THE ANATO},{Y OF
SATIRE BY GILBERT HIGHET
PR'NCETON, NEW JERSEY PRINCEl'ON UNIVERSI Y
PRtrSS
CONTENTS I. INTRODUCTION satire is not the greatest form of literature but one ot the most energetic and memorable 3
E ramples of satire:
or tranc
Monologue: Juvenal Parody: Pope on the Dark Age Narrative: Voltaire on optimism These are the thrce main pattems of satire
3 13 3
b 8
r3-r1
How to aletermine wheiher a work is satire or 14'23
The author names his genus The author quotes a satiric pedigree Thc rurlror Lhoo(Fs J rladitionall) ,rriri. subjecr
The author quotes an €arlier satirist The theme h concrete, personal, topical The vocabulary is forcibie and the texture varied Typical satiric devices ar€ used The satiric emotion i, pr€sent
r5 r6 r6 r6 r6 r8 r8
II. DIATRIBE
24-66
r. TJI E SATIRIST'S IfONOLOCUE The beginnings oI satire in Rome: Lucilius and Horace
2+52
The satiri. \pi'ir in CrFe,e: Old Comedy Bion of Borysthenes Philosophical c ticism Personal abuse Social satire
2b 25
3o 35 37 38
qONTENTS
ltoN7tN7S
Satirc as the monologue of rhe satirjstl Rome: Lucilius, HoIace, Pcrsius,
Juvenal, Claudian Greece: Lucian, Jul;an the Aposlate Dark Age and MidcUe Age Itenaissance and Baroque N{odern tim€s: Byron, Hugo, Campbclt,
44 47 48
5r-66
Sxtire as the monologue of the victim: EIasmus, Browning
5r
Satire as an ironic monolomei
55
Swifts xlod.st p, o p'o'o I
5i 6r
Satirc
as a
prearranged diatogue
6?
lnhovert :rnd extravert monologucs
III.
PARODY
Titi^t
Laocoon Musical parodies
4\
and contemporaries
V
The Battl€ ol Frogs and. Mice Byront r/irion ol ludgnent
39
rf
a
Wordsworth and
haek TtugedJ
73
'i5
t6 Q_ueet1
71
self -parody
78
ro5
Swift, De Calliires, r'ielding
ro8 r09 r09
Joyce's Urysrer
109
Scauo\'s
^
Y er
gil T ra,
estie
d
Voltaire's Maid. of Orleans
rr3 Petronius's ,tdirira Rabelais and Ariosto
Cet\t^ntes' Don Quixote
BluLlet's Hudibras
2. PARODY 80
parodies:
,o5,47
Tassoti's RaFe ol the Bucket
69
to the United. Nations
Form and maner inrerpenetrare in mosr good
99
Dryden's Absalom and. Achitophel and. Mac Ilecknae Pope's Rafe ol the Lock and Dunciad
P' ayer
Atraham a Sancta Clara Laboucheres God Saft the
98
Hya(inthe MaRlrnovitcb
Lucilius and Juvenal Battles of rnim'ls Boile ns Le.tcrn
69
Pegl€r: n4)' Da) Stand.ard Speech
94
6b
possible !o distingnish formal parod), from matcrial parodv:
Hol) Ilillie's
92 93 97
"n?Pa& 4, TYPES OF LITNR^RY PARODY Mock"heroic and burlesque Pamdies oI difierent literary forms:
61-147
FlotNman's aragnel,i
92 ro3
Romaint
it is
Bums's
9o
Rabelais' propheci€s , .Swift and Parrridee
"
83
89
3, THE HOAX -A. S SATTRE Montgomery's double The Captain of Kitpenick The "Dreadnought" hoax
I. PARODY AND MIMICRY 6i'8o Parody di[ers lrom distortion and imiradoD bv ns intenLion ard its eilecr 67 Sometimes
s
8o
9, Arhtophanes
The phryahes Fielding s Tom Thumb the Great
r14 1r5
Ir6 r19
CON?EN?S OUT OF TT,IIS WORLD
CONTEN?S Shelte y's
O
e
diqus Ty r annus
Beerbohm s " Sannarola" Broun Shakespeare\ Ttoilus and Cressida G^y's Beggafs OPetu cilbert and Sullivan "Mym Buttle" 's Suddrlidd
Swift's Gullhrer's
r2.N
de Hauteville Jern "Butler's
Man ol Many
1,5
Sonows
VerSil
'_,.swift The Anti-Jacobin Rejected Addre'"es Calverley and Swinburnc Wilson's Omd,el of A. MacLeish : Pla.o's Mene'Nenus L.ttef ol Obscure Men The MeniqPean Satire Knox's Ersdrs tn Satire tryrbt'g ,l
d
dress
162
r6r
'32 r32
Sene.n s
r33 r33 r3+ r35
1. SATIRE AND TRUTIiI Narrative is the third main folrl ol sarire The neighbors of satire: Invective and tamPoon "FIYting" Comedy and farce The shapes oi satidcal narrative
' rii
.
Punrkinihatton of claudius
Quevedot ,!'lo]taile's
r65 161 168
ririoflr
r69
Mi.ronegas
'36 156
Orw ell's N ine teen Ei ghtY'F our
Iltxley's APe an.l, E worltl Il[\ley's Braw Neu 'cnce
'38 r4o r42
Mayakolsky's .Brd6rg
r,t5 r46 r47
11-4
r14
11!
rt5 r76 t11.19o
3. ANIMAL
TALES Rqna . the Fox Nigel's Footu' Mt'aot The Ptisonefs Exit
\pntefts' M e tan
l4a-230
otqh
rt8 \19 r8o os es
Houyhnhnms / lwiftt Fnnce s PenTuin Island Orwell's Animal Farm
r48-r59 118
r5r
'56
Mtn.Ia,s?u
Cartoll's Al;cc L,rciar.'s Trup HistotY
t41
r51
r73
115
Raspe's
r43
r5r t52
tll
Bellamy and Wells
r37
143
r.i. THE DIsToRTING V' \lrRRoR
'63 '63 r64
g-P at t y 1 \'ria'r.'s D t in kin
in Eisenhouese 43
Fietdinl's I ose P h An * eu s H.atre s Condensed Nolels Ree\bohm's C hristmat Gar lan d Fadiman on IVoUe De Vries on laulkner
t6o 16r
MeDippus Ariosto and Milton Rabelais Epistemon
r3r Aristophanes and the young Chaucer's str rlofar
r59 r59 16r
1?9
Padnit .Da)
G?
s
nrranot? Maurois lrricoler More and Rabelai,
1,8
Jensen's
Traw&
123
I59'I?7
I'
Aristophanes' B;rdr and fi/arPs 'Ihe aapeks' Ins€ct comedy tonescos Rhino.eros Peacock's Sir Oran Haut-Ton Collier's His ttonkey W;f e
. xi)i
'
r8r '8s '8,{ r85 r8?
'87 '89 r89
CON?'N?S +
CONTLNTS
DISTORTDD Flatbett
s
Bouuard. and.
Pldt.h"t
Wavgh's Declhe and FaIl Lewis, Peaco.k, Huxtey IIccarthy and Ja ell
r9o:()6 r9r
Brant's ShiP af raok ltoc.accio's Coutbash Lucretius, lloiteau, Swifi on $omcn Hogarth's Gin Lane"
r93
?,6 ?,8
r96
r96
v. coNCLltstoN
231-244
1
r98 Dickens
Pichtuich Pdpers Waugh s S.o/i l(rrg r ,4Iadptn Eu take
,98
Cer\rD[es
r99
s
ron o,t\./P
Grinrmehhausenis
Bfton
t
S
r99
imp Uciss;mus
Dan luan
Linklater's luan in Ameri.a waugh's B1d.li Mischiel and 'rhe Lourt
lctters
5. THE STRUCTURtr OI SATTRTC STORIf,S AND PLAYS Episod;c: ?rl O!rlglasr Improbable: Romains' ,r. ,(zo.t
205
,o6-er3
ielding
s
I onathan
I"SCRI?TIVE
W
ikl. the Creat
SATIRE
Pctronitx\ Banqr?f of Ttimabhio R€gnier and Boileau Dickens, Waugh, Prousr
238
Personal grudges
inferiori!y and injustice Wish to amend vice and folly D€sire to make an aesthetic pattcrn Idealism sense of
241
,08
245 247
AND ,r3-2r9 Gibbot\'s Decline and Lall af the RDnan
F
235
Motivcs of die satirist:
6. IIISTORY
Strtcltef 's Emin ent V ict orians Le Sage's Ctl Blas Mottet's Hajji Baba al Ispahan
,33:38
r38 r43
Shocking: Rabelajs' Panurae Comical: Petroniuss SatyrlTa
EntPire
fie $ord "satire"
Satire tel1s the truth; but $'hich trulh? Two iypes of satirist
Florac€k journ€y to Brindisi
Nfontesquieu's Psrrtan
Meaning of
er3
?t6 2r8
2t8
rr8 ?r9-r3o
-278
279-2ar 2a3,301
INTRODUCTION
,1"?
\qt t , '* L is nor rlrc grrdr.'r rltc ol I;rcrarure. lt can- e/'J ,'ol, in 'Dirc ol rhc /mbiriou.,laims of one ot irs \f -^,.*.ri*l Lyagii d,ama and epic poerry.' Srill. it
is one of the most original, chaUenging, and memonble liorms.lli has been practiccd by some energetic mindsVoltaiie, Rabelais, Petroniu$, Suift; by some exquisitely graceful stylists Pope, Homcc, Aristophanes; and occa-
$ionally, as a parergon, by some great geniuses--Lucretius, Coethe, Shakespeare. It pictures real men and women, otten in lurid colors, but always with unforgettable clarity. It uses the bold and vilid language of its o n time, esch€wing stale clich6s and dead conventions. Where other patt(rns oI literaaure tend sometimes ro be formal and remote, '' $,.1[1_e_ilLe-e,._9+ly* q+d" dtggq- Where they use carefully lDscd models and rvork in a skillfully lighted s.udio, the s lirist cries, "I am a cameral I am a tape recorderl" If the results'$'hich he ollers us are not alrvays smooth wirh the tontours of perfect art, and if their tints are not harmoni, r)lrsly blended, they at least have th€ urgency and imme(liacy o{ actual life. In the rvork of the finest satidsts there
h dre minimum of colvention, the maximum of realiry. To
discover what satire is and what shap€s ia takes, the best rvay is to look at some good satirists, dealing with thcmes lehich rve regard as important.
Irirst, consider the problem of trafrc in the big citt doscribed by the Roman poet Tuvenal. To most o{ us loday, the streets jammed i'ith crowds and vehicles are tncrcly one more annoyance in our irksome lives, an incvimble price to pay for metropolitan luxury. IVe scarcely rcllize that thc infuriaring frustrations oI tmmc, by mal, lrculing our emotions, are injuring our health, and that the
j,.i,,'r ' .
r
INT&ODUCAlON belched from a million motors
are shorLening the int€rnal comthe age of before our lives. Juvenal lived
noxious
gases
bustion engine and the motor-horn; bu! he knew that megalopotitan rraBic w.rs more rlran a mere inr on!(nien'ei and so, although speakingin a tone of wry humort.he began his descdpdon of the trafrc problem in ancient Rome with chronic illness, and ended ii with violent deatll This is an excerpt from his third satire, in which a man who is leaving the city of Rome forever describes the abuses hich are ddving him away. (A few details have been modernized in the translation, in order to reproduce the intensely topical tone of the odginal.) Most sick men here die flom insonnia though first their illness starts with undigested food, lhal clogs the burning stomach. Who can cver sleeP in a renred aparrment? Pea,Frul r,L ic (orl\ in rh".irv rhere is the root of our sickne$: heavy buses squ€ezing through narrow twisted streels, and the .utscs of stalled rvould break a dcaf man's sleep, or kceP a wahus awake. To make a morning call, th€ millionaire js driv€n ed'il) rhrouglt rh" ' rosd' in hi' long limor'ine. reading his paper en roule, or w ting-yes, or slecping, for warmth and closed windows invite him to take a naPj yet he'll be carll. I kceP pretsing, but I ln tllo.led by a mighty surge in tront, my hiPs are squeezed bl thc shoving behind, an etbow hits me here and a fender there, now I am banged by a bean, now bified by a barrcl. NIy legs are thick with mud, a bauage of coarse shocs bunts me, upon my toe a soldier s boot stands fast- . . My n€wly mended coat is riPPed with a flick from a log ioeeling upon a truck; ncxt comes a h€avy girder suspended on a tmiler, poised like a threat of doom: tor if rhe a\le b.n.ath a lold ol heav) granire snaps, and pou$ out a rcckslide on the moving horde, wh;t will be left of their bodies? Bones and flesh alike
.4
TNTRODUCTION wlll {li$rpPcar. The poor viciims' corPses lvill vanish rrn
rltlcrlY
as
their soulslt
grucsome Picrure. And yel, in a grim way, funny' his Wlrcrr the ambulance arrives, Lhe interne will write on Iorn D.O.A., rvhich stands not for the clrstomary "Dead On Arrival," bu( for "DisaPpeared. Oblirerared- Annihilated"' Al(1, although exaggerated, there is a truth in this satire' I'mllic is toJ much rvi*r us, late and soon; it is corroding olrr newcs and amicdng our health; and, one of these days' lrtllc(s wc escape, iL will cru'h us olrr o[ exislence lo lhis ire: ar)caimcn we r;, ogniTe I he ( har a' Ier i'l i' fearur e' ot sat /li ir Lopicut; ir .laim' to be realirric ralrhouqh it is usL'all) 'exrrgliiiGd or di.torred): I' i. 'IofLiler ir i" informal: nrrri' ialthough o{ten in a grotesque or Painful manner)-it h funny-. And this is on€ of the tyPical forms.assqmed.by
A
tlllirc:
a
virtuallb-yi!h-olr! illErr"plio" i.iilloi t ims.tt, or a moufiPiece of the s
r\norher sacirist treats a more important theme in a difl'(rcnt an.l more ambitious manner. The history of the Irrl|nan race is a strange succession of light and darkness lllicf and exciting rhe bright periods usually are, long and rl l)born the yea$ of obscurity ln the life of our world one (,1 [h€ gloomiest ePochs was the Dark Age of ignorance ntrd barbarism that closed in after the fall of the western Itornan Empile. Libraries rvere destroyed Schools and univcr$ities diminished or disaPpeared. The sciences were lor:skills or rude crafisl{,l.tcn. The alts shrank to miniature to sor{id hamtorvns of villages' groups llitics dlvindled to less dumerous Ixcorning It N. The population fell away, nnd more gr;ss. lllireracy and suPerslition floudshed in a worlrt made up of rvarring Ldbes, 1on€ly settlemen$, and lrrrnclcs di'pl,,ed penons Monarchr 'ould nor \1'rire: rrcntly all laym.n rvere r.rnable ro read AlrFr long being
'5.
ia
,
r,..1
lNTRODUCTION prosperous and highly civilized, western Europe sank back into half a millennium of pov€rry, ignorance, and oPPr€s' sion, only to emerge in the twelfth century oI our €r:a, and then with vast dimculty and painful efiort. Today, when we recall the hideous devastation caused by th€ Second World war, and realize with horror that the next will be still more destructive, we can easily, too easilt imagile our
grandchildreat grandchildren half-barbarized, sruggling for a bare exlstence among ruins and deserts, reduced to Ihe life of prjm;rilc man, solitary Poor, na\ty bruri(h, and
shorr.,,s ttp1.r7.1 lr1.,r)! ar.'
,. Alexander Pope, like most intelligent men of the eighteenth century, lpoked back on that early time of troubles {'ith revulsion. In his most ambitious satlre, The Dunciad, he rvent so far as to forecast the imminena coming of a new Dark Age, brought on not by war but by the infectious spread of human pride, selfishness, and stupidity; and he made his chiel victim, pe$onifying all these vices, glory in a vision of past ignorance Fiumphing both in Rome and
in Rrit.inLol Rome hers€]| proud mistres, no$, no more of arts, but thundering againsr heathen lore: Her grey haired synods damning books unread, And Bacon trcmbling {or his bnzen head. Padua, r'ith sighs, beholds her Livy burn, And evpn rhe rnripode\ Virgilius mou,n. Se€ the cirque {alls, dre unpillared temple nods, Street! paved with heroes, Tiber choked with gods: Till Petert keys some ch sren€d Jove adorn, And Pan to Moses lends his pagan horn; See graceless venus to a virgin tumed, Or Phidias broken, and Ap€lles burn€d. Behold, yon isle, by palmers, pilg ms trod, Men beaded, baid, cowled, uncowled, shod, unshod, Peeicd, patched, gnd piebald, linsey-woolsey brothers, Grave mummersl sleeveless some, and shirtless others.
That once was Bdtain.'
.6.
INTRODUCAION Although Pope ivas a Roman Catholic, he t\..rites here ln terms which anticipat€ Gibbon's famous epigram, "the S,ocll r..r' ord f.rii Lrlumph of Barbarism and Religion."s But these lines are q l.|!., slq,i,,'!, i '$,rp.rra, nol uttered by the satirist himseu. They are part of a long proph€tic speech d€livered by rhe spirit oI a dead poet, Itlmsell a champion of Dulness, to the hero of the poem,
lll a vision of Elysium. Every reader who knows ahe classics will at once recognize that this speech is a parody of one of thc greatest speeches in Larin poetry: rhe address of the dctrd Anchises, in Elysium, to his son Aeneas. The main (tnlception is the same in both: a prophecy of a rvorld wide clnl)ire, lo be brought into being by the efiorts of the hero lrnder the protection of a guardian dcity, and sustain€d by tlllghty champions who, still waitirg ro be born, pass before Itiu in a magnificent procession. Feature aftcr fearure re(lnlls the sixth book of rhe Aeneid.: the hero is led by a Slbyl; he sees the souls of the unborn, multitudinous as l)ccs, moving by the river of Lede; the mysrical doctrine o( lransmigration is imparted to hin; Irom a hilltop he is ihown the heroes of his race. IIowever, the rhemes of rhe lwo passages are dissimilar, indeed .ontraposed. The subject (tr the.,prophecy in the lzreid is the rise of Roman civilizalfor. tThe subject of the prophecy i\ The Dunciad is, in l,0rt at least, the reverse: the invasion, 6rst of ancienr, and thcn of modern, civilization by the forces of srupidity. The lotnrer is spoken by a majesaic figlrre, the spidL of Aeneas,s lnther norv endorved rvirh preternatural $isdom; rhe latrer, Ity n .ridiculous personage, the third-rate poet Elkanah ,1rl1le,\
lly
his broad shoulders known, and tcngrtr of ears..
N0verrlreless, the tone of rhe specch in The Dunc;ad is glllvc and at rimes enraptured, although its subjecr is botlr Iltttllrd and repellent. This is a ine example o[ the secoud lllnIl pattern of $adric rvriting: paro
INTRODUCTION I-rom the problem of the city sufiering from vehiculat thrombosis, and the problem of irrepressible human stupidity, let us turn to a third, much older and more formi dable, r'hich has been handled by one of the gr€atest sadrisrs ol all. Thir is rhe problem ol provideni e: r he que.r ion
hol!'Ihi\ $orld i',on''ri.red u
g""e'iid. Everpvhere and experience evil. day we live, we sec we look, every PaiI ancl sullerirrg seem to be built iDto the very structur:e of the universe. Look through the microscope al the tiniest of living things: they are as savage and cunning as sharks, or leopards, or Inen. Gaze backward at the physical history of this planet, and see what appea$ to be a long series of meaningless catastrophes. Think of human history: con' sider what horrors men have inflicted on one another, and what crimes they are preparing even norv to commit. Ob' selve the natural disasters-{loods, famines, earthquakes, epidemics which visit us ar irrational intervals, as thorgh the lour Ilorsemen of the Apocalypse lvere forever riding arornd the planet. Can we confrdently say that this world is good? Can we easily believe thn. ir was created so that we should be happy in it? Can we call its almost ubiquitous evil mer€ly negative, or incidental, or illu$oryt For these questions, religions which depend on faifi have their own answers. But philosophers also have endcavored to solve them. One philosopher devised an ingenious ansrver. Unable to say that the $'orld was flarvlessly good, yet eager to asset that i! r{as systemaaically and intelligibly constructed, Gordried Leibniz argued thal, while other types of rvorldorder are thinkable, this which we inhabir ;t, t{ith all its apparent imperfecLions, the best possible $'orld. An omnipotent creator could have brought many olh€r kinds of unive$e inLo existence; but they wo[ld logically l]ave suffered from more and greater: peccancies. As long as human life jogged on rvith no more than its customary quotient of suffering, this declaration might not
.8.
INTRADUCTION cvoke any more lhan a puzzled smile or a logic_choPping rlcbate. Bur aborrr forrl ycrr. rtrer i.r cmi*ion an unueually violent and apparently inexplicable disasrer occulred. The city of Lisbon was almost &'holly destroyed by a tremendous earthc}rake, follorved by a tidal wave and by lire. Many thousands of innocent People ere killed ln an instant, buried alive, or roasted to death. Here was the opportunity for a satirist-not to gloat over the sufierlngs of the victims, bur to point out the ludicrous inadequacy of the philosopher who asserted that they lived, and dicd, in the best of all possible rvorlds. In 1759 Voltaire published Cardirla Once upon a time, he t€lls us, there 1^'as a decent young llellow who had been taoght, by an expert in metaphysico-
tIcologocosmolonigology, that the leorld-order was intelli" Uible, logical, and, philosophicatly speaking, the best of lll possible world-orde.s- His name was Candide, rvhich nlcans Ingenuous, so he bclieved this lheory. He was born in a castle in Germany; he was €xiled llhen only about twcnty; he nevcr saw his home agah, but became a "dis' l)hced person" and ended his days on a snall subsistence' Irrrm in Turkey. Betwe€n those t\vo terminals, he traveled Itnll round the world, became fabulously rich and miserably poor, rvas imprisoned, torlured, threatened a hundred tlnlcs wirh death; he saw his pretly young sweethearl (lrnged into a bitrer old hag, and the philosopher who had lIughr him the doctrine of optimism turn into a miserable rclic of humanity, like one of dre ghasdy figures who ap'tlere liberD(lrcd when rhe German concentration-camps until the very {ld(I, And yea Candide continued, almost r (1, to believc the metaphysicotheologocosmolonigological lhcory that ererythiDg fell olrt for the best in this 'orld, llld that this rvas the besr of all possible worlds. lr is unnecessary to summarize this brilliant satirical lnl(, but a fe of its episodes rvill show its sPecial quality.
'9.
INTRODUCTION On a business trip, Candide is shiprvrecked. (Nowadays he ('ould be in an airplane *here one of the passengers rl'as carrying a heavy b elcase, rvhich ticked.) He swims asholc cliuging to a plank and lands on the coast of Portugal. Exhausted and famishcd, he walks into Lisbon, alriving just in time for the earfiquake. He survives; but, beca se he is overhead discussing the philosophical incvitability oI the disastcr, he is arrested by rhe Floly Inquisition, and, to the sound of hymns, flogged. Anorher catthquake shock follo$,s. Candide is unexpectedly rescucd
by an old woman, $'ho proves to be rhe se ant of his s('eetheart Cundgonde. Learning that Cun€gonde, no longer a niden, is shared by t o lovers, a Jewish banker and the Grand Inquisilor, he kills them borh ard escapes to Solrrh ,\merica. A littlc larer he is caprured by a rribe of Indians fi,ho prepare to cook and eat trim. (He made fte mistake of shooting nvo apes rvho irere chasing a pair of Indian girls, and were irr fact the girls'sweerhearrs.) A little later again he reaches trldorado, whiclr he leaves *'irh an immense fortune in gold ancl jewels (the dirt and pebbles of that country); a little later still, his rverlrh it stolen by a Durch sea'captain; and so it goes. Compared with the advenrures of Candide, the exploirs of the farwandering and much-experienced hcro Odysseus rvere mild and humdrum. The story of Cand;.1e has no pa.tern {xcept rhe elemenrary parrern of constant changt and violent conrrast, which can scarcely be call€d a pattern at all. Indeed, it rvould be perfectly easy for us, if a nerv manuscript oI the book $'ere discovered conraininghalfa dozen frcsh chapters on thc adventures of Candide in Africa or in China, to accepL them as genuine. Probability is disregarded. Logic and system never appear. Chance, idiotic chance borh kindly and cruel, is iupreme. Tru€, there is a single dominating fteme-the philosophical theory of opdmism ancl
.10.
rrron Voliair.\ candide. Lngaring by Jcxn Drnbrun. Ihotograph by Ciraudon, Ptis
I
l)irsic
INTRADUCTION plor-Candide loves CunCgonde and ar Iasr marries
hcr. lJut beyond these the story is designcd to be illogicat, rrrlsystematic, fantastic, and (in the cxistentiaiist sense) ll)srrrd. A romantic tale rvhich is not satiric may contain rviltl and unexpected adlenrlrres; bur they will follow a lxlltern rvhich, given the prcmises, could be called reasonrl)k. Allan Quarermain in K;ng Solomon's ,iUinsr and l{oberr Jordm in For Who,n the Bell Tollj move through w)rlds of €xtreme fantasy and unguessable peril, bur their l(lventures link into a chain, and the c]rain lorms a design. lD (;ar?diila 6erc is no design. The implicit purpose of the nrribor is to deny drat design in lile exists. Aa every moment lhc regular course of existence is inrerrupted or distorted, r(, lllat nothing, wherher good or bad, h:rppeirs for any (rornprehensible reason. In tt\'o of th€ biggest scenes of the Itorrk, Candide visits rhe unreal land of Eldorado an.l ihe rlrnost equally unreal ciry of Venice during the Cafnival. ltr l,)ldomdo he finds rhar our:diamonds ar:e common grav€I. Itt Venice six chance,met tolrrists prcve ro be derhroned hirrgs-one Russian czar, one Brirish pretender, one Corlirxn, one Sullan, and, of course, t$,o rival Po]es. Whcn lirrrr displaced pdnces appear after dinrer, no one pays ry,rttention to them. In the.$'orld of sati c fiction, almost rulrything may happen at any mom€nri Satire somcrimes lrrrks at realiLy as a tale told by an itliot,Titt of sound and / lrry, signitying norhing. deser\inS norhing t,ur a bj er lrrrr'{h. ) 'l'16 improbable ancl the unexpecteal constantty intrude. 'l'hc philosopher Pangloss is publicly hanged by the Inrllrisilion; but he tums up again rwenty two chapre$ latet rxl)laining that the rope was wet and rhe noose did not l|(ll(c him to death and he revived on a dissecrins tahte. 'l'hc brother oI Cundgonde is killed by u fo.ce o'f Stuvs |rrrling his father's mansion; but he reappears in pamguay, .rl)hining lhrt afrer the catasLrcphe he was resrorcd to
.11.
INTRQDUCTTON life by a priest uho found somc signs of movemenr in his eyes and heart. A little later he is run throrgh the body rvith a sword (Candide is a. lhe other end); but after another dozen chapiers, he is rediscovered as a galley stave in Turkey, expJainine that rhe 1round was nor fatal. Now, nearly every onc of rhese advenrurcs is horrible in ilself. On dre {orr chief characters in Cdn.lide. almost every kind of human sufitring is inflicred; almosr every variety of injustice and oulrage, human and divine, falts upon dieir long-enduring bodies and souls. And yet, rvhen thesc hideous disasters and cruekies are pur all tcrgelher into a sort of cacophonous fugue, the linal cfiecr is not tragic. It ii not even sad. Ir is*satirical. We cannot quite call it comic; but it does nor bring agonizing tears ro rhe eyes or icy horror to rhe soul. Thc rcsulr of reading this short book nbich, in rhiiy chaprers of accidcnts, narrares the humiliating collapse of four lives, is neii.her rears nor hearty laughrer, but a wry grimace which sometimes, involuntarily, breal$ into a smile. Only a very brave man or a very desperate one .an smile at death. Rur rhe satirist, and he nlone, calr make us smile at someone elset. Touching xt Portsmouth, Candide sees a blindfotded man kneeling on the dcck of a sirip. The man is rhen shot by a firing squad. When Candide asts who and why, he is rold that it is a British admirat, who is being killed "to encour.age
Tllis is the complex emotion which appears in JuveDal's hau amused and halt indignanr descr;prion of the hapless pedestrians abolished in rhe accidcnt oI a siDgle minure, squashed to unrecognizable ielly benearh a load of srone; and in the gleeful evocarion, in Pope's run.idd, of rhe barbarous days when the masterpieccs of classical scutpture 'ere converted into pious monumcnrs by an age which had forsotten how to calve original sratuary, or else discarded as worthless and immoral, thrcrvn inro rive$ or groufld
,12.
INTRODUCTION down tor road meral. thjs emorion i5 the lruerr prod rnd rhe c\(n(ial mark of Ihe 8Fnu. we rall :.rtire.
ct I 7
One of the besr ways to study the problem of form in literaturc is the method used by Aristorle. This is induc[ion. First, collect as many examples of a given phenomcnon as possible. Th€n, by obsening resemblances ard difierences and contrasts and alliances, extmct from these particulars a fe$' general descriptive principlcs. This is the syst€m which Aristotle employed when preparing- to analyze tragedy, in the one surviving book of his treatisc called Poet;cs.7f we use it on the rvorks which, throughout the Listory of Western literature from Greece and Rome through the Middle ,\g^es to th€ Renaissnnce and the[ to our own time, have been intended, or: have been interpreted, to be satires, wc shall find tbat nearly all of them .f:rll into rhree classes. \ satire usually hae one oI tlrce main shapes, Some are monologues. In these dle satirist, usMlly speak- r" ing either in his own person or behind a mask which is I $carcely intended to hide, addresses us directly. He stat€s his view oI a problem, cites examples, pillories opponents, rnd endeavors to impose his view upon the public. Such ir Juvenat, denouncing the trafic rvhich makes big city r lilc almost unlivablr. Some, again, are parodies. Here the satirist takes an cxisting work of litedtiliit ithich was created with a serious |,rrrpo'e. o' a lir"',rv lorm in slrir h somF reprrabl€ bookr $nd poems have beer $'ritten. He then makes the ork, or rhc form, look ridiculors, by infusing it with incongruous Itlcas, or exaggerating its acsthetic dcvices; or he makes tlrc idea, look looli.h br purring rhem inro an inapprolniate form; or both- Such is Pope, making Settle's ghost glorify the Dark Age. 'l'he third main group of satires coDtains neither mono'
.13.
INTRODVQTION logues, in which the satirist often appears personally, nor parodies, in rhich his face l!'eafi a mffk, but .na.gativer,.. in rvhich he genenlly does not appear at all. Some of Lhem
INTRODUQTlON outwardly similar'$orks lvdtten by two not disllar authors or €ven, somedmes, by ahe same authorgcrting thar one is, and the olher is not, satite? It is not €asy to say. When a satirist wriEs a Parody t'hich
are stodes, such as Candide. Ot]..els are dramatic fictions:
staged satires, such as ??oilur and Ctdrridd. Narradve, eitheras a story or as a drama, seems to be the mosl dimcult type of satire easiest for the aufior to get wrong, hardest for the reader to undentand and to judge. When it is successful-as it is in Candid.e or Aristophanes' itrogr-it is Iikely to be a masterpiece; but even the best rvriters are apt to waver in their conception of its mefiods, ils scope, or its purpose, r'hile less experienced authors often misconceive it entirely, and ruin rvhat rnay odginally ha1.e been a viable satiric idea. This classificatiol can, ia musr be admitted, be criticized on the ground that it is not a true trichotomy. Alrhough monologues are generalll difierent from narratives, so that the t$'o types form t$'o equivalent cla$ses, it is clearly possible for a parody to be in the form oI a monologue or of a narrative. For instance, there is a delightlul parody of the cetacean style of Samuel Johnson, shaped as a dedica' tory address spoken by his ghos!;' and d.tha.ugh Candide is not, the Sdr)ri.d of Petronius may rvell be, a parody oI romanlic frction. To be scrupulously exact, r'e ought to de6ne the parterns of satire as parody, non parodic fiction (dramatic or narrative), and non parodic monologue (r'ith its variantti but for the sake o[ convenience rve shall use the simpier terms.
