Books in Brief

Roman Folly, by Alice-Leone Moats (Harcourt, $4.50). Life too much for you? Worried about the A-bomb, Ho Chi Minh, le grand Charles? Want to forget it all and have yourself a lark? It’s easy as turning to Alice-Leone Moats’ rollicking Roman Folly. Miss Moats, who has made her home in Rome for the past several years, has done for la dolce vita Romana roughly what P. G. Wodehouse did for “Bertie Wooster England,” and laced her offering with touches reminiscent of La Mitford, at her The Blessings best. The plot, in brief: a sixteen-year-old American girl, an aerodynamic buff and talented motor mechanic, finds herself the PG (paying guest) of a Roman Dragon, Princess del Tevere, who is interested in only one thing: marrying off her indolent but charming nephew to A Fortune. The complications of the plot need to be read to be enjoyed, as six or eight Roman matrons (in a direct line from Lucrezia, not Cornelia) discover that the odd American child, usually to be found dickering with the insides of a Maserati, is one of that Vanishing Breed, the Rich Heiress—and it’s tally-ho! (oops, Avanti!). As in Wodehouse, the wicked are confounded, the sneaky outfoxed, the pompous deflated and, also as in Wodehouse, the reader enchanted. Ciao, Miss Moats!

P. L. BUCKLEY

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Roman Folly, by Alice-Leone Moats (Harcourt, $4.50). Life too much for you? Worried about the A-bomb, Ho Chi Minh, le grand Charles? Want to forget it all and have yourself a lark? It’s easy as turning to Alice-Leone Moats’ rollicking Roman Folly. Miss Moats, who has made her home in Rome for the past several years, has done for la dolce vita Romana roughly what P. G. Wodehouse did for “Bertie Wooster England,” and laced her offering with touches reminiscent of La Mitford, at her The Blessings best. The plot, in brief: a sixteen-year-old American girl, an aerodynamic buff and talented motor mechanic, finds herself the PG (paying guest) of a Roman Dragon, Princess del Tevere, who is interested in only one thing: marrying off her indolent but charming nephew to A Fortune. The complications of the plot need to be read to be enjoyed, as six or eight Roman matrons (in a direct line from Lucrezia, not Cornelia) discover that the odd American child, usually to be found dickering with the insides of a Maserati, is one of that Vanishing Breed, the Rich Heiress—and it’s tally-ho! (oops, Avanti!). As in Wodehouse, the wicked are confounded, the sneaky outfoxed, the pompous deflated and, also as in Wodehouse, the reader enchanted. Ciao, Miss Moats!

P. L. BUCKLEY