Calhoun School - Ink Pot Yearbook (New York, NY)

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0 1936 INK POT ' M6 f , IDur-.haf tue,-twnof Paths of Glory By IIIIMPIIRICX Com: Very few books have made such an impression upon me as did Palflx of Glory. I'ntil I read the hook I felt that although war was horrible it was an honor to tight and die for one's country. But there is no such glory, no such honor, and Mr. Cobb seems to believe that there never will be. The book opens with the conversation of two soldiers. The younger is an idealistic recruit who notices with wonder the many medals worn by the other, Langlois. Langlois tells him that winning them is like winning a lottery-luck. The division to which they belong is ordered, by Division Commander Assoland, to take The Pimple , a German fortification situated at the top of zi hill. The task is an impossibility. Machine-gun tire is so steady that those who do leave their trenches are killed. The others are stunned by the bullet riddled bodies which are blown backwards into the trenches. General Afxsli ' . 4 V 11 11' '., ' w' . ' seo ind, furious because the attack is a failure, decides to court martial one man from each company, as an example to the others. The court martial is a gruesome farce. The men are convicted and shot. I.anglois is one of them, In front of the tiring squad he flings his medals to the ground. Ile didn't need them, for he felt that his country's tiring squad was reward for his bravery. Humphrey Cobb knows soldiers, for he enlisted with the Canadian forces in 1914. Ile understands their superstitious and their fears. For this reason the book is a living revelation of what goes on behind the lines, and of those who set out on the Paths of Ulorvf' M ,xoimai rv is -I icons, '36 Fifty

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Q 1936 INK POT Q Li e IFE is to love and to labor. Life is to feel the thrills of happiness and youth and to grow with your ideals. You walk beneath God's own sky and breathe the pure air. You wake in the morning to find the day more rare and more beautiful than the day before. You know the world stretching out before you, leading to the ways of opportunities, hopes, ambitions, and hardships. Lead frank lives, think pure thoughts: listen and learn. FANNIE MILLER, '39. Sunset in Florida The crimson sun which slowly sank Behind the Indian River bank Cast its sole remaining ray On the water-folk at play. Balmy, palm tree bordered sides Gently touched by flow of tides. Lemon, date and orange trees Lofty branches swayed in breeze While the crimson circle sank Beyond the Indian River bank. Next day the air was mild and warm, The scarlet sun arose at dawn. White-capped breakers on golden sand. Birds sang gayly in this sunfilled land, The river shone like crystal glass, Reflecting mountains clothed with grass. CONSTANCE Msmowirz, '39 Bonjour - Bonsoir Bonjour! Joli mot de fleurs, mot d'amour, Mot de hasard, mot de fortune. Il est de mode, partout, toujours, Le matin comme au clair de lune. Il est de l'enfance, de l':ige murg De la beaute, de la jeunesse, Des idees moroses et d'azur. Et l'on entend ce mot sans cesse- Bonjour! Bonsoir! a dit le bel adolescent A la rayonnante jeunesse, Et les deux mains bien tendrement Se serrent avec la meme ivresse- Un mot est bien pres du coeurg Ils voudraient se dire, mais ils n'osent. Qu'ils s'aiment!-Mais helas ils ont peur, Redisent, ne trouvant autre chose- Bonsoir! RHODA Mmrz, '37 Spring C ornes Crimson sunsets, golden dawns, 13 Daisy-speckled baby fawns Are the signs that spring is here- The spring that to me is so dear. Rivers wending swift their way, The sky above is never gray, The tall grass sways as breezes blow, The flowers bud, their petals show. A deer brushes the grass away, I feel the tall weeds gently sway. And it is never dark at night, For the moon has a silver light, And sunsets then! I try in vain To describe this caroled strain Of gems upon a piece of glass O'er which the artist's brush did pass. And I love to fish by a crystal stream, But more than that I love to dream In evening, when the pine trees stand Like sentinels to guard the land. ELISE Emssskc, '41, Forty-nine

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Q 1936 INK POT ' The Picture of Dorian Gray By Oscmt Wirns Dorian Gray is a young man who is so extremely handsome that he might be called beautiful. He is the subject of a portrait being painted by Basil Hallward. The third important character is Lord Henry Wotton, ultra-sophisticated, witty, the type that Wilde was so fond of in his plays. Lord Henry's conversation is composed mainly of clever remarks that, when analyzed, mean practically nothing. Such as: I can believe anything, provided that it is quite incredible. Conscience and cowardice are really the same things, UI choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good character, and my enemies for their good intellects. The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Wilde is again ridiculing the idle dandy of English society during the nineteenth century. The reader grows to despise Lord Henry, and his remarks become a trifle too scintillating. He is fascinating, though, in his langourous, sensual way, and one can understand the strange hold he has on Dorian. Basil Hallward sees in Dorian all that art ever meant to him. He wished to keep this youth unspotted and away from the meaningless, shallow English society. He perceives that Lord Henry would turn the boy's head and would spoil his eager, candid, spontaneous nature. Dorian is introduced into the story with a soul as beautiful as his face. Lord Henry im- presses upon him the fact that he possesses great beauty, and when Dorian sees the portrait he wishes fervently for the picture to grow old and for him to remain eternally young. He said, I would give my soul for that. From this point Wilde traces the sinister, insidious influence Lord Henry has on Dorian. Wilde's descriptions are remarkable in that they convey perfectly the languid, dreamy, sensuous mood of the story. He appeals to our senses of smell and touch, and his descriptive sentences are long, giving a continuity that hold the whole theme together. Here is an illustration: The studio was Filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn. The book is fantastic, almost weird. There is not one character that is lovable or wholly human. Yet Wilde's style is fascinating, and the mood and atmosphere seep into the reader's mind. IRENE FRANK, '36 I Write As I Please By WAl.TER DURANTY Walter Duranty, Moscow correspondent of the New York Times since 1920, says that he first heard of Russia at the age of four when his nurse took him to a Russian comedy. But he patiently waited for some thirty years before he really saw the country. If I do get back I shall do as I please and write as I please, without fear or favor, is the resolution Mr. Duranty made while lying in a French hospital suffering from the agony of a gangrenous foot. Hence, we have an unusual title from an unusual statement. Mr. Duranty has given to the readers the substance of his interviews with Stalin and other outstanding Russian leaders. He tells the story of the New Economic Policy, the Five Year Plan and the man-made famine of 1933, into all of which he weaves bits of personal adventure and of humor. This book is part autobiography and part history, and with its humorous touches it ought to appeal to any reader interested in Russia, to whom pure history books are a bore. MURIEL HELLER, '37 Anna Karenina By Leo ToLsTox Tolstoi possesses a dramatic, powerful, and sweeping style which is very intense. This, together with his sympathetic understanding of people, power of analysis, and descriptive ability makes this novel of Russian life before the Russian Revolution well worth reading. Juoxrn FRANK, '36 Fifty-one