Books: Merry Christmas, $25 Worth

The problem, say, is an aunt. She is 74 years old, does not drink or smoke, hates perfume, and gets all her clothes, apparently, at an upholstery shop on Third Avenue. What to give her for Christmas? Black despair, then inspiration: she likes to read, and her taste would be exactly suited by Morte d’Urban, J. F. Powers’ witty novel of a worldly priest. The gift giver visits a bookstore and returns well satisfied.

What he has bought, of course, is not Morte d’Urban but Persian Art, by Roman Ghirshman. The reason is not that Persian Art is a magnificent, lavishly illustrated study (it is), nor that Aunt is fascinated by the subject (she isn’t). It is that Persian Art (Golden Press; 401 pp.) costs $25 and weighs 4! Ibs., and Powers’ novel costs only $4.50 and weighs a paltry 20 oz. Until some publisher solves the problem by charging $40 for a novel printed on vellum, gift givers ashamed to say “$4.50 worth of Merry Christmas” will buy books by the pound.

Naturally, there is a ton or so to choose from—although this year, for the first time, publishers appear to be straining for subjects, so that there are two books on the White House (neither exceptionally good) and at least two each on such arcane matters as roses and oriental rugs.

The selection may be divided into 1) a large category of specialists’ books, 2) a very small category of general-interest books, and 3) doorstops.

It is recommended that buyers interested in doorstops consider the color scheme of the room which contains the door to be stopped. Samples: SHAKESPEARE: TEN GREAT PLAYS (502 pp.; Golden Press; $12.95) has a pinkish grey dust jacket, suitable for pinkish grey rooms. Why, however, print only ten of Shakespeare’s plays? And why lard them out with puerile illustrations? The answer, possibly, is so that the publisher can charge $12.95 for literature in the public domain.

A FIFTEENTH CENTURY COOKRY BOKE, compiled by John L. Anderson (92 pp.; Scribner; $4.50). This book (suitable for stopping only the lightest doors) might have been written by Chaucer’s mother (“Take ye whyte of Eyroun a grete hepe”). But as it takes a half-hour to translate a recipe, it is not good for much except a wry smile. Blue-green jacket.

THE STORY OF WINE IN CALIFORNIA, by M.F.K. Fisher and Max Yavno (125 pp.; University of California; $15). For Mr. Gallo to give to Mr. Roma. White, umber and sienna jacket.

Specialists’ Books. Art books, though generally considered all-purpose gifts, are more properly put into the specialist classification. Merely because a person has been heard to praise Van Gogh is no reason to give him an expensive work on Tunisian mosaics (the New York Graphic Society puts out an excellent Tunisian collection at $18, and if legs were offered as an optional extra, it would make a serviceable coffee table). Among the category’s best : GREAT DRAWINGS OF ALL TIME (four volumes), edited by Ira Moskowitz (2,000 pp.; Shorewood; $160). The title is accurate, the selection intelligent, the reproduction good. There are 1,107 color plates. A brief introduction precedes each sheaf of drawings, which are grouped by nations. On price and weight (38 Ibs.), this set is the year’s best snob value, but this need not deter nonsnobs; its artistic value is also high (see cut). The four volumes have the scope of a museum—though no museum exists in which so many master drawings can be seen on public display.

THE FAUVES, by Jean-Paul Crespelle (365 pp.; New York Graphic Society; $25). The 100 color plates in this superb collection are by far the best reproductions offered this year, and it is fitting that they should be, since shocking, vibrant use of color was what earned the school of Les Fauves (The Wild Beasts) its name. The painters are Matisse, Rouault, Derain, Braque, Dufy, et al.

A TIME OF GODS, photographs by Roloff Beny, notes by John Lindsay Opie (272 pp.; Viking; $20). A picture essay that lives up to its considerable pretension. Photographer Beny, a 37-year-old Canadian, has fitted brooding, atmospheric studies of Greece — the stones, the sea, the sky—to a running series of quotations from Chapman’s 17th century translation of the Odyssey. The result is arty, but it is also remarkably successful.

