THE END OF THE BATTLE

Presumably the last of the Evelyn Waugh novels dealing with the adventures of Englishman Guy Crouchback immediately prior, during and just after the Second World War, The End Of The Battle gleams with all the old audacity, macabre romanticism and cadaverous jollity which have made Waugh probably the supreme satirist of our day. For those not familiar with the previous Crouchback pursuits, the author has provided a synopsis, and though that's a curt and crowded affair and the opening pages rather stuffy, nevertheless as one gets into the odd-named, odd-ball characters and many-faceted plot the grand pattern becomes clear. Essentially Waugh is following his representative last-man-of honor hero through the Battle of Britain and using him as a guide to its nonsense and its glory. After movingly describing the funeral of Crouchback's Catholic father, the author then brilliantly tackles the return of Crouch-back's former wife, the much-married, breathless Virginia, who-pregnant from one of her lovers- gets Guy to the altar once more, takes up religion, motherhood and the good life, only to meet death in the London blitz. During that time Crouchback has been away serving UNRRA and negotiating with Tito's partisans on behalf of some Jewish refugees. What Waugh has to say both of Americans generally and the invidiousness of Dalmatian commissars particularly should infuriate the jingoists of either camp. But whether he is doing vignettes of Guy's Halberdier regiment or his quaint bachelor uncle or a daemonic friend who becomes a phony best-selling author or behind-the-scenes glimpses of battle stations, nursing retreats and social and sexual wartime mores, Mr. Waugh is always lumecane and incorrigible. And beneath the cold sparkle and baroque charm and chatter, the serious render cannot but help find real people and really human, if worldly, concern. A palpable hit.