Life, 1919-08-07 · page 41 of 44
Life — August 7, 1919 — page 41: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes the Futurist art movement through a dialogue between the narrator and a character named Mallard, a self-proclaimed "futurist writer" profiting from the trend. The joke: When asked to demonstrate futurism by rewriting a mundane sentence about his Aunt Mary falling downstairs, Mallard produces complete nonsense—"Thunder and lightning, Sodom, Gomorrah...erudite chaos"—that has nothing to do with the original content. The narrator protests this meaninglessness, but Mallard insists the specifics don't matter. **The satire's point:** Futurism is portrayed as pretentious gibberish masquerading as profound art. Mallard embodies the charlatan artist exploiting public fascination with avant-garde movements by producing unintelligible work while claiming deep artistic principle. The narrator's final resort to violence humorously expresses frustration with this intellectual fraud. The accompanying Pantasote automobile advertisement is unrelated editorial content.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
pot you quite a bit of money * “My boy, I'm simply coining it,” he gswered. “Then listen. I've come to con- gatulate you most he rtily; also to squire a little information. Now we uve, as you are aware, futurist ag, futurist music, futurist politics a fourist dances, and whaling in the Gath‘Seas docsn't appear to be in it sa moncy-maker with any of these beful pursuits. How about a futur- it literature?” *A futurist literature,” said Mallard, pening himself, “is all that the world sands in need of at the present mo- mt. For the pioneer futurist writer there’s a mint waiting—an entire mint.” “Very good then,” I said. “A mint alsays comes in handy. Will you, as a futurist and, above all, an old friend, fe so good as to enlighten me, sub rosa you know, as to the fundamental tasis of futurism in its application to all the arts? 1 want to be a futurist writer, but can’t quite catch the gist of the thing. Or, better still—here’s a fittle sentence: ‘My Aunt Mary, weighing two hundred and ten pounds stripped, fell down the staircase and broke her neck.’ Now, Mallard, if you give me the futurist’s rendition of that sentence I may, perhaps, be able to follow all the mental processes in- volved, and, so to speak, get a line on your modus operandi.” “Nothing simpler,” said Mallard comfortably “From = the futurist’s standpoint, I should interpret the con- text in this manner: ‘Thunder and lightning, Sodom, Gomorrah, and the supe B Aurora Borealis, Recurring decimals in a a confit with the cube root and erudite in, MB chaos. Amen.’” Sop Motewal tel FT stared at Mallard, aghast. portray # “But all that’s got absolutely noth- ing whatever to do with my Aunt Mary,” I protested. “My dear chap,” said Mallard, pity- ingly, “ you'll pardon my saying so, but nded se how tt aly be proved by Lang experience. The maters of the san Car, for instance, Rade used exclusively as standard equipment on Hudson care « No top material is tac good for y PIERCE ARROW KSset ot K SCRIPPS BOOTH! ER REO SIX LINWOOD N Look for Pantasote Label Inside the top—it protects you The Pantasote Company Bowling G he mou it really doesn’t matter a continental the whole secret. Good morning.” about your Aunt Mary, That's the I took a chair, hit Mallard over the whole secret.” head with it, and came away feeling > 2 “ Mallard,” I said, “ you owe me fifty very happy. After all, if I haven't the Herbert dollars, and I want the money.” makings of a futurist in me, I always Mallard produced a roll of notes, make it a point to stick up for the and paid me the fifty credit of the family Lo ‘s 2 0 it really doesn’t matter a con- Joseph P. Hanrahan ndon Cigarettes tinental about my Aunt Mary?” I said, picid Tareyton London Smoking Mixture pocketing the money and looking him F a man is going to be a liar, he imple upon request in the eye. might as well get more than a local fobacco Co. Inc., 1786 Broadway, New York | “ Precisely,” said Mallard. “That's reputation comicbooks.com