If
the three forms of satire are diffcrent, and if their material (as we shall see) is omnigenous, $,hat have they in common? lvhat quality or qualities pcrmit us to look at a poem, or a play, or a story, and call ir a satirej to cxamine another, and declare that il has some satiricai episodes, but
is not !\,hotly or mainly a sarire; and !o distinguish, be-
.14.
ely and delicat€ly reproduces the manner of his victim, when he depends strongly on lhe device of irony, or whon his smile is subde and his humor mi1d, or rvhen he rather convincingly to be telling the truth, the e truth, and nothing but the truth, then he may easily ba mistaken for a dispassionat€ commentator, an amiable ,comedian, a frark forfiright fellow, a genuine admirer of .ihc stufi he parodies, or even one of its adepts. There as tn Itish bishop .urho rcad Gullivey's ?tdzrsk soon after it
far miss€d the satiric imPlications of as to declare that he didn't believe a word narrative thc of it. (Or a. least Sl,rift said so to his fellow-satirist PoPe.)! Plato-lvho loathed and despised democracy, and Athens, lnd Athenian patriotism \'wote a parcdy of a patriotic tpeech over the Athenian war dead lvhich was so clo$e to dox sentiments and the accepted oratorical manner that some good cdtics took it seriously in anriquity and lome moder n \crrolnrr 5rill beliete il wa< rinrerely rvritten ro a dirry. ll$ou8h Plaro h;m(clt said ir r.a' comparable rnas publish€d and so
.
I '
lol.s.--
llowever. there are a number of reliable tests. If some, it is likely to be a satire. peneric First. a deinition enen br the aurhor. When looks ar Rome and cries corrupt uvenal
'or most, of them apply to a book,
It
is difficult not to write satire,'l
know the pattern he rdll use, although in fact he will y change and extend it. Hundreds oI poets, he says, writing epics and dnmas and elegies; satire is my fieldd he goes on in a powerlul tirade to jusLify his choice, descdbe his malerial, and to skerch his special mefiods.
IN7'RODUQT!ON Second, a pedigree. When Erasmus says that his Prar:e ol Folll ls justified by The Battle ol Frogs and Mice, Selec's Pumphinification of Claudius, and Apuleius's MetamotPhaser (among orher books), he is proclaiming thar one line of its descent comes from rhe classical saairists.r!
Third. the choice of a theme and method us€d bv earlier s.rrri,r\. Ol.Fn rhi\ i. J di'gui,ed \rarFrnenr ol pFdieree. The first satire of Boileau (published when he was twentyfour) is a monologue spoken by a beggar poet who is leaving Paris forever, since he cannot live and prosper there without being or becoming corrupt. This main theme, and many of its subordinare developmenrs, are adapted
from the thid satire of Juvenal. Boileau thereby, although he does not even menrion Juvenal's name, announces himself as a saiirist of the hard bitter Juvenalian school. Similarly, by quoting the acrual words of a distinguished sadrist, an aurhor can make ir plain, wirhout a more direct slatemenr, that he is rvriting satire. peacock opens no less rhan forrr of his novels $'ith quotations from the satirist Samucl Butler, Byron begins English Bdrds and Scokh Reui€uea with an adaptation of the first sentences of Juvenalt li$t po€m. Subj€ct-matter in general is no guid€. Men have wrirten satire on rhe gravest of themes and the most trivial, the most austcre and the most licentious, the most sacred anal the most profanc, Lhe most delicare and the mosr disgusF ing. There are very ferv topics which sarirists cannot handle. Horvever, we can say that the rype of subjecr preferred by satire is ah'ays concrete, usually ropical, often pe$onal. Ir deals with actual cases, mentions real people by name or describes them unmisrakably (and often unflatredngty), talks ot this momcnt and this city, and this special, very recent, r'ery fresh deposit of corruprion .lvhose stench is still iD the satirisds curling nostrils. This facr involves one
.16.
INTRODUATION ol tlre chief problems the satidst has to face. To w te good satire, he musL describe, decry, denounce the here and now. ln fifty years, when he is dead, will not his sublgcts also be dead, dried up, Iorgotten? If so, how can he hope to produce a permanent rvork o{ art? open Dryden !t one of his mosl famous salires. Mac Fleckno€. Fl]lI ot good jokes, it is wdrten with infectious gusto, but what is It dbout? who is its victim, Sh-? The notes say he was 9hadwetl, but who now knows, or cares, who Shadwell was? And what is the point of calling him Mac Flecknoe, and lelating one nonentity to another? It is all sunk in oblivion now and utterly irnimportant. Open Popet ambitious Dunciad. at\d. rea.d. Silence, ye wolvesl while Ralph to Cynthia howls, And makes nieht hideous-Answer him, ye owlsl Sense, speech, and measure, living tongres and dead, Let all give way-and Mor s may be read. Flow, $relsted, fiowl tike thine inspirer, beer, Though stale, not rip€, thoueh thin, yet never cl€ar."
Who on earth are these characte$? Pope himself was aware that they were obscure even in his orvn time and would loon b€ foBotten; appar€nlly he felt the paradox implicit ln his work and the work of many satirists, that he was Cxpending his genius on giving a kind of immortality to lhe unimportanr and the ephememl; but he could not lcsist one of the satirist's strongesL impulses, hatred- Yet this passage sholn, in a small way, not only a principal dcfect of satire, but a pdncipal merit: the energy and originality of its style. To us, Ralph, tr{onis, and W€lsted itc quite unknown. But we can still enjoy the biting paradoxes: the bad rhymest€r singing to the moon londer than howling wolves, a soloist with a choir of ululating owls; lhe thin stale trickle of Welsted's pale poetic brew. We can n(lmire lhe deftly turned phras€s "makes nighr hideous" ad^pted, Iroll.' Hamlet, and the fine line abour beer paro
.17.
INTRODDATION died from Denhamt famolrs description of the Thames in Coopet's Hill. We can laugh at the mock gravity oI his apostroph€ to these triflers and -bunglers; and, if rve are sarirically inclined, 1{e can, for Welsred, and Morris, and Ralph, substitute other names, the names oI today's horvlers and babblers and dribblers.la It is in this way that good satire, although essentially topical, becomes general and pellnanenl, The subircr-marrer of satire is multifarioqs. But iLs vocabulary and the texture of its style are difficult to mistake, and, although sometimes used in other types of literatufe, are most concenlfated and effective in satife. Most saliric writing contains cruel and dirty words; all satiric writing contains trivial and comic rvords; nearly all satiric writing contains colloquial and-literary words. All good sarire\ are em;nenrly various. Thr. original Larin word r4rrra means "medl '.- trotclr-qg-tJri%ii tiiE liii sitiiists have eith€r known this or divined it. In plot, in discoune, in emotional tone, in vocabulary, in sentence-structure and pattern of phrase, the satirist tries ahvays to produce the unexpected, to keep his heare$ and his readers guessing and gasping. Since mos! satirists have r€ad satiric books published before their own ddbuts, they are apt to admirc sariric devices which have aheady been worked out. Any aulhor, therefore, who often and porverfully uses a number of the typical weapons of satire-irony, paradox, antichesis, parody, colloquialism, anticlimax, topicaliry, obscenity, violence, vividness, exaggeration-is likely to be writing satir€. If he uses these devices only in cerrain secrions of his work, then those sections alone may properly be satirical; but if they are omnipresent, his work is almost certainly a sarire. In nearly all good satire-rw.o_sprpi?l,merhods, or attitudes, are essential. The frrst is to describe a painful or absurd situarion,
.18
INTRODUA'fION loolish or wicked Person or grouP, as viviAlJ 3:P!ssible. The satirical writ€r believes that most peoPle are purblind, lusensitiv€, perhaps anaestt etized by custom and dulness and rcsignarion. He wishes to make them see the truth* at least that part of the trurh hich they habitually ignore. When I was last rereading Juvenal's satire on the hofiors of the big city, I was reminded of a Passage written in the Same spirit, and at lealt Partially Ior l}le same PurPose, by an author rrhose name is seldom associated with satire. John Ruskin, rvhile giving a course of lectules on sculpture
or
a
at Oxford Univenity in I87o, introduc€d into them a bitrer attack on the d€sign and decor:ation of th€ newly built Thames Embankment in the heart of London At the climax of this attack, he described the flight of stairs leading lrom Waterloo Bridge down to the Embankment, 'the descenC' (he r€minded his hearers lvith a Victorian magnificence) "from the very midst of the metrcPolis oI England to the banks of the chief river of England " The sreps . . . desc€nd und€I a tunnel, which [a] shatt€red gastamp lights by nieht, and nothing by day. They are .over€d with Althy dust, shaken off ftom infinitude of nlthy teet; mix€d up with shr€ds of paper, orange-peel, foul straw, mgs, and cigar €nds, and ashes; the whole agglutinat€d, morc or less, by dry saliva into slippery blotch€s and patches; or, wh€n not so fastened, blonn dirmalty by the sooty wind hither and thither, or into the faces of those who ascend
. Of those who ascended and descended, millions must have seen this rcpellent sight, buL not with the inward eyi, not ; with the mind. Ruskin therefore Pictured it with remorseless clarity, so that they and others might for the fi$t time see, and unde$tand what they saw. Although Ruskin is an exquisi.ely sensitive writer, who habitually delights to dw€ll on scenes of loveliness and gmce, he here uses wolds cit€s details which are repulsive: rags, cigar ends, ashes, dry saliva. This is the direct method used by saairists'
.19.
INTRODUCTION
INTRODUCfION into
Even if Iurious hatred, he $ill still express his hahed in terms suitable, not to murdcrous hosdlity, but to scorn. Hale alone may be expressed irr other kinds of iiteraturej and so may laughtcr, or the smjle of derision. The satirisl aims ar,omLininq r!rcm. 5l,dke.pearF,"'rld nor di.mi.\ IaSo iLiii'-".'Jr. J,.rr rritkrdnc- rua, roo lodrhson,F ro be " merely derided; the man was a "demidevil," a figure fit Ior tragedy alone. Bur Pandarus in TraiLus and Cressida is covered $'irh purely satirical contempl: the contempt $'hich the saririst Ieels may gro!v
Hence, brokcr, lackc,vr ignom,v ancl shame Pursue thy lite, and live ale with thr name.
This conLempt Pandarus himself then turns into scomful laughier by singing a lit!]e soDg and addressing those in the audience l'ho, Iike ltimself, are hard-rvorking ill-reIr ;s because satirc al ays conteins some trace of laughter, ho\\'ever birter, that it lfas arld still ir so difrcult to produce
an efective satire on Adolf Hitler. Charlie Chaplin {'ith tcmporary success in Tlze Great Dictator (rq4o), and David Low produced some good $atilical cari catures stresring the.ontrast benveen his rathcr absurd physical appearance and bit diaboli{:al malevolence. But after he had conquered most of l,luropc and initiatcd his fearsome policy of mass enslavement, torture, and murder, it r\'as impossible to despie him. Srvift prrt it very well, snling, "Satire is reckoned the easiest of ali il, bur I tak€ it ro be orherwise in very bad times: for il is as hard to i satifize ir.cll a man oI disringuished vi.es, as to plaise rvell a man of distinguished virrues. It is easy enough to do either to pe.rple of modemtc characters."'" llorror and f(ar and hnte and ;n.lignation iil not, r,ithout contcmpt, makc a satirc. If Lcibniz's lheory of optimism had not been trerely a mperlicial and silly hypothesis mocked him
1,
.22.
rvlrkrh could lead to nothing more than folly and ev€ntual
rli\i lU'iunr,nr, \ol "uF ,rould lIor Ird!e srirren 1{3rirc lrlx)ut it. For srLbjects which l'ere terrible ithout stirring r!,rrtcmpluous laughtcr, lle adopted a lotally diflerent tone llDrl mcthod. Six or seven yean attct Cand,ide, he issuecl a 'l\'mlise an Toleration, :nhicl]. opens with a darkly serious rlrrription of the trial and execution of Jean Calas on rcligious grourds, and ends Gave for a postscript) with a nolcmn prayer to the Creator oI the universe. No one could write a successlul satire on Attila, or Genghis Khan, or I lnla8u 'r{ith his pyramids of skulls. No one corlld satiize lcprosy or cancer. Hermann Goering, Benito Amilcare Mlrssolini, and even rhat sinisrer paranoiac Josef Vissari rrrovitch Djugashlili, callcd Sralin, had their inellecrive fl contemptible aspccts, and thelefore could, by a powerlirl writer or arrisr, be satiriTed. Bur some villaini€s are loo awlul {or us to despis€. We can only shudder at them, nucl in horror turn ar{ay or try to wile a tragedy. Against rrrch crimes, satire is almost impotent. Against all lesser r rimcs and against all follies, it is a porverful rveapon.
II
DIATRIBE acliviries of human life; but its comment was mainly Llcal, derisory, dcstructive. Ahhorgh he lvas no! the i Roman poet whom we know to have inveighed against powerful contemporaries in verse (Na€vius, that bold beian, did so and suffered for it), he rvas the first who llacked thcm ar ,onsiderdblF lengrh. wirh aflisri( elabora n, and apparently rvith implrnity. Even among the nger fragmenls that survive, we can find several pieces mockery which must have made their vicLims clench fists, and groan, and rithe in pain. From Lucilius velse satire has ahvavs had a bite in it.3
DIATRIBE
I. TH}] SATIRIST'S MONOLOGUE
T r R E as a distinct type of literature wiih a gen' ^ erjc name and a conLinuous tradition of its orvn, i{ usuallv believed to have started in Rome. The earliesr "ari!i\, hho'e r.'orr nrs slwi'.a-iniiii 16r us to rrid js Hora, e t6s-8 B.C.). He hac lelr us rwo rolumes oF sariie. ivirh ten poem' in lhe firsr and eight in the 'er.e together wiLh some poetic letters $'hich are not far second, removed from satire as he conceived it. Horace says, horvever, that in Larin one imPortant satirist came before him.' This predecessor's poems have perished, excepa for a collection of shartered and isolated fra8" ments; but from these fragments, ana from the comments of Horace and others, we can do a little to reconstruct hu life and achievement. He was a billianl and charming gentleman \{ho would have fitled excellendy well into the Whig society of Great Britain in the early nineteenth century: we can easily see him cracking jokes in comPetition rvith Sydney Smith, and even imaiine him out-talking Tom Macaulay-at least for half an hour or so. This is lqaili.].!s (c. r8o c. roe B.C.). ln some tbirty volum6 of poems written in gaily careless, vivid, and unconventional language, he turn€d a whole world into poetry: contemporary politics and personalities, his olt'n tastes and adventures, the characrers oI his friends and sefiants, social fads and fancies, anyrhing rhat interested him. He €ven attempted the almost impossible task oI teaching the Romans to sPell their own divo\erFr, invenror,l langlrage.l Hora,e,alls him the 'eal explorer ot rarirc. because ir wa. he. Luciliu.. who gavel direction and purpose to the genus. In Lucilius's poems,l satire $'as rviluul and various, and could comment orr all
.24.
,
.
Every Roman poet of the Republican era knelv Gre€k, ind-ruefuliy, enviously, or 1{'orshipfully-admired the gnce and por,er o{ Greek literature. However original, ,, lndependent, and carefree he might be, he rvas botnd to h0ve some favoritc Greek aulhor l\'hom (even involuntgrily) he would imitate and emulate. No!v, satire is not utually thought to have existed in Greece. There is no ,6xacr Greek word for "satire"; there is no tmdilion of tllhical r'riting in Greek nothing, for instance, compnrab)e to l\e long rradirion ot )1Lir poetrv or orarory., Yctsarire h r narLlrala' ri\irl: and Ihe Creek\ have alwr)( \ bccn good harers and rhey enjor rornJul laughrer. There I lore we shall expect to find the satiric impulse coming out I .pmewhere in Greek literature, and thercafter serving as a tllmulus to Roman satirists. Abouc this, rvhat do the l'llomans themselves say? I Among Iris disiect; membra foetae, we cannot find Lucilius mentioning any Greek author as his model and 'lnspiration; but his strccessor: Horace names trso who helped to mould Roman satire. Iirst, very clearlyand unequivocally, he says that satire in Lucilius "entire.ly dglettds,ort:$"_"p.1^4,q9111gtJ-gf1!ql.$ . Illsewhere he describes his orvn special type ofsarirc as'talk
.25.
seasoned
DIATRIBE \{ilh black salt, in the manner of Bion,"' the
philosophical preacher. LeL us look at these t1\'o frliations. The comedies or should we call thenl comic operas?of Aristophanes and his contemporaries were plays of fantasy in verse, often soaring high into beautiful lyric inagi nation, ofr€n crudely lulgar, sometimes downrighl silly. They were rich with music and dancing, and used many of the technical resources of the theatre. The satires of Lucilius w€re non-dmmatic poems meant to be read. Although they contained lively dialogue, they could scarcely be pur on dre stage and acted. Wha! then does Horace mean by saying so emphatically that Lucilius "entirely derives frolglistophanes" and the o&;r-!?-fl-e-6€;;i;Fiefl y thar LuciliLrq wrii ii6i-dT6iii iii rl;ous or myrl,i'al ,hJra're '. but about real contemporary people; and that he does so in a spirit of mocking criticism. socrates studying tbe sun from hir space-vehicle in Aristophanes' Cloldr, th€ demagogue Cleon competing in vulgar abuse wifi a sadsageseller in Aristophanes' fnigftts-these are the direct an' cesron of the pompolrs politicians and afiected fops whom Lucilius pillories. And furthermore, the morives of boih poets were identical. If you attack a man in Poetry merely because you hate him, you are not properly w ting sadre. You are wdting "legR99fi-:._o... sometimes, in a special sense, epigram. (The Greeks generally named such artacks after the meter in rhich they were habitually couched, "iambici' j and lhe Romans followed lhem.) The ]ampoon wish€s merely.to r\Lo-!rpd.-aael,.-4-e.r-tra[ all,'34_''i414_-91 " gro-up-Satire wou-nds 3[d,3e9-!lgjp.ilqlvj4S4ls_]t:td gr.oups in order -t9 ,benefi-soei€1y- as-4 -J!Lqle. Lampoon is the poisoner or the lgl T' l]r Srrir€_i he phl:i(i,n o l,e . poli.eman. Alistophanc' , otercd hi' vir rimc $ irh d\er$helming rontempr and ine'i.tible lauehter: he made rhe , '.wise So.rarc. look 'i'lv. rhe tender heafled Furil'idec look siclly and deg.nerate. rhe bold proqr."ire Cleon lnok a
'26'
DIATRIBE rabble-rouser. But he did so because he felt $at these wore injuring his beloved colrntry, by colruPting the ng, demoralizing rhe rvomen, and dislocating the strucof society. Ior all his crudity and absurdity, tor all his
uent
cheapness
and Dionysiac
rvrong_headedness,
tophanes is a moral and political reformer. Whether iucllius explicitly imitated any of his big efiects, we cannot
tell;6 but Homce, who knew Lucilius's work, assures that he modeled his great innovation, the social flrnclion latirc, upon the social function of Attic Old Comedy. yct how about lorm? We are investigating the morholosy,gl-salire. Did Lucilius, in defining the future opment of verse satire, take any formal hints from Oreek comedy? Obviously he did not adopt the dramalic structure of Alistophanes and the other comedians.? We can see no sign lhnt he ever expected his satires lo be staged, rvith a troupe ol actors dancing and singing. Stiil, some of his poems contained scenes of brisk comic dialogue, rvhich remind thc reader of the lively disputes between embittered oPI'ponenrs in Ari\rophdnes." And he tlearly admired and . lmirared rhe fre.-Rohing sponraneiry ot rhe Old Comedy. Greek tragic drama is, formally, rather rigid: as is natuGl lor a type of literaLur€ which displaF the ar-rival of intable doom. Bur Aristophanic comedy is wildly unpretllctable and asymmetrical and apparently improvbatorial. I! always reminds us thar ir originated in a drunken revel; $ lndeed, some of Ihc exranr comedi(( end where romedy I bcgan, jn a vrild prrty. wirh r''inF. r.omen, crazy dancing. r 1nd gay semicoherent singing. In the same way, and on ihat same model, Roman verse satire is capricioqsly varied lnd-unlike almost all other types of lirerature often looks as though ir rqere improvised, spontaneous, structurelcss.
There is one more featur€, and an important one, rvhich
.27.
DTATRIBD Lucilius shares $'irh Old Comedy. A play by Aristophanes has a few chief characten, many subordinare figures, and a ]arye singing and dancing chorus. The chorus itsetf is a coll€ctive character: a group of jurymen dressed as wasps, ri/ith stings to \'vound lheir enemies, or birds, who have thcir o n commonrvealrh high up in rhe middle air, or embactled and murinous i{'omen. Throughour most of the comedy, the members of dre chorus warch rhe action, com, ment on it, and share in it. Bur at one imporaant point near fie middle (r'hen rhe playi{dght has established his domination over the audience) the chorus changes irs nature. It ceases to pr:etend that it is a swarm of wasps or a goat of clouds. Ir leavcs the acrion to srand stilt for a a,hije It turns its back on the nole empty stage. It faces the audi, ence. And it translorms itself from a set of puppets irto the playwright himself. In rhis pardcular episode of the play, r'ith a special name (Par,rrarir, "Iornard march,'), the chorus turns a&'ay from the com€dy and speaLs direcrly to the spectators. It uses dre rollicking anapaests and the bold iolly trochaic rhythms r4rich everyone can leel a.rd enjoy. It performs on€ of the most dimculr feats in a1l drama, by crossing the barder beh{,een the acto$ and rhe audience. Most ancient comedies do this once at least, at the end of the play-appealing ro the audience for friendly applause, as Shakespeare often does. But Arisrophanes and his competitors addressed the audience in lhe middle of rhe play also, noL to gain rheir applause, but to focus their atrenrion on the central message of the play. Ar rhis momenr rhe leader of the chorus faced the andience. He spoke, and thc chorus spoke, the rhoughts of rhe dramatist. Wil)iam Shakespeare somerimes played good parts in his own dramas. I $,onder nherher, in rhe same way, Aristophanes himself may not have appeared in person, behind a mask and lrithin a disguise, to lead rhe chorus in some of his orm
'28.
DIAARlBE inventions, and to say to rhe audience the message h he himself had written. At any rate, just as he and rlvale, at the end of their Plays, oflen invircd the audi' lo join them in a party, so, ar a tumlng-foint in each while all were enjoying themselves and were elat€d tllll receptive, they addtessed their feUolv'cirizens with Itive and thoughtlul message 't{hich was meant to lln in their mind$ long after the wine and the gaiety blown a!'ay.I herefo'e. \\hen Ihe Roman.atiri't "teps rd boldly to acldress the public, crying "Listenl" and king in his own voi(e and pro!oking his hearere ro and reflecdon on important problems of the day, ll copying the aaldress of the chorus and the dramatist lhc public, in Atllenian Old Comcdy. Thete are lu'rher resemblrn'e. bcrween Ari'roPlrrni( y and early Roman verse satire: for instance, the ly unconvenlional vocabulary, blending poetic imagihlilon and colloquial vigor; the frequent Parodies of us poetry; the deliberately shocking indecencies; lhe ilxlble and picturesque use of meter; the fTee and unconV€nllonal senrenceatructure; but these and oth€r such lubardinate devices occur in many autho$ who are no' llwfly! dead sedous, and it lvould be a hard task to say who Ulad ftem frrst, and in which type o[ literature. tllomce was right, then, to $ay that Lucilius "dePended Itr" the Attic comedians Take a ay the stag€ and the Gollumed ' horusr keep rhe oriery and rhc leigned in' oir'ehords: Qucnce, !he hir, uppinB ,lryrlrm' and rhe indeLo) ous lilow a jes.r l irt, a gredL hearr to sPcdk Ihe rrurh direi tly lo the people, naming names outright and mockiDg knaves lnd fools, and you witt have Roman satire as Lucilius l{tlotc it. Horace followed Lucilius, and from him that trlclirion (although internlPted in the Dark Age) has sur' vlvcd for t o thousand Years " cly,
'
.29.
DlATRIBE When Homce said that Lucilius depended ol1 Aristophanic comedl he was new at his job: a keen young satirist, just graduated from the. lampoon, and €ager to criticize his most eminent predecessor. FIe himself never claimed to be follo*ing the genius oI Old Comedy, although he read masterpieces both of Old Comedy and of New.1o For his own work he named quite a dillerent prorotype. In a poeLic letter composed toward the end of his life, he complained that it was dimcult to please everrrbody. Lyrics appeal to A, lampoons arc B's dcl;Bht, while C loves talks in Biont nanner, coarsely spiced.rr These are thrce lypes ot poetry $'hich Horace himself had
written; lyrics (r'e miscall thcm the Odes); lampoons or iambics, the Epodes; and tllks, rer?aoner, chars, informal discourses, a rvord that covers both his saLires and his pocric
letters. "Coarsely spiced" is a rendering ot what Horace calls 'black saft": Ior the Greeks and Romans "salt" in a literary context meant 1\'it and hunor, and black salt rvas therefore crude pungent humor.r, Bur Bion-rvho rvas he, and uhy did Horace call his satires (and letters) "talks in the manner oI Bion"? Greek philosophy began wirh a fe$' austere and arduous thinkers, "voyaging through srnnge seas of thought alone." They set down their doctrines in books as obscure as oracl€s, or entrusted ahem by Nord of mouth to a sclecr few pupils. After them came dre sophists. They claimed to be able to teach rvisdom to anyone, bur in pmctice they taught only members of th€ middle and upper classes. Next, the great schools of philosophy I'ere fonned: Plato\ Academy, Aristotle's Lyceum, the Sroics, the Epicureans. On the hole, they too confrned mosr of rheir teaching to pupils rvho were already prepared for theoretical discussions, and who solrght them out because they rvere aheady interested. Yet any philosophical crecd risks becoming
.J0.
DIATRlBE
lrllc or esoterically mystical if it
out of touch rvith lnary men and rheir prcblems (We h,ve seen this 0ly with Wiltgenslein and h;s followers.) Therefore, lhe fourth slage of Creek philosoPhy, missionaries began tO go our to teach and Preach philosoPhy' nol among hhurcd and receptive hearers in thc great cultural cenlers Cl Crcece, but to the crowds in the str€ets, to th€ inhabitgets
o[ smaller and remoter regions, aDd to the dlnasts and llllclals of petty courh throlrghout the Greek-sPeaking
lttli
t{orld, That world had been vastly en}arged when Alex'
Inder the Great dcstroyed the Persian EmPire and brought Itloltl o[ its counLries Dnd€r Greek dominion. Dudng the llttcc centuries before the birth of Jesus and for lon8 after' Wtlrd, ahe Hellenistic lands lvere crisscrossed by wandering pltllrxoplrical plerrlrers. s)ro"e dim hi\ ro iwrlen men lrom their 'en"u,l .lumber' /nd ro qire rlrem a set of firm Dlllrciples by \hi,r, lo live fhii mi\jonrrv rram' wa' inndc ne"e*',ty panly l,y r\e 'rerilirv of Creek eriu,arion, tud partly by the breakdown of the old Olympian religion ind lhe collapse of dle liltle local cults. Across the Paths o[ the phitosophers moved others, the emissaries oI rveird lRystical creeds, ddving their donkeys laden rvith sacred $unpery, preaching and performing miracles and collectlng money.13 wlen St, Paul started on the journeys de' mrlbed in The Acts of the Apostl€s, he was Part of a traditlon which was atready three hundrcd years old, and more.r' One of rhe most lamous of thete philosophical missiontrlca was a remarkable man called Bion. He was born about tr6 B.C. in rhe remor,e and i.olareJtiiel ""rrlemenr called Olliil-oi"Frjry"ihenes. far aral on rhc Blri k sea ncar Ihe ihc of modern Odessa. I{is father had becn a slave, who Won freedom, and his molher a proslitute. Because of a fnld committed by his father the entire family (though Itrn) was sotd into slavcry again. But the boy rvas bought lty nn intellectual, a teacher of rhetoric, who lefr him, at
DIATRIBE his death, a small Iortune and his liberty. He w€nt to Athens and studied in the best philosophical schools; then devoted his life to tmveling and Preaching philosophy. Bur "preaching" is the wrong word; and so is "lecluring." Bion worked out a style of his own which was designed to capture and hold the attention of audiences who hated preaching and would never have gone to a lecture, PeoPle who were ill educated and uninterested in philosophy and inapt for systematic thought, yet still capable of understanding moml problems and of changing their o$'n lives." Eis mcstagc \\,as realislic. Despising- both naive religitlr and idealistic philosophy, illusionless as a Cynic and voiuptuous ar a Cyrenaic, he $as a rnolal nihill His style rvas lively, but not simple. He told jokes. He made puns. He used plain language, popular slan& coa$e words, obscenitics, Do c dialect. He brought in flowers of rhetoric. He quoted famous poets paraicularly Homer and the favorite tragediar Eudpides-although he usually made fun of them, using their verses incongruously or disrorting them into parody. He illustraled his talks with fables, and anecdotes, and bits of folk-wisdom. It r'as said lof him that he was the first to dress philosophy in the \flowery clothes ot a pro(rirLIc." And. what is perhapr the most imponant thing of all, he did not deliver regularly planned discourses in which point five was inevitably followed by point six, and point six, at an equal distance, by point seven. Instead, he appeared to be improvising. He would start wirh a casual remark or an arresting quip; he would approach his subject tangertially; he ould hold an argument berween himcelf and an imaginary opponent: and his audience. nerer lnorving whar he was going to say next, hung on his words. Il may sound like a silly way to rea.h philo.ophv. cerrainly ir rr orrld be q uite inappropria(e Ior serious students. But it was effective in atbacting and
.32.
ptcssing hearers $rho rvould otherwise never have opened olt minds to a single general idea.
