Judge, 1929-03-23 · page 10 of 36
Judge — March 23, 1929 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis This is a satirical short story illustrated for *Judge* magazine, not primarily a political cartoon. The piece mocks Western fascination with Haitian voodoo and perpetuates racial stereotypes common to early 20th-century American humor. **The Setup:** Author "Hanemann" claims to have studied Haitian voodoo firsthand, supposedly acquiring secret knowledge about native practices. The editor's note satirizes his credibility—he was literally buried under a stone for six months and had to be "returned to civilization." **The Satire:** The story ridicules both the author's pretensions to expertise and contemporary American attitudes toward Haiti and Black people. The stereotyped dialect ("Ou pardon moins," "Massa," "chop-chop") and the characterization of Charley as simultaneously worthless yet mysteriously connected to secret rituals epitomize the casual racism of the era. **The Joke:** The humor relies on readers finding voodoo exotic and comical, and on mocking both the author's gullibility and Haitian culture itself. The illustration shows a jungle scene with exaggerated mystical elements.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“Gawd, Harry, the Voodoo-de-oo, or Papa Love Mamaloi? By H. W. Hanemann Eprron’s Note: By spending six months in the heart of the Haitian jungle under a flat stone, Mr. Hanemann was able to acquire a knowledge of the native never before attained by a white man and by very few white men, indeed, if any. As a matter of fact, were it not for an officious native, who, going offishing, happened to look under the stone for bait, Mr. Hanemann might be there this minute, getting smarter and smarter, Unfortunately, having neq- lected to stamp himself with sufficient postage, Hanemann was seized and returned to civilization, marked “Not here—opened by mistake.” If. in relating what is to follow, I appear to be violating any oath made to my black buddies, or to mosquitoes are terrible here.” be betraying their contidence, let me assure vou that Tam not. [cannot tell you everything. But [ tell you what [ tell you, first, because there has been too much unfavorable misconception of Voodoo- de-oo worship, and, secondly, it is my firm belief that none of those ignorant so-and-sos know how to. read, anyway. Whatever insight [may have had into the secret rites of the Haitian jungle negro, 1 owe it to Charley, my boy. Charley (Jungle '28), like all indigenous help, cost very little and was utterly worthless. At the first sound of the Rada drums he was off to the hills with an “Ou pardon moins, dere goes dat dam’ telefoam,” On one of those days I said to him, half in earn est and half out of the window, “Charley, you seem to be having a hell of a lot of fun up thar in them hills. How's for t gx me along next time, and has she got a frien characteristic. “Massa.” look-sce, chop-chop. maybe. Charley's reply was said he, Fellas invite yo'-all to lerneh, You slip me little piccee dinero, yes?” “moins gagnin comicbooks.com