Life, 1890-11-20 · page 8 of 24
Life — November 20, 1890 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Mythology for Moderns: Sappho" This page presents a satirical piece about Sappho, the ancient Greek poetess, reimagined for modern times. The article humorously depicts Sappho as a passionate but impractical poet living in Athens, regularly treated to cheese sandwiches by an admiring "secular editor" named Phaon at 11 PM dinners where he'd listen to her poetry. The satire mocks both Sappho's romantic, sensitive nature and the impoverished "bohemian" lifestyle of modern poets and artists. The accompanying decorative illustrations show classical figures in ornate frames. A sign posted by her landlord banning "beggars, peddlers and prostitutes" suggests the satirical conflation of struggling artists with society's lower classes—a commentary on how modern artistic life was viewed as disreputable or economically precarious.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
MYTHOLOGY FOR MODERNS. SAPPHO. Sis APPHO was a poctess of passion who, some twenty-five hundred years ago, was regularly fired out of the editorial rooms of Athens. Phaon was the editor of a religious weekly, who, when Sappho had deluded some secular editor into buying one of her poems, would, at her expense, eat cheese sandwiches with her at 11 o'clock at night, and talk about the Aspi- rations of his Soul. Sappho liked to hear Phaon talk about the Aspirations of his Soul, In fact, she loved Phaon, and twaddle from wisdom in her ears. In her milder verse she used to allude to him as follows his lips was Oh, youth of slend’rous mould and bistrine eye, Whose pulse to my pulse bringseth ecstacy. Yum, yum, terarum, kiss me, sweet. Aye, aye. Back blood, back heart, nor hold me prone, For he is mine, my own, my ownest own, Yum, yum, terarum, kiss, kiss, kiss again. Oh, bliss. Flushed cheeks and gurgling eyes to mine close pressed, What care I now who sayseth give us rest. Yum, yum, terarum, hug closer, squeeze, caress. There are only a few of us left. But Phaon had some common sense. When all the Athenian jour- nals became long on erotic poetry, and that product was a drug in the market, the cheese sandwich sprees were of less frequent occurrence. Phaon began tofight shy of Sappho. She, however, continued to hang around the front of the buildiug where he edited the sermons of country clergymen at three sestertia an edit. Finally she became such a nuisance to the other tenants in the building, that the landiord had the following sign placed on the front door: PEDDLERS AND EROTIC POETESSE. NOT ALLOWED ON PREMISES. THESE To an erotic poetess with a sensitive and clinging nature like Sappho's this was a cruel blow, To be sure her sa/om was a great success, and was frequented by a large number of Athenians, who thought that because they went regularly to Sappho's flat and gorged themselves with lemonade and ladyfingers they had gained a foothold in the literary set. But without Phaon even this glory lost its savor, Life had become a cocktail without the bitters. Therefore she took out an accident policy on her life in the sum of 3,000 talents, and after making a careful toilet betook herself to the cliff of Leucadia. The peculiarity of this cliff was, that any lover who jumped from it would either be cured of the love of become food for a coroner's jury. Sappho jumped, and was cured of her love for Phaon, The undertaker remarked that he had seldom laid out a lovelier remains. Phaon col- lected the insurance, set up a dog-cart, and on pleasant Sundays and half-holidays was wont to drive out past Sappho's tomb on his way to visit a young lady who had written a novel which had the good luck to be excluded from the mails by the Post-Master General of Greece. Metcalfe. comicbooks.com