THE NEW ENGLAND IMAGE, text and photographs by Samuel Chamberlain (192 pp.; Hastings House; $ 12.95). This is for spiritual New Englanders, the exiled yearners who can look at a plain wooden barn in a rocky Vermont field and see the Parthenon. It is customary to photograph New England in color (all those leaves), but the author’s choice is black and white, and it is the better, sterner one.

COLUMBUS IN THE NEW WORLD, text and photographs by Bradley Smith (191 pp.; Doubleday; $15). As befits its subject, this one is less impressionistic than Photographer Beny’s book on the Odyssey, but it is equally successful. The photographs are mostly in color, and they show the Caribbean as Columbus must have seen it.

VENICE, THE MASQUE OF ITALY, by Marcel Brlon (223 pp.; Crown; $10). It takes impressive hubris to tackle Venice; Ruskin, after, all, got there first, and almost every writer with the price of a ticket has followed him. Author Brion attempts not only a gloss of Venice’s history, but also a presentation of the glittering array of its art, and has come respectably close to achieving his goal.

HOMES OF THE AMERICAN PRESIDENTS, by Cranston Jones (232 pp.; McGraw-Hill; $13.95). Brief profiles of the homely side of each President, with drawings and photographs of the cabins, houses and mansions they lived in that amount to an informal but revealing survey of the U.S.’s underdocumented and undervalued domestic architecture.

THE WINES AND VINEYARDS OF FRANCE, by Louis Jacquelin and Rene Poulain (416 pp.; Putnam; $9.95). For the Duke of Burgundy to give to the Duke of Beaujolais: all the data the professional or lay worshiper could want on vineyard yield, character of soil, body, taste and vigor of wines, along with assessments of each vintage of each wine, back to the 18th century. For example, 1798 was a “remarkably fine year” for both red and white Bordeaux, but for red Bordeaux, 1885 and ’86 were “bad years (mildew).” General Interest. Publishers have given long thought to the problem of how to find gift books that will appeal to everyone who knows that English is printed from left to right, and also to everyone who does not. They have not come up with much. Of this year’s general-interest gift books, any number are worth giving, but only these four seem worth receiving: WHICH WAY DID HE Go?, by Ronald Searle (128 pp.; World; $4.95). The wittiest draftsman now drawing visits France, Germany and the U.S., and also takes a look at England, which is his usual beat.

Like Daumier’s, his eye is remorseless; unlike Daumier’s, it is also fond. He has somehow found drawing room between sight gag and social satire, and he explores it with sketches of old men eying young nudes at Las Vegas, of a paunchy cop yawning in Times Square, of a 24-hour-a-day Industriekapitãne clutching his briefcase in a hotel bathtub in Düsseldorf. Even his shameless gag cartoons delight the eye. He shows a Parisian butcher’s shop, for instance; it is called Boucherie Chevaline, and it specializes in horsemeat. In the doorway is the proprietor, and—naturellement—he is a centaur. A small joke, but a fine centaur, a fine book.

THE AMERICAN HERITAGE HISTORY OF FLIGHT, edited by Alvin M. Josephy Jr.

(416 pp.; American Heritage; $ 15). The spirit of the 20th century’s only great adventure is caught amazingly well in this soaring chronicle. The text is fine, and much of it is in the words of the heroes who did the deeds. The illustrations are lavish and expertly chosen. Amelia Earhart grins her winner’s grin. Jimmy Doolittle flies the stubby, deadly Gee Bee past a pylon, and the eagle screams in a World War I poster.

THE FIRST WORLD WAR, edited by Lawrence Stallings (297 pp.; Simon & Schuster; $7.50), was first published in 1933, and shows it in many ways—idiotic captions, tricky paste-ups and the like. But there is nothing dated in the hundreds of stark photographs. They show with brutal effectiveness what there is to show of any war—mud and blood; broken buildings, broken bodies, frightened men. A classic collection, put together by the author of What Price Glory?, without a laugh or a hero in the lot.

THE JOURNALS OF THE EXPEDITION OF LEWIS AND CLARK (two volumes) edited by Nicholas Biddle (547 pp.; Heritage Press; $12.50). What can be added to these classic journals is handsome bindings, fine maps and illustrations, and a helpful introduction. The Heritage Press has added these, and the results will please the booklover as well as the historian.