Life, 1898-08-18 · page 12 of 20
Life — August 18, 1898 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis This page contains a sketch and essay about "The Clubman," a social type from the Nineteenth Century. The illustration shows a man in a chair conversing with a woman on a sofa—a domestic or social scene. The essay characterizes the Clubman as a distinct human subspecies: a man devoted to club life who is "bold, but man—a real devil" and affects "riotous clothes and mortuary cigarettes." The satire mocks this figure as superficial and self-absorbed, contrasting him with society's essential workers (catering staff, waiters). The joke targets upper-class male idleness and pretense—the Clubman poses as sophisticated and important while contributing nothing valuable. His exaggerated clothing, mannerisms, and complete devotion to leisure mark him as ridiculous rather than admirable to the satirical magazine's readers.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Chicago Daughter: WHO WAS PENBLOPE, MAMMA “PENELOPE WAS A GRECIAN WOMAN, WHOSE HUSBAND, ULYSSES, WAS AWAY POR TIURTY YEARS IN THE TROJAN WAR, DURING HIS ABSENCE SHE HAD MANY SUITORS, BUT SIE REMAINED FAITHFUL TO HER MIUSBAND, AND WAITED PATIENTLY TILL HE RETURNED.” “SURELY THAT MUST BE A MYTH.” The Clubman. HE Clubman is a growth of the Nine- teenth Century, one of a night- blooming series of plants, He is a e-« production, not a creation; and while ‘ certain human instincts in him have survived the ravages of small talk, big calves and Scotch whiskey, they are not abnormal, though they can be dis- tinguished and identified under the microscope. The Clubman must not be confused with the the twoare distinct and different branches of the human species, The former is a satellite in a solar system, in which the clubhouse is the sun and the music halls the constellations; the latter is a normal man, with reasonable excuses for exist- ence, to whom the club is a mere inci- dent iu life. The Clubman wants to be known as the Clubman; he loves to pose as a bold, bad man—a real devil; he is proud of the cloven hoof and the cloven breath; and he affects riotous clothes and mortuary cigarettes. * . . HE Clubman is usually the progeny of a bull ora bear, or some other dull, toiling animal; and each is apt to apologize for the other. He is the legiti- mate corollary of that elaborate system of splurge, vanity and pretentious in- consequence which we call Society; he is a necessary bob on the tail of the social kite; as essential as the caterer and waiter, if not quiteas useful. The Club- man has his points. He is gifted with a large, soft head, an abnorinal palate, an expert knowledge of music-hall ladies with exaggerated underpinning and digestive organs, a wealth of small talk, and a poverty of ideas. He imports his clothes, his ideals, his language, his accent, and his man, and has a dread- comicbooks.com