[urrhermore. Bion r '(?, ning \d' \ell $i,hin one Sreal t ldkion otf,hilo\ophi,al merhod: rherradirionol so.'arer. I ,lnin and rgajn in rhedidloguc'o[So,rares pupil PlaroI 6ce that other rhinkers (the "sophisis") are denigrated use lh€y teach by delivering formal leclures, neatly rsnged and tightly packaged- Socrates declares that such lccture may make its hearers admire the speakert verbal liLy and marvel at his apparent conlrol of his subject, ut that it cannol teach them anyrhing. He himself rarely d a continuo,.rs discoune. Instead, he began with a I incident, or a remark dropped by an acquaintance; ! [8ked for an exflana'ion ot the in, jdent or Il,e remark: lcn he slipped almost imperceptibly from question to ObJection to renewed int€rrogation, and so inro the diacllc piocess. Repeatedly he explained that he was not l|ltlDg out a docline which he had already thought 'through, or delivering a speech which he had already comsa( \imply follow Polcd ind polished and memorizcd, bur tormrl d)gumenr led. A dic, our.e. aclng "wherever Lhe aording to Soclates, rvas limited, static, moibund; true Whdom lives, and moves in rvays rvhich are unpredictable. l! k extremely dimcult 10 rake any of the large Plaronic llnlogues in which socrates appeals, and to reduce it to the oi a pl,ilosophiral reati,e in the tradirionalshape. Bion did, then, was to lollow Socrates rather than the 'wlrat and, the systematic teachers who succeeded them." &phists , Bion had another model, scarcely less famous. This was thc Cynic philosopher Diogenes, the tr€ggar, the "dog." 'c.Gii. borti'l;iiii;i6iii..1 D logeiEifi -sffi 6Gd'16-lifi E ilnlogues and poetic dramas to carry his teaching, but even ln his lifetime they were insignificanr. What made him limorls in his lifetime, and nhat has perpetuated his mcmory to this day, $'as his bold vivid method of teaching
ffi
IB
DIATRIBE through pithy Lrnconventional remarks and drastic antisocial acts. One of his central principles was absolute flanhness (rrappnora): he observcd no conventions oI spe€ch, alrvays spoke his mind, and shrank Irom no crude rvords. This frankness is charactedstic of the best sqlire. Everyone k".ii"6;;;-; l; ii;"?l; ;; .-p;t cask, to show tha, most people thought far too much about unnecessary comIort, and horv he alked through the market-place al high noon with a lighted lamp, looking for an honest man. A single memorabie gest re, one meaty r:ematk seasoned with ,"1 black salt, can olten teach more eflectively than a skillfully I articulated discourse on the principles of cthics. The ethical themes used in Bion's informal discourses wcre repeated by generations of moralists, Greek, Roman, and Jervish. Philo, Dio Chrysostom, Musonius, Epictetus, Seneca never tire of reproaching and dcriding their contemporaries for misonderstanding the trlte slandards of life. one of their favorite topics, for example, is the concept of bereditary nobilityr they point out that, as a blind man canno! benefit from the sharp sight of his Par.enls, so a vicious man or a fool cannot be called noble because his ancestors rtere distinguished: nobility is nothing buc wisdom and virtue. And they frequently atFck the luxurious extravagance of the Greco-Roman rvorld. How Perve$e, they cry, ao search the seas from end to end for delicate 6sh. when we car live on bread and salt; how absurd to have cups of embossed silver when cups of clay will quench our thirst; and rvhy drape rhe rvaus with crimson hangings and cover them ith rare marblcs brought lrom distant lands, when a simple house will give us rvarmth and shelter?'s Not only themes such as these but illustrative anecdotes and memorable apophth€gms were part of the continuous hadition of popular philosophical preaching. It rlas apparently Bion who stood out as the most bdlliant srylist in that tradition.
.34.
DIATRIBE Therefore, r,iren Horace calls his ol'n conversational satires and letlels "discourses in thc manner of Bion," he m"ans rrrar rl'ey arc liAh m^no'uare5 \^irh r 'c"iou\..on tcnt. de, or atrd s ith rvi r i, i.m. and other arr ractrr. der i.e.: Jpj,r'en,ly hrphr/i,J ;n,llu.ru,e: and ,har 'hJift;iare rhFir h,rm^r i. rarh, r ,oIgh rhan deliare. He mean. al,o that ih€y deal with importanl ethical and social problems, which concem evcry thinling man; but which he rvill not discuss in a comp)ex argument 6lled irh technical jargon. Rather, even at the risk of over-simplifying them, he will make them plain to undersrand and easy to remember, so , that they may bddge the gulf between philosophy and rhe general public.1,
Horace mentions Bion because he I'as the besr known and the most extreme of the philosophical preachc$. Yer in fact there rvas a large trirdition of creek sari cal wriring and talking, both in vc$e and in prose, r'hich existed before the first Roman satirist began his $'ork; and although Bion, accurately speaking, was scarcely a satirist, he did lrse many of thc devices i{orked out by the genuine Greek satiric {'riters. Their books have almosl wholly disappeared. They were not often imitated by Roman aurhors, and many of the Romans 1{ho imitated them ha1,e, in tum, been lost. Therefore they do not regularly appear in hisrories of Greek and Roman literature. Most of us are apt ro think that the history oI satirc begins lrith the RoDrans of the Republic, continues in Latin for three centudes, and diverges into creek only with Lucian. This is an oversimplifrcation. Outside the drama, there were three chief kinds of Greek satirical writirg. One $'as pLilg-lopl[qa.l criticism. This began with the brilliant Ionian Xenophanes (c. i1o-c. 4jb B.C.), l{'ho wrote a lively hexameter poem called, Leers ot Looh;ng
'35
DIAT'RIBD lrliaft'e (:illo,). Anong other things, it cdricized popular anthropomorphic religion: NoN,
il
hands vere polsessed
and thcy coukl paint with
b) oien, by
fteir
horscs and lions,
handr, and carve them-
selves statues as merr do,
then they uould picture the gods like themselvcs wilh similar bodi€s: horucs would makc thcm iikc hones, and ox€n €xactly likc oxcn."o This poem seems Lo have beefl in the shape of a monologue, didactic, and yet evidently critical and humorous. After lhe philosophical schools were formed, this special type of satire was taken up enthusiastically by the Cynics and the Sceptics, who enjoyed pointing out the absurdities and inconsistencies of olher sects. Diogenes himself seems to have writte[ only serious poetry; but his pupil Cnt€s (c. 368-r8b B.C.) produced sariric poems against dval philosopherr, in iambics, elegiac couplets, and hexameters, containing much parody." Anodrer Cynic, Cercidas (c. 29o c. 220 B.C.), wrote against $'ealth and luxury in lhe unusual form olsatiric lyrics. More famous and far morc influ' ential was the Cynic Menipl:uj_ (c. t4o c. Ito B.C.), a Syrian slave lvho won his freedom and eventually became a citizen of the noble Greek city of Thebes. He was apparently the {irsl non-dramatic rr'riter of satire to make his work continuously fLrnny, instead of merely inserting gibes into il herc and th€re. He is called the or.ousoy6troLoq, 'the j.,FI 1P*i serious thingsl'par excelle_ncel and he surely modeled much of his work on Aristophancs." He is also Iamous for inventirg a r€rrLr pattern. for._s-?tirc, prose nlllg._l.e-4. _{itll a pattern lehich may be ",i!+-t!hq! ,o.!. ysl!g-. S€mitic in origin rather than Greek.:3 After him came the author of a mock epic in Hom€ric hexamete$ about rhe confiicts of the professional philosophe$, the Sceptic Timon of Phlirs (c. q2or. ,qo B.C.), 1{ho introduced
.36.
nophanes as his hero, and called 6nolhanes had done.
his poem Zaar.r,
as
Ilrom these men particularly from tl!€ brilliant MeniP' i-a second tradition of satire florved irlro Latin. The kllcr, Clatesman, 1nd pol).rnath tr'arro wrote a la{g€ IIll)cr of -MenilrpFin.'Jrirc. in pro'F inrc,(pcrred wirh judge rirlc., their rl..ir repurar reputarion, ion, and b\ Itheir hei" titles, lrnclGl'lih iLaee by lrc, 'o pitifully fe*' ftagments that have survived $'ere trncd and original and witty- Many of the best of these, wiiiiiii 't', iueie not 4!'flrsiv-e mons,loslrcs, b{r narmvc{ of fanra.ri' ddrenrure rold in Ihe {rr\r lerson. Their trrlEivas so rich in vulgarisms, archaisms, neologisms, lI(l lxtd imagery, and thcir metrical inlerludes so skillf l i (l $o various, that they even make the straight verse ftllres of Horace and Juvenal look rather tame and lh(ltlotonous. In.the same line_-of develoPment lie- lhe \di)rl.d or rcrronru\ (both rne j,i,Ji;iis;.qt. F"trpnius rDorn or :cnF.a. Iti-. d/ocotocynro.si fllhcotor)/n1ost\ di"Siii-,ii:;, hliir-iiii narrlive',. rome ol the moqt ambitiou'.:rtire' of lltc (;rcel.pcali,,g Lrr ian. and finall\ a 'a.i,c l^ ,hc ld\r phlloropl,i,il mond,,l' ot Jnriquir'. lul;in Ihe \fo.raLF.' Orrtside the theatre, there rrere two olhet types of Greek Ir0eLry which were satirical in efiecl, or, $,ithout being lrrly.jri'i..r'. r'.ed rhe,veapon. ol.atire. 'l"hc Greeks are proud, and thcreforc envious. They ll€tpise other nadons, but th€y hate other Greeks. Hence tllclr long hdition of sclf seeking and treachery, vhich beBirrs $'ith the first book of Lhe lliad. and is still active torhy. fusr as'sexual energy is the central reffon o{ existlh(c for many Italians, so rivalry with other Greeks is, for tlll[y Greeks, thc motiv€ force of all life. This impulse tvrl vcnted by several porvertul Greek poets in works wlrl(lh, because they expresscd only tbeir authors'orvn hntrcd for an enemy, rl*ed.,t!e jgqge s, or at least the
lIrlil'crndn.. imper.onalitl $hich rn'rld .nrjr'c Ihcm thl: name of satirc.
.37.
ro
!/'
DIAfRIBE Archilochus (fl. 7oo B.C.) was a soldier of fortune. He justified neither his loves nor his hares, but spoke tltem out boldly. For his hate-poems-he chose the meter which, being closest to the rhythms of ordinary sPeech, is most efective: the iambic. Thencelorward abusive Poems motivated by purely personal spite were usually I'rirten in this rhyrhm,and generi'all1 rallcd iambi,s. tven morebitter wa( hipponax \fl.54o B.C.), n-Tffiiiruperarions drore some ot hrs victims to suicide, and rvho invented the ugliest
of all Greek meters to express his hatred, t]j.e scazan or "lin\per," choliambic or "lame iambic," a line in which five iambic feet are succeeded by a sPonde€, so that its regular march slumps heavily in the lasl foot. Long alterbrilliant buL cross-gaaineal Callimachus (c. 3o5-c. z4o B.C.) publhhed a book called lam6icr, in which, posing as Hipponax reborn, he attacked his enemies wilh {'itty abuse. It is likely that the versatility and sophistication of this book helped to inspire Lucilius at rhe beginning of his car:e€r as a satirisl; and Horace's early collecdon of Elod?s cites Archilochus and Hipponax rs his predec€ssors." Still, satire in Rome rises higher and develops more boldly than the poems of this school in rvard, in the Alexandrian era, ihe
Greece.
The satiric impulse atso cropped out among the Greeks in amusing or birter poems on general themes. The Greeks admire cleverness, and have no pity lor stupidity. The hero of th€ Od1sse1, although bmve and r€solule, is preem inentll c ler er. er en Io I hc foinr ot dcvi'inc unne, esatv lies to tell thosc $ho love him. Therefore someonc \\,rote a comic poem about the antithesis of Odyiser6, a man so stupid that he could not count beyond five (the lingers of one hand) and was afraid to mak€ love to his rvife in case she conplained ao her ntother.
DIATRIBE the model of the bold upstart in the 1liad, The$ites, wAs (alled Malgifer, "Madman."eo The po€m $'as in a P0ided rhythm, dactylic hexamete$ iregularly inter, with iambics, Nhich to Greek ears would sound lward and preposterous like Margites himsetf. In antlity it lvas usually ascribed to Homer:, but. nothing l'vives of it except broken Iines and ampurated jokes. e canno! evell te]l whether it tvas shaped as a narr:ative life+tory, or a string oI adventuret or as a characterit; certainly it !l'as not considered to be a parody the strict sense, but rather a protracted pl€asantry.,? Irom settlng itrl trom setting the saflric satiric model of Lhe Perfect Fool tPIlIl (llkc Simplicissimus and Candidc) it had little direcr influancc on literature. Morc important and more durable was ! mock-?ic-satirizing_g{Lllgj_glory and _cpic grandilo-
qncnce-b) de$ ribing jn Hom(ric rerm. a oneday,onBicL botwcen riny arrimals. Th" Bottl. ol frcgs and Mi p. \len ItO Dever tired of criricizing vomen; and so (apparendy ltom the seventh century ts.C.) we have an iambic poem by lamonides of Amo€os su eying rhe clitrerent types ot *lvcs, comparing one to a yapping birch, one to a lazy sorv, lnd so folth; only one, the bee, is praised. This stands ar ihc head oI a long series of misogl'nit[i! satires, which stil] lhows no sign of comine to an end. Another fal,orite topic lor stirical rrealmenL has ah,avslgen-fpd; and so in ihe lottrth century -uc mcet the firsr ot many sarires on clinncrs l0od, bad, and ridiculous. Thh theme ras brough. diiec.ly ln{o Latin in a poem called Hed,y?hagetica, ot Delicatessen, by the frrst great Latin poet, Ennius.,s
Nfrny skills he knew, and alwaF got them wrong.
I'lowever, ve are considering satires in rhe form of monologxe: and not all rhe Creek s.llires in rer'e, or in Ftorc mingled with verse, were monologues. Wharever lhelr shape, Horace, the lirst extant sariric monologist in Lnlin, never m€ntions thcm, ahhough he may \!ell have
.38.
.19.
DlA'1'R1RE
,
.[
t,ol"n' ''
-/
used mar€rial &a$,n from them.'" Some he may ha\e thought ro be too special, too contentiously phi)osophical; some roo rude and naive; and some (like Cercidas'and Callimachus) too ambitious and recherchd for the true impact of satire. The model hom he chose to name ras the \{itty, unsystem:rtic, free-spoken prose critic of society and of philosophy, Bion of Borysthenes. Bion's discourses were called diatribes. Ttre word has nowddd\',on,ero'n.dn_r b:,.llrpolem.i, h rt ir Crecl anJ Latin ir has no hint of bitterness or hostility. ,iaii.i6l ir Creek is an absollrtely neutml $'ord, m€aning "occupar;on. By Pl:rro5 time, rh-n Ll,c nc.r'i'rrion. be.r \vorrl' m?irionin^ rere inLellerruat. it had (onre lo nreaD borlL 'rt,.r,ty' o.rd "cliscourse": irr his defense speech at his trial Socrates says (according to Plato) that he rtsed to Sive among the Athenians 6rcrpLB
.14.
DIATRIBE nnd it intmduces fiction in the Iorm of anecdotes fables. Its language is sometimes lofty, but is more prosaic and comic, generatly colloquial, even ob" , It6 tone is not sedous, but fliPPant, sarcastic, ironic, ng, and in general inappropriate to the full gravity
lubject. It is not a lecture. It is not a semon. As soon author begins to arrange his thoughts under sLrictly hcadings, to cur arvay alt irrelevancies, and to speak tone of unvarying seriousness, he is not wr:iting satire. lnay be creating someLhing more importanr and more but it will nor rcach the same audience as satite, It will not produce the same result. The tone of imion-even if it be onlv a semblance-is essential lhl! type of sati c reriting. It comes do n Irom those us anceston, the Old Comedy of AristoPhan€s, wiah ahorus of masked revelen, and thc liee-wheeling philocal convenalions of Socrates. It is strange to look ond see how many of the thoughts that move us today have moved generations of our ancestors, and how of the artistic forms we love, in stone and in poetry, drsma and in thought, came from tha. little rePublic Athcns during a few decades of its life, when tasle, and t, and freedom, and careless gaiety were all at play
has a long and splendid history, monologu€ satir€."'
it was introdlrced into Latin by Ennius, and led by"'Lucilius. HoJace, a kindlier man, made it cr, refined its style, and infused into it a richer ethical t, Persius took it over from Horace, filled it with leal propaganda, and developed lor it a strange, w1y, trlcced style, which grimaces like the mask of a satyr: h h particularly odd for a Stoic, since Stoics do not carc about the powe$ofstyle, and never grimace. Juvenal ed irs size and scope, endeavored to make ir dval 'Vc!6e
.41.
DlA'TRIBD epic and tmgedy, and spoke oI vices and sins viler than any touched by his predecessors; but by hh time it was too dangerous, under an absolute moDarch, fo} a satirist to sPeak out f1eely 3'? We hear of odrer verse satirists in Latin after Juvenal, but Lheir work has practicatly vanished. Yet, as the western Roman Empire was fa]ling into anarchy and chaos, there emerged a surprisingty strong and spirited satiric monologist, Claudian. This man \'vas the poet Iaureare of Stilicho, the half-barbarian marshal of the weslern emPire; and he lvrote two inveclives against Stilicho's polilical opporents, Rufinus and EutroPilrs, which, atthough predominantly serious in tone, still mock their vicrims $'ith enough energy and enough sense of incongruiry ro be close to satire. ln this, dreir aflcestor is Juvenalt fourth, the satire on the Emperor Donlitian and his subservient cour| but they carry Juvenal's blend of satire and epic upr'ard to a new height.rs In Greece under lh€ Roman EmPire a milder and gentler satirist rvas writing in prose: fairly good prose, consideing that his native ton€iue r{as not Greek This was Lucian (fl. A.D. 16o), a Sydan (or Assyrian?) born on the banks of the Euphrates. I confess tllat I ahvays feel foreignness in his work, and that I can never quite do him justice. When I try to read those satires in \'\'hich, with ahe same subtlety as a freshman preaching atheism, he deflates the ancient Bronze-Age myths of Zeus ard the OlymPians and lards his thin dictionary-Attic prose $ith cultured quota_ tions from the conect classics, I feel as though I rtere tr:ying to savor a satire on the medieval Christian cult of relics, written in Chaucerian verse by an intelligent Hindu of the present day. To pur it bluntly, most of Lucian's problems are dead, and rvere dead when he lerore about th€m; his language is a colorl€ss pastiche; and he has almost wholly abandoned one of the essential virtues of satire, which is to be topical in subject and realistic,
.42.
DIATRIBE ht, combative in style. As a foreigner, he f ished to be Greek than the Greeks themselves. Therefore he led his satirical dialogues and comedies on tbe work Greek authon of the long departed classical age, filling pro$e with obsolescent idioms and citations borrowed lhe most approved sourc€s. A few of his satires, hoq;ever, have some contempomn€ity some bite: his monologues on fiat familiar subject, misery of the inlell€ctual. In his time most of the poor [cllecLuals w€re Greeks and mosl of ihe brainless taste-
ch were Romans, so that thesc are in ef{ect antipolemics. Such are his Prol?sro/ of Oratory, !j'is tio ot an lgnorant Booh'CoLlectot, his accounx the humiliations of Paid Comqanions, arr'd his Nigrizus, d$cription of Roman multimillionaires and Lheir loadies, t in th€ mouth of a beggar-philosopher '$'ho lives in c but thinks in Greek. These and a Ie$' other monoof Lucian are pictures of contemporary life $,hicht for their rather desiccated prose style and their relucto name names could stand beside the satires of . Lucian and Juvenal, the antiRoman Greek and anti-Greek Roman, they make a splendid pair of satiric enrs. Lhcy rrould hrve cordialll iletened ea.h olher, wtro wanls to understand impeial Rome of anyone cl Becond century must read them together.sl The line ot ,las;,dl .ariri'rs entls rith a surp-i.ing r the EmpejglJll-lia3-ggl!9d- lhq Apqrtate because, ough baptized as a Christian, he reverled to paganism. An attack on Christianity Uhich he published has long ago dbnppeared, and we cannot surely tell whether it was |lClrical. Bur we have one curious and ralher good monologuc satire addressed by him to the peopl€ of Andoch. It was in Antioch that "the disciples were called Christians fiItt," 60 that its people can havc had no love for $e pagan ampcrol. They had mocked Julian Ior wearing the simple .43
DTATRIBE immecliately preceding the Reformation. But although the
priests and the friars lvere undoubtedly eamest in their struggle ro tvarn mdntinJ aeain.r ir" or'n ronuprion it war rheir very earnc\rnes\ rhar pre\enred rhem trom mdking rheir sermons inro 'atjres. \4osL of Iho.e,ir.d b) Dr. Owst-are unremitlingly serious and doggedly systematic. -We can, horvever, trace certain devices rvhich often recur in them and which can be called satiical. One is the illustrative anecdote, an odd or amuting tale (be il fiction or Iact, it iiiiiCly mattert used to point a moral. Another is the fable. Another is the vivid character sketch tinged -ith am'.r#irrerrt and contempt. Anal, just norv and then, we see a shorl passage of true satire in which, for a momenti the author actually ventures to play lvid a serious idea: as rvhen St. Bemard produces a series oI sharP_edged criticisms made pointed by puns, about clerical dignitaries who care more for roast pasty than for Chrisl's Passion and study more in salmon than in Solomon; ol hen the Dominican John Bromyad, in sar.age and paradoxical ironn calls money a divinity more potent than God, because it can make rhe lame rvalk, set captives free, cause tLe deaf judge to hear and the dumb advocate to speak 33 The moral themes and examples used by medietal .preache$ rvere (as Dr. Olv'st shorvs) often taken over by poets outsidc the church. Among the social and ecclesiastical satires of Walter Map, walter of chatillon, Gillcs de Corbeit, and Gillebertus, ther:e are some short and amusing monologues, occasionally eren called rermondr and \{ritt€n as parodies of pulpit oratory. One of the most striking of the poems by the rebelliotrs "GoliardJ' is Gol;ar Against Marriage, a grorp of misogynistic monologues put into the mouths of three saints of the church."" And we sometimes find satirical monolog es embedded in the solider material of larger '!vorks, like frail fossils in carboniferous stone. Such is ahat delighttul satire on marriage seen from
.46.
l)cviL pa,lirg monk'. i,die'. br,hups. 1rin,r.. Jrrd nrto the boiling caldroD ot hell. Cothic scnlplure, rhe Catl,edral of lk{,rges
Photognph
bl
Giraudo., Pais
l{i.,e*.,
DIATRIBE c woman's
point of view, thgJlLLe-gLp-gu; Prologue
i\
h vet's Cullterbury Tdles:o herc and tLere in rhe ram, Iing'half:iirystical Lralf-realist preachments of Piers PLou)there are sharp little sallies ot satire; and, iike garin a vast and intricate Gothic cathedral, rve can find satiric diatribes crouching among rhe flying butitcsses and crocketed pinnacles of The Romance ol the ole.
With the Renaisjance,,!!f.9!rC-i!3-rlidlrab. fell,more free to asserl Ihem.el\es and declare their pe,sonal opinions. ln protesi. o, in deri.ion. o, Uort,, rt"'rn of retiing rhe lqql;i:l*-a- jesf' was once more exptored. The Roman attiTists were mor€ closely srudied and undersrood; the Work of the Greck sadrical rvlirers became knowl. Eventuilly latrcr Ca
They that are most galled with my folly, They most must laugh.ar
lu
the baroque age, thes€ men rvere follol\,ed by grcater
![lirists who used, although they did nor atways preler, the .4.7.
1
I
DIATRIBE monologue form: Boileau, Oldham, Young, Pope. The (ourt predclreL ro rhe-Holy Roman EmPeror Jrom r67? to ,7ov. Abrdham a sancla Clarr' alrhough filled wilh deep religious emodon and insPired by unmistakably sin' cer; moral feeling, still wrote sermons which are often indistinguishable from sadric diatribes in the sPiit of Bion, so lull are they of witticisms, parodies, proverbs, anecdotes, puns, and other divenions, and so unPredictable is their rapid explosive tempo He specialized in humorous atracks on rhe follies and frailties of mankind. His most famous preclecesso$ (in comParatively modern times) rvere Brant vith his Sftip ol Foo?s and Erasmus y-{!r-.bis-eta,re ol FoILy. His closesl successor was Joseph Stranitzky, lvho opened the first Punch and Judyshow invienna. Stmnitzky quoled Ireely from Abraham's sermons and books, and one of his chief characten, the Jack Pudding or Hanslvrrr.st, used the freedom tradirionally given to fools to criticize the Austrians as boldly lrom the PuPPet stage as Abmham had criticized them from the Pulpit " It was right that Lor4 Byron should begin his serious car:eer as a poet with_ a satiric moirologue, for he was an embirtered cynic, a relentless humorist, and a raPid im_ proviser. Infudated by tl\e Ed;nburgh Re ;cb's ]J.ostile criticism of his Hours ol ldleness, he torned from mild lyric to the strong satire of Juvenal, whose fiIst poem he imitated in -Crgltr.L Bards and Scotch RerielreB (1809).
I hear? shali hoane Fitlgerald ba&l His creaking couplets in a tavem hall, And I not singl Sti1l must
In verse satire of this kind Byron's most eminent modern successor was Victor-H-u99, with his artacl.s on the monarch rvhom he called Napoleon the l,ittle. He was admirably
DlATRlBE lory of this particular type. Horvever, it was revived lcr rhe First lvorld War, by the Solth AfricaS-p91.4gy lmpbell, wiih splendid energy iiid siiveieign contempr. most ambilious poem in this veir., The Georgiad l08r), is only partiy indignan. monologue, and slips now lhen inlo parody: this mixture of tones is one reason it is not $'holly successful; but ithas some {ine passagrs. ere is his descriptior of the English Jiterary scene in the rg2oh.
Now Spring, srreet laxative ot Georgian strarns, Qui.kens the ink in literary ieins, The shtely Hores ol l:rqldnd opp rheir door5 To piping Nancy-boys and crashing Bores, Where tor weck'ends the scaveng€rs of letters Convene to chew the lat about their betters Over the soup, Shakespeare is put in place, Wn.d,\o'rh i, m"nclFLl si\ rl,r c.lc an I tlJi,F, And Milton's glory drat once shone so clear Now with the gravy sccms to disappear, Here Sh€lley w;th tlie oraDge peel is torn And Byrork gorcd by a tanc cuckold s horn.
Antl his evocation of the lanky and lugubdous form of Lytton Strachey, i{hose repuraiion rvas established ar the ol,ching of the decad€ with Lis biographt of the good Quccn Victoria. While here unga;nly monarchy, annexed l)y more nsainly Somebod,r, is vexed And turning in h€r gmvc exclaims, "What nexd In life did tat aDd asthma scani my brealh, 'l'hcn spare mc from thc Tapc-ri,orm, Lord, in death."a
'lwo ycar" l,r.'. illg_lJ._\y)ldl'i. Le\\js, !.hor
Itltlorrs sarir ic nor e
.
h.,Ll made
le* impa, r and
hu
er rned
am-
him
suited for ir, since almost all h€ wrote sound€d like an enormous monologlre. After Hltgo th€re is a gap in the
lame than he hopc.l, published his onty ve$e satire, ! lcrics of monologu€s called, O_ne-llay,,_S-ong. In this he Itutrtcd of some ot his id€rls, complained bitterly of the llllllrpiracy to boycoll and impoverish him, and pur some
.48'
'49,
DIATRlBE of the charges against him into the mouth of "the En€my." It is a vigorous poemi but too full oI the cheap oldfashioned slang he affected, and somedmes obscured by his devotion to private fads and feuds. In 1934, a far more drasrjc satiri,t rorl,ing in pro.e isuei rlie 6r'r ot hi. monologues. This was Hejll MilE,- who,sl-lmrlc ol Ca'r_9€f.y$..-follq-rl'-eq.lD \%g by Trolic of Qapdgorn. ID form these are autobiographical novels: both follow a certain time-sequence and contain certain characters who reappear and may be said to develop.'a Bur MiUer is, or was, an incessant talker and letter-rvriter. The mosL porrerful and durable parts of these books are the meditations and manifestoes in which, lvith hideous violence and shocking foulness of language, he denounces th€ whole rvorld of his dme and most of its component parts. His passion {or obsenitl ir.lile thar ol {ri,toph:nes. and Rabelai,i an,l ;nJeed mu ny ot the e\ploir\ ol qhi.h he boa,rs ri,emhl, those of Panurge. The difierence is that in spite of its absurdiries and hypocrisies they love mankind. N{iller, likc Srilr brlievs rhar h,rmdniry ;, d filrhy (rime. In the modern United Stares the satidc monologue struck nely roots, and had a vigorous, although not ah'ays gmceful, gro th. Americans have ahvays enjoyed lisrening to the humorous disillusioned obser'\,er ruho, from the sidelines, n'atches the parade of the rich aDd the mighry and with a few biting words converLs them into fiieves and clowns. Fipley-Pgqe1pg4ge not only amused the public lor t$renty years with the dialect monologues of "lIr. Dooley," bur did somerhing ro influen,e prrLli, opiniorr on.eriorr. questions: at least as much as he corld have clone by earnesr unsmiling propaganda. A genemtion larer came anorher rdorologist, Philip-Jllv-Iic whose Genetution of Vipert, published in rg4elhas sold ov€r tr,o hundrcd thousand copies. It is a commentary on American delusions and vic€s (in particular, "Momism"), l'rirren r!'irh passionarc
.so
DIATRIBE ly but also $,ith bold and acid humor. Irs free and llnguage and its gl€efui confronration of harsh facts much-adv€rtised ideals make much of it excellent the end of lhe l95o's satirists of a rype both old and very nerv began to appear in American night4nd theatres, and-greatly to Lheir own surpriselistened ro $'ith delighr and admirarion. These men nothing, but deliver monologues which are usully and al$'ays in appearance improvised. Although it Itly cercain that none of them know antthine aboui rhe diatribe and the Roman ancesrors of modcrn satire, nevertheless use many of the same devices: ropical sho. k inq $ o,Ll.. h (i, d pdr rdo\, .. c'ret p od ie,. es of foreign languages (in particular, Yiddish ancl l0n), an easy convcrsational rone with much up to date , and a loose apparently planless format. The most u6, Mg:! jglr usually lrorks ('irh the symbol of imnnen, e. rodlys ne$(pdper, in hi\ hand:,'anorher, tiiiTE;;d l-pr",;,". rong ani grore.q,,c rer"p'rone vc$gqSryl:i!!.,i,1._ipagin4ry inrerlocuror. Alrhough,
ffi;ste*'dl'Cfi(;i;il,;;
ti'.y all
have cerrain
ire themes of sariric commentary rl,hich recrr again again in their work (for inshnce, they aI derest n), sdl1, the best of them never detiver the same e twice, and all of them ni]l improvise targe and bold humorous deyelopmelrls on the spur of moment. \rulgar and garnilous, insecure and opulenr, tive and brash, they are the modern descenalants oI and the larcst membe$ of those po!\'e#ul sects, rhe ticr and rl,e Clni.,. The.loF.r .oin.iden,e bc,\vFen modern and the ancient diafibisrs is rheir hare.l of Lcrialism; but the moderns a'e frr niJie*iii" i6i,iir' than dleir lorerunne$ dared to be. Thus. disng the publication of the Yalta pape$, Mor Sahl
.51.
DIATRIRE
that they "should be put out in a
loose leal along." they come binder so you can add new -Korea, "They were he said Of thc American tumcoats in steadfast: they refused to giv€ anything except their name, their rank, and the exact position of iheir uni!." When F.isenhowcr r,as first elected. Sahl commented tha! the country needed a man on a white horse: "We got the hone, but there's nobody on him." And when Kennedy l,ras nominated, he said the committee sent a wire to Kennedyt mulcimillionaire father saying, "You haven't losl a son, you've gained a country."
suggested
betrayals as
'\
2, VARIATIO
NS
OF THE SATIRIC-{L
MONOLOCUE
r
'''
,:/
This is not a history of satire. Although that would be an attractive enlerprise, it rvould require three large vol umes at least. This is 3tf eiu i* m9l[Flogy. we must now look, therefore, at some important vadalions on the first main type of satire, th€ monologue. Far back among the earliesl beginnings of verse satire, find one importanr subspecies. This is the monologue which is delivered, not by the satirisa in his own person, but, by the satirist's victim. The Poet males a mtn whom he despises and hates stand up and speak his whole soul, boast of his evil talents, display his shameful laults, glory in his outmgeous vices. Ultimately this is a trick of the ahealle. It appears in the opening speech of Shakespearet Richard III I rye
I, that am rud€ly stampcd,
and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambting nynph; L rhJr .'m , ullr,le,l oI L\ic Li. t,opollion. Cheated of teature by disscmbling nature, D.lurmed. unrrni"hed. sFnr b.,ori ml rni Into this breathing workl scarce halt made up,
.52.
DIATRIBE And that so lamcly and unfashionabl€ 'th Jog. L.,l .' me. a. I \ 'lr L) rlr"m. . . I am determined to prove a villain.
