Life, 1895-01-31 · page 6 of 16
Life — January 31, 1895 — page 6: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 70 This page contains two elements: **Left side:** A theatrical scene from Henrik Ibsen's "Little Wayoff," showing a dialogue between characters Allmers and Rita debating life's meaning and inherited family curses. This appears to be literary commentary rather than political satire. **Right side cartoon:** Titled "Plenty Good Enough," depicts a street scene where a boy (Tom) stands near a restaurant trash bin and a well-dressed man (Mande). The caption jokes about turkey scraps being suitable food for working-class people, with Tom asserting he's "not so Vanderbilt or Astor"—a reference to wealthy industrialist families. The satire targets class inequality and attitudes toward poverty during the Gilded Age.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
- LIFE: LITTLE WAYOFF. TO HENRIK IBS A DOLL'S HOUS ACKNOWLEDGME “LITTLE EYOLF, AUTHOR OF E—A summer house overlooking a Norwegian Fjord. Att- MERS and his wife RITA seated within looking out to sea, and earnestly conversing. LLMERS: You must realize once for all, Rita, that I am seriously afflicted with the disease of the decade— Ibsenism—and you must conform your life to that new con- dition. RIT. malady ? ALLMERS: Ibsenism is the yellow jaundice of the soul. Riva: Horrors! Is there no remedy suggested in all the books of your great library ? ALLMERS (solemnly): None. The peculiarity of the disease is that no one who catches it wants to be cured, Rita: What! Are you content to live the rest of your life seeing things sicklied o'er with a yel- Yes, yes—I'll try, dear. What is this awful Nature you have inherited them all and carry them around in your beautiful body. They are liable to break out at any time, singly or all together. Rita (frightened to death): Save me,;save me dear! Am I truly only a mausoleum for the dead past of my family ? ALLMERS (sternly): You are all that and more too. Nature always adds a few frills to inherited weakness and crime on her own account. By the law of the universe you ought to be a little worse than any of your ancestors. RITA (in despair): That settles it! I don’t want to live any longer. Throw me in the fjord yonder to help feed the pretty fishes along with Little Wayoff. Oh, my boy, my boy, your mother comes to you! (Rushes toward the edge of the cliff). ALLMERS (catching her): Stay! Do you really want to die ? Rita: Yes, believe me, yes!| Who could live in such a world as this! ALLMERS (with a gleam of pleasure in his eyes): Come to my arms, my own love! Now, at last, are you my true soul-mate. Under the shadow of this awful gloom we can go through the world together, doing our little best to thicken the sorrow and despair wherever we find it. This is our destiny. Come. (Embraces her). Riva: And after thirty or forty years of this gloom we may be fitted to join our beloved little Wayoff in another world ? ALLMERS: Perhaps, perhaps! [CuRTAIN.] Droch. low-green light ? ALLMERS: Not only content but glad to doit! The intellect demands this sac- tifice of the man who is truly wise. Riva: But I am naturally of a hope- ful disposition. I love sunshine, and joy, and goud-fellowship. True, I am tem- porarily depressed by the drowning of our only son, Little Wayoff, but I think that in time I might begin to smile again if you would only love me as you used. ALLMERS (¢mpresstvely): Love is the temporary insanity of the emotions! I am sane. Rita: But once you loved me pas- sionately, and we were very happy. ALLME! Yes, yes—happiness is the final expression of insanity. The truly healthy man is never happy. RITA (with resignation): Well, then, I'll try hard to be miserable enough to be a congenial companion for you.- Only tell me the way, ALLMERS: First of all you must rake through the records of the past for all the diseases, crimes, and terrible weaknesses of your ancestors. When you have dis- covered them, carefully ponder over them, for by the immitable Laws of Maude: WOT You kK Tom: SME! TURKEY'S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME. PLENTY GOOD ENOUGH. WOT ARE YER A SNIFFIN’ 0" THAT TURKEY FOR WHEN HERE'S WENISON or? 1 AIN'T NO VANDERBILK OR AsTORS!