Life, 1922-04-06 · page 7 of 38
Life — April 6, 1922 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a poem rather than a political cartoon. Parker's verses mock a frivolous young woman named Myrtilla who struts about on Easter in fancy dress, attracting male admirers. The poem's tone shifts dramatically in the second half—Parker's biting sarcasm becomes clear as she wishes Myrtilla would "break her neck," suggesting the poem is a satirical attack on superficiality and vanity. The elaborate Art Nouveau illustration shows Myrtilla in an ornate Easter bonnet surrounded by admiring gentlemen and spring flowers. Parker uses the contrast between the illustration's romanticized presentation and her caustic verses to critique both feminine vanity and male infatuation with mere appearance—characteristic of Parker's sharp social commentary on 1920s society.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
To Myrtilla, on Easter Day Dorothy Parker MERTILLAS tripping down the street, In Easter finery. The Easter blooms are not more sweet And radiant-hued than she. The rarest woodland violets were Less fragrant than her frills, The sunnytinted hair of her Would shame the daffodils. Ah, many a heart-beat halts and skips, And sighs pursue her way, As down the street Myrtilla trips, This joyous Easter Day. oe Myrtilla’s tripping gaily by, In Easter garb arrayed. Ah, would the lads as deeply sigh For any other maid? The lads, they come from far and near, When down the street she starts; Oh, lightly step, Myrtilla dear,-- Your path is strewn with hearts. The maids are held in envy’s grips, For they are left, forlorn, As down the street Myrtilla trips, This glorious Easter morn. Ah, well may echo, sweet as love, Her laugh’s delicious lilt, For sure she knows the power of Her Easter bonnet’s tilt; A master wrought, with tender care, Each dainty frill and flounce; The fragrance of her, cool and rare, Costs thirty-five per ounce. Parisian rouge defines her lips, And pearls her throat bedeck,— As down the street Myrtilla trips, I hope she breaks her neck! comicbooks.com