.
h( Creel(s and Romans kne$ and enioyed this arick, from 0Aring the boastlul speeches of parasites, chefs, and icrs offortune in theircomedies. From comedy, Ennius, tlrcfirsrgoerrorall hh so l' vrirt., Lransterred jii o'a lnorologue. in rhi,h. boJ'ring and behhing, a pa'asirel ttphined what a rich and easy life he led by gorging other! lncn's virrual.. and rhus r\lirlrour reali/ing ir) arrrr(rcdl &orn and harred rrpon him"ell hom all normal men.'o Thfu particutar type of self'exposure is difficult to b ng 0lI, and must be writren by a man who is bgth a sllillful poct and a subtle psycloloqi:!; but hen it succeeds the fnt lling self-porrrair is imnortal. Two good Latin satires (bolh shaped as dialogues, but mainly spoken by the men aillrized) belong to this type: Horace.t,_sa+e on tlle gourmet who is compiling a manual of exqu;ite living ($am. r.4), and Juvenal's-portrait,.pf tbe professional perVcr[ who is growing'old and starting to irorry about the ! ure (luvenal 9). The W]fe.of Berh's monologue is tnother famous member of this group. Its most illustrious axnmple is one oI the master satires of the Renaissance: Thc Prai'e o1 roii) Ly f,a.mu' ol Rorerdam ,r5oai.r? qr llrrr sighr-iii..iel'' *.rrr Io Le m.rc.orrc(,ly,lJ,ciFFd U tt parodyr a parody of an cncomium. One of its chief models was the epjdeictic speech the "display" omtion ln rvhjch dirinirie. or 9rF,r mcn or lrmous ,;ries rc,e l)rlised, and which ingenious Greelis sometim€s perverted l{) Pamdoxical praise of comical or repulsive things, such nt baldness or flies. (They l\rere followed in Erasmus' ov,n llnlc by Francesco Berni, encomiast of eels, debt, etc.) But, tln(c this is rery praise, in which FoUy hersetl speaks as the t'lrlor of much of the rvorld, glorifying her all but omnipolcnl domiDatjon, it is better described as a mighiy mono-
.5;t.
DlATRlBE logue satire, spoken not by the satirist but by his victimhis collecrive victim, the fools of this $'orld represenied by
their presiding deity. InmoderntnnetRolslj*Bj,o.!,-ri|.C-Y$..-!!.e-.gl3s!9lor this fartiqRlar, kind of satire. Most notable are his bilter exiosure of a "spirituallst," Mr. Sludge,"Thc Medium"which rvas very topical, being based on the career: of a real medium, whom Brouing profoundly distrusGd and de' spised, Daniel Dungtas Home-and lhe suave conlession he wrote for an ambitious lforldly churchman, Br'rl,op Blougram's Apolog). (The vein of satire is evident in the grotesque names: for the bishop's interlocutor, Gigadibs, and for fie medium, Sludge.) Among my o n favorites are the birter tirade of a hate maddened monk, Soliloquy ol the St)anish Cloistet ("G-r"r-r, there go, my hearL's abhorrence! Water your damned flower'pots, dol"), and the frivolous sellrevelaLion of a lazy aimless Italian genrleman: Up at a Villa-Daun in the Ciry (As Distinguished by an raltles along ltalian Person ol Qualil)). In this poem, "'hich wirh a gay flimsy rhythm like the clatter of tambourines and the jangle of mandolins, an Italian g€ntleman, too noble to $'ork but too Poor to enjol himself, laments that his poverty forces him to stay on his estate in the countrywhere there is nothing bur scenery, olive-trees and oxen, nreflics and tulips-i{hen he rvould far rather live in the cirl to enjny ir' noise and bustle. Had I but pi€nty of money, noney enough and to spare, The house for me, no doubt, $/erc a house in the city{quarc; Ah, such a li{e, such a lite, as one leads at the windov therel r\\oon strikes.-Her€ sl{eeps the processionl Our Lady borne smiling and smart With a pink gauze go$'n all spangles, and scven swords stuck in her heartl Banguhanguhang Eoes the drum, taotlelelaatle the filei No keeping one's haunches still: its the greatest pleasurc in life.
.54
humorous incongruity of th€se sentim€nts, and the s complete lack of selfcriticism, ass re us that we t in calling it sadre. Browningt graver monologues, h contain no bitter wit and no satiric distortion (M) Duchess, SauI, Cleon) are varieties of dmma.'3 anorher, a more subde variant ot tbe satiricat
-ono' Lol'r'"rdc
!, we hear not fie timde of rhe satirist himseu, ,tot
{':l *tt'lh"
brlg oI his victim, but lhe voice oI the satirisL speaking ol a mask. Behind the mask his face may be dark with 6iwrifiing rvirh cont€mpt. But the voice-is-c?lm, somesoberlyjjLlleltr.lo_melim_es lightly amuied. The lips ihc mask and its leatures ate Persuasive, almgst real, q9-nJro-l!ed. Some of
those
ho hear the voice, and
lhc suave lips frcm which il lssrtes, are Persuaded that lhe utterance of truth and that the speaker believes ing be says. 3x*t.r,t is mask isJrony. The voice sPeaks a gross exaggeraor a falseh66d; knowing it to be exaggerated or false, Ennouncing it as s€rious tmth. Listening to it, inrellit men think. "Thal cannot be true. He cannot possibly that." Th€y realize that he means the reverse of what ltyg. For the truth is sometimes so contemPtible, someso silly, sometimes so outrageous, and sometimes, un" y, so familiar that people disregard it. Only when lcverse of such a tru$ is displayed as though it were l, can they be shocked into unde$tanding it. Someeven tlen they are not convinced. They attack the it as a provocalor, a liar. That is the penalty of being lrisu who uses irony. Arlsrode, rvho knew men and liked neat definilions, that irony was the opposite of boasting: it was mocky, dissimulation, self'depreciation.'" The best knoryn mple ot its pmctice is Socrates. After being pronounced I rovereign arthodty (the D€lphic omcie) the wisest
.55'
o-r't'l
DlATRIBE
the
orld, he went about asking peoPle queslions' To justily hit interrogations, he explained rhar hc himself knew nothjng: he wanted therefore, to learn from others who ere eminent men in their professions or convinced bclievers in their o n knowledge. Surely they knew more than he. Surely they understood rrhat they were doing and r'hy they r{'ere doing it. Y,3t under SocrateJ mild butsearching cross examination it usually transpired that they did not. Although they $'ere exPerb and he Posed as an ignoramus, his quesrioning proved ihat they knew nothing and did not even know they knels nothing. This "irony" of socrates Produced divergent elfects on the Athenians. Some admired it, and became his pupils Others detested it, and condemned him to death ln his time the word irony wiLh its cognales was uncomplimentary, In Aristophanes (l'ho is the first l'e know to have used it in his satire against Socrates, The CLauds) and later in Demoslhenes it is a harsh word, connoting sly cleverness. The type of irony is the fox; the user of iroly is something very like a hyPocrite Socrates himself is never: recorded as saying that "irony" defired his method of philosophizing; in the l\,orks of his pupil Plato the '$'ord is used (whe.her of Socrates or oI others) as a joke or a reproach. Il $as Plato's Ptrpil Aristolle $ho used irony in a good sense, to describe the gentle assumption of werk' ness and ignomnce, coupled ith a politc desire to be en lightened, rvhich was the characteristic dialeclic technique of Socrates; and he passed on the concePt of Socratic iront through the Romans to us. Yet it was mote than a tech_ nique o{ philosophical inv€stigation: i!. y"s 419 .1-y:1Pj" of satire. Again and again in Plato's polemical dialogues wa3E€6rites using irony to satirize peoPle and belieh thaL he distlusts. Sometimes it is so gentle that it may have puzzled them, but could scatcely wound them. Starting his interogarion of the brilliafltly versatile intellectual man in
.56.
DIATRIBE Oorgias, he does not raise an absLruse metaPhysical prob_ , but says to a pupil, "Ask him who he is." Sometimes ! aPpea$ so sincere thac the unwarl reader may believe
the uttemnce of truth: as rvhen, at the opening of ohexenw,he eulogizes the Athenian democratic orators, Itying that after he list€ns to their patriotic speeches, their volces keep echoing in his mind, and that it is four or five dlyr before he recovers and realizes he is not in heaven but
i
ln
.Athens.
The word "sarcasm" is often associated rvith irony. By dclivatior it m ii?nly ,.-ruel .ant biting spe€ch ol ary Ilnd. But no one would norv think of calling the curses of In general usage the $'ord means ironl f,lmon "urcusm. whose true underlying meaning is both so obvious that it
Ctnnot be misunderslood and so wounding that it cannot bc dismissed with a smile. Many oI Hamlefs bitterest ren0tk9 are o{ this kind. "Vouchsafe me a rvord rvith you," mys his false friend Guildenstern, and he rePlies, "sir, a whol€ history." Attempting politeness, the king asks, "How Itttcs ourcousin Hamlet?" and Hamlet answers, "Excellent, l' faich: of the chameleon's dish: I €at the air."50 "Dramaric irony" is a particular type oI theatrical effect tthich has no inberenl connection with satire and is not lclcvant here.rl
Centle irony and wounding sarcasric irony can be used nt yg4pglt_jl e!.ttpel of satire. They ar€, howev€r, rost lllcctive in monologue. where a 'k;lllul rariri\t .an. no$ )" Hud then. allor^ rl,e real Inrrh Io fla)h rhrough rhcmildl) mlored cloud oI dissimulation. The finest example of this ln Dnglish is a prose pamphlet publishcd by Jonathan 8qi[-q.-in 1729. Even in its titie we see the touch of the ftanistt A Mod.est Proqosal for Pre enting Lhe Children ol t oor PeopLe in lrelantl lrom Being a Burden to Their
r"i'
DIATRIEE Parents or Country,and for MalLing Them Beneficial to the P&rlic. It did not purport to be by Suift himself, bur by an
anonymous Irish patriot, rvhore motive in rvriting it was to benefit the kingdom of Ireland by solving one of i$ chief problems. The problem was that, under English domination, the fopulation of Ireland lras starving to d€ath. One radical solution, Irish independence, could not then be coneidered. Other measures of comptete social, financial, and moral reform I'ere obvious)y righr, and there, fore (Srvifi dought) \vould never be iniriated. So, behind the ironic mask of a philanthropist, he proposed a solurion which was couched in terms of blandly persuasive logic, but was so atrocious rhat no one could possibly rake ir as
This solution b thal, since too many Irish babies are being bol]-l, they should be treared, nor as human beings, but as animals. They should be slaughtered and enten. The besr age at which to eat them (flom th€ point of vie.lv of rhe consumers) would be one year, when, having been nursed by their molhers, they rvould be healtbiest, and their flesh tenderest. There is, Swifr remarks, a supplemenhry suggesdon, to let the children grorv to the age of trreh'e or thirteen and then serve rhem in place of venison, which is becoming unhappily scarce; but ro this proposal he objects, on rhe ground that the mear rould, at least in the males, be lean and tough. "And besides, ir is nol improbable that some scrupulous people mighr be apt 1() censure such a practice (alfiough indeed very unjustly) as a little bordering upon cruelty; rvhich, I confess, has ahvays been 1\'ith me the strongest objection against any project, ho$' well soever intended." cravely, wilh a sr,eerly reasonabie manner and an appearance of earnes! concern for a miscrable dorcn-trodden population, Sri'ifr enumerates the advanta$s of his modest proposal. Ic rvill diminish ttre number of papists, increase the annual income oI the couD-
.58.
DIATRlBE and raise the general standard of living. Even in outthis idea is horriblej the supporting arguments are ting; but Swift, who rvas long and deePly lacerated the restless ulcer of indignation, excels himself when go€s inlo the practical details. Coohi.ng and. seming."A child will make l\ro dishes li.e. 6eparate courses, {or instance chops and a roasL] at an tcrtainment for fri€ndsi andwhen the familydines alone, fore or hind quarter Nill make a reasonable dish, and, \'\'ith a little pepper or salt, will be very good ed on the fourth day, especially in rvinter." Other uses. "Those rvho are more thrifry (as I must fess the times require) may flay the carcase; the skin which, artifrcially dressed, wiU make admirable gloves Iadies, and summer boob for fine gentlemen." And the mosr difficult problem of all, the melhod of 16r. "As to our city of Dublin, shambles may be ted for this purpose in the most convenient parts It, and burchers, we may be assured, r{'ill not be rvancing; though I rather recommend buying the children alive dressing th€m [i.e. cooking th€m] hot from the knife, we do roasting pigs." ' ln a dozen pages, SwifL has writkn a perfect satir€. After over the variolrs advanlages of this tenible scheme, briefly considers and contempluously dismisses other lutions for the Iish problem: l\'hal we should call sensi! reforms, such as tardng absenlee Properly'orvners, .cul g off expinsive imports, and "teaching landlods to have It least one degree of mercy to{ard their tenalts " "Let ho man," he says ith bitterness flashing out, '1alk to me loe these and the like expedien$, till he has at least some 'Sllmpse of hope that there !!ill ever be some hearty and 'llncere attempt to put them in practice." The irony, tbe 'lcorn, and the despair of the salirit! can go no furth€r. llc has atrached the demoralized Irish poor, the dishonest
.59
DIATRIBE Irish mi.ldle'c1ass, the luxurious and indifierent ruling group, the pelty factionalism of all togefier, and the callous greedy En8lish. "We can incur no danger''' he
says
reassudngly, "in disobliging England- Ior lhis kind of commodiry linfants' meat] ]'ill not bear exportation, the flesh being of too tender a consistence to admit a long continuanc€ ir salt; although perhaPs I could name a co[nuy lvhich uould be glad to €ai uP our $rhole nation without it." Has satire ev€r had any immediate and visible efiect? Certainly Swifcs modest ProPosal had none Th€ rulers of Ireland did nol think for a moment of eating the Idsh chitdren. They merely rvent on letting them stan'e to death. Yet, fantastic as the ploposal t'as, it could not be called wholly unthinkable. Another plan to solve $e Problem of lreland, a plan which apProached this in boldness and actually outdid it in frnality, rvas seriously Put forlvard by an lri\h par(ior. t he unhrpp; Col"n,l frlward-D--e'p.rrd (one of Ihe ld\t mcn ro Le hangcd. dra\an aoJ quarlered for treason in England) told a frierd that he had discovered an infallible remedy for the miseries of his country: "viz, a voluntar:y separation of the sexes, so as to leave no future genemtion obnoxious to oPPression. This plan of cure would, he said, defy rhe machinaiions of the encmies oI Ireland to inLerrupt its complete success."6' Srvifr proposed regulatcd cannibalism, *'bich would hav€ k€Pt the Irish people alive although lowedng their rate of increase. Despard proposed mcial suicide, $'hich uotrld have extinguished the suficring narion forever in lhree generations. which i'as more extrcme? II Svrift. instead of recommending the sale, slaughter, cooking, and eating of babies, had witten a Modest Proposal suggesting that lhe Irish should liberate rhemselves from servitude by refusing to have children altogether, lvould that pamphlet not hav€ seemed to be a perfect satiie on a hopeless siluation?
.60.
DlATRIBE We said that irony rvas staring the reverse of LruLh as though it were clear truth. In Colonel Despard's suggestion, what had been irony in S$'ift became theoretical rruth, Ior it was seriously intended. And in or.rr orvn day, t'ith Adolf Hider's "linal solution to rhe Je$'ish problem" &'e have see;-Si{ilat outrageous fancasy-atmosf rivaled by reality. The heips of gold teeth extracted from the mouths of corpses, the hair cliPped from cadavers to be used as stuffing, the lampshades made of human skin, the m€dical experiments on living victims {o these not seem like the crazy imaginings of some perverse saLirist, rather than Part of the history of our own times? Anorhermurant of lhes:rliri.al monologue i''hrr."i'I'l' was app.rrenrly inrenred by Hora.e: rhglSller' in v'rsc. or '' e!en in pro'e. Thir is \omerime' in danger ol lo'ing rhe '' full energy of \arire. br be.oming ralm. suave. ea'r eoing. or else by being purely Personal and avoiding public problems and general moral judgments. Even so, some of tslotr'"\ I "ttt^ xtt in prrr 'rriri,rt ,nn '",', 1t1''e ol
hi, ,l ^e: n','Je'n ' ounrc,prr,'. Hoile.u rnd Pop. h dre rh, , omr,
Amon. rlr, ' .,rlre.r inr.grflI'arir,. in Fr' rri letters cailed .oqr-,i-l'dt", rvritten by Climent Marot in thc early sixteenrh century. They are in one of the favorite meters of light easy satire, octosyllabic couPlets; ihey contain rath€r too many p€rsonal touches and transie)t lampoons to be successful satire: still, they lvere popular in their day." Several good scorners and haters have addressed their enemies in prose letters which contained enough good wit, vari€ty, and venom to be called satirical. St. inrenre 'erious_ Jerome s bitter humorless nature and his yet his letters often true satiris!: being a him from ness kept of satire."" lack the vigor approach the vivacity and never The famous letters in which "Junius" aftacked George III and his govemment ale surely among the masterpieces of
'61
.
^\'.1 .'" '
-.
DIATRIBE satirical prose. Therc is somerhing (as Pepys $,ould say) miehty pleasant in I'atching rhe contiouity oI satire, seeing satirists admire one another, qrore one another, even use one anorher as characters. It is parricularly delightlul to find, ar the climax of ByroD's Vision ol lud,gment, Inrlins hilllself appearing, and described in such a way as to be a very Persorifrcation of satire. Th" \,r.dow .rmc-r Llt. rt,in. gr.\.h.,;red figure, That looked ns it had been a shade on earth; qujck in its morions, wirh an air of v;gour. . . ; Now ir waxed lit!]e, tlren again grew bigger, I4rirh no\r' an air of gloom, or savage mir$; Bur as lou gazed upon irs features, rhey Changed €very insrant. . .
.
'Ihe moment that you hnd pronounced him
one,
Prestol hjs fac€ .hanged, and he was anorher; And when rhat change was hardll ryell put on, Ir varied, rill I don r think his o$n morher ( thar he had a morher) would h€r son Have known, h€ shift€d so from one ro Corher.'6
{u,i..u . d"^"'--
\errnorhcr \nrilnr ot rtre \imp'e monologue i, rhed,!, arlrngedrliilogue. During gowrh pcriod ot rhe Com'he munist paty in the West, this was one of its lavorite techniques. The Communisr deparmrent called Agirprop (for Agitation and Propaganda) used to send its agents out in teams, into areas where conditions were favorable for pro_ voking "revolurionary acrion." An ,'activist" or a ,,cadre" would call a meeting outside a factory at the noon hour, and make a brief porve ul milirant speech. Before any of the ordinary audience could raise a.wkward objecrions to his statements, or voice opposition to his assumptions, a member of his team, posing as a simple man in the crowd, 'would ask a poinred question, Ior hich the speaker was already prepared rvith a convincing answer. Afrer that ex_
.62.
DIATRIBE change another notional heckler rvould intervene with another problem, which the speaker would again solve effectively, and so oD unlil iL $'as nearly time for the mee!ing to close. Then the questioners rvould Proclaim th€ir complete satisfaction: "You're righl, brother," they would cry, "I see the tricks of the exploit€$ norvl lvhere do I sign up? Right here? Goodl Come on, norv, friend, you heard all that too, didn't you?" In philosophy this particular rick goes back to the techdque of Socrat!.s, as represenled by Plato. In the earliest Plaronir dia)ogues. \ocrarcs is shown a. quesLioning. argu ing, and meeting dimcult and stubbom opposition. But in the dialogues \'\'hich Plato wrole lat€r, SocraGs puts out his theories in a flow of talk which is virtually continuous, broken only by enquiries ffom his heare$ r'hich make part of the sheam of his thought ("Why do you say thal?" "So it would appear, Socrates") and encourage him to go on explaining in detail. In the same rvay, rhe popular teache$ oI philosophy such as Bion used to interrupt their owr discourses to conjure up an imaginary opponent-a member of a rival schooi of philosophy or a hosLile member of the crowd-whose objections they would state, and then ridicule, ara ther deslloy. Such a conversation, although it contains questions and replies, is not a true dialogue, because it is not the spontaneous talk of two peopl€ who are genuinely exchanging their Iho,ughrs on in €qual ba!;s. II is a,Inonologoe, dis guised. and pun(rualed by preset quesrion". But becruqe it is sometimes livelier than a continuous monologue, it maks good reading; and, in the hands of a poei who can wrire briqk colloquial erchanges. ir can be Lr;l! dramaric. Here is Pope, jusdfying his o1vn satire and defending him" sell against the charge of libeling his victims. '
63.
DIATRIBE Who rur\€d d sisrer, $ho forswor€ a debt, I never namedj the town's inquiring )et. The poisoning dameF. You meanP.
I
don't. F. You do
.P.
now I keep the secret, and not youl The bribins sutesman" F Hold. roo high You 80' The bribed el€ctorF. There You stooP too lowlt In such conveNations the satirist himself is usually the pdncipal sPeaker. He addresses a friend, or a critic Often 'tt. ttl" satire with a Protest, as though he were in "p""t the middle of a heated discussion; or he starts by uttering, or by anssering. a Pro\o(il;\e remark: tlren he conlinues he silences hir inrerlocuror and \\'in' his point For ',nrii examole. rhe finr saLire in the 6r'l book of Horace is a diarrite again.r rhe a(cumulalion of rveahh pun'tuared by obiecrions hom a miser. {lt ir inrroduced by ashorr dis' .nut.. on ftrlnnn di\(onlenr' iddressed to Maecena' Homcek lriend and Patron; but that is merely a gesture o[ Dolireners. Maecenas himse]l was so ri' h Ihal he had no n..d ,o *or-o abouL maling money. and \o indolcnr thar he woulal never have alreamed, like the objects of Horace's satirical attack, of risking his lile for it.) Sometimes, in the technique of the Agitprop speaken, the satirist pretends to be answering various objections from different sides, voiced by faceless peoPle who emerge Irom the crowd, each with his own question, and then vanish again. Sometimes, again, he himself is the 'ttraight man" and asks the questions. The Protagonist of the satire, or a witfless to th; scene desdibed, 01 some oihel talkative inter" locutor, replies, at leng$ and in detail. This is the method of Horace 2.8, an account of a Pr€tentious dinner' Here See,
.64.
DIATRIBE the technique once again r€minds us of Plato, who some' times makes a lnan lvho lras Present at an imporrant discussion repeat it in comPlerc detail to someone ho
it. o' rn another variation, the '1t4:l!.blHpllj!-q-l$99led the inlo criricized. and replie\i but m6ii ol I he larire ir Put . rr,d, means thar rhe vrir; isa iusrained -."Lftri'i.iii *oldi;e;;inh the satirisr apparenrly tries to anrner' bul wirhoui succes, HoLace r)pically elusive and ironical' wrote this unusual and dimcult type of sadr€ beautifully Such is the s€venth satire o,f his- s€cond book, in which his own sluve-rely-ing on the traditional fr€edom of sPeech granteal to servanls at lhe Saturnalian holiday addresses him rvith a string ot sevete reproaches on the inconsisten" cies of his behavior and the weaLness€s of his characLer' The reproaches are perfectly true, as Horace admits by becoming furious and driving his candid seNant out of the room; and, what is quite as amusinS, they are couched in exactly the same tone as Horace's admonitory sarires addressed by himself to others missed
sariric monoloaues,over almo.r^9!erlY rl'eme *hhh hu'l P#\'* ;; P;;uot idp'or.'r. so 't''o' ir Nould be 6 r0 'L"t .'.lJ;.'i'i". rnpr"i,"tr. to ly r'o-,la'.ify iheir subjea' Bur we rrn r>]'to"'"j say thar rhey and rheir varianls [all inlo l\o chiPr f'r'erns: irrrovert and extraverr' The inlroverl monologxe' \"irh ;h.l.i;.i and rhe dialoguer a'e u'urllv quiel talks delivered to a single individual or to a small group of friends: we are permitted to ov€rhear them The exlm" vert monologues, on the other hand, are viSorous protests' aimed at awakening and instructing the nindless public, 'lehich has hitherto beer lerrifred into silence or sunk in lethargy. Some monologists in satire us€ the concealed microphone; others the loudsPeaker' lvhatever the in-
,h;ffi;;;.
.65.
DIATRIAE strument, the satirist's own voice is nearly always heard through it. But sometimes the satirist hides. He speaks, but in a disguised voice. He wears a mask, through rvhich we see only a pair of bright sharp eyes. Of the antithetical pair of precepts given in the Book of Proverbs, h€ follows the secald: Ansuer aloaL accord;ng to his |o|ry, btt he be wise i.n his oun conceit. He is the satirist lvho works through parody.
O,il :?
k:;l
eH \t3
RY. "69'-
L
"'
PARODY I,IARODY
ND ]\{IIf ICRY
ARop).
is-one ,of- the, .mrst.d,elightlul -forms of sarire, one of Lhe rnost natural, p9rh.a!s tlre most springs ihe_.most ;bsi elte.ltrv,e.,lt efiective. Ir sl sati-sfying, 'i'rig, ..iirii-6iGii 1ld.olren i6e .omedv, t't;*-i' te,1 heart hean ot of our o'rL sense sen.. ol oI comedy, which irom rhee very 'f'. huppy-p9rc!,ijdon ;f fitoiiEiniq:'A tirtl€ boy and a little glrl sitlirlg at th€ head and fooa of thc dining-table, gazing gtavely at eacL oLher, taltdng 1l'i!h exaggerared seriousness ln adult phrases, saying "Hush, dear" to their parents, and weadng, on€ a false moustache and the olher a spangled ovening bornet, are parodying, and thereby satirizing, the rclemnity of all gro n-ups and in parricular the porten' ltous audrority oI their mother and father. A great clown tuch as Grock laboriously shifring tbe piano to\\'ard the pirno-stool, setting the height of lhe sell wilh microscopic precision, rclling up his sleeves, arching his eyebrorm, gazlng uprvard in anguished concentradon, and then playing one brief rwo norc discord, is a criticism of all the romanric musicians rvho ever paraded their sensibilities on lhe concert platform. (I once sarv VJaclintir de Pachmann stop bclore attacking a group of Chopin picces, and refuse to conthrr€ until a red haired lady rvearing a purple hat was rcmo\ed lrom his line ot vi'ion.\ NeverLheless, parody is not merely distortion; and mere dls.ggrjtg1r-!_,191_*91re. The underprivilesed adolei,rir who pencils a beard on the face of the pretty model's phobgraph in the subway stalion is not indulging in parody, but simply in deliberate disfigurement, the envious dcgtruction of the unattainable. when Marcel Duchamp cxhibited a reproduction of the Mona Lisa to which lle hnd attached a moustache, a goatee, and an opprobrious
.67'
PAIIODf tide, he was scarcely satidzing academic arl: he was merely insuldng it.' Consider also the nlrmerous paintings by seriou. moLlern arrisrr \vhiLh are adaptation" or rravesr;es of "classical" pictures: Picasso's variadons on Velazquez' "Las Meninas," Manet's "Picnic on ahe Grass."' Their divergence from their nodels we 6nd iflteresting and lively: iI it is sometimes a little grotesque, it is surely not insulting, and it carries no implication of contempt or hostility. Nor all distor.ion, then, is parody. And pllody..is-nor simplf.i43ti"". The mocking-bird is not a mocker: he imitares the songs of other birds through honest pleasure in their beauty and in his o\'\,n agility. If a copy amuses its hearers and readers, and pleases them with the acclrracy of its imitation, but leaves rhem quite rnshaken in thcir admiration of the original, fecling no scorn for it and seeing no weakness ahey had not seen before, then it is no parody, and it is not satirical. But if it wound! tle oliginal (however slightly), pointing out faulrs, reve?l in g_hiddeJr ailectation! e4phl:f?it1d,qb-g(airs.s-!'rla di*.i$lyle!,j!qcii.,:lihen-ii iiatiric parody. There hav€ been many famous mimics who could copy to pe ection the i,oices and manners of eminena men and women. When such a mime reproduces th€ speech and gair of lris original wiLh phorogripl,i, preri.ion. Lhe audience crie, our, in admimtion of his skill, "Marvelousl Exac.ly liket" and its attention is cent€red on the magical abilily of a good actor to change himselt into a difierent personality. But $'hen he exaggerates the faults and rnderscores the foibles of his victim, so lhar the audience sees something new and ridiculous, or contemptible, or hateful, in the character of rhe penon mimicked, and laughs with a certain malicious delight, and thereafter admires the original a little less than it did before seeing thar cruel portrait-rhen the acr is parody, and the etrecj i,l pr_od_rccs-.ir-1!: g{"!r_9!-rg'19
.68.
il,"f,.i-! - sliJ:r.' cr,tt t,t"* l. skel:ll.-3nd portrait a between lhe difierence t ld 1911i!1: urc. Both resemble the subject; but one is inte ded to uce the most central and tyPical features of its 1, and the other (however delicately) to distort, to cllttle, to wound. Parody, ihen, is one of dre chief shapes rvbich sacire mes. We may define it as igltqion lvhich, thrcugh cxd8ge'arion. e!otes Jmuscmenr' der;(ion dl*orLion
3" ;:,
lnd
\
f
{
-and
somelrmes
E
scorn,"
It is tempting to divide parodies into
lormal and marerial. When we Ihink ot parody. we ate apL fo inGi n iir .ri,ii .r dn ?x/,'ndl ,e\(mbldn.e ber\.,een rhe original and ;ts parodic copy. For instance, A. E. Housm^n's Fragmcnt ol a Grcch Tmgedy is a brilliant parody, primarily of the affectations of style rvhich aPPear in nearly lll Greek tngedies and of the over-scruPulously exact llngtish translations rvhich ra'ere curr€nt in the later ninettcnth c€ntury; and, secondarily, of the peculiar Greek drnmatic convention which demands thaL the climactic tct$ of violence be committed ofi stage, while the chorus femains in full vie\v of the audience, uttering helPless protests and solemn generalizations. Yet lvhal is actually alot?e in Housman's parodic tragedy is not far out of line wirh rhe average Greek amsic drama. It is the fanlastic lan' $uge rvhich starts us laughing, and although the crime of matricide js being committed-keeps us laughing to the tnd: for allhough every single idiom and image in the prtody can be paralleied from one or more of the Greek tngedians, none of them ever heaped uP so many bold metaphors and odd locurions lvithin such a close compass i0 Housman does. He takes only the extremes and lhe cccentricities, and groups them into a montage rvhich is {umulatively absurd.
'69,
l!iF.:
tleo main q'pes: Lr6",r,' .1
"1v. .1. .,:".t PARODY pajglies. Many religious satires are of this nature. ,n f'oi'crl'ra them, a dtual patLern is preserv€d unairered, bur the thought within it is coarsened, made crueller or more violent, altered into selfuhness or alsurdity; and so, by contrast rvith fie pious words and r.everen! formulae $'hich calry it, is satirized. Robert Burns has a fine poem called
PARODY O suitably-attircd-inleather-boots Head of a traveller,a wherefore s€eking whom Whence by what w_ay how purposed art thou
To this well-nightingal€d vicinity? My object in enquidng is to know' . But it you happen to be deaf and dumb And do not undentand a word I say, Then ave your hand to signify as much.6 Alcmaeot I jotneyed hither a Boeotian road. Chorust Sailing on honeback, or with feet for oars? Alcrnaeon: Plting .,firh speed my partnership of legs. Chor t Beneath a shining or a miny Zeus? ,4lradeorr Mud's sister, not hims€if, adorns my sho€s. Chatust To leam lour name would Dot dhplease me much.
