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• Enoch Arnold Bennett, 1867-1931. In his own words: "Am I to sit still and see other fellows pocketing two guineas apiece for stories which I can do better myself? Not me. If anyone imagines my sole aim is art for art’s sake, they are cruelly deceived."This statement would perhaps deter me, were they to come from a postmodern writer. It does not with Bennett. I found "The Grand Babylon Hotel" delightful. The story originally appeared as a serial in "The Daily Mail". What kept me glued was, I believe, exactly that which prompted Theodore Racksole, New York millionaire, to buy the Grand Babylon from our dear Mr. Babylon (steak and a bottle of Bass being only a convenient excuse). I mean to say it was glitz, glamor, German princes, Teutonic blood lines, Hebrew money lenders, Royalty, Power—these things were where the intrigue lay for Racksole and I. It was a bit strange to read a mystery in which we early on come to know "who done it", but not the why. What a fiend that Jules was! Unlike Racksole, I remain highly apprehensive of Mr. Rocco's future business affairs, as well as those of the nefarious Miss Spencer. Just imagine the gall of Rocco! A world famous chef who would clandestinely embalm a murdered man in the place of his employment! Who could not enjoy such settings as the Grand Babylon, its deep and dark wine cellar of exquisiteness, a European gaming palace complete with roulette table, a boat chase on the Thames, the Belgian city of Osten. I could not help but make a comparison of aspect and origin between Mr. Babylon and Christie's Hercule Poirot.I'm glad that I came to the Grand Babylon. It does not take itself too seriously and contains—besides a unique class of characters—quite an adventure. I truly envy Prince Aribert winning the hand of the fair American Nella Racksole. What a handful he will have... Who cares though, with her looks along with her father's money... And, though a bit adventurous, truly she is a sweet girl!

  5.00 out of 5

  endersreads

• The great novelist Arnold Bennett started his career as a writer with this, a popular fiction designed to appeal to the ordinary reader of adventure and INCIDENT. And, through much of his career, Bennett would come back to this form, and occasionally write a classic of popular fiction, such as "Buried Alive." This novel is a lark, a hoot, a holler, a bit of fast-paced drollery. It's hard to describe, actually. And perhaps I shouldn't try until I read it again. But my memory, after over a decade, still warms to this book.One word of advice: Snobs need not even try. This is not an attempt at character revelation or sociological analysis -- two things Bennett, in his more serious work, was emintently capable of providing. Here Bennett tries for something very different. And succeeds. But unbendable snobs (such as the great H.L. Mencken) hate these books.I don't.

  4.00 out of 5

  wirkman

• A genuine Edwardian romp! The Grand Babylon Hotel is situated on London's Embankment and is generally agreed to be the finest, most luxurious hotel in Europe. It regularly accommodates a wide selection of the crowned heads of Europe and as the story opens it is about to host the Princes Aribert and Eugen from the East European principality of Posen. However, among the other guests are American multi-millionaire Theodore Racksole qnd his daughter Helen, generally known as Nella. Having been disappointed over his desire for a sirloin steak, in a fit of pique Racksole insists on seeing the hotel's proprietor, Mr Babylon, and ends up buying the hotel itself.A string of incidents ensues, culminating in the abduction of Prince Eugen, following which the action relocates to Ostend.The pace never flags but the plot retains its integrity. The characters may be slightly exaggerated, and less immediately likable than the cast of Bennett's later novels set in the Five Towns, but they all remain plauisble, and retain the reader's attention. A very enjoyable read!

  3.00 out of 5

  Eyejaybee

• Jules, the celebrated head waiter of the Grand Babylon, was bending formally towards the alert, middle-aged man who had just entered the smoking-room and dropped into a basket-chair in the corner by the conservatory. It was 7.45 on a particularly sultry June night, and dinner was about to be served at the Grand Babylon. Men of all sizes, ages, and nationalities, but every one alike arrayed in faultless evening dress, were dotted about the large, dim apartment. A faint odour of flowers came from the conservatory, and the tinkle of a fountain. The waiters, commanded by Jules, moved softly across the thick Oriental rugs, balancing their trays with the dexterity of jugglers, and receiving and executing orders with that air of profound importance of which only really first-class waiters have the secret. The atmosphere was an atmosphere of serenity and repose, characteristic of the Grand Babylon.It seemed impossible that anything could occur to mar the peaceful, aristocratic monotony of existence in that perfectly-managed establishment.Yet on that night was to happen the mightiest upheaval that the Grand Babylon had ever known.

  out of 5

  edella

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