Life, 1916-06-29 · page 16 of 41
Life — June 29, 1916 — page 16: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a two-part satirical piece mocking pretentious artists and impractical doctors. **Upper story**: A pompous author named Castlemaine lectures a Countess about art imitating nature—while repeatedly pouring himself whiskey and soda. The joke escalates as both characters drink increasingly, their speech deteriorates ("T'd busht 'is bean"), and they become oblivious drunk. The satire targets authors of the "Dipsomaniac School" (literally alcohol-obsessed writers) who produce high-minded artistic philosophy while being functional alcoholics. The irony: Castlemaine proves art *does* imitate nature—specifically, natural human degradation. **Lower section ("The Pursuit of the Impossible")**: A separate editorial mocks doctors for seeking medical solutions to social problems. It argues their "serums" are futile because poor health results from bad living conditions (tenements, factories, adulterated food), not curable disease. Doctors chase impossible cures rather than addressing actual causes—like making "kerosene calm in a fiery furnace." Both pieces critique professional pretension masking futility.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Ruined by Realism Regrettable Experience of a Poor Author of the “ Dipsomaniac School” "ART" continued Castlemaine in his delightfully serious way, pouring himself a whiskey and soda, “Art, I say, do. s not imitate Nature. Rather Nature imitates Art The truth is that Nature tries to be an artist and fails.” The Countess poured herself a whiskey and soda before replying. “We can’t all be artists, you kno she said, a little flippantly. Castlemaine smiled for the first time and helped himself to the whiskey and soda. “ You are right,” he said. “No doubt I take the subject too seriously. What I mean is that we artists, you know—” The Countess, who had just poured herself a whiskey and soda, raised her eyebrows in a comical affectation of horror, “For goodness’ sake,” she cried, “how should I know anything about you artists?” Castlemaine’s expression, as he helped himself to the whiskey and soda, showed more than a trace of irritation. “Pardon me, Lady Bleeckerton,” he said, {1 am accus- tomed to regard my calling with respect, and it had not occurred to me that you would view it in another light.” Lady Bleeckerton finished pouring herself a whiskey and “Don't be an ass, Castle- soda hefore she answered. maine!” was all she said, “Madame,” said Castlemaine, nervously pouring himself a whiskey and soda, “if any man were to be so pre- sumptuous as to address such an observation to me, I would make him rue it.” I her attention to the whiskey and The Countess gave a - extremes, “HOW MANY MILES CAN YOU GO ON A GALLON?” “HOW MANY CAN you?” “1 ASKED YOU FIRST.” ‘LIFE: ABOUT TO BUST “ SOMEWHERE IN EUROPE” soda which she was just pouring. “ Well, wha’d you do, Cassy?” she asked at length. “T'd busht ‘is bean!" declared Castlemaine, absently pouring a whiskey and soda. “Puppyounartish!” retorted the Countess, pouring a whiskey and soda—mostly on the rug. ery shorry. Mush 'polgizhe!” (Has another.) Sh all right. Forget it.” (Ditto.) Vacancy. Oblivion, (Advice to Authors—Use it yourselves, but if you have the stuff around where your fashionable characters can get it, you know what to expect.) The Pursuit of the Impossible ie is to laugh at the doctors with their silly little serums. The pursuit of the Impossible is their greatest delight They are constantly hunting and experimenting in an en- deavor to find something which can never be. They fondly and foolishly imagine that if they can only find a certain something to inject into human beings, those human beings can go on forever violating the natural and casily discoverable laws of health, can go on with im- punity living in filthy tenements, or working in unsani- ary factories, or eating adulterated food, or overindulging or undersleeping. Alas! the poor doctors. They might just as well be looking for a code of ethics that will make kerosene be calm in a fiery furnace or bananas grow at the North Pole. comicbooks.com