Alcnaeon: Nor all that men desire do they obtain. Chotus: Mighc I then hear ar uhat your presence shftrs? Ahmaeont A shepherd's questioned mouth informed me
Chorus.
that-
I know not yet what you witl say.6 you ev€r, if you inielrupt. Charust lroceed, and I wilt hold my speechless tongu€. Alcmaeon: --Th,is holse was E phyla's, no one's else. Chorus: Nor did h€ shame his throat ith haretul li€s. Alonaeon: May l then enter, passing through the doori Chorlts. co, chase into the house a lucky foor, And, O my son, be, on the one hand, good, And do not, on dre other hand, be bad, For tbat is rery much the safest plan. What? For
Alcmaeo Nor w|ll
I
vinist deity worshipped by many of Blrns's Scottish contemporaries. (When I rvas a young Scoatish churchgoer, brought up in doctrines not too far rcmoved fiom Calvinism, and perfectly unable ro conceilethat they might be open to intelligent criticism,I was incapable ofunderstand, ing why the poem was so much disliled b)' my elders ald bertels.) It is couched in the ritually.o ecr form, opening with an invocation to the diviniry and a statement oI his pow€r, proc€eding to his special reladon to the $'orshipper, th€n moving through a series of petitions, and concluding
rvith an ascription of glory to his name. Its shape-apart from the verse'form, rvhich is convertional and far from jocular-is correct. \\4rat makes it a parodl is the distortion and exaggeration, the brutal frankness atd rhe unctuolrs hypocrisy, which mould its thought.
O Thou that in the heavens l/ha, as it pleases best Thlsel, Sends ane
10
l€ll,
A' Ior Thy glory; - And no tor ony guid or ill
In
al1 this, and in the rcst ot the Fragment, the lhought is normal for Greek tragedy. The stress is on the massed absurdities of irs expression. Yet there are other sariric parodies in rrhich rhe form is maintained virtually unahered, r,rithout exaggeradon, rvitholrt distortion, $'hile the thought rvithin ir is made hideously inappropiate to the form, or inwardly distorted, or comically €xpanded. These mighr be called mareri4t
to heaven and ten
does dwelll
They ve done b€fore Theel
|
T blF* and tr"ir rh) m.,r, hlp . nighr. $rhen fiousands Thon hast le{t in night, That I am h€re before Thy sighr, For gifts and grace A burning and a shining light, To a' this place.
'71.
P
A&O
DI
PARODf
Now, this is r\rhat many have thought, but few have said. (In essence, it is an expansion of the pnyer of the Pharisee in Luke r8.r r-a prayer which is itself fictional, and even sariri,al, being part ol a bold and deYisive contrast in one of Jesus' parables.) It is through iLs imProbable ftankness, its self-adoration disguised as arveslruck humiliry, and its loving mul.iplicity of detail that Hol) Willie's PraYer ac' quires the exaggeration and disrortioD chatacreristic of parody. And y€t many of ics sepanle sections look quite serious and autheDtic. Only two generations before Burns wrote it, the lamous English hymnist Isaac Watts, in his "Praise lor the Gospel," was singing: Lord, I ascribe ir to ThY gmce, And not to chance, as oth€rs do, That I was borr of Christian race, AnJ nor . Herrhen. or a J"q Holy Wiltie's final petition is so close to dle thought of many genuine supplications to the Almighty that it almost ceases to be amusing. Ru(, Lord, remember mc and mine wi mercies temporal and divine;
That
I
for grace and gear* mal shine,
Excelled by nanel And a' the glory shall be Thine, AMNNI
^MINI At this point parody almost coincides with reality. Indeed, some of the best marerial parodies are those vhich might, by the unwary, be accepted as genuine work of the original author or style Parodied. I believe, although I do not know for certain, that one example of this is the queslion which everyone nowadays believes was actually discussed by medieval scholar:s:
Hou nary
ang€Is .an dance on the
p.'int ol a
needle?
,Thomas Aquinas and other scholastic Philosophers were
ced deeply interested in angels, and in lhe peculiar blems presented by the co:Freal nature of- ang€ls, must logically be l.* iJoiai"i!-iii g.:ois-i;ni"icat than the bodies of human beings. They asked, for whether an angel could be in two places simul_ : shether an angel rould move hom one point 'another in space, without traversing the intermediate ts; and wherher fivo or more angels could occupy the space. The schoolmen's discussions of some o{ these blems do appear nowadays to be sttangely subtle, but were framed seriously and they lvere seriously disBut the question about angels dancing on a needlct t is not Immed seriously. It is therefore a satirical . A momenCs reflection will of medieval that the form of the question is rrong. A medieval osopherlvould not picture a group ofangels as dancing, conceive them so small as to be associated with a needle, imagine them in such a paradoxical act as dancing on steel point. I leel sure, therefore, thal this is a parody; I bave not be€n able to discover rvho first created it. are some things like it in the annals of the Scriblerus ; bur perhaps Ihe lileliesr aurhor of the hoax is Vol. re, Whoever inv€nted it, the problem is now accepted genuine. It is not thought to be an absurd parodic exagtion, but a typical and authentic instance of the supermtiocinarion ot med;eval thinlers. I once had the pleasure of actually s€eing a neiv parody pose its€lf on the public, at least for a time, as the genne article. On July 13th, 1942, southbound on a train Washington, I opened the Nd?, Yorh lforld-Telegtum ! th€ page then occupied by its cbiel columnists and comlarors. In those days fte birter and vindictive WesF took Pegler used to fill the top of the page with rancorous t on his thousands ol victims and enemies, while
'73'
PARODf
PARODY the bland and saccharine Eleanor Roosevelt, with a neive and warm bearted chronicle of her doings day by day, ap peared at the foot. On this prrticuiar afternoon the Piecc undcr Westbrook Pegler's name opened like this: Yesterday moming
I
took a train to New York and sat
beside a g€ntleman who was rcading the rqqt Report oi the lnternational Recording Secretary of lhc World Home Eco nonics and Children s Aptitude and Recreation Fodnd!tion,
of which my very good friend, Dr- Nfary NlcTwaddle, formerly of Vassar, is the American delegate. This arouscd y interest and I vetrtured to rcmark drat I had once had the pleasure of entertaidng a group of toung people vho were deeply concemed with the negle.ted problem of the Un' ma ied lather- It tumed out that the gentleman himself wrs an unmarried father so wc had a very iDteresting chat uniil h€ got ofi at M€tuchen. In the afternoon a group of youDg people came in for tea and we had a discussion of the efi€ct ot early environmeDt oD the emciency of war aorkers. I am afraid environmenrr ;s more importaDt than many ot us think and I have asked the Depatm€nt of Agriculture to Dake a suney. of coursc some people have more than others but then, I am afram, very oft€n the relerse is true and that is something that one cannot dismiss lightly these days.
Alter some further paragiaphs in this vein, rhe piece ended rvith a frank and clear'eyed vision ofa profound truth.
I
read Ludwig Donnervelter's All b nlerythingIt is very beautiful and brings out po1\'e ully the struggle of the young people to organize their world through stu.lent collabontion and discussion. I som€times think e secm to miss maDy opportunities for better urderstanding because p€oplcs are set apart by diFeren.es in language.
In
bed
The enrire article was a very close imitation of Mrs. Roosevelts intimately personal style, het idealistic outlook, and her infinite capacity for generalization. (Like the shipt captain in one of Joseph Conrad's novels, Mrs. Roosevelt tends to "enunciate platitudes, not with the desire to dazzle,
.74.
I lrom honesL conviction.") Th€re r'€re no introductory !ks, no cautionary footnotes, nothingbut the signature Mr. Iegler to indicate that fie piece did not come from f!, RoosevelCs well-lubricated typelvriter. For a moment, ted. Could the arricle actually be by Mrs. Roosevelt, had it been misplac€d by a careless printer? But no, Was too absurd, and besides, there was Mrs. R. henelf, tling away in her accustomed place at the foot of the I reread the parody, and then looked rcund the . Eight orlrer men vere rcadJng the ,yorld-Tele. One by one, I saw them all go through the same erience. They started to read Pegler's parodic "My Day." qy stopped. They glanced down the page in puzzlement, lce whether Mrs. Roosevelt had slipped, or been pushed, tairs. They lound her. They looked back at Mr. Pegler's ; and then, al val,ing speeds and with varying degrees
amusement (depending on their intelligence and their
lltical sympathies), they began to savor the peculiar ure of satiric parody. The same nervspaper published, in r96o, another admiray close travesty, a Slardard Speech to the United Natians izalior, suitable for all occasions. Alchough it is a y, yet the speech could, wirh very litrle modifrcation, seiiously delivered and seriously heard. Mr, Chairman: On behalf of my delegation, my gov€rnmenr, and ihe people of my country, I wish to congratularc )ou and your
dlstinguished colleagxes on
(a) election
(b) rc-election (c) national inclependence day (d) successlnl survival of earhqlrake, revolurion, &c. (choose one as apprcpriate.) This being the firsr occasion during rhis session on whjch I have had the honor to address this distinguished committee, I would like to ofier my sirceresr congratuladons
.75.
P
PARODY (a) thc Secrctrr Y Ceneral lbr the A-i'rJnr Se,r'rar\ CenerJl i'r rh" *',.'',' ot rhe ,bnnrirr" kc tchaoi an ' on lsee abou, and choase ane) Tirere is a proverb in my country (quote in orilinat tanguage).
lsLh to r'marrer "i our dcb'rF state b efiy the views ol my gov€rnment on rhose viral issues which are involved. It is not neccssarv to rePeat in this conn€clion 1'hat was said (a) last year i"
ri,rn now ro
rl..uuie,
(b) n year aeo (c) two, three, tour,
&c. Years ago
by
(a) ml minist€r ot loreign atrairs (b) ny Prine minister (c) the head or mY delegarion Gl) my colleagu€ (e) myseu in this very (b) A$cmbly hal1 G) corridor (d) bar (€) washroon, &c. I need not do so for two reasons Th€ lirst is that I am sure the words rpokelr then arc still as Perlinent today as tliev were then. The second reason is fiat nothing thal has oc curred in the inte rl makes it Possible for me to hope that more attention will be Paid to our statemenis in the future dran they have receive.l in the Past ?
NIany of tbe frnest Political and religiorts satires are of rhe original . I allffi;]ii;i6ff;, and merely distort $e conrent a lirtle) usually making it lralker and more realistic. Burns sct i down in his PraJer rlrc secret thoughts of a stem sell righteous Calvinisl. So Abraham a Sancta Clara says tbat rhe $'orld is a thcatre, in which the part of Mammon is .mareriat parodies. Th€y Presewe the form
'76 '
ARO DY
ack.l by Pmenobilit Dominus Alllelius Goldacker' A worshipper sings to him this litany: Silver have mercy on us Gold have mercy on us
Silver hear us
cold hear
us
Silv€r, Father of Turmoil, have Pity on us
Gold, Conroler of the World, have Pity on us.r Blending political with religious satire, the British radi' cal HeDry Labouchere Produced a Parody of the nalional anth€m, which kept $e meter, the rhyme scheme, and the refrain of lhe original unaltered, but changed the sub.iect" matter: to a r.ealistic statement of fact about the prolifrc and profligate family of Queen Victoria Gramlchildren not a few, with gr€at-grandchildr€n too, She ble't ha' been we've been thei. sureties, Paid them gratuiti€s, Pensions, annuities.
God Save the Queen.'g
On hearing of this, Her Majesry was nor rmnsed- Yet the facts were unimpeachable, and the final sentiment unobjec_ tionable. The good Queen lvould surely have been even less amused if she had foreseen that Max Beerbohm would nol or y chedsh wilh mock reverence a coPy of her diary' Leaues trom the lournal of o t Life in the HighLands, b\rt embellish it with comments lvhose style equals th€ Platitudinous viscidity of the original, actually written in a close imitation of her own imPerial and royal handwriting lo For rhere ir a poinr ar rvhi, h.;n order ro 'ariri,'e.Frtrin authors or artists or: personalities, it almost becomes superfluou' to parody rl,em. '1 he unforlunare )oung cou,tier uho v€ntured to imitate Queen victoria, in (if th€ ex_ pression is permissibte) the flesh, may not have been car:i-
PAROD! caturing her at ail. Certainly Max Beerbohm did nolhing more than rvrit€ appropiiately Victodan comments in Victoda's orvn published diary; and yet borh mimicrie$ had the effect of satire. Perhaps \re naturally eljoy th€ in congruiry \{hich ensrcs when anyone compararively unimPortant copies the mannen of someone majestic and alve some. Bu! perhaps also cctain very grand people, and grave books, and amb;tious r{orks of art, are already very close to being absurd, so that thcy are apt, r,irh rhe slightesr aberration in their taste or the sliehtesl deviation of public opinion, to become exquisitely ddiclrlous. We do nor laugh at Queen Victoria as a monarch. Ahhough she was selfr{llcd about th€ duties she conceived to be hers, she per formed them, or most oI rhem, fairhtully and emciently. '!Ve laugh at her as a person, because she rvas shallors ancl pompous, and beca[se she insisred, through obrruding ]rcr private emotional life on the norice of dle public, on being obseryed as an individual, ard therefore on subjectine herself to pe$onal criticism which she was ill-equipp€d to sustain. Sincc Q.reen Victoria lacked rhe poner of self-criticism, it r,as scarcely necessary for anyone to parody her. So also, iI, r'idrout excessive rercrence and tvith our sense of the absurd alert and lively, rl'e examine the I'orks of many distilguished authors, $e shall find tl)cm studdcd l\'irh eenuine passages rvhich cqual and somerimes exc€l rhe burlesques of the most $fled parodist. In the same year,
n;i'b r. \Voll,*onl' iornn.rd hi\ heariilut / ia"( dbou, Ti n t r n 4 bbe\. ]rc p"odu, ed a I,,ll/d rvhi, lr opens r,ru,: Ohl $'hafs thc
lfhat
is
matrer? $,hats the matter?
t rhat ails
)or s Ilrrrl
anyonc \{,ho i' ouffiticnr'y inrere'terl to puriue rhe I vecomect inro rhe more rar"ned air ot 'elt-prrody, an anthology o{ such delicate monslers dra$'n front works of many famous English bards. It was edi.ed by D, Wyndham Lervis and Charles Lee, and published in , \ts title, Tltc Stufed..,oarl, comes frorn a sonnet by worth, little knorvn but full of dcep emotion. Miss Jewsbury, it seems, had been ill lor a long [ime, and only constant companion had becn (in Wordsworth's 0e) "the inanimate object on r,hich this Sonner turns." as the Poct Laur:eate obse ed, too rarely prop th€ id head. Yet, helped by G€nius-untired Comtorter, The prcs€ncc cvcn of a stufied Owl for her Can rl-"ar rhe rimF: .Fn,ling h"' r"n, ) our To ivied castles aDd to moonlighr skies, Though hp..,n n-irher \ri' a plu{e. nor shourl
. erl.J.' Nor \ril, \i,1, t'.,1,\s 6lm. his \l],ing ()e".s i. h dilFcult ro aroid 'he rhoughr rhrr Word.lvorh. at p:) Ough he felr a deep and rrue s)mpdrhy IoL poor si' kly ,. Itt.fcwsbun. had more in .ommon. by rhJr rime. wirh ![uf[€d owl. ln all English poetry there is no sell isr to equdl \Vil';Jm Wo'd(\orrlr, alrhough FTra Sl runs tii- ".ry .tose. His peculiar achie,r.-.nirias nllrlbly summed up in a parodic sonnet byJ. K. Stephen:
.
'fwo voices are there: one is of the deep!
It
cilt?
That cvcrmore his icctir thev chatter, Chatter, chatter, chatter still;1r In thlt year also Wordsrvorth de$cribed a case in verses almost as painlul as the disease:
PARODY few monthl of iife has he in store, As he to yon will tcll, Ior still, the more he works, thc more Do his veak ankles swell.'x
of cdena.
learns the storm cloud's thunderous melody, Now ro.'.. noq murmuF si h rh",l,.,nginF "e Now birdlike pipes, now closes sort in sleep: And one is of an old half-$'itted sheep Which bleats articuiate monotony, And indicates that t o an.l oDe are thrce,
'79.
.
", '1,
P,,(RIDl
t,4.l.o6r That grass is green, lakes damp, and mountaiDs stcep: {nJ, \\o) 1.\"r1, b"rh ar, rhin,; Jr,.,,Jin im* Forrh from thc heart of thy mglodious rhymes The form an.t pressure of high thoughb witl burst: At other times good Lordl I'd rathcr be Quite unacquainted with the A.B.C. Than write such hopeless rubbjsh as thy worst 1.
lon o[ the proud
hes, like the Achaeans and the Trojans; and the poet ates their exploits with the same grave dedicated energy
Flomer in the
ft is sometimes possible to classify satiric par:odies as wc have done, distinguishing those which are chiefly material parodies (like the religious and polirical sarires) from thosc
The
to dissociate them. Ior an example, let us take tl{'o famous poetic parodics which appear ar first sight to be diametdcally opposire ro each other in purpose. On€ is a miniatuie Greek €pic poem called The Battle-of-Ftags-and Mice, apparcnrly I'riften in the fifih century B.C. by an author no$' unkrorvn.l5 Thc other is a satirical narrarive in English versc called Tll Vision ol Judgmenl, writ.en by Lord Byron ir 1821. Onc is light and flimsy, the other rich and thoughtful. They both have one virtue which is not common among parodier: they are amusing even if you do not know the originals which they are satirizing. No\,t, The Rattle ol Frags and. Mt.d is a careful and clever travesty of rhe styte oI Homeric epic poetry. Ir is iI strong and melodious hexameler ve$e, full of traditiorul epithets and lofty rvords and bardic tums of phrase. Il describes a savage war, which rages so violendy thar th(l gods themselves arc compelled to intervene. Its heroes hxvc noble compound names. Thus, the herald of rhe mice js introduced in a long,resounding hexamerer:
.80.
named SaucePan-iDvader''"
g champions do deeds of prolv€ss and deal mighty nds and slay their opponents rvith the same high ilan lhe princes who fought on the ringing plains of windy . They address one another: in haughry chivalrous
?. ?ARODY OI FORNI AND IARODY O! CONTINT
which (like Housman's skit on creek tmg€dy) are mainly concerned $'ith form. Yel form and matter are so .loselv con;aiied in tiiliaiure that it is often dimcult ancl unlvi$:
Chccse scooper was he,
lliad. In fact, the main differenc€ beLween Battle ol Frogs and, Mice and t]I.e lliad is a matter of The heroes oI lhe llidri are mighty men. The heroes
Battle e \etfii'i,
whose one-day war is broken up miniature monslers, Srandly and gro!n incu$ion ot
uely described:
B,rrrr-r on 1'Roos AND tr'IIcx ii\
-
'\ '\,,1
t.or(l Li&Platter lell to the gallant. Couch in the'Mudhole, 1, in the hea.l, by a last bould(r: out ltom his hruinqan Itis hrain through his nostrils the c&rth uas bespattereduilh
PARODT Then dlere came suddcniy on, crook clars and carapace slantwis€ a
atking and nippcr-bcjaved and bandy, rhc
skev tolk, notch-in-the-arm, every one, €ighr footcd,
$irh
eyes
in thc
double of horn aDd tireless of body, rhe people whom men call
At first sight, 1\'e should judge thar this was a sarire on the style of Flomer, and of rhe poets who followed him in
r
1,rir.1ri
plf'*i'r
epic. Homer is devoLed to rhe sublime. In tl,e lliad, pa'ticLrlarly. nearly everyrhing is over Iile5i/e, ernorions arF intense, acts are superb and dmmatic, rhe language is frerce and haughry. Sutely, Lhen, The Conflict of the WeIl. Gretlued Bekachia and the Suift-footed Roderrr is in, tended to satirize the old-fashioned, periphrastic, inllared style of the Homeric epics. It does so through a favorite device of srylisric parody. By applying Homer's manner to subjectr smaller and meaner tha[ his own, it makes us feel that the Homeric style is, even when applied to men, exaggerated, theatrical, and bogus. There is a pleasant parallel in modern orchesffal music: Erno von D6hnanyi's trtariations for Piano and OrchestrtL. As the piece opens, the piano remains silcnt, rvhile the orchesrra plays an impressive inrroduction in the latc romanric style, something $'hich might be the overrure to a tragic opera by Richard Stnuss. Ominous chords rise slo$'ly, groping like blinded giants. The most Iormid.rble sounds of the full orchestr:a mass themselves more and more thickly: cumrlonimbus gathering before a tempest. Somber and menacing blasts from homs and trombones fiU the air like the groans of a Tilan rormented. Crescenalo, sforzanal.r, the mlrsic torre$ up to an arvesome fordssimo, and then stops. We a$'ait some tftmendous utrcrance. The piano enters. With one finger, the pianist plays the simpte rune
.82.
PARODY h we knorv as "Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any
o doubt, then, the chief emphasis in Thc Battle ol azd Mi.e lies on the archaisms and exaggerations of Ilomeric style of poetry. Yer after rve 0nish reading the poem, e see drat its satire extends also to the-subjectter of the Homeric ePics. The Olympian gods, who are rafier iirel.erently treated in Homer, are here far more boldly just as daringly as th€y were on Afienian comic stage. Athena declares that she will not to help the embattled mice, becar$e drey hale spoiled c garlands atrd lamps in her temple by nibbling the ths and drinking up dre oilj and, 1vo$e 5ti11, they gnalred holes in her grext ceremonial Panathenaic . At the end, 1{hen the olher gods implore Zeus to the war, he rdke( hi{ tenible '1,,ifr liShrning urrers the boll down ro earth with Pcal oI thunder, and hurls lcarsome crash. The mice pay no attention to it. Then as r!'e watch the dauntless frogs and the magnanimice baltling one another i!'ilh iron will_Polver and uenchable courag€, and as we see Lhem linally driven Lo rout only by a s$,arm of armored monst€rs r{ith eyes lheir breasls, rve inevitably think of human rvars; and
their..prorvess are exaldng the absurd, the aniinal nature. Thetelore The Battle ol Frogs and human lc of irs, alrhouo,h i .rppcars ro be r p. rody ot a.pc, ial poeric , ttlc, is al.o a parody ol an imPo, lsnr suL'ie.r''3
rily
Let us turn norv to Byrcn's l/ision of Judgment. lt is a hhtake to think tha! satire, or its masked servant Parody, h purely negative and necessarily ephemeral. Sarires often
.83.
'l
PARODT ti."-., 191_ff1.-tlt9"l.ll_"j.- victims; and here is a parody l,rhich has far outsoared ils leaden rvinged original. King George III became insane at the age of fifty. Hc recovered, and lapsed again, and at last crossed dre fronrier Permanently inLo the realm of darkness. When he died at the age of eighty-two, he had been a burden to himself and others for many years. Never a good king, he had beer neither popular nor successful, and it rvould have been besr to aliow him to be forgorten. But the Poet Laureate, Roberl Soufiey, had a strong sense of duty, a passionatc devotion to the ideal of monarchy, and a high-ranging poetic ambition. Since his appointment to th€ Laureate ship, he felt that far too few opportunities for rvricing ambitious ceremonial poetry had presented rhemselves. Among the living members of the royal house of Hanover, not many werc rroth glorifying. This did noc discourage Southey. To celebrate the d€ath o[ George III, he com, posed a poetic apocalypse in rvhich he personally raised George lrom the grave, escorted him up to the gares of heaven, saw him examined, wirh witnesses for and against, on his fitness to enter the hosrs oI the blessed, beheld dre king's triumphant entry into paradise, and returned home again to that earthly paradise, Cumberland. This is not an exaggention. Southey's I/irio?, ol Judgment is actually a vision of the resurection, trial, and bealification oI King George III, w tten in a tone which rhe author hinself explicitly compares to that of Dante, and in English hexa met€rs which $'ere clearly intended to rival the verse of Vergil. The subject is one at which r€ are all relucranr to scoll, for r,re should think seriously of death and the judgmenr; but poor old Georgr was too $'eak ro suPporr its weigtrt, and ir became, even in Southey's reverent hands, absurd. As the poet's own son put it, "It musL be allo ed fiat to speculate upon the condirion of the deparred, especially
.84.
PARODI under the influence oI strong political feelings, is a if not a presumptuous, undertaking.'t, Even apart George's orvn narrow chalacter and eccentric mant!, his blindness ard his insanity made him quire unfit bc the central figure of a mighty cosmic event involving Almighty, the archangels and the angels, th€ souls o{ blessed, George Washington, Charles I, Queen ElizaRichard Lionheart, Alfaed the Great, Chaucer, Spen" Shakespeare, Milton, Marlborough, Handel, Hogarth, Hastings, Cowper, Chatterton, Wilkes, Junius, and r----all oI rehom, in the f/irion, are concerned with his ission to, or exclusion from, heaven. Southey could y ignore the unhappy disabilities under which the monarch had long labored: so he cured him of by a pair of miracles. Through the first miracle, King having been resurected, regained his reasoning . (Then, in a passage of exquisite absurdity, he t a complete report of aU that had happened \qhile he out of touch. The report was rendered to him by Perceval, once Pdme Nlinister of England, rvho ld been murdered in rgr2 and was restored to life bv they for this purpose.) Through the second miracle, orge regained his youthful appeannce, and the mortal off mortality: not that any of the house of Hanovet particularly handsome. The welcome given to King O!8e at heaven's po):tals, the unsuccessful attempt of the fiend, supported by those minor d€vils, Wilkes and us, to Liep him our, rnd hi\ lriDmphanr enlly inlo realm of eternal bliss are too ridiculous to describe detail. Were it not for a certain fluency in the verse and lCrtain unmistakable conviction in the tone, rhey would lrresistibly comical self-parody. Southey's f/irion of ludgI reminds us, both of the huge buoque rombs of noble entities which clog the churches of western and central Urope, and of the elaborate floral tdbures and family
.85.
PARODT albums rvhich l\'cre dear to the Victorian age. Having been, in his youth, a rcvolutionary, eulogizing Wat Tyler andJoan ofArc and solving life s problens by pantisoclacy, sourhcy became one ol rhe fi)\r Vi' lorian\. II Southey had been content to r.ite an apocalypse in ve$e, bis fhion might soon har.e been inlerred in thc decent oblivion thaL covers most laureate poems. But bc added a homily rebuking the "Saranic School" of contemporary rvriters, r'hose books, he said, were lascivious 1jrith the spirit oI Belial, cruel wirh fie spirit of Moloch, and proud $'ith the spirir of Saian hims€lf. Obviously this was an attack on Byron, vho was thereby identified rvith the arch-viliain of the l/;lion of Judgment.In a Ietler to a newspaper Southey added l\'hal srung Byron even more, a pointed allusion to his dimculty in concrolling his emotions. (He adv;ed Byron, if he uished to reply, to do so in verse: "for one rt'ho has so litile command of himselt, it uill be a great advantage that his temper should be obliged to Adsp tirra.") At firsr, rlhen he read this, Byron thought of going back to Engiand and challenging Southey to a duel. He contenled himself with killing his poem. Bfto']'s Visian aJ Judgment is not a close parody ol Southey's. It keeps the mair lines of the original, but no more. Its tone is of course quite diEerent. Its meter is di{Ierent: the jaunay eight line stanzas of iambic penta' meter called ottttlta rina. Its pocric ideal is different: Southey ook as his models Vergil, Dante, and Nfilton, while Byron says his model is the Spanish satirist Quevedo.,0 Instead of Iollorving Southey's poem section by section, through the revivilicatjon of George III past his judgmenl to his beatification, Byron tells the story differently, from his orvn coolly cynical poinr of vie$'. He feels thar thc most important thing in it is th€ question which Southey scamped: r,herher George III was a good monarch or a bad one. Southey r{as such a patriot ard such a conserva,
.86,
PARODf lnd such a Laureate thar, for him, any British monarch t[ be a good monarch. Even lo c ticize would be emy against that divinity thar doth hedge a king. fore his trial of George III ivas not a fair trial He Satan produce two of George's enemies: Wilkes and us, They rvere so over helmed by the pure light from orAeh fair white soul that they could ofer no evidence , the devil threw them back into hell and joined there. But Byron makes it a real tdal, with the archMichael
as
defender, Satan
as
prosecutor, and a great
of $'itnesses. Blron's climax is the same conception but better handled. Wilkes is called to the over l,hich the blessed Lamozel $'as later bar h 0hat be seen leaning), and, rvith his typical contemptuous Southey's
,
savs
And \"rF l'i. t when
Juni
s, a
I hate to,Biren ,ortu" inLo l,'"\^n
For mF, habP.,q
man of principle, is summoned, he rvill
forgive. In one of those deadly serious, profoundly utterances which often come in the middle of the satire, he accus€r George III of injuring Britain. I IovFd my .oun'r). and I hJr"d Iim. then-but before the verdicl can be render€d, the is blorvn rrp and rvhirled auay in dre fireworks of ter. As a ch:rracter-wilness for Georg€, Southey him" ir miraculously vrafled up to the judgmenr s€al, and lns, inevitibln to rend his fkion of ludgment This is much. It terminates the proceedings. Not even the court of heaven can remain in session and listen to lhey\ poetry, unmoved.
Those srand hcroics acted as a spell; Thc Angels stopped their errs and plied their pinions;
'
The Derils ran ho$'ling, deafened, down to Hell; The ghosts fled, gibbering,Ior their own dominions
.
PARODT Michael took retugc in hh trumP-but, lol His teeth were set on edge, he could nol bloul Saint Peter, who has lrilherto be€n known [or an impetuous saint, upraiscd his kcys, And at the fifth line knocked the Poct down-
into his olvn favorite lake, Derwentl'ater. But how aboot George III? Is he to be damned, or saved? Is he a sinner, or a potenLial saint? Neither, says Byron. He is not a super_ nal being (as Southey made him) or a great evildoer: hc is a nincompoop, misplaced both on the thrcne of Grear Britain and in Southey's laureate vision. Whar does he matter? Heaven i. lull ot bl?mele$ idior'.
All I
saw farther, iD the last confusion,
King George slipped into Heaven {or onei And when the tumult dwindled to a calm, I l€ft him practising the hundredth psalm
Was, that
This satire might apFear to be a Parody of Southcy's poem which concentrales entirely on subject-matter. It tclls the same story, merely altering its tone and its outcome: the setting, the problem, and most oI the characters are the same in the original and the Parody. Yet in fact
Byron is also saririzing Southey's poetic form. Southey chose hexameters lor his Zirion. But they never feel right in English unless perhaps for lis-ht gay slbjecls such as Clough's Bothie of Tober'na'ltuolich or soft romantic subjects such as Longfellow's tualrgeline. Usually they sound forced and unnatuml; Byron called them "spavined dactyls." Byron himself chose a flexible eighl-line stanza which could carry bolh light humor and serious thought equally well; and lhus he criticized the medium of his rival's poem. Futhermore, he produced a rvork which had a far better structural patrern, more ener8y and variety, and more psychological finesse. Although Southey com' pared his own work with that of Dante, Byron actually
.88.
PARODT closer to the bold clear-eyed rctlism oI Dante, Ilhile Lhcy reads more like the slorv processions of Petrarch's
Satan is cerninly lvorthy of Dante, or llton, or of his orvn so[l at its blackest.
nfhr. Byron's
Irierc€ and unlatliomablc thoughrs .Dgraved Eternal vrath on his immortal face, And arfterr he gazed a gloom peNaded space. qlly, Byron rit€s beltcr poetry. In spile of his jocular call amareurish manner, in spitc of his pirying conpL for his cenral subicct, the "old, blind, mad, help' weak, poor rror.m," and even although he rhinks the I itsell as imagincd by Southey is a ridiculous fartasy, iloes it justice, he makes il dramatic, and he comPels teaders to take sides and !o fcel the coDflict
if *e consider these ni'o {amous parodrc poems, d Battle al [rogs an(l lti.e and Byron's lhion of ]udg l, and ask holv they do their $'ork, Il'e shall 6nd that llrst sighr one appcars to be a parody o[ form, and the lrcr a parody ot matrcr; but lhal iD facL the BattLe also llTizes subjcct mattel and the l/irion criticizes and ridi Itri form. Ir is thetetorc,qllXgs dini!ll!._l*g Jg']tc-!imo tx's'iLle ,^ di.rin",ri l, b(. 'een {ormal .at,'rl materirl triil-rc.. A p.r'o l1 r.l'i' h rpprrrs to ,nn,enrrate entirelv g the oulr,ard semblance of soDe pretenlious 8o then,
o[ art may at the samc time be grarving at its in ards; n(l r parody which appears to ncglccL the floblem of form
d go straifht to tLe heart of the subject Inay, either y or by inplication, carry a saliric criticism of lhe npc ind outlrardness of its victim.
tiltl.iric parody is not confrncd Lo literature. In the plastic Itlr rhere Jrc rh.u.rnJ. ot l,rrodie', 'ome ':tirizinv a llrrriitl \rylF or dn i rJ ir i.l,r rl :rr ti.t. .nme a prr ri.ulil rlre'ne.
