It is just on two years since I had the good fortune to receive
a very early copy of Joan Grant’s book, WINGED PHARAOH’,
so I was able to draw the attention of readers of “Current Literature”
to the first work of this then unknown author before news of it had
reached most of the more distinguished critics. I said of it :

“WINGED PHARAOH” is beyond all praise ... it is so wise, so
beautiful; it should bring escape and hope and serenity of soul
to thousands who, once having read it, will remember it with
joy all their lives.”

Within a few weeks the book had been acclaimed upon all
sides and I have good reason to believe that its sales proved a
record for any first novel published at ten-and-sixpence. Now
Mrs. Grant gives us her second joyous testament.

LIFE AS CAROLA, by Joan Grant, (Methuen, 10/6). In her first
book Mrs. Grant wrote of ancient Egypt and her life there as a
co-Pharaoh with her royal brother. This time she tells us of her
life as a strolling player in mediaeval Italy. The contrast between
the cultured, serene existence on the banks of the Nile and that of
ignorant squalor in Tuscan taverns is about as great as it could be,
yet Mrs. Grant writes of both with the same certainty and vividness.

Carola was the bastard of the Griffin, a great Italian noble, by the
castle sewing-woman. She was brought up by her mother in secret,
lest the griffin’s mother should discover her existence and throw
them both out. That happened when Carola was still a little girl
and her father was absent in Spain.

Her mother died of heartbreak and destitution so Carola was left
with Bernard, the strong man, Lucia, the harlot, and Petruchio,
the dwarf jester, a group of strolling players, as her only friends.

With them she toured Northern Italy, always ragged, often starving,
the witness of drunken brawls and habitual lechery, but in the
deformed Petruchio she found a true friend. Together they gradually
came to the knowledge that they had not always dwelt in dirt and
squalor but were splendid beings who had lived on earth many times
before, and that when this short, hard term in the Divine School –
which we call life on earth – was over they would be splendid
beings once more.

When Petruchio died Carola sought refuge in a convent, filled with
the belief that the brides of Christ must also know the eternal truths.
She became a novice, not with any view of renouncing the world but
to gain further enlightenment. To her utter horror, she found no Light
within the convent walls, but truth forgotten and distorted into
senseless mummery. When the old Abbess died, Carola was
persecuted for her beliefs and put to the torture as a heretic.

To tell you more would be to spoil the story and I wish it to be
absolutely clear that, quite apart from its golden teaching, this book
contains an historical romance which rivals Lion Feuchtwanger,
author of JEW SUSS, at his best. Moreover, it is written with such
glowing gems for language that Oscar Wilde would have been
proud to have his name upon its title page.

At this present time it is of immense importance because it carries
the message that Death is not to be feared. Death is a friend who
brings Release so that we once again become fully conscious of
our true and finer selves; those selves that are obscured while we
wear the material bodies necessary to these lives on earth by
which we gain experience in the long journey upon the upward
path which we all must tread towards perfection.

The comfort, reassurance and shining hope to be found in these
pages are an armour which would turn even a craven into a paladin.
It is the simple, logical Ancient Wisdom which was preached in all
its purity by Moses, Jesus, Lao-tze and Buddha, but which has since
become obscured by dogma and misinterpretation. Wisdom,
Compassion, Courage; these are the watchwords; and the light shines
again in this darkest hour when the dread shadow of War are all
about us. This is why every family, even if they have to save their
pennies, should give with their love copies of LIFE AS CAROLA
and its glorious predecessor, WINGED PHARAOH, to their fighting
men.