SOURCE: Review of Trelawny, by R. Glynn Grylls, The New Statesman and Nation, Vol. XL, No. 1017, September 2, 1950, pp. 254, 256.

In the following essay, Sackville-West argues that Trelawny's writings suggest that his artistic talents remained largely unrealized, due to his essential “aimlessness.”

He was a long, earnest man, and though born on an icy coast, seemed well adapted to endure hot latitudes, his flesh being hard as twice-baked biscuit. Transported to the Indies, his live blood would not boil like bottled ale. … Only some thirty arid summers had he seen; those summers had dried up all his physical superfluousness. But this, his thinness, so to speak, seemed no more the token of wasting anxieties and cares, than it seemed the indication of any bodily blight. It was merely the condensation of the man. He was by no means ill-looking; quite the contrary. His pure tight skin was an excellent fit...