The Equinox (Volume I, Number VIII)

EXTRACTS FROM PRESS NOTICES—Continued “A volume of no ordinary ability . . . real beauty.”—Advocate of India. “«.. . His poems are a mystery beyond the comprehension of the uninitiate. But we can appreciate the beauty of their sound, and envy those lovers in distant countries who will apparently enjoy the meaning. . . .”—English Review. “By a big Pot, no doubt.”—John Bull. “<The Triumph of Pan? contains poems alive with music and rich in thought. Mr. Neuburg writes with distinction, and the book, from first to last,is one which lovers of poetry will appreciate.” —Svandard, + full of the throbbing fever of life which one cannot confine into measure on all occasions. “<The Triumph of Pan’ is full of sonorous lines, with wonderful word pictures and poetic imagery which has seldom been excelled. . '— American Register. “... Many beautiful passages in the volume . . . strange allusions to unpleasant gods, and the imagery is occasionally repellent. “The tremendous conception of that ‘world so wide’... at his best in some of the shorter poems . . . stirring rhythm. “*. . . we linger with delight over the splendid line— Se The murmurous song ofthe morning star, aflame o'er the birth of day, “«, . . Melodious and plaintive with a haunting rhythm . . . vivid and pictorial . . . a painter's vision as well as a poet’s ear . . . a fine simile in ‘Osiris’ is all his own.”—Co-Mason. “.. . a delirious music. . . the majority of them (the poems) trouble the reader by giving the impression that a deep meaning lies behind the embroidered veil of words to which he is unable to pene- trate; others again seem to suggest events of too intimate and personal a nature to have a general appli- cation or interest . . . mixed metaphors—erratic visualisation. . . .”— Theosophy in Scotland. «Passion and pain, ‘red desire’ and ‘red roses” are frequent motifs in Mr, V. B. Neuburg’s ‘Triumph of Pan’ (‘ The Equinox’ Office), much of which merits the ambiguous distinction of being unusual. Though by no means deficient in originality, vigour or imaginative power, his verse is too often cumbered with the fantastic symbols of a Species of erotic mysticism, into which we feel no desire to probe; while the lack of reticence consistently displayed constitutes an artistic blemish not lightly to be excused. The author’s serene confidence in the immortality of his lays would be better justified were he to make some attempt to discriminate between the gold and the rubbish, and, incidentally, refraining from penning such grotesque- ness as is contained, for example, in ‘The Sunflower,’ where we are informed how, among other portents— “6a greater god arose, And stole the earth by standing on his toes ‘And blowing through the air,” ‘It is difficult to believe that the persons to whom certain poems are inscribed will experience any very lively gratification at the compliment.”—Atheneum. «©. really notable fluency and fecundity of expression. . . . He gives us little of that boring stuff that is usually termed ‘strong meat.’ . . . his dedicatory poem is the one that fascinates me most. It is a tender little lyric, delicate, iridescent, fragrant as a summer dawn, I take the liberty of quoting it in full... .”—Mew Age. “Fie, Mr. Neuburg! ... a most regrettable collection of songs that deal with unrestrained affection. . . . There’s no denying they are first-rate verse.”—PERCY FLAGE in The Equinox. “*, . . Weare dizzied and dazzled by a foaming rainbow-hued torrent of impassioned words. We are struck by the wealth and boldness of the imagery, and the facility of mechanical execution. . . . It is brilliant work . . . one is bound to admire the cleverness of it all.”—Literary Guide. “*. . . In the author of the present collection of poems . . . we have a veritable twentieth-century mystic and apostle of ecstasy who, according to his dedication, gives his songs— «<< By the sign that is black and forbidden, By the word that is uttered no more.’ “<The Triumph of Pan,’ from which the book borrows its title, is a remarkable sequence of some fort; “philosophic and ecstatic’ stanzas . . . he would also seem to ‘hold opinion with Pythagoras’ althoug! we question if even Nietzsche himself could quite fathom the undercurrent of the lay. . . . Despite occasional extravagances in thought and in diction his work is that of a cultured scholar, his verbal artistry undeniably inspired with the true spirit of poetry. Whether he sings of ¢ Violet skies all rimmed in tune,’ of red ravens, of purple kisses, of silver stars ‘crested with amber melody,’ or of the ‘rhythmic sway of the idle moon,” he is always musical albeit, like Wagner, whose effects he now and then distinctly recalls, often utterly unintelligible. . . . In striking contrast to the chaste and serenely beautiful ‘Diana Rides’ . . . are no less than twenty-two audaciously passionate love-lyrics inscribed not only to one Olivia Vane, but also, curiously enough, to her ‘ other’ lover.”—Zhe Gambolier. “He has arrived. . . . “Mr. Neuburg’s work is partly mystical and partly of the flesh. . . . Quite frankly, some of his work we do not at all understand. This applies notably to his ‘ Music-Pictures,’ which ‘were obtained under the direct influence of music.’ ‘This,’ the poet naively tells us, ‘may explain their apparent incon- sequence.’ . . . he ismuch more than a minor poet. He can and will yet accomplish great work... . His ingenious rhyming capacity sometimes almost startles one. In the choice of some of his subjects he is daring—greatly daring. His genius is undoubted ; and the world has a lot yet to hear of and from this gifted singer.” —Greater London Illustrated. “Tf he rejects this mask, Mr. Neuburg may become a poet.”—Khythm.