation, which, in spite of its omissions, should prove of value to all those interested in contemporary European literature.

SARAH OP THE SAHARA—Walter E. Traprock — Putnam ($2.50). Dr. Traprock, discoverer of the fatu-liva bird and hero of My Northern Exposure, plunges into the passionate sands of the land of the Twin-Bedouins in search of love, adventure and the tomb of Dimitrino the First. His romance with Lady Sarah Wimpole burns like an incandescent lamp. Lions, sheiks and whiffle-hens bar his way, and after quite unbelievable exploits he is left alone with his memories. A take-off on the popular Sheik brand of fiction, adequately mirth-provoking though not quite so good as The Cruise of the Kawa.