Life, 1883-03-15 · page 10 of 16
Life — March 15, 1883 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Her Light Guitar" and Bookish Satire This *Life* page combines romantic poetry with literary mockery. The illustrated poem "Her Light Guitar" (credited to J. W. Riley) is sentimental Victorian verse about a woman playing music—the accompanying decorative illustrations show idealized figures in romantic poses, typical of the era's aesthetic sensibilities. The "Bookishness" section satirizes contemporary literary pretension. It mocks: - A "Teutonic professor" who publishes single words as novels, then stretches sentences into magazine serials (exaggerating prolixity) - An English scientific book lacking American humor (jingoistic criticism) - A French aristocrat's travel book given an ironic title suggesting stuttering The satire targets pompous intellectualism, particularly foreign and academic pretension. The final jab—about books for the young being worthless unless "well lined with greenbacks" (money)—cynically suggests genuine value lies only in profit, not literature. The "New Novels" section continues this mockery with punning, reductive plot summaries of contemporary works, dismissing serious literature through crude summarization.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
: - LIFE: HER LIGHT GUITAR. HE twankled a tune on her light guitar— A low, sweet jan- gle of tangled sounds, As blurred as the voices of fairies are, Dancing in moon- dawn dales and downs ; And the tinkling drip of the strange refrain Ran o'er the rim of my soul like rain. ‘The great blonde moon in the midnight skies Paused and poised o’er the trellis eaves, And the stars, in the light of her upturned eyes, Sifted their love through the rifted leaves— Glinted and splintered in crystal mist Down the glittering strings that her fingers kissed. O the melody mad! O the tinkle and thrill Of the ecstacy of the exquisite thing ! ‘The red rose dropped from the window-sill And lay in a long swoon quivering ; While the dying notes of the strain divine Rippled in glee up my spell-bound spine. J. W. Riney, BOOKISHNESS. A Teutonic professor has published a volume of fiction, and he calls it “ Only a Word.” Probably if he were to write a sentence, he would bring it out ina magazine as a serial. “ ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE ” is the name of the latest volume in the International Scientific Series. It is an imported English book and is therefore wholly deficient in humorous statistics on the heel-power of the Ken- tucky mule. : M. te VicoMTE D'HAussONVILLE has recently put forth in Paris his highly pleasant impressions of these United States. He calls them “A Travers les Etats- Unis.” The stuttering humorist of New York will be pleased to see his name used as a title. ‘THERE. is a book not long published called “Short Sayings of Great Men.” We shall be glad to learn whether or not it contains the short sayings made by Ulysses Simpson Grant when he put the hot end of his cigar in his mouth. If it does contain this short saying, then the volume is unfit for circulation in the Sunday-school classes—while the teacher is look- ing. Tue publishers of the Pudlisher's Weekly have re- cently published (tautalogy ?) a little book called “Books for the Young” (tautology again, but it can’t be helped). Why waste time discussing what are the best books for the young when everybody knows that the best books for young and old—next to Shakespeare and the dictionary—are pocket-books, well lined with greenbacks? These are bound to please. ‘THERE is a new edition of the poetical works of Mr. John Milton now for sale. Mr. Milton was private secretary to Gen. Oliver Cromwell when the latter gentleman was Protector to the Commonwealth of England. It was while holding this position that Mr. Milton gained his intimate knowledge of practical politics, which led him to describe two Henchmen of some local Boss as being “ Thick as thieves in Vallam- brosa.” In the March number of the Adantic Monthly Mr. Harry Jim (if we may be thus familiar) has an essay on the acting of Signor Tomaso Salvini. It is an ex- haustive criticism and almost as exhaustive as the Italian author’s O¢hello. But there is no need to waste words in describing the success in America of this great histrionic artist, for we may adopt and adapt the phrase of his distinguished fellow-citizen, Mr. J. Cesar, and say Sal-vini, vidi, vici. NEW NOVELS. “AN HoNnoRABLE SURRENDER.”—Your money or your life. “Dust."—The result of Walton’s gentle angle in the streets of New York. “Tue Vircinia Comeptans.”—General and the Readjusters. Mahone “THe Siece or Lonpon.”—The Taking of the Tower, by the American novelists. “ A GENTLE SavaGe.”—The best Indian is a dead Indian. A HUE-ER OF WOOD AND A DRAW-ER OF WATER.— The landscape painter. comicbooks.com