(3 of 3)
Konrad Bercovici is one of these walrus-mustached foreigners who give a touch of the exotic to the reaches of the Hotel Algonquin, Manhattan. Two new books of his are on the autumn lists—Around the World in New York and lliana, a collection of gypsy stories. His play, Costa's Daughter, will soon be unveiled to the glances of Broadway. Bercovici is a Rumanian, born there in 1882. He came to this country in 1916, but no amount of American sunlight and air, fortunately, can erase the swarthy hue of his person or the sleek ebon of hair and mustache.
I have known Bercovici for some years. It was John O'Hara Cosgrave of the Sunday World who first made use of his talent for limning the odd foreign character in a pseudo-fact story of New York life. Around the office of the World Bercovici used to be a wandering and slow-moving figure, his soft voice puncturing the bang of typewriters, smoothly but insistently. He is one of those quiet people, born to be persistent and destined for success. He and his ilk are important to America because they furnish us with a type of poetry which enriches our literature without degenerating our standards. Bercovici is essentially romantic; but he is essentially wholesome. I have often wished that persons of his type could be spread more widely through the country. They would bring a new vision to the small towns of the North, South and West—only it would, perhaps, be impossible for them to fit into the groove of the small town. Here in New York, they drift sooner or later to their proper sphere of influence and prosperity. They become our only real friends. They are much-needed color spots in the Anglo-Saxon drabness.
If I knew the town of New York as well as Konrad Bercovici does, I should be sure never to be bored of an evening. In this latest book of his, he tries to explain the foreign quarters, and does it admirably; but the joy of discovery can never be ours if we follow a guide book. I shall never forget one or two early pilgrimages with him among strange coffee houses and narrow streets. Why not write a novel, Mr. Bercovici, that will catch the impressive magic of cosmopolitan New York?
J. F.
RAFTKIY — Donn Byrne — Century ($2.50).