Life, 1925-01-22 · page 14 of 36
Life — January 22, 1925 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three separate satirical pieces: 1. **"Song of Perfect Propriety"** by Dorothy Parker: A poem mocking women's constrained social roles. It contrasts what the speaker desires (adventure, dancing, commanding slaves) with her actual life writing "little songs, / As little ladies do"—satirizing how women were expected to limit their ambitions. 2. **"The Tragedy of an Ex-Clubman"** by Howard Dietz: A piece about a man who quit his club and now struggles with enforced propriety—no longer able to receive communications, schedule meetings, or conduct his former life. The satire targets how club membership structured social/professional identity for men. 3. **"Unthinkable"**: A brief joke about laughing and weight gain, with an illustration of tied-up figures at a conference table.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
:* LIFE » Indignant Better Half: Wett, WILLIAM SWONKs, IF THAT AIN'T TH’ LAST STRAW! HERE 1 GET YOU ALL NICE AN’ INSURED, AN’ YOU GO AN’ BUY A GOOD-LUCK RING. The Tragedy of an Ex-Clubman ‘O far so good. I have kept my New Year's resolution. I have joined no clubs. I have not become an Adven- turer, a Player, a Coffee Drinker, an Explorer, a Detective, a Yachtsman or an Interior Decorator. I take my lunch in any chophouse or saloon that happens. Of course, there are penalties. I have no longer “a man’s retreat,” which is neither office nor home, where I can reecive select communications. I am not able to say, “So long, old man, see you later at the club,” nor can I play squash on any scheduled after- noon in the far future. There are no bulletin boards for me to scan. And I have to buy my own magazines. Yes, there are many temptations, I will admit. But each night I pray that I will not give in. For I know my own weakness....I know how people regard me....I know that, if I join any club, no matter what, I am sure to be elected secretary. Howard Dietz. F the day-dreamers were placed end to end, it would not affect their output. Mrs. Die and laugh! Song of Perfect Propriety H, I should like to ride the seas, A roaring buccaneer ; A cutlass banging at my knees, A dirk behind my ear. And when my captives’ chains would clank I'd howl with glee and drink, And then fling out the quivering plank And watch the beggars sink. I'd like to straddle gory decks, And dig in laden sands, And know the feel of throbbing necks Between my knotted hands. Oh, I should like to strut and curse Among my blackguard crew.... But I am writing little verse, As little ladies do. Oh, I should like to dance and laugh And pose and preen and sway, And rip the hearts of men in half, And toss the bits away. I'd like to view the reeling years Through unastonished ey And lave my finger-tips in tears, And give my smiles for sighs. I'd stroll beyond the ancient bounds, And tap at fastened gates, And hear the prettiest of sounds,— The clink of shattered fates. My slaves I'd like to bind with thongs That cut and burn and chill... But I am writing little songs, As little ladies will. Dorothy Parker. Unthinkable RS. SCALES: Scientists say that we really laugh and grow fat. Of course! No one would grow fat ALL TIED UP IN A CONFERENCE, comicbooks.com