Review:Jones:Quiet Interior (C.)

Review:Whitehouse (ed.):Ruskin the Prophet (N.N.W.)

Review:Jones:Quiet Interior (C.) written by Author:C.

Review:Bosanquet:What Religion is (S.H.H.)

The Canadian Forum, February 1921, p. 152

Quiet Interior, by E. B. C. Jones^[1] (London, R. Cobden-Sanderson). It is pleasant to announce to novel readers, especially to the elect among them, the first book of a new author. Without attempting the thankless task of assessing the comparative merits of different writers and merely to give an idea of the type of book this is, I may say that were I a clerk in a library, engaged in the subtle task of fitting the book to the reader, I should, with the fullest confidence, reserve Quiet Interior for lovers of Rose Macaulay and Ethel Sidgwick and, with less certainty, Anne Douglas Sidgwick.

Quiet Interior — the name must, I think, be ironical and would fitly apply to the stories of Jane Eyre and Lucy Snow — is a subtle study of a character where intellectualism and passion (in the spiritual sense) are very finely balanced — too finely for the happiness of the owner. Clare Norris is a creature of delicate sensibilities, unflinching austerity and very rare honesty. The story of her love and her defeat in a contest where she refused to use any of the usual weapons of the game is the story of painful but inevitable obedience to the laws of her nature — laws which caused her to aim only at the highest and forced her to let go, though not without a pang, the substitute within her grasp.

To the older generation the book should be especially interesting as a detailed and convincing analysis of the modern girl in her attitude to life in general and to love in particular. It should also be reassuring, despite the abundance of well established hall marks of modernity — to wit frequent 'damns' and more frequent 'O God's'. Anyone whose sensibilities are tough enough to survive these will note signs that the exterior restraint which has been in great measure shaken off by the 20th century girl has been replaced by an interior restraint whose laws are stricter, more subtle and more peremptory than any which could be imposed from without.

Apart from occasional lapses into 'preciousness' and a few rather pointless classical allusions, Miss Jones has avoided most of the obvious pitfalls of a young writer. For the most part she uses her words with great precision and considerable restraint and the modern allusions are delightful in their casualness. The significance of the exclamation 'Oh God, Oh Montreal' may be obscure to some but not to lovers of Samuel Butler.

C.

1. ↑ Wikinote: Emily Beatrix Coursolles Jones