Wh.n rlre I
Irom Btron! I,rio, ot Jrdgac,t. ti.nsrarinA hl Henrr Fmeli. thorogmph by ciraud.n, l,ari\
a^'
oon qrolp \^a' rcdir o\. ed .89
in r;otj.
ir
PARODY fascinated most contempomry arrists. Michelangelo adapted the pose of or1€ of its ligures lor an athlete on the Sisrinc ceiling and for the statue of a dying captive; Tirian borrowed it for a painting of tlre mart]'red Sainr Sebastian."' But some artists also felt r{har is indubitably rrue: that, in spite of the amazing technical and psychological skill of th€ sculptors, there is something har€ful about the group. It is repulsive that the death agonies of a farher and his children should be represenred wirh such morbid realism. The Laocoon is an atrocity. Titian himself fetl this, and indicated il clearly by executing a bitter parody oI thc group. Inskad oI being a man in rhe prime oI life with his trvo young sons, rhe victims in his picture were a gianr ape and trvo cubs. The groresque poses and agonizing grimaces of the original were only slightly exaggerated. Il was legitimate sarir€.3, In music there are many ingenious and delightful paro, dies. lVilliam Walton's Fafdde-which is no.w famous whilc the Edith Sir$rell poems il was I'ritten ro accompany arc forgolten-parodies popular and senrimental songs of rhc earll nventierh century. Stravinsky's ballet ?he Fairy's Kis.\ is a parody of Tchaikovsky, rvith the sugar content of that eminent senlimentalis! r:aised to an almost diabetic level. There are some pleasant things in a set of piano pieccs published in 1914 by Alfredo Casella, with two contribu tions from Maudce Ravel. This is calted ,.i Ia maniirt du . . . (doubtless after the famous collecLion of literary pastiches by Paul Reboux and Charles lfuller) and con tains satiic parodies of Brahms, Debussy, d'Indy, Chabrier, and even Ravel himself. The parody of d'Indy is charm, ingly called Prllude d lAprds-mid.i d,'un Ascekt whllc Ravel takes one oI the mosr banal of Gounodt melodies, "Genrle qor,rers, lie ye there," from ldnrt, and converts it into something dashingly Spanish in the manner of Chabrier. In 19z6 the bdlliant and opinionared composer
.90
:! i:
Schiinberg, "to warn ofi some younger contemt{ho had been attacking him," published ?ftze lor Mixed. Chorus (op. r8), with birter, contempbut amusing texts by himselfi What g€nuine fahe hairl What a periwigl ,
lxactly (the little
N{odernsky thinks
of
himself)
.xactly like Papa Bachl music, of course deliberately grotesque, is parodically
ntal. Otc recently, a brief but amusing satirical c ticism lovelled at a famous orchestral piece. Everyone kno&'s lkovsky's overture r8rz, which depicts Napoleon's lon of Mother Russia, and describes the conflict by 0ting Russian themes and French themes until ahe melodies swell out in victory.It is a grandiose piece, too simple-minded for refined musical taste, rather Rulsian in its derermined repetition of simple motives. lhc end Tchaikovsky abandons the attempt to express ldaas in music,,, and resorts ao sheer noise. The overaoncludd vith a salvo of heavy guns. (Ic was originally !o be performed out of doors in a Moscow square, lh rcal cannon.l ln re.ent )ears this effecr ha\ been lly sarirized. In February rgbs the Rochester Philic Orchescra performed z8r: in the llastman at Rochester:, New York. Galloping cavalry and infantry, gay defiant trumpets and rolling obsti" drums, on they surged to the clima!-"La Marseil" triumphantly overborne by Slav church-bells and fnljestic Russian hymn "God the All.Terrible"; and | [s sensitive ears shrank from the uproar, the final Ittrlon of cannon was set off behind the stage. While lchoes still reverb€rated around the theatre, a show€r whltc duck-feathers as rele?1cd from the ceiling and
.91
PARODf floated slowly down through the throbbing air, covering $e audience l,ith a delicale satirical anticlimax z!
3. TqE HOAX AS SATIRE At this point satiric parody begins to pass out of the art$ into acdon. In action, its most famous and represenlativc product is the hoax. As far as I know, there is as yea no good analysis of.fit bmnch of satire. There are amusin8 descriptions of individual hoaxes, and occasionally a disiin. guished hoaxer such as Hugh Troy has his biography writ' ten; but most of the anthologies of hoaxes lail to defrne thc hoax with any accuracy. It is really quite mistaken to discuss a vile propaganda fabrication such as the "Protocols of the Elders of Zion," a greedy srvindle such as the finan. cial career oI Ivar Kreuger, and a harmless joke such irri a news'photograph of a newly captured pterodactyl pub. lished on April Fool's DaI, as though they llere all inspired by the same impulse and produced the same efiect.'i Hoa-\es are l'9._9I- 9.Iegg. 93,jo3S-.'l*9t*g-19_!9f9i'e Swindles ardlies or exaggemlions intended to deceive. Thc purpose, it ic.!bS.egllS".-q-*g!*{9glgs.-them. The hoaxer \'\'ants to_prove so.m€thing. The swindls rvants to get somcthing. The srvindler wants to deceiv€ everyone permanently (or at least until he has died in triumph). The hoaxer wishes at some time to_!_e_-g-49).!e-4,-9l !9. reye-al-_bis own je!!, The result of a successflrl srvindle is gain for thc swindler. The result of a successful hoax is hearty laughter ir is the laugl1p.1p-f__qaqire, in rvhich rhe victim
-although rarely joins.
To clarify the nature of the satiric hoax, let us look al three famous impefiona[ions. They all took place r/ithin the present century, and all involved the same type of deceit practiced on the same type of victim. One was carried oul in 1944, one in rgro, and one in 19o6.
In
W44 aL elderly British lieutenant called Clifton
.92.
PARODY who had been an actor in civitian life, as Picked a desk'bound job in lhe Army Pay Corps, and given mission. FIe \!as to impersonare General Bernard ery. Physically he looked very much lik€ his I opare fmme, keen birdlike face, brisk nervous manlitually, he was almost the exact r€verse of that ittle martinea. But he as shown motion-pictures of , he rvas seconded to Montgomery's personal that he mighr learn the timbres of his voice and his mannerisms, he rvas given an exact replica oI mery's highly individual uniform, and finally he with Montgomery himself face to face. After this , he was briefed, and converted into Montgomery. flown to Gibraltar, where he was received by the r with a guard of honor, and observed by a number agents operating under Spanish cover. Next, he ed to Allied HQ in North Africa, where he was pubtic for an entire we€k. Then he returned to in ufter secrecy, This impenonation was so succ€sst it deceived the German intelligence organization Admiral Canads. It rvas one part of the stupendous worked out byAllied intelligence office$ inorder hom Lhe Cermans the time and pld,e ot the landings-and in paticular to make them believe i massive blorv was to be d€livered across the Mediterfrom Norrh Africa into soulhern France. This, like of the great D-Day deceprion, 1{as bdlliantlt . Was'ir a hoax?"o wars earlier, in 1qo6, a middle-aged German workcalled voigt, $'ho had spent fifteen years of his Iife in for minor offenses (except that th€ Germans do loneider any ofiense unimportant), Iound that il was ible for him to get regular employment. He \vas a inisr, but rvhenever he got a job, the police told lmtory -atrager he $,as an ex convict and moved him
.93.
PAROD! on. He determined to leave Prussia for good and go south, but he could nor travel wirholrt a passport, and rhe policc would not let him have one. Unable to loosen the chains o[ authority by persuasion, he determined ro break them by superior force. In hir memoi$ he says rhar he recalled how the Grear Elecror imprisoned the nrayor oI Kiinigsberg and Philip Kohlhaas defied rhe autho des of Saxony. So he procured the uniform of a captain in the prussian army, took command of a squad of soldiers he mer in a Berlin
street, transpor&d them by train to the quiet suburb ol Kijpenick, posted them with frxed bayonets outside rhe town hall, sent the chief of police home to take a bath, anrl alresled the mayor and rhe treasurer, saying..The administtation of the town is now in my hands. For atl rhat happens I am responsiblel" Only then did he realize that the irtricacies of the cerman adminisrmtive machine had rhwarted him once again. Passports lvere not issued by local police stations, but by the regional Landrarsamt, i'hich had no office in Kiipenick. Taking four thousand marks from thc treasurer's omce (and giving a receipr for it), he went back to Berlin in mingled triumph and despair. A ferv days later he ('as caughr, and sentenced to four yearJ imprisonmenr in a fortress. Rather unexpecredly, he .ras later pardoned by Kaiser Wilhelm II (perbaps because the Kaiser was. like him, a fraud), and, with a hundred thousand marks which were collected lor him by German sympathizers, disappeared from history. Most cermans dought that thc Captair oI Kiipenick {'as a criminat. Outside cerma y, people laughed- Was his masquerade a hoax??r The third of these advenrures asceniled to a higher levet. Whereas Clifton James deceived one section of the cerman inrelligence. rnd poor Voigr rhe municiprl rdministrrLio ol a Berl;n ru bu rb. Lhis qr oup hoodu inl.ed rhe Royrt Navy. About I g I o, the famous English joker Horace de Ver€ Cotc collected a small group of friends, had rhem made up wilt)
.94.
lnl robes. dark faces, and beards, and converted them Empetor of lbyssinia tith his imperial retinue' lcd by a forged lelegram ftom the B tish l.oreig'rl , lh€ group traveted down to Weymouth, er.e taken H.M.S. "Dreadnouqht," the flagship of the British cl Fleet, reviewed the Admiral's guard of honor, lcd the ship, talking to one another in Abyssinian, turned in safety and secrecy lo London There $'ere a\,\'k ard moments-for irstance, in the Britisb cold the moustache oI one member of the imPerial began co peel otf, and another of the participants, fa6 difrcult lo disguise bccause he stood six feet five, hi. o(rn .ou\in on rhc.lurrrerdc'l Threemem' -of the gro"p tuL.. b"cnme $'ell'kno$'n in Bloomsbury: tist Duncan Granr, Adrian Stephen, and his sister ia. Stephen wrote a little book on the adventure, .o4taine some delightful delails." Since he had to [8 the interpreter, he had lo pretend to turn his hosts' h into long paragraphs in a foreign language. He Swahili, which hc had attemPted to learn during in journey in a grammar produced by rhe Society Propagation of the Gospel; but his Sl''hili soon Out, Rather than remain sPe€chless, he went on: li bussor ahbat tahl :resque miss Erraema, fleet
us€.
fu the opening of a sad and Passionate Passage in I'e Aeneid, bttt so distorted in rvord division and acion that only a very alert classicist, and certainly no
$ould ever d€tect il." Throughlhe remainder oI the visit StePhen spoke in a mixture s Greek and Vergil's Latin, blessing the fact !hat d had a good classical cducatior. Amusing as chis is, ccupieal naval omcer,
charming thing about the lillle advenlure 8ce, in the photograph of dre masqueraders, Peering bclow a turban, from a heavily bearded and mousps the most
.95,
PARODl tached brown face, the high slender nose and large sensitive
sion into male telritory. Fimlly, Horace Cole and Duncan Granr were sought out by groups of ofnce$ 'ho intended to thrash them. These vengeful rvnrriors r{ere at last con-
oI the future Virginia lVoolf. Norq a hoax is corrccrly dcfin€d by rhe Oxford Dictionary as "a humorous or mischievous dccepdon wirh \,\'hich the crcdulity of the victim is imposed upon.', Ir is clear therefore thar the element of pure amusemenr and pure mischief in a deceprion determines $,hether or not it is satire. Thus, the impersonation of ceneral Montgomery by LieuLenant James was in deadly earnesr, and was aimed at fulfilling a higl y important purFose. Similarly, $,hen Hannibal drove herds of cattle along a mounrainsi.le in the darkness, rvith burning torches ti€d to their horns, in order to make rhe Romans believe his enrire army was shifting ground and escaping from a trap, he was not hoaxing the enemy: he rvas pracdcing a serious military deception, setting up a moving decoy. The case of lhe Caprain of Kiipenick is more complex. Although mosr of the cermans took it seriously, hardly anyone else did. Therefore, within Germafly it was a c minal fraudj but-because ir displayed in full eflorescence certain German chamcterisrics which memben of orher nations find unadmirable and lu.licrous the resr o{ the world it.$rae a hoax: ir was rhe equiv-for alent of a sarire on cerman militarism, cerman discipiine, Cerman a,.ura.). dlr $ose printut Cermdn virLues. And ('hat of the Emperor of Abyssinia? Does thar im, pcr(ona,ion conrain sarire? One mighr pe,hrps di,mLs ir as a prank, like pufting a corv into the chapel tor?er. Bur Addan Stephen's book shows that it cur deep. The Aclmiral of the Channel Fleer and his officers were laughed at. When they rrent ashore, litrle boys Iouorved them, shouLing "Bunga bungal" in imitation oI the ,.Abyssinians." eues_ tions were asked irl Partiamenr. The Navy grerr very bitrer. In *re wardroom, Virginia Srcphen \,\'as called ,.a common woman of the lown"-no doub! because she had dis, guised herself as a man and made an rmchaDeroned exctr-_
At least rrvo oI the world's most famous sadric rrite$ were responsible for elabomte hoaxes, which were essenrial'\ parodi. 'arircr. Tn rhe vear 15.12 Ilre same vear which brought forlh Pd,?fdgl el-R-abe.lis published nvo forecasts of the Iuture. Ore was an A.lnanap f.or rt)2, CaI' cLtl1tcd on th? M"tidion ol thc NoLIp Cit) ol I )oar and on the Climate of the Kingd.om of France. On its title-page he described himsell as a doctor of medicine, which he as not yel, and a prolessor of astrology, which he ryould never be. This spoof delighted Rabelais and he kept it going for ly twenty years; but almost every copy has now disappeared. The orher was a Pdntagrueline Prognostifcation Maistre Alcofribas Nasier. (The pseudonyn is an anagram on his o$'n name, but, like the ('ord "almanac," it looks and sounds Arabian.) The book is an amusing parody of the vague predictions of the usual popular almanac: "This year the blind will see very little, and the
.96.
.97.
eyes
tented with adminisrering a ferv symbolic taps with a cane, but it was clear they fek their honor had been r,ounded and needed some repair. The hoax, therefore, was felt to be meaningfulr it rvas critical; it \'\'as satiric. It exposed the bland readiness of the British government and $e Royal Navy to entertain any distinguished foreigner, horvever oddlooking, without enquiring closely into his bona fides, and to do him the honors so thoroughly that he $'ent away awed and flattered. "Ihar kind oI diplomatic courtesy helped to build up a gigantic empire. The "Dreadnought" hoax was a mocking exposure of its flimsiness and insincerity. Thus, the light-hearted little impersonation camied out by hau a dozen youngsters in lheir t$,enlies rvas a satire on the enrire British impe al system.
PARODT deaf will hear poorly. , . , Old age $'i11 be incurable this year, becalrse oI the years past . . According to the calculations of Albumazar, this $'iU- be a Plentiful year for those drat have €nough. . . . In ('inter rvise men $ill not sell their fur coats ro buy firewood." Nearly tl{o centuies later a crueler satirist produced a dea.Uier hoax. A self-educated English cobbler, using the name of lohn Parrridqq, liad n rdc a good liring tor many years r,y i'ilrling*#J pub';.hins a vea'h almanac of forecasts for the coming tlvelvemonth, called MctLinus Libera' t?6, "Merlin set lrce." This in i6eu would scarcely have been objectionabte; bul the darge|t{irh a1l this kind of forecasting is tha! the unscrupulous can use it to prey uPon the unwary by slipping in propaganda, and Partridge so used it. IIe was an o[t-and-out Whig, an enemy of the Established Church, and an ardenl foc of the Papists: he saw danger to British liberties everyrvhere, and frequently influenced the p[blic mind by the gmvity of his proPheciesHe caught the sharp cold eye of Tonathan Srvift, rvho re' solved to destroy him. Partridge had rePeatedly challenged rival asrrotogers to compete with him in foretelling &e fi1rure. Under a frctitious name, Swifr accepted the chal' lenge. At the end of r7o7, as usual, Partridge Published his Merlin s Liberatus f$ r7o8. A litlle later Sf ift Prtblished a collection of Frodictions lor the year r708, bt Isaac Bicherstafr. Most of the Bickerstafi forecasts were harm' less, but the one which really told was the Prognostication that John Partridge, almanac-maker, would die of a raging fever about rr p.m. on March 29, t7o8. Then, on March 3o, Srvift brougbt out a little book port€ntously entitled The Accomplishmen[ ol the First of Mt. Bich.erstafr's PreAictions. Being an Accolmt aJ the Death of lvt. Partidge, the Almanach-maher.lt described the lasl illness and death of Parridge, €xactly as foretold-excePt for the minor fact thar Isaac Bickerstaf's catculations hnd been wrong by
.94.
i
i
r
nearly lour hours. shorrly afrenra'd. having killed ParLridge, S$'ift nailed down his coffin by publishing a funerai ELegy on Mr. Partt;dee. "fhe rvrerched man geneally believed to be dead that the publisherr' guild, the Company of Statione$, took him ofi its roll of living members; and a copy of Bickentail's Pred,;ctions \N}.ic!.. reach€d Portugal was solemnly burnt by the Holy Inquisition, on Lhe ground that a forecas! so terrifyingly accurate could only have been made by direcr inspiration from the devil. Meanrvhile, Partridge himself was protesting thaL he was not dead. He even advertised in the ne\espapers rhat he was alive and uell, and issued an almanac for r?oq repeating d1e fact and attacking "Bickerstafi" as an impudent lying fellow. But this simply evoked from Swift a Vindication of Isduc Bicherstat, poinring out that the supposed Partridge's denials of rve ,established facts rvere absurd. Seldom has there been a more keenly conceived and emciently execukd hoax. Partridge actually died. At least, he issued no annual almanac for r?ro, r?r r, ri12, or r?rj; and tholgh he plucked up coumge and produced one for r?r4, he was, like his orvn Merlin, "overtalked and ov€r, worn" and expired in real earnest the following year.lo
Purely litemry hoaxes are radrer difficulc to ex€cute, bur ifsuccessful can give rare detight. Prosper MCrimde in r 8e7 r satirized the mmantic cult of unkno n and exotic coun-
,
tries by creating a non-existent "Illyrian" po€t called Hyacinthe Maglanovitch. He lranslared his poems into French (calling the colle(ion La Guzla), gave him an imaginary biography, and published a portmit oI himwhich rvas in fact a porrrait of MCrimCe himself vearing Balkan costume and a huge false moustache. Ior a time, he had Maglanovitch accepred by hisrorians oI European literature. Germans rvrote serious studies of his folkish poetry. The young savant Rante cited him in a hislory
.99,
PARODY
of the Serbian rerolution. Several crirics translated rhem into English, and Pushkin, cnthusias ticatly grcering a Slavic brothcr, turned a dozen of rh€m. into Russian. They inspired the Polish poel Nfickie(,icz to lecrure on Serbian poetry at the CollCge de France, and G€rard de Nerval used them for the libretto of a rornanric opera called The Montenegrin:. Once again a sarire had found acceptance
There was a pov'erful expansion of litcGry producrion and appreciation in rhe Lrnired States berrieen rqoo and rg:o. In rqr6, the existing Americo European schoots called Imagism and Vorricirm and Chorirm l{,ere joinecl h\ a nF,r one.:rllpd \n.,..i'm. L \^,, ,ef,p.enrcd hy,nme hrrv rvri.q in -o'" SiXffic,,,.e. bv rm,n,,et \tn,.in and Anne Knish. Their volume, S/2r.rra: I Dooh of poetic Expetiments, had tymparheric rirtc and "inrriguing', con^ tents, For instanceDcsp,ir con,es when al1 comcdy
,\nd there In
an_1
;s lelt no rragcdv name,
Ivhen rhe round and a,ound.(l brerlhine Ol love upon the breast Is not so glad a shcathing As ,n ol(l irro$'n ycst. Asparagus ;s f€arliery and
trlt, And rhe hose lies rotting by the garden all. This bool( rvas l,elcomed by some American critics and disparaged by others, raken seriously by atmosr all. It l{as a hoax. The Specrrists rvere invenred by a reat poet, Wifter Bynner. Their poems were composed in t€n days, rrirh the help of tcn quarts of l'hisky, by Bynner and hb lriend Arlhur Davison licke. The rr\.o hoaxers sent the collection to a reputable publisher, rvho accepred it as a bona fide mannscript. The Neu Refublic, ah,ays looking for
'toa.
better futrrr€, helpcd th€ spoof by asking WiLter Bynner himself to revierv SpectftL in its columns_$,hich he did wjrlr glr$o. r'Ir rrle, a ,haltenginS place. he wrore. among.L'r,enr t era,) impres,ioni)ri. phcnomena.,.) Re_ porrer. rried ro inrerriew Mi\ Knj,h and Mr. Morgrn: magazines-of,poetry asked eagerly for more of their poJms; a group ot Wir on,in undersrrduar.r parodied rhcii r^ork Dy rn\enrrnq rhe I l,rx-Vioter S,lroot, headed b\ Manujl Organ and \anne Pish rrhe.e subrt€ srudenr 1oi.,t7, nna an ofllrer in rhc Amaj,.rn army, rdlline ro Firke. a,rually claimed rh.r lre himse \,ds Anne KniJ and had wrilren the poems published urder her name. Inrellectuals rvere much roo ready in those days to give serious attenrion ro anyone who claimed to havc a new theory oI poerry, and to accepr flimsy litrle strings of rvords as genuineiy poiver{ul or pcr,eprivr lrri,rl pocm.. The Sptut,,i t,oar ,.), I.gir;male sitirc a
Satirists are al.ways in danger. Ivitter Bynner revealed rhe mrqLrc,ade in Aprit r9r8. in re,pon.e ro a dire, r , hat lengc del;!Fred in pubtic. Betore rhF trushrer hdJ died arqay, he himself was hoaxed. He was s€nt a sheaf of un_
tulo)cd hur .rrrneelr sinrere poem, by a t,rmer. Fdrt RoppFl. of Candu', N.y. HF admired rhem. Hc \ho\\ed them to his friends, one of $,hom ser a Roppel lyric to music and had it sung by a choir of three thousand voices. (I._was a parrioric poem, and this rvas r9r8.) Bolh Roppel and his poems r{,ere the crearion oI two young sceptics, Malcolm Coi.dey and S. Foster Damon, r,ho \,\,anred ro .ee if Ihe l,oa\er, ouJ I t bF lro.\, d. Earl Roppel and rhe 'mrelt Spectrists have been follo$,ed bv other.: lern CrJ\Fl rhe , hild poeres. ot tosa, aurlror oI Oh Millpt'' ilt"' Mu(l.drine. Ioi,a. rnqot: rnd frn V,'tF). rhe jrn:reinary n e, h1lri. doomed bv Cra\e,. di.eJsc, rlho vas gi\en rhir.v f'aqec bv rtre te:ding Arrsrralian tiierarl magazine. ,{t this point rrurh and satire, reality anal hoa!
.1o1.
PA&ODI
P ARO DY
begin to interpenetrate. The poems of "Ern Nlalley," when prosecuted for obscenity, r'ere detended by T. S Eliot and Herb€rt Read. The name of lhe leading Australian litemry magazine is said, to be Angry Penguinr. Can this be true?
a satire on
respect
tory, arid piety, devoted self-admimtion, and lack oI humor. these qualities are vulnerable to the finest of all lrench 'arts. Great are the French in Amour; greater still in Cui sine; greatest of all in Wit.
All
Can there ever have been a real Person called Ezra Pound, ('ho named his son Omar Shakespear Pound?3' It would be wrong lo leave this part of the subject wiah-
out praise lor one of the deftest and funniest satires in modern liter:atute. This is a short book by the eminent llrench novelisr Jules Romains, called The Pak (I-es Copains): an accolrnt of three major and several minor hoaxes. (Romains himself, as a student at the fcole Nor' male Supdrieure, is said to have originated several superb hoares. The special tord at the Normale for a hoax is cafirlaf; and not long ago Romains, nolv seventy yean old and a member of the Academy, procured fie admittance ol co.nular to the august Dictionary of the French Lan' guage.) His novel tells ho$, a gaoup ot practical jokers from Paris invaded tlvo of the dullest and quiet€st towns in the provincesr horv, ill one, disguised as government ofrcials, they turned out the entire garrison and made ic rePel an imaginary guerrilla attack at half'past two in th€ moming, to the great inconvenience of the soldiery and the terror of the citizenry; ho one of their grouP entered the pulPit in rhe .hurch, posing as an eminent priest lately rerrrrncd hom , ri.i, to t\r Pofc. ro deli\er a sennon on rhe rexts Zo d one anothet ar'd Be ltuitf l and multifly, which had the most potently protreptic cffect on the con8regadon; and ho(., in the other tor{n, they erected an eques' trian srarue, classically nude, of the local Gallic hero Vercingetorix, uhich, after being unveiled and addressed in pxssionate rhetoricai aposuophes, silenced the omtor and put the audience to flis-ht *'irh a shorver of baked potatoes. As you read, these appear to be merely practical jokes; bur on refle.rion ir be' ^.1er cle.,r tIr:rr Romdin. is \''r;ling
,1o9.
certain ingrained trails of Lhe French provincial:
for the army, r€gional parriotism, ceremonial om-
,
'
'
4. TY!ES OI LTTERARY PARONY 1.'14,g14. ir..r,1.. Satirists have taken all th€ famous pafterns of lirerature I [r4*ir;,lrr rt and di.lorrcd lhem. lhe mo(t impondnr hrre n:ruralty evoked the most energetic and penetradng parodies. We must, horvever, be careful to diferentiate two p ncipal methods of satirizing scdous literary forms such as epic, drama, and romance. One may be cailed mock-heroic, the other burlesque. A Tgg:*ggic parodisr pretends to be serious. His vocabulary is grand or delicate. His style is lofty, {ull of fine rhetodcal deviccs and noble images. If he speaks in prose, his sentences are long and orotund; if in poetry, he uses a dignified meter. He is ambitious, and pretends to rival th€ mightiest achievements of serious literatureHomer, Vergil, Cicero, Livy, Danre, Shakespeare. He st kes Apollo's lyre. He calls on the Muses. The writ$ of burlesque is a vulgarian. He likes lorv words. (This is one of the surest tesrs Ior derermining a literary genre, Farticularly in Larin and in modern lireratures influenced by Latin standards. In the noble style, flat ordinary words are kept tc a minimum, diminutives are eschewed, and vulgar rvords prohibited, unless on rare occasions for special purposes, Thus, tbere are fivo l,r'ords for "tired" in Larin, which have the same rhyrhmical pattera and sound much alike: ld$Lr and fe$ur. Of rhese, one, te$ r, is "noble"; the other is ordinary, with overones of colloquialism la$Lr, $'hich rvas natumlly carried over into some of ahe Romance languages, l&r, ldrro. Tlrerefore
.103.
PARODf Vergil in the ldnei.J uses lerrrr many times, but larrrr only twice, both times in contexts of tender cmorion.gs The I'ord PueLl6, "gitl," is a dirJ.inutive, common in love poetry, and comedy, and satire. Vergil prefers 1lt/go, and uses p?dlld only tfice in his €pic, both times in parhetic passages.3. In Larin and in later Greek historl, oratory, and serious drama, as in epic, the choice of words is carefully and st ctly limited.) The habitual use _of_c,ormon or vu)gar -'j$l.3.ll..iCll"-.b!g.,ilLe-Ces ah'ays sramps loir comedy, epigram, and certain types oI satire; and it is typical of burlesque. The $riter of burlerque in prose or poetry also likes a simple colloquial style, avoids solemn rhetoric, tries to sound natuml. His sentences are short and easy; if he wdtes verse, his meter i jogrrot (octosyllables are a favorite) or clumsily comical. His poetry is often like prose, and his prose like conve$ation. Or else he may turn ali his
poetic art into laughable ingenuity, Ihyming "Peri Hupsous" to "dupes us" and "veni, vidi, vici" to "twice I"is he may coin a nerv language, hybridized from digniEed Latin and colloquial Italian, called "macaronic" afrer: rhe coarse mixed peasanr dish.'" He eschews artifice and ambi tion, and tells the plain unvarnished truth. The mockheroic parodist preLedds to soar. Burlesque toddles, or limps, or squets. The inspiration of dre burlesque wriLer is not Apollo, but Panj not the Muses, but Momus. The mockieroic parodist loves to use quotations lrom high poetry, as nearly as possible in the original \{'ordsj he gets his satiric efiect by applying them to less s€rious dremes than the original. The burlesquer, if he borrorvs from serious literature, deba$es his borrol,ing by transtating it into lighter rhythms and coarser phrases- In mock heroic, supernatural intervenrion, ostensibly sedous, is frequent: Belinda is rsarned and defended by sylphs, Pallas dclivers the debtor from jail, the goddess Dulness mounis the tbron€ ,
144,
PARODT of the unive$e.a? ln burlesque, suPernatural figures are made "human, ail too human," talk coarsely, behave ridicu' lously, act ineffectively or absurdly. Vergil depicts Fame as a formidable monster, sister of the earth-bom Giants; Butler makes her a tall long sided dame, That like a thin camelion boards Herself oll air, and eats her words.83 Reading mock-heroic poetry, e are often surPris€d by echoes of true nobility, glancing reflections of real beauty. Reading burlesque, rve are often shocked by harsh words afld vulgar pictures. Thus, in the mock'heroic games of Pope's Dunciad t$'o publishers comPete in urinating Al' though the norion is disgusting, rhe d€scriPtion is aclually graceful, Lhe bodity fluid is n€ver named, and the ellorts of ahe contestants are compared to the noble classical dvers Maeander and Eridanus.3o But coprologous Swift, depicting the Iish parliamenl as a house of bedlam, hails two oI its membe$ wiLh revolting frankness: De/r (omPJnion. hug and k;{ Toast old Glorious in Your Piss.ao
The two types of humor are dissimilar in method and in efieca. A mock-heroic Parody takes a theme which is usually triviat or rep€llenL, and treats it &'ith elabomtion, grandeLrr, and feigned solemdry. A burlesque treats its subjecc with ridicule, vulgarity, distortion, and contemPt. In moct-heroic parody, th€ aclual story told may be interesting and imporlant; it need not necessarily be mean; but ir must be smaller than the pomp and circumstance surrounding it. The best example is the earliest. The battl€ between the mice and the frogs was, for them, a serious thing: they sufiered; they bled; they died. But when the little creatures were given gmnd compound names resembling the ancestral appellations of ancient 105
pa&oDt
FANODI
their tiny bilings and scratchings rvere described wirh all the intensity of a Homeric battle, and
mockJrcroicj Sancho h burlesque. Pistol is mock-hercic; Falstaff, aparr from one scene, is burlesque. Although these two styles of satire are clearly differcnt, it is nor easy to find fully satisfactory names to distinguish them. Addison (in numbd 219 ot The Speclator) tuad.e the distinction fairly clear, but did not name th€ tlvo types. "Burlesque is therefore of two kinds: the fil3t represents mean pe$ons in the accoutrements of heroes, the oth€T delcribes grcat persons acting and speaking like the basest among the peopl€. Don Quixoae is an instance of the fiIst, and Lucian's gods of th€ second. It is a dispute among the critics whether burlesque poeffy runs best in heroic verse, like .hat of the Dispensary lcarth's poem on a squabble among docto$]; or in doggerel, like that of Hud.ibras. 1 think $'hen the low chamcter is to be raised, the hercic is [he proper measure; but when a hero is to be pulled down and degraded, it is done best in doggerel." Since "mockheroic" does contain the idea of grandeur and nobility, while "burlesque" (from the Italian Durld, "jest") makes us think of guffaws oflaughter, "mock-heroic" seems appro$late tor The BattLe of l;rogs tLntl Mice and, all its successors, "burlesque" for Firdibrdr and all its tribe-
heroes, when
when the Olympian gods ltatched their lvarfare wirh deep concern, then lhe !{hole thing beiame ludicrous, Similarly, th€re was nothing int nsically base about the subject oI Pope's little maslerpiece. Lord Petre cul a lock of hair from rhe nape of Arabella Fermor's neck She rms beautiful,
he was gallant, both rvere toung, rich, and lsellborn'
Treated as a piece of amorous play, the incident could have made a charming elegiac Poem-and indeed Pope had in mind a famous love-elegy by Catullus, on a lock of hair cut ofi as a gage ot fidelity.4'But because Lord Petret fonvard' ness had incenseil the lermors and the tlvo families had quarreled, Pope wished to "laugh them together again "a' He.hose therefore ro show thal tbe incident was not a serious outrage, by treating it With an e:oggerated gravity rvhich was in itself comical and made the ofiended dignity of the Fermors comical too. A rnock-heroic parody is like a laughing child or a grinning drvarf \/earing a full_scale suit of ma]estic armor. A burlesque epic is like a Pot'erfully muscled boor carrying a cudgel and riding a donk€y. He is strong enough' Perhaps, to accomplish bold deeds of derfing'do, but he rvill nol because he has no style, no inner harmony, no ideals Whatev€r he attempts r{ill be graceles and absurd ln bolh senses, he is a clown. Satirists do not always observe these crilical distinctiots Occasionally an author will Pass Irom mock_heroic to burlesque within the same ork, or the reverse. Cervantes sometimes does so in Don Quixote, arld T^sso\i constantly does it in The Rape ol the Buchet. B.ut on the whole, most mock epics and parodies of drama and of other serious literary types fall pretty clearlt into one class or the other: mock-heroic, $rhere the treatmenl is grandiose; and burlesque, rehere the treatment is low. Don Quixote himself is
.106.
