Life, 1914-05-21 · page 46 of 52
Life — May 21, 1914 — page 46: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three unrelated advertisements and a literary piece: **Advertisements**: Arrow Collar (men's fashion), Indian motorcycle with sidecar, and other products typical of early 20th-century magazines. **Main Content**: "A Soul Flight" by Rabindranath Tagore (Nobel Prize winner), presented as satirical verse. The piece parodies flowery, pretentious literary poetry through absurdist comparisons—a "tenderfoot" (inexperienced person) in New York confuses a "mango forest" with a "tango forest," sees a sunset that's actually "red-headed girls wearing purpose wigs," and beats mango blossoms because they resemble cheap parlor decorations. **The Satire**: Life magazine mocks overwrought, mystical poetry and claims editors need genuine humor. The joke is that Tagore's genuine literary reputation is being used to lampoon exactly the kind of pretentious, nonsensical verse that magazines actually published. The narrator admits editors rejected similar work, reinforcing the critique of avant-garde poetry's incomprehensibility to practical readers.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
COLLAR is an ultra smart style which expresses the trend of fashion 2 for 25 CLUETT, PEABODY & CO. INC. Troy, N.Y. “Makers of ARROW SHIRTS © With Side Car Alt the touring pleasure, comfort and efficiency of an automobile at the cost of trolley fares. That's Indian Side Caring. A spin in a summer's evening. A week-end trip. A coast to coast tour. The Indian Side Car is a comfort vehicle serving your every desire. of the Indian Side eminently. Si jipment doables your mous as the machine motorcycling lun and utility. There is no other . Beauty of desi¢n— — Motor-eehicle in the world providing 20 mach com- ithiness—these fort, healthfal delight and recreative opportunities things characterize an Indian Side Car pre: for so litle cost. The superior featares of the Indian Side Car are fatty set forth in a booklet jast ‘especially covering this one subject. Write for a copy today. Hendee Manufacturing Co., 808 State Street, Springfield, Mass, (Largest Motorcycle Manufactarers in the World) RKANCHES AND SERVICE STATIONS: Chicago alls Kaneae Clty Minneapalte: Denver San Prancisce, Atlanta Be Melbourne 1 | ‘colon | A TENDERFOOT IN NEW YORK A Soul Flight By RasinpraNAtH Becorre. (Winner of the Nobill Prise for Literature.) AM a wild bird skimming the mango forest. I presume a mango forest is like a tango forest. That is why I am keeping out of it. I was caught in a tango forest at the dancing academy last night. Everywhere I looked it was limbs, limbs, limbs. One could not see the forest for the limbs. Skim on, wild bird, the shadows are deepening. I am very sad; I know not why. I must cheer up or the editor will never print my poem. Straight I wing into the fiery heart of the sunset. Lo! it is no sunset af all, but a crowd of red-headed girls wearing purpose wigs. I know not why. I am a wild goose chasing over salt marshes. Gone are the sailors from their golfing. In the twi- light they cannot sce to put, so they have put to sea. At dusk the marsh is an cerie place, somewhat like Paterson. I cannot see why there should be so much alarm over wood alcohol and so little over the other sort. It is sad to be a poet in this iron age, but I thank heaven I am not a male dancer, Yestere’en I heard a maiden singing. Pure her eyes, innocent her brow. Like a white poppy she bloomed by the stiver. But when I heard the words of the street song that she sang, I turned back to the village. Everyone says the magazine editors need humor. T know very well they do, I sent one of them a poem like this and he telephoned to ask if I were ill. The prone shadows reach further across the mustard field. Every time I pass the mustard I feel like weeping. A poem like this looks nice if set in Jensen old style, about sixteen point, with an initial letter in two colors and a vine border. I am a wild bird skimming the forest. The mango blossoms fall upon the dust. They look so like the paper carnations in everybody's parlor that I beat them with my wings. I know not why. L. H. Robbins. comicbooks.com