Life, 1921-06-02 · page 9 of 44
Life — June 2, 1921 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page features a poem titled "My Grandma's Brew" by Jennie Betts Horowitz celebrating an old family recipe for elder-blossom wine, presented nostalgically as a cherished heirloom. The accompanying cartoon satirizes early 20th-century psychoanalysis. A patient sits with an analyst, and the caption reads: "Psychoanalyst: THE FIRST THING TO DO IS TO REMOVE YOUR COMPLEX. Mrs. Neuroses: OH, DOCTOR, SHALL I HAVE TO TAKE ETHER?" The joke mocks both Freudian psychology's then-new concepts ("complexes," "neuroses") and the patient's literal misunderstanding—she assumes "removing" a complex requires anesthesia like a surgical procedure. This reflects contemporary skepticism about psychoanalysis as pseudoscientific pseudointellectual nonsense, treating psychological problems as absurdly as one might treat physical ailments.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
My Grandma's Brew OMEWHERE, in lavender, is laid, Within a carven coffer's space, My grandma's frock of old brocade, Her cherished fan, her treasured lace; But most I prize that yellowed page Which bears in script, as cobweb fine, An epic of a gentler age— . Her rule for elder-blossom wine. Long, long ago her fingers penned These lines my eager eye beholds— And added neatly at the end A subtle “excellent for colds.” Best relic of my grandame’s day This slender volume now appears; Its contents yield a faint bouquet Disseminated down the years. My spouse extols her Mechlin flounce, Her fan of fragile ivory— 7 sing her heady cherry-bounce— A wonder-written recipe Whose legend in parenthesis With prudence qualifies her skill, Lest carping critics take amiss, “(A glass will oft prevent a chill.)” To you, dear dame, I, grateful, raise An airy goblet, bubble-thin, Accept, these arid nowadays, The plaudits of your thirsty kin How put to more delightful use, In which to pledge your fair renown, The ardent cherry’s limpid juice— The elder-flower’s fragrant crown? Jennie Betts Hartswick. Psychoanalyst: THE FIRST THING TO DO IS TO REMOVE YOUR COMPLEX, Mrs, Neuroses: OH, DOCTOR, SHALL I HAVE TO TAKE ETHER? comicbooks.com