Many successful saiires have been couched in the form of epic parody. The fi$t sarire of Lucilius shorved the gods in council, determining to save Rom€ from destruction by killing ofi one of its most obnoxious politicians,- and was appareitly a close parody of $e epic lnnalr of linnirr. Juvenal's fourth satire, on the terrifying trivialities of the tymnt Domitiant court, is a travesty of the laureate poet Statius's epic on Domilian's German rvars..3 There are a number of pleasant satires on human derring-do, in the form of parodic epics about animals, all more or less indebted to The Battle ol Frags and Mice: Battle of Flies ^
.107'
PARODI
I qrt'r
N.t'-
by the macaronic poet Folengo; Lope de Vega's deliShtful Battle of Cdts (1618), whose chief characters have sinuous feline names-Mizifuf, Marramaquiz, and the heroine, silky Zapaquilda; a. s17ort Battle of Donkers, by Gabriel Alvarez de Toledo y Pellicer (r66P'r?r4), who later re' p€nted of witing it; and PerhaPs $'e should include an eleganr Battte ol Cranes and Pygmies, iltrL?tin verse, based on a hint in the Jtiad, by Joseph Addison aa The Lecteln,hy Nicolas Boileau (Books 1-4, r 6?2; Books g'6, 1683), is an ironically mock-hercic account of a trivial dispute b€tween tlto ecclesiastical officials of the Sainte Chapelle in Paris: it begins with a fairly close imitation of the opening passages ot the first and seventh books oI veryil's Aeneid,'t Dryd€n, in .Absalom and Achitophel (168r), carried our rvith triumPhant success the bold idea of taking an episode from Hebrew history, tuming it lvith apparent se ousness into heroic Poetry, and thereby sati-
rizing certain prominent politicians. The theme
was
Shaftesbury's attempL to make Monmoulh (an illegitimate son of Charles II) the accePted heir to the throne. Shafles_ bury and Monmouth and their supporters are keenly char-
acteriz€d and slashingly sadrized; but only a very daring satid$t lvould have ventured "uPon the desir€ of King Charles the Second" to v'rite a poem in which the monarch His vigotous warmth did variously imPart To rvives and slavesi and, wide as his conmand, scattered his Maker's image through the land.ad Next year, in a sharper, coarser, funnier, bul smaller satire, Mac Flechnoe,Dryden attacked a Protestant poet This also is a parody of a heroic theme: the coronation and consecm' tion, by his predecessol, of a mighty king and prophet' Thomas Shad etl, r'\,ho is gravely compared $dth Ascanius the heir of Aeneas, Hannibal follol{ing Hamilcar Barca' Romrlus attaining the kingshiP oI ner'-founded Rome,
'
108
PARODT and Elisha receiving the mantle oI Elijah, as he becomes [the] last grear Prophe. of Tautology. It is curious, but perhaps attributable to Dryden's vanicy, that he should have forgotten rloL only Tassoni's Rape ol Boileaut Zert?rn but his orvn AbsaLom and, the Buchet ^nd. Achitophel (which is undoubtedly mock-heroic, and which he himself in the preface called a satire), and have described his Mac Flecknoe as "the first piece of ridicule $ritten in heroics." However, Alexander Pop€, ag€d seventeen, cor, rected him. ("'Tis true," said Dryden, "I had foBot
them."xt
Pj!:l
own R(lPe ol the ZocA is a graceful, o.,a
li, fofa
DuiiTfifa
gracetess, parody of Homer. When working on a translation, writers oft€n have a strong desire to asserr their
orvn independence by satirizing th€ir author; and such rvas
Pope's case.r! His ftiend Srvift,. after several disappoint" mentg in serious poeffy, would never attempt it again; bua in his prose Battle of the rooAr he I|Tote a parody o{ Homer-inspired, although he deni€d ir, by the much richer and witrier parody by Frnnqois de Callidres, Poatic H'stofy of the War Recently Dectared, betueen the Ancients and the Madens. and,derling wirh rhesame"ubjecr trin\Ierred to Ensland.'e Henr-v Fieldins det lared rhar hi, Tom !ul,l,, .t "comii^ "m LJ epifiaTpeir u, n energy on trying "folr, wa. a to prove it, in his disqnisitions scafter€d through the novel. It is not. It is essenriallya comic romance, rvith the essential emphasis on love and the final revelation of a concealed identity; but it does contain some passages rvhich parody the grand effecls of heroic poetry. The most famous modem distortion of a heroic poem is ktf"." Joyce's Ul"r',Fes, which is based on the OzJ)$e]."o Since mosr oI i[ is low in emocional tone, vulgar in expresion, and trivial in subject, it is mainly a burlesqu€. Srill, it contains passages of lofty parody, particularly the big chapter about
'109.
t" P4RODI the birth of th€ Pureloy baby, rvhere the processes of conception, maturation, ard parturition ar€ Paralleled by a sedes of parodies cove ng many tyPes of literature, from the mosL primitive to what rvas in Joyce's day fully contempomneous. The satiric purpose of Ull.tses (insofar as ir is a satire, for the book is many oth€r lhings as well) is to make mockery of the nolior fiat modern Ireland is a heroic co ntry nourished by noble epic traditions, and to show it as a comical prolince on the outer fringes of the world of true civilization. The poem which for long rva.s lhe most famous of all n ock epics, The Rape ol the Buchetby Llessandro Tassoni (16r*), is an amusing and confusing blend of nobility and po$rer on the one hand with humor and vulgarity on the other. It tells, in twelve cantos of light and ffuenl stanzaic verse, the story of a medieval war between t'o Italian cirier, Bologna and l\lodend-a h ,, $hirh. 'in, e ir \d\ Parr of the dvalry of Guelphs and Ghibellines, involved large Iorces and caused grear bloodshed. It rvas a grave conllict. It could easily havs been described in serious epic poetry; and in fact Tassoni built ltis poem on a recognizably epic plan: initial ctashes, failure of an attempt at peacemaking, council in heaven cnding with a dispute among the gods, marshalingof the opposed contingents, renewed athck, ek. Bur he $'ished to treat the theme satilically. FIe believed that all wars w€re Ether absurd; thaL the conventions of .pic p.;it ;;; ;iiit; iird-as others since his time have thought that among the Italians magnificent gestures ea'ily be.one ridi.ulou\. rWJ' Beniro Mu("olini a lrcl^i. or a comic figure?) Theretore he opened rhe poem by describing a Iaid on Bologna in hich the Modenese carried ofi, not an ancient ard venerable banner, not a treasure of immense worth, not a rvoman as fair as Helen, but a wellbucket from which the exhausted Bolognese fugitiles had been drinking. To match this trivial tlophy, he made most
,t
to.
rll PARODI of his poem antiheroic. The men of Modena are led by their I'otta (an undignified dialecral shorrering of ?odesra, or Mayor), and th€ Bolognese are addressed (in thcir own dialect) as "breaclbaskers full of brod."5r Juro absents h€rself from the heavenly council because she wallls to wash her hair; Satum makes a speech expressinq divine scom of mankind, ard starrs ir by breaking wind: Jupiter is attended by Mercury cauying his har and his eyeglasses;
and when w€ lcarn rhat the superintefldent of Jove\
kitchen is Menippus, we see that the main ancestrt of this gay poem goes straighL back to Greek Cynicism."" On the other hand, Tassoni does not make all his acrions anal artistic devices absurd, r'irhour exceprion. The \{ar, in its time, was a s€ ous aftair. Porveful figures were involved in it: the diabolical Ezzelino of Padua, the gallan. Manlred; and the Pope himseu hird Lo intenene and seftle ir. Therefore Tassoni's narrarive is somerimes grave and sometimes comic. Sometimes he shorvs us a siege engineer employing grim machines of destruction, and sometimes a cook hitting his opponent with a sausage-mixing pesrte.6a Sunsct is the chariot oI Night theeling bcyond the stmits that divide Alrica from Spain; and in the same canro dawn is Aurora, blushing to be caught nahed lrirh Tithonus, and jumping out of bed clutching her shift.5l The historical evenrs and personages look aurhentic enough, but th€y are fantastically conflrsed: men $rho lived genemrions apart are portmyed as .onremporrrier. Fjnarl). some of rlre mo,r imporanr cham.te$ are cruelly amusing portraits of Tassoni's o.$,n enemies. Ti? Rupe ol the BrcAet is therefore a very un, usual, perhaps unique, pocm: a belvilclering btend of the herni, and rlre burtF\rlLre and rlre \ariri.. I' tr,, an rb.urd opening and a smilingly domestic close. Most of its inci_ dents are serious in substance or in implication, bul ar some point tbey near-ly all become comicat; and in iL rhere are €nough parody of grand literary devices and cnough
.111.
l
PAROD'I: derisive distortion of importart facts and enough sln,rll, crudely renlistic, vulgarly comical incidents to arouse thr centml emorion of contemPtuoirs amusem€nt which is proPer to saLire. A lively but brief success rvas achieved in the seventecntlr century by Paul Scarron with a burlesque epic hicl) satirizes norhing much excePr the original CPic poem, and, drrough it, the somervhaL exaggerated reverence lelt l)y Scarron's contemporaries for Greco-Roman poetry ;ln(l mythologT. This is i/argil Truuestied 0618 1652). It ie simply a paraphrase of dre frrsl eight books of the Aeneitl, turned into jocutar octosyllabic couplets far lighrer ar(l thinner than the rich hexameten of the original, and i\'illr every single heroic and dmmadc eflect diminished, dis' torted, degraded- For instance, a leading motive of tN' .{dreid is Juno's bitter hared of rhe Trojans, a harlc(l sprung from mary roots, chiel among lrhich is the judgment of Paris, scornful insult to her bcauty.'"
Scarron rakes this and elaborates it irlto exact details, r\'hich,
although vulgar, are funny. After the beauty conlcst b(' rween the goddesses, he says, Paris revealed drat J not breasts were too long, her armpits too hairy, and her knecs, for a lady of quality, too dirry. Crudely amusing thorr8lr this is, the modern reader'$'ill tire of it even more quickly than Scarron's public did. Boileau denounced it as low bufoonery, in $'hich "Parnassus spoke the ianguage of tlu' slums," rvhile "disguised, Apollo changed into a clo n.'hd Another burlesque epic is a poem once notoriolrs i1l(l norv forgotlen, Voltaire's Maid ol Orledns: a faDtasy on t|r' adventures of Joan of Arc down to and including her crlr ture of Orleans. It is based very l;ghtly on hislory, mor{ heavily on the gayer episodes of Ariosto, and mos. cent lll on a surprisingly simple-minded series of jokes about scx To judge from lrench literature, ir has always been dilli ' 112
for a nubile girl to presewe her virginity in lirance. exceptionally dimcult for Joan of Arc, srrrrounded mcn and constantly throrrn into temptation and danger; Ehe did so-at leasL until the caplure of Orleans. This lhc principal theme of the poem. Volcaire plays an borate series of variations on it, inspircd bv his wide lng and his cynical imagination. For instance, Joan lly ddes a winged donkey (modeled on the hippoin Ariosto), but (like the amorous ass in Apuleius' orPiordr) it falls in love with her, and sp€aks to her use it was once the talking ass of the prophet Balaam). is flattered. She is even attractedj but, with the help 8t. Louis, she resists.
Tlre sryle ol The Mtid is rool, bri:k. srraightforuard, n close to prose both in vocabulaty and in syntax; hough less bdlliant and versatile, i. ofFn reminds us DFon's Don ,fua, in its chattier passages.6z The verse is Course not the noble Alexandrine couplet, but easy llables rhymed sometimes in couplets and sometimes 'quatrains a meter suitable for burlesque. Not many tead The Maid. ol Orlean.r nowadays, even in France.
, it
is disappointing. Its satirical purpose is tar ower than that of Voltaire's masrerpiece Candide. Aptly its sole aim is to poke fun at some of the great lc and religious adventures oI Irench history-an aim punued with more bitterness and more success by lole France in Pezgrin ftland; and its humor, though in quantity, is lorv in quality and sometimes (surngly, for all auLhor so sophisticated) becomes really
epic ler us turn to its relative, romance: iI we may Cohvenience give that name to the hybrid prose tales, timate otrspring of epic poeLry, amorous comedy, ard
Itom
'113.
PARADI rhetodc, which creep rarher shyly into vier{ during the early years of rhe RorDan Empire, and to rhe iong slories of chivalry, adventure, love, an_d enchanrment I'hich floudshed in rhe lale Middle Ages and the Renaissance. Amad.;s ol GauI is typical of the tafter, and. the Ethiopian Ad.uentures by Heliodorus of the former. The creek romances rvhich have survived are lorrg and inrricate, inefiably high-minded, loftily arrificiat in style, nildty improbable in incidenr. A good rvay to parody such a thing is to turn the original emotions upside dorvn and inside out. :fhus, one explanarion of that fragmenrary .$'ork of Senius, the S.rrri.ais of Petronius, is tLar it is a parody of the romdiciof iovil im;61-a;didvenrure. tt is a long narrative in prose mixed r{'ith poerry, rold in th€ firsr p€r, son, of the picaresque adventures of rhree inteltigent young scoundrels travelinq rhrouglr .crLain l \u,i^u, (irics ol the western Mediterranean. (Some readcrs have thought it might be a parody of the Odlrre), wirh tbe wrath of the sex deity Priapus pursuing rtre narrator frqq.2l as the tvrnr\ o[ Po.e;don lurcUed Odys,FUci b'rr rhi. rherre ap pean too seldom ro make rhat norion con\,incing, and the book has few other traits which can be reterred to epic.) In the romances, everything turns out lor the besr in the end: the hero preserves his courage and his devotion, if nor always his chasdty, and the heroine miraculously maintains her virginiry. Their adlentures, although painful, are all trials lvhich rhey surmount irh uiumph, steps toward lheir eventual happiness. In the end they are reunited, and are usually discovered to be, not foundlings or commone$ as they had believed, bur rich and nobly born. Tbe Satrrica has a plan exactly opposire ro rhis. Instead of being naive and fairhful lovers, Lbe chicf .|aracre$ are intelligent crooks and debauchees. Their very names h:rve disrepLllablF meJningc. an'l morrts are ,,n,|ed'..,b'F 'hei, Instead of being pur through trials rvhich tesr thcir fibcr .
114.
PARODY and prove their fidelity, they have co endure a series of ordeals which befool and beloul them, although rheyamuse the reader. Whcrers jn the senlimenlal romdn.e\ lhere is always tension berween the innocent lovers and rbe crDel irradonal outside I'orld oI pirates and savages and bandits, in the ,ldt)rica rve see a higher contrast ($,hich petronius himself perhaps felt deepty), rhe contrast bctween an intelligenr Epicurean obse er and a wortd packed to over_ i florving with srupidity, supersririon, and Lad taste. It is tpossible rhat Petronius wrote rhe book in order ro dis_ courage Nelo from becoming a beatnik."" In any case, it is a cynicaliy anti-idealisric \\'ork. Whcnever I read somerhing naive and optimistic like Walt Whitman's \foor and ligh'-hFaled l r.rkF ro rhe open rord, Healrhy, tuea, rhe worl.t before me, ' I think horv Petronius could have $'Iitten a spirited chapter about the Camemdo's adventures in a hobo jungle fuil oI syphiliric degenerates who had taken to the open road for totally ditrerent reasons. And yet, because he was a sarirical gen iuq. the. ha prer \\'oLrld be iron icalty am rr"ing.
The Middle Ages wer€ devored to romance; anil therefore the wits of lhe Renaissance made fun of romance. The whole oF Babel,_is grear _rvo-rl_j<-in-lorm a parodv of rhe a.l\enr,rres ol miBhrv gidn(, and heroic kings rrhi,,r oere told in the many cyctes of medieval imaginative 6ction; and its clima.x, the search for the oracle of ttr. &.U!9I1., is a parody of the quesr of King Arthur's t
PARQDI The most illustrious of all modern satires ol1 roman{ic is Cervanres Don Q',lixote (ParL r, r605; ParL 2. t6ri) fh" #--;iii1i";;;i.ir book and his squile san\1,,' are so intensely and convincingly alive, and thefu adven' tures so engaging, that most readers nowadays ale conteDl to overlook the mistakes and inconsistencies of its creator. Many of these emors are relatively unimportant. But ontr at least is so considerable that it damages the impact of thc satire. When I fi$t read Don Quixote I .was a schoolboy, and although I could see that the Don rvas eccentric, I could not be sure what his eccentricity rvas. Is he a con' temponry eccentric, rvho is cmckbnined because he wanlr to live in the pas.? or is he a knight r{ho lived several centuries in the past and rvas at that time eccentric and ill. eff€ctive? Is he a modem who makes a fool of himseu by putting on obsolete armor and upholding obsolete ideal$, or ar antique man who fought tbe fights of his own timtr very badly? Is he someone like villiers de L'Is1e-Adant, who merely rvanted to live in the Middl€ Ages, or a silly knight like Sir Pellinore in Malory who really did live i'r th€ Middle Ages? In fact, did Quixote live in the y€ar 160(, or the year rloo? Anyone rvho reads the book straight through rvill frn(l it a li.tle difficult to decide. Perhaps this is part of itscharrn. Cetainly it makes clear one of the most int€resting thingr about narntive satire: that, even if it is parodic, it is al)l to pass into reality and to move out into fantast agairr, sometimes escaping from the control of its author. Ceryantes began the work as a burlesque. ln its openjng pages, vulgar words and crude things and base people nrc frequent: rvhores, codfish, a pig gelder, a camvan of mul(\ driverx. Mosr oI its characters talk plainly and sor). coarsely.6o The narrative style, although sympathelil enough, makes no artempt to disguise the lact that quixol. is an absurd lunatic. He himself usually ralks in lofty .
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lodcal tonesi at the opening of his adventures he imises an elaborate exordium lor the future hisbrian will write his exploits Buc the narrative is couched ,the plain earthy comic realistic style of burlesque' 'At a place in La xlJn.ha $ ho' n.mFldonot(arerore'all rrhere'li\ed nol Ionq reo one ot Lho'e genllemen $ho keeP a iuce in the rack, a"" otd shield, a lean horse, and a fast grevhound. stew lvith more beef than mutton in it, cold hash
mosl eveninp., bone" and braxy on Saru'day lenril-ouP on lriday, a loing pigeon a' J rr€aI on sunday 'ost him rhrerquarters of his income.dl
lived "not long ago." Soon h€ is more exactly. While he is recovering from his frrst
or
Quesada,
venture, his friends the priest and the barber: throw out of the books in his library. A felv are sPared One of is Gatatza, published in r5B5 by Miguel de Cervantes f. {s he 'ir' ir a'ide, rhe priesr remarl. Thi\ Ccries has been a great lriend of mine for many years "0' fore Quixada, who was "about fifty" $'hen his adtur€s began "not long ago," is an exact contemporary Cervantes, who wa$ fifty_eight when ihe frIst Part of on Quixote was publish€d. In some I'ays he was a proatio;of Ceivanles himself. And as conceived in fiction he I a contemPorary monomaniac, rvhose sad buc funny vcntures belonged to tbe Present-day world in rvhich es was writing, aird $'ere described as though they occurred very recently and very near by. 'Ecveral sclrolars, notably Don Salvador de Nladariiga, pointed out ho$,, dudng th€ir errant car:eer, Sancho to resemble Quixote and Quixote in some respects Sanchified. It is even more touching !o obseNe how to resemble Quixote and his creaaor come by degrees changes his Cervantes other. One aspect oI this is that nccption and treatment of the fake knightl adventures. the ninth chapter he says that in Toledo he discovered
'117.
P.4RADT a manuscipl containing the history of Don Quixore, writ' ten in Arabic by someone called Cid Hamet Benengeli. A history oI a Spanish hidalgo, written in Arabic: thercfore before the expulsion of the Moodsh dogs in 1492, an.l probably long before. Wilh this chang€ in conception, thc style begins to change from plain eggsand'bacon prose into a while'plumed imitation of a lolty chivalric history. A fight besveen the absurd Quixote and a comic Basque who no speak so good Spanish is described in the purest mock heroic prose: Poised
r.isc.l
the keen swords of the two valianr
'n.l 'lofl. ,bd infDrirred.dmbrtants
seemed
to theatcn heaven
and
earth and the depths bencath.o3
By rhe end of the first part, Don Quixote himself has been pushed back from the present day into fie age of real ro' mance. The knight has ceased to be a contemporary. His death and burial took place several centudet earlier: Cewantes says that they rvere described in parchment manuscripts containing pocms l"rilten in "Gothic" char acrers, found in the ruins of an ancient hermirage and only partialty deciphemble. This means that Quixote was a re. mote half-myftical fieure like the Cid Campeador. No doubt the "Arabic historian" and rhe "ancient Spanish poems in Gothic lettering" are inlended to ridicule the fantastic {ictions of the romances rvhich $'ere con temporary Ir'ith Cervantes. Bur by this change of concePtion Cervantes has abandoned realism for fantasy, and so has made himself into Don Quixote. By turning from contemporary burlesque to mock heroic parody, he shilts the aim of his satire, He mocks the chenp modern tomances and those rvho adclt€ Lheir brains by reading them; but he also affectionarely mocks the ideal of knighthood even as it rvas in its futl florver-the idcal rvhich he himseu had
. 118,
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y tried to serve by contrasting its impossible aspira_ ns wiLh the bard low comic facts of real life. Q ixote has had many imitators in many languages. In ish the best'kno$'n is a smaller and wiilier lvork, less dcr and norc 'l'drply.dri'i,11. SamLrel B'rLleL" H,di ,r 1in rl,r.e pd,,., ,6tij. r664. r6;8; .Be'j.les-Dorr te, its chiet models *'ere Scaron's yerA;I Tratestied I{abelais.) The hero of this poem, riding ouL "a-coloncl" is, like the original Quixote, a contempomry crackAs quixote believed himself a medieval knighr-errant, lludibras is a Puritan reformer. Iills name comes ftom a Ight in Spenser's Faeie Queen€. He has never foughr bflttle, and his weaporrs are obsol€te.
lHisl trcncha t blade, Toledo trusty, Ior vant ot fighting was gro$n rusty, A.d aLe into itsell. for lack or som.hodv to hew and hack.64 0 has a squire, Ratpho, r'ho is jltsl as incomPetent as n(ho Panza: bom a tailor, he had gor religion in his cracked brain and 1tas proud of b:rving "the inl'ard rt." With him, Hudibras sets oll on a qu€st almost as l.conceived as that oI Don Quixote. His aim is to prov€ k l)rowess. But evetything he does and everyone he meets low, vulgar, ludicrous. Just norv and then, when the dcr might find it tedious to meet a large rabble of tities, Butler moves trom burlesque into parody, and dllcribes them in terms of "high heroic fusrian,""' but dtis m0od never lasts for long: he soon reverts from the haughty lfiotnphors and Cambyses vein of parody to the frank dislllurioned gaze and brisk shocking vocabulary of burlesque. lonetimes Cervantes doubled whether he spoke for th€ world, or for the Qttlxote trying to change and amend use]ess efforts. But Buller laughing at $r[ld Quixote's llw[ys loerv $ho rvas foo]ing vhom, and never enterlained
'119.
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tbe idea that madness migha be a nobler thing than sanily Don ?-ui:$te is a dadng expedilion on an imitation lvlrr horse which keeps collapsing because it is asked to do mor( thafl it can; but throughout Hzdit,/at we hear the clip'clolr and hee-haw of the dogged humorous disillusioned donkcy'
From romaflce r'€ tturr to drama. Serious drama can br satirized by the applicadon of either of tbe two method$, mock'heroic parody and burlesque. ln Greek lirerature anrl art we can see them both at rvork. From the tragedies oL Euripides, Aristophanes hkes the elaborate lyrical aria, appropriate for the agonies of a princess half'mad willr despair, and uses it to express the gricfof a house1{ife u]rorr ncighbor has stolen her pet roosler.€. From a passage of prrr found meditation, he lifls a myslical question, giv€s it 1(l x mocking speakcr, and adds puns that turn it into nonscnsci Who knows jt Iite may not be ftali) death? aDd breath be broth? and sleeP a Pillow-sliP?"?
Aristophanes can also burlesque a heroic $eme, the jorr!'' ney oI Hercules dorvn to the land of dearh, by having il repeated by the gay god Dionysus, l'earing Hercules' liorr' skin and ctub but retaining his own silk robes, luxuridrr shoes, and sensitive natur€.63 In the Grcek $'orld there wctc many such dramaLic burlesques of great myths, althougll their texts have now disappeared. We know them maioly by their name (Phlyakes, 'whic]I' the Creeks tmnslated ir$ "fooleries") and by many ludicrous Paintings on Gre(k vases. These piclur:es are the reverse of the conventionirl cilbert Murray-Edith Hamilton idealistic view of thc Greeks, and are cruder than the wofit comic slriP of todry For instance, there was a famous legend which said tbrrl Zeus, king of the gods, took on the exact semblance oi King Amphitryon of Thebes so that he could possc$i Amphitryon's virtuous Queen Alcmena. On her, duritrg . 120.
ght miraculor$ly prolongcd, he begol Hercules. The tings, r'hich seem to represent the mylh as it $'as hted into burlesque for the stage, shorv a gross fac_ !d Zeus rvith goggling eyes, helped by an equally and grotesque Hermes, canying a precarious ladd€r lqcond-story rvindow, rvhere sits Alcmena, looking out tly as though she were a cheap adulteress or a tlture. The Roman comedian Plautus (t'orking on a origiDal norv lost) mised the story above that lorv I, in a comedy which is sometimes seriously romantic tometimes coarsely comical. In one of his most richly t sentences, fung said "The gods are libido." Since presses rhe md\(Il;ne desire ro pos.es. anorlrer man r s and beautiful 1!ife fithout ofiending her or [illhim, AmPhitryon is the perfectly libidinous burlesque cdy. It inspired many imitations-for instance by DryEnd MoliCre; and finally, 1n Amfhit\^on JB by Jean udoux, i! rose high abovc burlesque and satire into hcaven of pure comedy.
English th.re rre a r,umbc, of [rmous fa,odier ol drama. Beaumont and Fler, h.r. Knight al thp ir?g P6rlJe and Buckingham's Reiaaxal are both plays lhin ptays: in each case the device emphasizes Lhe forced tural quality of the exaggeratedly heroic style thqr are ying. One of our most versatile satirists, Henry Field" s$nck otr Totn Thum& ll,e Gzd, at the age of rrventyand n"ext year, in the mock'scholariy manner o{ the CIub, added a number of notes, sho$'ing horv ly he had ranged among the obsolesc€nt heroic dmmas the high baroque period.o'g Ir was shortly outdone by nry Carey (best reme[rbered for the charming song, ly in our Alley") in a parodic drama whose opening cds in sonority even the most potentous eflects of Irylus:
.121.
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Aldiborontiphoscophorriol
Whoe telt )ou ChronoDhoronthologor?Io Shelley poured his hatred of the British ruling classes anrl King Cleorge I\rand his QueeD Caroline into a mock tragedy cnllcd Oedtpus'fyrannus, or Suellfoot the TJrdnt. With its chorus of pigs, and its lyrics srng by a gadfly, l leech, and a rat, it is intended to be a parody in the Aristo. phanic manrrer; bua the plot is both so topical and so fantastic that ir can scarcely be undentood, much less er). joyed, noi!adeys; much of the verse is so genuinely mrj€sri(
renind ur uncomtorlably ol Prametheus Unbountll and the jokes are painfully ped;lntic, as rvhen the lonial
as to
Nlinotaur turns our to be Iorl the Man'Bull, i.e. John Bull. One of the nost successful dramatic parodic$ of the prescrt certury covers one of the most diflicult, mosr revered, ol subjects. In a short story containing an ambitious uI, finished lerse tragedy, tr{ax Beerbohm poked fun noL only at a splendid historical period and a somber theme, brt at a proud [nglish heritage, the Shakespearean rradirior Its vcry name embodies th€ conrrast bctween two sides ol the Erglish nature: one quiet, rcspectable, bowler-hattcil, imitatile; the orber romantic and antiquarian ancl quixori(. He ca1led it "*nonaroLa" nroion. Beerbohm, being arr clusiv€ wdter, does not aim at one individlral sariricrl targct. Some elements ot the plny are parodies of Shakc speare-for instance the unintelligibl€ witricistrs of thc Iool, rvhich are permilted to inlerrupt a serious episoclt, and the trich of closiDg a scenc trirh a rhyming couplet: Tho lole be $reet, revenge js sl\'eerer far. To tlie P;a,/al Ha, ha, ha, ha, harl
But the absnldly lolty idealism of some of the speechcs, and thc nnprobable mulripliciry of historical charactcr.r
( Re-enter Guells and Gl,ibcllines nghting. f.nrer N{icln( l Angelo. Andrex dcl S4rto appears lor a moment at ;r 122
w, Pippa passes.") are closer ro drc blank-verse dnmas
luch alrthors as Tennyson, Brolvning, and Stephen lips; while the elaborate crowdscenes and colossal rs are probably parodies of fie production techof Beerbohm's brother, IIerberL Beerbohm Tree.'1 peare hims€if enjoyed rvriting parodies. Falstaf, Urlcsque knight, has an attendant who is a parody of a lcr. Scolded by Dolt Tearsheet, Pisrol discharges himln Marlovian verse: Ucs
Shall pacL-horses,
And hollow parnpcred jades of Asia, Which cannot go but rhirty milcs a dav, Compare $'ith Caesars, and with Cannibals, And Trojan creeks?l? and leasr likable of his major phys, ilrhough It parody, may rvcll be callecl a satirical burlesque. ht anil Cressid.a (produc€d soon afrer Chapnan issued Ulnslation of certain books of Homer) takes the greatllrisodes ftom rhe.Ilidd and dramarizes rhem, parrly rvith ious realism, partly ith bitrer and contempruous dis[lon, Beginning itl] tlte ducl of ]Ienelaw and Paris 0 slrangest
moving or to the siaying oI tbc Trojan champior lor, it frames rhe ertire cpic rridin a runred love story initially as passiollare as rhat of Verona, bur ed throughout by the slimy character oI its promoter .?3 All the orher persons and incidents are simi (listorted y into cruel burlesclue. In rhe -alidd, Ichilles lns in his tenr afrer srrlTering the insutt ro hir honor, lt)g to his lyre "the glorious deeds of men"; but ShakeIc makes him 1o1l on his bed and $arh Patroclus V(ltying the speech and mann€$ of rhe orher.creek .rr Thersites speaks but once in the lliad and is rhen forever; but here he ir rolemred, ar least by one lltc lreroes, and continues ro venL his spleen in coarse I lll through the ptay unril the final batrle, when he
PAROD!
