Life, 1893-01-05 · page 8 of 60
Life — January 5, 1893 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of "Life" Magazine Page This page presents a satirical poem titled "Life" alongside an elaborate illustration depicting various social types and activities. The poem catalogs the diverse pursuits and characters that comprise urban society—from wealthy competitors and street life to politicians, fortune-hunters, and working-class figures. The accompanying illustration functions as visual satire, showing a crowded, chaotic scene of different social classes and professions intermingling. The dense composition emphasizes the interconnectedness and absurdity of contemporary society. The poem's concluding stanzas address "Life" itself as a vital force, crediting it with inspiring philanthropy and cultural institutions (mentioning Gotham's Museum). The overall effect mocks the pretensions and contradictions of late-19th/early-20th-century American society while celebrating its vibrant complexity.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
6 ‘The joys ornate in which the rich compete ; The simple pastimes of a Thompson street ; Shanty-bred Romeo's high-flown speeches poured Into the infant ears of h's adored ; Cesnola’s fragments joined with too much skill: The summer-girl, by ennui driven to kill Too sluggish hours by stirring with her fan The smouldering passion of the casual man ; ‘The Sabbatarian, aye obtusely prone ‘To estimate the Lord's day as his own; ‘The anxious tests the newly married make To learn what course two lives when lumped must take In all his uses in recurring course That dearest quadruped to man, the hor: Dudes, chappies, flunkies, bishops, statesmen, sports ; Brusque millionaires ; professors of all sorts; Managing matrons, doctors, perfect dears ; Prudes, politicians, fortune-hunting peers ; Prigs, flirts, small boys chock full of devilment ; Wrong-headed folks who err with good intent: Policemen, parsons, all the recurring train That cross the boards of time, and come aga, While down in front in strongest light confer The score-score stars of the McAllister. Dear hundred thousand friends to whom Lik owes ‘The vital force by which it lives and grows, Your prompt support its infant steps that propped And never since has wavered, much less stopped, Is still its best possession—its very self, Since when that ceases LiFE goes on the shelf. For any good LiF& has availed to do, The lion’s share of praise belongs to you. “Twas you that opened Gotham’s Museum's door And helped make Sunday useful to the poor ; ‘Twas you, last summer, and your fostering care, That gave, through Lire, four thousand babes fresh air Your laugh has turned purse-proud Assumption pale, Your scornful eyes have seen Imposture quail, comicbooks.com