Colette Continues

THE RIPENING -- Colette -- Farrar & Rinehart. What Elinor Glyn used to be to thousands, Colette has increasingly become: purveyor to those who like mild aphrodisiacs in print.* But Colette, far above Authoress Glyn's tabloid class, wraps her erotic tablets in bathos-proof cellophane. Her uncanny feminine understanding, hearty physical sympathy for the internal workings of human nerves and glands, make her a writer who cannot avoid being labeled passionate but who never runs any danger of being cheap. Of the many Colette translations that have appeared in the U. S. in the last few years, The Ripening is one of the neatest and best. Philippe and Vinca have spent many a comradely summer in the seaside cottage rented jointly by their families. But this year adolescence has made their old comradeship a little tense. Very fond of each other, they are ashamed of the word "love," take it mutually for granted that some day. . . . But the future gets a forced growth when Philippe meets a ripe lady who has a conveniently neighboring villa. She casts a greedily speculative eye on Philippe's 16-year-old bronzed body. When he brings her flowers, she does the rest. He is horrified, fascinated, sneaks back to her at night, again & again, again. Vinca guesses his secret, confronts him with it. Terribly sorry but terribly proud too, Philippe confesses, hopes Vinca will not want to kill herself. Much to his surprise, she does just the opposite; to his bewildered chagrin, takes it in her uncanny feminine stride, teaches him a lesson about women that he will never forget, never understand.

*Euphemism for 99.44% of all readers.

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