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Then it is Helen who is more inclined to look with favor on Orestes than is Menelaus—and Hermione grows jealous, for Helen is still Helen. The last scene is laid as Telemachus comes to the house seeking tidings of his father, Odysseus. Helen gives him a cup of wine. "He took it from her, his hand touched hers, and she smiled at him. It was as she had said; he forgot all his sorrows—as it seemed, forever. But the magic, he knew, was not in the wine."
As Menelaus once remarked: "The only thing about her I understand, is her looks, and I don't understand how they last so well."
The Significance. As Aeschylus wrote the tragedy of Agamemnon's homecoming, so Mr. Erskine has essayed the comedy of Menelaus' return. It is a comedy of manners—all conversation (and plenty of it), witty, charming, subtle. Much of it is new as milk still warm from the udder, and much of it is old as human nature. It is cast in the shape of a modern novel, and yet, as regards the number of characters for example, it almost conforms to the rules of the old Greek drama. It is a fastidious tidbit for lovers of refinement, polished facets of philosophy, shrewd comment on human nature.
About ten years ago Mr. Erskine published a work entitled The Moral Obligation to Be Intelligent. His portrait of Helen is of a woman who believes in the moral obligation to be intelligent and who suffers from the natural obligation of being beautiful.
The Author. John Erskine is a professor of English at Columbia University. He is 46, and most of his life has been devoted to writing and editing things resembling textbooks, and to employing more or less of his cleverness in speaking to more or less appreciative audiences. He has now turned his wit loose and decided to write something that appeals to himself.
*THE PRIVATE LIFE OF HELEN OF TROY—John Erskine—Bobba-Merrill ($2.50).