avarice, stupidity, fatalistic lethargy, and bestial obsessions of an ugly peasantry.
The title-story is easily the best. In this narrative Mr Powys gives us a representative and convincing gallery of rustics: the apathetic clergyman; the idiot; the amorous, accessible widow; the praying visionary and his innocent daughter; and the terrible landlord. Farmer Mew, the landed despot, covets the earth, and with silent, iron hand, reduces his tenants to slavery and rapes the visionary's daughter. The scene in which Mr Mew gains full ownership of Mary Gillet is extraordinarily effective; there is no elaborate preparation, no moonlight and dreamy fatigue and long rides, as in the case of Hardy's Tess—it is a sententious description of a cruel and deliberate act of animal mastery. Mr Powys is singularly successful in his handling of sexual matters; the stolid repressions of the Dorset folk are cleverly hinted at, and then suddenly divulged with swift and unexpected fierceness. It is a relief to find a writer who appreciates the significance of sex, and is not afraid to discuss the subject honestly; and yet, at the same time, one who is free from the pathological nastiness of the Freudian school. As a sustained piece of fiction The Left Leg is severely crippled by the preposterous Mr Jar. We are given to understand in the opening paragraph that if this shadowy saint should ever turn up, something would happen. Finally, at the last minute, he does appear, and the story collapses: Farmer Mew, in an inconsistent fit of remorse, blows himself to pieces, and Mr Jar leads the pregnant lass into a strange new land. The second story has to do with a school-mistress who goes into the country to escape the church bells and rats and smells of her native town, and of the tailor lover who follows her—the tailor dies, and the girl returns to the rats and smells. "God had sent her into the sunshine. But was there any sunshine? Surely not." The third story tells of young Luke Bird and the great religious light that strikes him. Luke chucks his job at the brewery, forgets his Winnie, and wanders into the peaceful vales to preach the gospel. But the villagers are as immovable as clods, and Luke finds it expedient to fall in love again. In the end Rose is coarsely possessed in Luke's presence by the Squire; and the young Bird takes the winding road which leads back to the brewery and to Winnie.
Mr Powys has yet to learn the principles of solid construction.