PAIIODf
taunts the men who caused the war, Paris and ]\{enelau$, and then nrns ofi gtorying in his own meanness arl(l corvardic€.?5 It has been suggested that the power of satiic flowed into this r€pell€nt but memorable dmma after thr church had ofrcially banned the wiling of regular satircri certainly Prince Hamlet, $'ho rvas reading satire duriD{ his fits of m€lancholy, rvould have enioyed it.?o John Gay's a4gt:_gfiga, {'hich proclaims itself Ir burlesque by its very title, and confirms the fact by dlc grace and nobility of the sentiments married to honestly charming music, but put in the mouths of whores an(l cutrhroats, rvas popular for many years.?' It has recently had a revival, norv downgmded b burlesque social satir(r oI thc bitterest kind, in the work of two left-wing rebcl$, Bertold Brecht and Kurt Weill, produced in Cermany rrt Die Dreigroscheno|er (rges), and still running in Nc$, York ( r 96 1) as ?ft a ?,ri ru iP_enn) l?lera. Ol operatic pa r r, rlies, the most popular in tbe last three or four generatiors have been the operettas in lehich Gilbert and Sullivirt car ed to absurdity the theatrical devices of conLemporary gand operir the pompou\ choral proces'ions: Bow, bow, ye lower middle classesl Bow, bow, y€ tradesmen, bow, )€ massesl'3
wh.n thc foeman
bares
hk
steel.
Tamntaral tarantaral \{e uncomfonable feel, Tarantarall! the soliloquies in recitative leacling into a great solo:
An I
alon€,
And unobserv€d? I amlso the dynastic plots turning on the confusion of trvo
I m;xed
those chiidren up, And not a .reaturc kncw itlrl
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babi< r
trtificial nomenclalure (Lady
Sangazure,
Little Bulter-
lhe Duke of Plaza Toro, Ralph Rackstrarr), the choral
t8 of alarm ("Oh, honorl"), the family curse, and conventions which ofien made even seious operas ridiculous. To us these Gilbert and Sullivan operseem (apart from the few consistently romandc Pieces The yeomen ol the Guard) to be little more than ^s ies of serious opera, as the gay frolics of Of€nbachh6us in HeIL, Bedutiful ltdl.n, etc.-are burlesques of opera. Bul the Ofienbach pieces also satiriTea conFrench momlitt for OrPheus does not even [o r€cover his lost wife (r('hat Frenchman $'ants to a lost rqife?). And what seems to us a perfecdy pi.ece, H.M.S. Pinalarr, was in its time a biting on that sensitive organism, the Royal Nal'y. One of climaxes Lhe rebuke of Caphin Corcoran {or saying mme"-satirizes the enlighrened modern democntic :ples of discipline Uhich the innovators in the Navy tlying to introduce; and one of irs chief characters' Joseph Porrer. K.C.B.. 'a.irizc. William Hcnry Smirh. i nirer a srrccesful rarecr as a Look'eller moved inlo lllcs and became First Lord of the Admiralty in Dis'0 r8?7 Cabinet, having never, or hardly ever, gone rcn, It stnng Disraeli, for he said that H.M S Pinatore dc him feel "quitc sick." But the satiric Part of the lbcrt and Sullivan operas has long evaPomted, leaving ing saccharine and convendonal, so ihat, in their n, they have been parodied and satirized by a brilliant tlsh humorist, Sir Alan Herbert.s' ln lgBS that restless innovator T. S. Eliot brought some' ng new into the theatre $'ith his Murdet ;n thc Cathe In rgb?, it was parcdied, much of Eliot's lyrical poelry travestied. and Eliocs entire life'work was salirized in hoak.alled The Sueeni.rd, written by a Cambridge Uni Ly don under the cheap pseudonym of "M''ra Butrle." . 125
TI
PARODY 7n fotfi, The Sueen;ad is a drama in a dream. As the c€D. trai problen of Marrlsr in the Cathed,ral is the temptatioD of Archbishop Thomas i tsecker, so rhe cenrmt p;oblel) of The Sueeniacl is the rriat of T. S. Etior*atthough th( figure repr€senting him is narned alter one of the charactetn whom []iot himsell created, S$,eeney. He, his works, anrl his in{luence are examined before a courr consistins ol the Public, in rhe same ay as the character and careelr ol a dead Roman Catholic are examined Lo see whether he ir $'orthy of being dectared a saina. The court is firsr addressed by a ,,posrulatoi," a criri(l rvho admires Eliot. In an eloquenr speech interrupted fronr time to time by lyrical ejacularions from a supernatulrl chorus, he d€scribes the spirirual crisis in whicjl. Tlte Wastt: Zazid 1{'as rvdtter and publishe.l, irs mythical content, anrl its peculiar allusive rechnique. I{e rhen oualines Elior,$ later poems (dough nor his plays), and finaly proposc$ that Eliot should be canonized as a saint oI literarDre The opposing point of view is eloquently put by th( "devi1's advocare."
T a;T rn nrove rhJr ssF.nr\. i minor poer Lho miAt,r ul'ersrn tr.r\e,-11,.d F\r.n.;vF norne. ha., tor mori!. altog€tlier hostjle to rhe spirit of tirerarurc, been etcval(\l by vested interest into his presenr exalted posirion.
IVith deadly
eamesrness, he casrigaEs The tI/aste Land, \ being a horvl of unimporrant personal discomfort, whidr ignored rhe far grearcr issues of irs day-greeity financien and desperate unemployed, ar and the after,agonies ol $'ar- He accuses Eliot oI despising democracy, and (in x peculiarly rerealing phrase) of having a ..parialiry for General Franco, Marshal Pdtain, Charles Maunas, lanrl the bankcr-priest oligarchy of Europe and America.' Iinally, he d€norDces him for pretending, alrhough a f(, cigner. ru l* al Fngli\hman: rnLt rhe,horus singi: ,
126.
PARODf An aj;en wbo adopls the staDce Ol guitclcss trnglish arrogance And gazcs down his nose askancc ls bound to overdo irt some furth€r d€bate, during which the "devil's ad" delivers a savage attack on the entire Chrisrian Llon as lhe corrupter ol civilization and of poetry, the dismisses Eliot's claim to beatifrcation; and Eliot, n lerr prrr..e. p,,ud;(d liom hi. oun lyrir,Between rhe mystification And the deception
Betwccn thc multiplication And the division
Falls the Tower of Lo.don uP and disappears,
Not with a cerse but a nrutter Not with a flight but:i llurtcr Not with a song but a stuttcr.
inspimtions ot The Sueeniad. are rhrce famous ry satires: Aristophanes' F ogr, which ends with a by which Euripides, hoping for immortality, is con Od lo perpetual oblivion; Popet Dunciad, concluding lhe conquest of the world by universal Drlncss; and tr's Vi:ion of lutlgmenl, centered on George III'S eninto heaven. In bitterness of spirit, it is closest to Dlmciad, in venatility oI parody, to 7',4e Frogr. But lllcctiveness, it falls far behind all these, because oI the l(rl and spiritual rveaknesses ol its author. Thcre are trvo chicf rcasons for irs failure. one is rhat b tlrrrid ana indirecr. Thu nrme ol f lioL i\ neler men. The charncter vho resembles him is called Slveeney, lClt is ridiculousty inappropriate. Alrhouts-h Eliot dicl Swceney an.l lrroLe se\erdl poemr about him, tl,e tktsignificance of Sweerey is drat he is rot T. S. Eliot. It tle antipode oI Etiot: an ape,man who seduces eirls
PARODf and callously abandons lhem in bro.hels, $rho gets invol!.rl in gangster inrdgues, wtro is fascinating bccause of his srrl'
human cru.lity and violence. "M1ea Buttle," rvhose haLrr'rl of l,liot prevents her fron comprehending dris, rr$i'l Sweeney partly bccause to English ears it sounds ali{'rl and vulgar, and partly (as we see by her addition oI tlrrt first name Loyola) because ic sounds Roman Catholi(r, Far neater to have given Eliot the name of one of his orvll Personde, Pt:ufrock or Harcourt-Reilly; or even to call hitrl Jargon, or Guru. Similarty, "Myra Butde" blunts her rrr. rack on his poems by di$torting their names: Tlre ll//rid 1-a?1.i becomes The Va&nt Mind, and Ash Wednesltl' significantly, The Blood Bath ol the Mass To attack nottexirtcnt poems attributed to a ficdtious character i$ rxrl the best way to cr:eate literary sarire. The orher weakness ol The Sueenidd is that it is frli to fact even falser than the conclusion of The Dunciul Ir attribut€s Eliot's influence 1(r the polve1 oI olgarit(l Chrisdanity, working through critics who are "clerirt," and says explicitly that English poetry was destroyed, alr.l ''rhe r$(nries ot la\r ,enruty. ty rellgion. patriotism. irrr perialism, and capitatism. Neither of.hese asserlions ii arue! neirhcr is even plausible as an exPlanadon o[ llri' extraordinary influence of T. S. Eliol; and, as 1ve rcflr(l on their eroneousness, e conallrde that "Myra Butllr," who misunderstands her orvn sub.iecl, is a convinced hilrl but an unconvincing saLirist. Didactic poetry, $'hich tends to be rathera solemn gcrrrr, can easily be mocked. It would not, I rhink, b€ riglrt lir ca:ll O\id's Art of Lots a sati c parody of a didactic pocrrl it is a didactic poem o a light subject, treated with rl ' appropriate leviry; ahhough I have no doubt that itc irr
it to be a gay r{orldly counterpart to the thou8hdul Ittic Georgicr of Vergil. er, one of the most pungenr satites eveNilten rnock-didaclic poem in dignified and skiluul blank This is Tn' rd), in lour oi;i'riffcrly-tiiiiaLs-ubi;ct. "tiiai"y," aui"i"g, and Nignt, t'y " hedly poor and highly gifted intellectual, Giuseppe (rtp9'r?99).'" It is a detaited description of a day life of an indolent, conceited, and l,orthless young man, set forrh lvith every scmblance of solemn rvide0dmiration. Although the pocm is lar longer than I's richly detai]ed description of the hard-vorking t routine, almost nothing happens ir it. His lord' leads the life ot d,olce lM niante which is still the of many trIedit€rranean men. He does not, iike rv, lie in bed most of Lhe day."{ But he dses lalc,
iiiii;"i,
it lakes nine hundred lines toitel and the various stages of dcscribe his etaborate Costuming, until at las! he sallies forth by deferential servants:
to bLr$ the elFq nt his dcar fdrherLand.3"
to a luncheon-party: the hostess is charming to n0 being her cavalier, r'hile the host, her husband Itorc righr. exr"nd onl\ rhroutsh rl,e l,our. ul ddrlnes). ed. He and his )ady, in their magnificent coaches, [ lound of visits and attend an evening party, rvith VCrsation, 8amb1ing, and intrigues. It is a routine of trifling; but Parilli makes it clear that this shiftless lcss life is mads possible only by the labor of huno[ despised "plebeians" and the attent;on of scores obrcquious lackeys. This, he explains with calm irony, al clly as it should be. The rich and noble are suPer' . In the style of the tributes paid by baroque poets tltcir paLron.. hc , all. hi. lotd'hip wirh his triend' "a I of demigods livirlg on earth";"u and, in one of his goes
.129.
PARODI
(remi sccnt of Lucrerius, rrirh a quolariol t'orn lu\enall hc relarc. rhe myrh rhJr oncF upon a rir.,. long ago, all men lrere equal: his lordship,s ancestors rrrrl those of lhe prolerariat ate th€ same food, drank fie san(. rvater, and enjoye.l .he same sh€trer; but the spirir 0l finest passages
Pleasure divided them, since when rhey have belonged ro two different-species- Happy those rvhom promerheus ma(lc
of finer clay! Happy the Dobleman, who can enioy lifr,
while the others merely serve and $'orkls' All this is florh as light as aeuf a Ia neige,'fhe problerl with such delicacies is to give them a strape which $jll not be cntshingly compl€x. Such salires must be delicalc, rather than brutal. \,Vho breaks a butkrfly upon a wheeD," Since Pafni was himsetf a tutor in fir,o ducal families, Ir| chose the perfcct form for his satire. He made it a diclacli( poem. With eloqucnt humitity he teaches his yollng lor(1. ship horv to rvasre his holrs and his days and his life. Ttx. aristocrat $,i11 not serve Mars, rvho mighr require him t{) shed his precious blood, nor Minerva, rvhose arts arrrl scienccr are lor rvhining studenb_ padni, ..teacher of tlll riLcs of pleasure," $'ili explain to him, minute by minurc, horv to live for himself.so In order to make rhese rrivirt lessons more dignified, more worthy of the upper ctrs$ to rrhom they are addressed, parini fills them wirh creco. Roman supernatural appararus (God and rhe Christir chrrch are never ment;oned) and punctuares them witlr ireroic images, classical quotations, and myrhical episodcs, such as rhe tale ol the irreconcitable rivalry of Cuticl, go(l of love, and Hymen, god oI mariage.'o The medium i$ dignificd blank verse, heavily decorare.l 1\,ith the tofti(,| deviccs ot style: aposrrophe, invcrsion, anrirhcsis, hypcr baton. It is a splendid rococo sarire, and (in it, gen..1 ir mak€s an excellent parallel to pope's ndpe ol the i,och. Ot nther an antithesis. Mr. Pope in his heart admired higtr society: rhe "fair nymphs and rvell dressed yorrhs" wijo
.130.
ARODf in London.01 Parini, like Dr. Srsift (whom he seems, SiDg from porrlaits, to have resembled in face as in llcct), despiscd the nobility and their titles of grandeur, which (as we know from Gulliver's visit ro Lillipu0 P
[rdac is superior to a Clumglum.o' I'lnve you ever gazed at the noblemen and princclings Ilhyed by artists of the eighreenth century, and obfrom the canvases of coya and other percipient lnLers, rvhar iools rhFy wrre wirhin rhei' finc rlorhes. their jelveled orders, and their armor of snobbery? stare at the artisl, and, from his canvas! al you and wilh ineffable haLrreur. ac lhoLrgh rlrc) sere conle, ring , Prlvilege upon posterity by permitting themselves to be talized; and in fact ttrey are pompous nonentities. lhe same rvay, Thomas Tefierson, in one of his letters, ks with contempt of tbe hereditary monarchs of While in trurope, I otten amused mysetf with contemplating llrc characters of the thcn rcigning sovcrcigns. .. . Louis the XVI was a fool, of my kno ledge, and in despitc of the nswers made for him at his trial. The King ot Spain $,as t fool, and of Naples the same. Thcy pNsed thcir liv€s nr hunting, and dispatchcd two couriers a week, one thousand lllllcc, to let €ach other knol' what game rhey ha.l ki1led rhe -l lllc(cJing d,Is . . . h".F an:rrrl' hJJ 1,,'omc wirl,our lllhr.l rnd powerle..: rnd .u r\i'l F\er) herc.lira ) rnunar,h b! tlfrer a few generarionr.'"
tllli's
satire on the young nobleman's day is inspired lltc spiria of Goya's pictures and Jefierson's revolution.
Lyric poetry is casy to parody, if the parodisl has a good it usually dependj.mor:e on soxnd than on sense, it rfllly sufficient to t(ist or diminish the meaning a little, tlrl d to cmphasize $e tricks of rhyrhm and metody, in order tt|ange the original from sweetness and porver into f, Since
.
131.
r/
.
.
.l)
| | r i't'1i
PARODI laughter. Aristophanes sarirized rhe lyrical solos an(l choruses of Euripides merely by applying tireir passionatc roulades and urgenr reperirions ro rri\ial subjecLr. Vereit r early poer,y is der ribed by Hora,e. in a phra.. r. ti-iiii t',' often puzzled scholars, as possessing molle atque Iacetum."/ But it is true that his B?rcolicr (which only rhe uninformcd call Ecloguer) ar€ characreristically "sensitive and sophisti. cated," even "r,itty"; and although rve can scarcely avoi(l seeing him as dre architec! of the tragic lrnaid, we shoull remember tha! he starred his poetic career with a Ie$, lighr lFics, some in imitation and aa le:rsL one in parody ol Catullus. (This is a little merrical rour de force, an in" scriptional poem in "pure" iambics,i.e., preserving t|c sequence of short and long syllables invariably wirhorl once substituring or resolving a tong syllable.),' In the Middl€ Ages, parqdl_o! serio!-sJygc..?]-poeb.y was one of the commonesr forms of sarire: the songs ;f drc Goliards are full of d;stortions of Christian hymns and (Jt' poetic sections ol Floly Scdpture. That mild but penetrar. ing humorist GeoFrey Chaucer shorvs himself, I,hen askr(t by lhc innkeeper for "a tale oI mirth," responding rvith rhc story of Sir Thopas, a good parody of th€ naive derail, r,orD clich€s, frll in phmses, and rocking,horse rhythm of medi eval balladry: Sir Thopas wcx a doghty swayn, Whyt was his face as payndemayn,
His l;ppes rede as rcse; I-Iis rode is llk scarlet in grayn, And I yow relle in good cerraln, FIe hadde a semely
nos€.
BuL after some thifty stalzas oI this "rym dogerel' lhe hosr has had enough:
says
No mor€ of rhis, for goddes dignireet he, in the very voice of rhe approaching Renaissancr,,
.132
adds in the r erY tone nat worth a tord,"j3
of Rabelais that such
Poerry
ith $e rcvival of the classics, lvrics in imitation of
two great Greek and Roman masters became Popular: ic, irregular, passionate Pindaric outbursts, and cool, [u1, economical, atlNive Homtian reflections. Both wereparodied: rhc Pindxrit.a'moreambirious more uenlly;nd more efle,rir.lv Sr.ilL atluallv bFgan hi( ry rareer by !\ririnB runder Cowlel ' lnfluence\ Pinpoem\ which were seriou\l) inrended. By rheir tul ilarte'r and inaptropr;are imdger) rhey Lecome scll , as in the lines describiDg horv the Archbishop of nterbury could be promoted to heaven ltithout losing ccclesias11cal vesxnents: There are degrees above I know As $rell as herc belo\a', (The so.ldss Muce herqeu has rolJ
'ne
co)
\4herahish p.,ri,i,n.oulc dr."d heJrcnly Sit clad in lawn of purer oven daY,
e r\
1o sancroft shall be given, of Hen!en: the,netroDolis ln Chiel ot rhe ln,"..1 .,;n'' and nom 'rr\pr"lrre h"r' ' Translalecl to archangel there."?
Therc some high-sPirircd thronc
Swift knew such stufi 'was useless' and after Dryden lirmed il ("Cousin Slvift, yolr lvill never be a Pocl"), he anme an antiPoet, who Preferred to mock and degrade fivo spirited C gocldess NtrLrse. For examPle, Dryden wrote por{'ers of music Ildarics intendeal to evoke the various d to be sung bt the Sl Cecilia Society. s$'ift wrote ddntdtd ridic line the poeric and musical imitation ot and emotions, tfhich made Pegasus inro a hack, "crolDg, lolloping, galloping," in 6/8 time. ln Englistr the most famou$ 4gllllagrrody is an ini"-77i-Ahti'Jacobin nlons iittle poem *,hich "ppeo..d the it satirizes ieta in 1798. In srbject, Philanthropists
. 133,
.
'.
i, li
PARODf who are full of generalized love oI humaniry but will nrx give a charitable coin ro a p-eddler. In form it is a ncnr imiaation of Horace's Sapphic merre as transferred ro Eng. lish by Southey and forced upon a recalcitranr non-quanri tative language-so that, if ir is to be read as true Sapphics, the normal English accenruation murr be disrorteal. Needy Knifegrin,lerlwhirher irF )ou Soing) Roueh is rhe rojd, vortr wheet j, our oi orda _ Bleak blows rh€ bl;!r; yotu hat has got a hole in'r, So have your breecheslss
It was similarly in Regency England that one oI tl)r most brillianr groups oI parodies in lirerature (mosr ol them lyrical) was assembled. This was _R?/s.red. Addrestq by the brothers James and Horace Smith. In r8re rhe n. Drury Lane Theatre, rebuilr afrer a fire, was opened, anrl a prize was olTered for the best dedicaron address_ 'I-lr Smiths' volume purports to be a collectioi of the entricl which failed. They are truly delightful. Some of rhem havr so much charm and life rhar they would not disgrace tLcjr putative aurhols. Tom Moore, for instance, is credircd witlr a ga! song in his own )itring anapdesrs crrqing his owl favorite senrimenr aI oul senses bewitders, And gilds while it carves her dear folm in the heart, wlal.n::d ha( ncw Drur) or .Jrvers and Sirden. W;rh Naru,c so boun,eou\ why.a upon Arr? When womaD's sofr smile
How well would our actors artend to rheir iluties. Our hou.e srte in oit and our au,hors in wit, Tn liFu ot ]on lampq it a row ot )ouns beduriFq Clrn.ed lighr t'om rh€ir e)cs betwien u. and rhe pir? A perfect parody rouches borh sryle and contenr. I |r Smiths saiirize not o ly Lloore s chaiacteristic rhythrns lrrrl imagery. but hi\ rhouqhr: his tigh{ hivotous rn.ualiry. Li, glib Iish blarney. So rheir parody ot Lord Byron attackr ' 134.
PARODT the melodramatic cresccndo his characteristic sple€n.
o[ his Spenserian
stanza
licd wittr
home, of wite. of children tired, The restless sonl is driren ,broad to roam: led abroad, all seen, ycr nought adrnired, l'he restless soul is .lriven to w,nd.r hom.. $!Led with both, b€neath new Drury's dome nend Innui awhile conscnts to pine, There growls and cu$es, like a deadly cnome, Corning to vi€w fantasti. Columbine, wing with scon and hate the nons€nse of the Nin€.
this hypodermic satire, the wooden lu of "Peter Pindar" and his coarse mock epic ?lre laJidr, are artistically ineffective, although they were, in llr iime, good politicai propaganda.r" l'hc mid-ninereenth century produced one of lhe most llllanr of att parodists in linglish liierature: C. S. Calver Comparison $,itb
(r8gr-rBB4). His mock-Morris batlxd, wift the pastoral n "Butter and cggs rnd a poufld of che€se," is a small and (altho[gh i! is not lydcal but dramatic) hiri CocA d Lhc Bull, satirizing Browning's fiirg azd the Booh, is lllrrsterpiece .r0o !Vith tncxpccted hul11or, Swinburne xlicd himself in a luxurious lyric jntittlcd Nd/ftdlidid, hh is quasi Greek for "Mistinesses." The lines namble wAver like long drifts of cioud.
illltl
is the mirk and monotonous music of memorv. melodionsly mute as it may be, While the hope in the heart of a hcro is brui.ed br rhe bre,rch of men's rapicN, resigDed ro the rod; Murlc meek as a moth€r ahose bosom.bcats bound w;rlr lhe bliss-bringing bulk of a balm breaLhing baby, Ar thcy grope through ttic gravelard ol oeeds, under skies growing green at a groan
for the
g
mness ot
cod.
l0ntemporary critic has said that Sr,inburne was here (lying only his own trick of mechnnical alliteration; i iurely he rvas also satirizing the logonhoea lvhich, in .135
,/
PARODY his lyrics, often conceals the juvenility of his thought; hi$ sentimental adoration of llhat he used to call "babbies"i and his petulant dislike of God. ln recent yea$ certain poems by T. S. Eliot, Ezm Pour(l, and other moderns poems which may be defined as cx. tended lyrics-have been Irequently parodied. Whcn (possibly Iollowing Laforgue) Arqbibald Mac-Leish $'rord himself into a lnodern. Hamlet, his product rvas pepper(l and served up rrot and siiifrbled by Edmund Wilson il The Omelet of A. MacLeish.
Iliot alam€d m€ nt firsti but y later abasement: And the ctean sun oI Frmce: and the heakish but beauriful Striped bathhouses bright on the sandi Anabase and Thc Waste Land: These and thc Canros of Pound: O how they came patl Nimble at other m€n's arts how I p;cked up the trick of it: Rode it reposed on it drifted away on it. . . .ld has rarely been parodied rvith much success. Ile hirrr. self says, in characterisric tones, "One is apt to think oll{.
Eliot
could parody oneself mtch better. (As a matter of [i]d some cdtics irave said that I have done so.)" But he l)ln praise for one parody of his own work, Chdrd. Whitlou l,l Henry Reed: As we get older we do not get any younger. S€asons
return, and today
I
am fifty-frve. .
.
.r0,
.,1,i , .-.lParodiF' of pro\e (in be divided lor ronvenienrc inr,r ficlional and non-fi.Iiondl. Ther e ar e \ome hnepro,e p. ,r ^ I r'1,;t dies in,lasiral anriquiry. In taniular. rl,dt marr.l,,,r\ srylist Plato lvas one of the grealest parodists rvho elcr wrot€. Delicately and nor unkindly, he imirated aI(l slightly exaggerated the mannerisms of Gorgias and Prorl. goras and Prodicus and odrer sophisrs. Accuratety atrrl
. 136.
PARODI , he parodied the voices of democracy. He one of his noblest dialogues, Phaedrus, ].fith a of Ly.ia, " llr,rirally,o clo'e rhar ir ha. someLimes printed among that oraLor's genuine works, but in !-maLrer so \ile and .on emprible Lhat iL belavs a hatred. Most of one short dialogue, MdT,drsnrr, ipied by Socrates' recital of a speech to be delivered day when Aahens paid annual homage to her lvar The structure and the senliments of the speech are pcachably orthodox, just a little overdone here and little vapid there so much so that many scholars, no! realize holv deeply Plato despised and detested democracl have taken it quite seriotsly. (Cicero ly says it was recited annually in Athens, rvhich is ftmed and is almost surely rubbish.)'o3 Y€t Plato to mate ir per leclly clear er en ro such .imple-hedr red that the speech as a sarire. He made Socrates de, ,lhar he had been taughr the speech by a womanthe mistress of Pericles; and that she had composed tly extempore and partly by sticking together {ragof the funeral speech sh€ r{rcte for P€dcles to deliver. wouid be very suitable in a sadric comedy by Arisrobut is not meant to be taken seriously as historical ) Socrates then says he rvill repeat the speech if his Menexenus will not laugh at him for being an old &nd still having fun: in fact, since they are alone, he strip"ofi his clorhes and dance. He starts wirh a based on the antithesis "In lact -. . but in lvord which was a favorite of Thucvdidesr this and other make it likely that he is satirizing the idealization thich is most nobly expressed in Thucydides' of that slatesman's funeral speech. And $'ith a final o[ conrcmp'. Pliro make\ rl.e speerh .ontdin dn to a famous political event of his own day, uhich many years after Socrates, and Pericles, and ' 137.
PI.RODI Aspasia were all dead. Ir is a diflicult craft, that o[ rtr( srtidc parodist: iI he exnggelates, cdtics say he is crud(:j if he sticks close to his model, they take hir rork as genuiD{l ard miss the satirej and iI he inserrs hints, they ignorc them. Perhaps, after all, Plaro &'as too subrle. There is I very close parallel to his parodic speech in chapter 6 ol Gullil"et's Volage to Brabdingnag, 'rherc culliver, wishing for the tongue of Demosthenes or Cicero, delivers an "rrl, minble paneglric" upon his "dear native counrry." IIc praises Parliament the Lords, "ornament and bulwark of the kingdom," and the Bishops, "dislinguished by rhc sanctity of their lives, and the depth of their erudition," and the Commons, chosen "fot their grear abilities an(l love oI aheir country." I{e eulogizes the la.ly,courrs, rhc treasury, lhe army, the nal"y, and ev€ry "particular whidr might redound to the honour of lhis] country." He is pcr. Iectly sincere; but Swift is nor, and, speaking through rlxr mouth of $e King of Brobdingnag, comments that tlxl najo ty of the English ar:e "Lhe most pernicious race ol little odious vermin that nature ever suFered to crawl upon the surface of the earth." Jonarhan S$'if! rvould nor (like Addison in Pope's chai'acter skerch) Just hint a fautt, and hesitatc d;slike.ma
When he suuck. he struck to kill. Since vernacular prose in the modern languages devLl. oped scarcely any complex reflnements of sryl€ until rhr {ourteenth century or so, prose parodi€s are uncommo[ before rhe early Renaissance. Two sixre€nrh-century saiir.(r, immensely effective in their day although now rather ditii. cutt to enjoy, are parodies of non,fictional prose. Both lelrr(, weapons used in religious disputes. Abour r5 ro the Dominican ord€r prcposed rhat rhe Jewr of westem Germany should be compelled to surrendtr their Hebrew books, such as the Talmud, for destrucri(nr
. 138.
P,7RO Dat
cing opposed to ChristianiLy. They were urged on by a Je1\' called Johann Plefferkorn (here, even at
early stage, the spirit of satirical absudiry begins to and sniq. They were opposed by Johann Reuchlin, ical scholar rvho knerv Hebrer', and rvho declared on the conrary, Hebrew ought to be taughr on the ity level for the berter understanding of the Bible. tely (al$ough I do nor believe it was ever explicirly the congict was betr.eefl men who knew rhat Holy lure was $rritten in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek, difficult languages, and rhat irs text in all lhree was of problems both of stability and of interpretation; on the other side, men rvho belie\.ed that Holy Scriplras clear in strxcture and expression, and rhat rhe ln VulgaE translation $'hich the Western church had fot a thousand years was the central path to its under. Erasmus, who spent much effort on esrablishing iable text of the Greek Nerv Testamenr. rvas a friend lympathizer of Reuchlin. e dispute grelv hot. The Dominicans used rhe w€alth irmendicant order to influence rhe Papal Courr. They a large organization, a venerable name, and a popular . Reuchlin had few supporters, excepr rhe new genof classical scholan, the "humanists," who r,"'erc by churchmen and lairy to be inclin€d toward , However, in r5 r4 he published a collection ol.heir ce with him, Nritten in Larin, creek, and and called Z?lfrrs of Distinguished Men.To th;s rew, opponents did not reply; but someone replied for rhemwinter of r5rb'rbr6 there appeared a volum€ of e Letters al Obscure Mfl addressed to afl €minenr er of the Taculty of Theology at Cologn€, Orrwin Craes. They are, it would appear, lerters from earnest Porters of Master Ortwin, and Pfeff€rkom, and the nican ord€r. But tley are not merely eulogies o{
.139.
.).
PARODY Reuchlin's opponents and invectives against Reuchlin, They are more. They are a. sedes of satirical pictures o[ small minds naively expressing their ignolance, of pedant$ boasting of their misbegott€n and misapplied knowledg., and, though indirectln of coarse sensualists disguising fieir sins in priestly robes. Each of Master Conrad's corr$ spondenis pours out his mind with €nthusiastic candorusually in very bad medieval Latin which (as Milton srl$) "would have made Quintilian slare and gasp"-so drxt ic is difficult to believe that the letters are parodies, ot Iorgeries, The Germans have a sad tendency to chootic clumsy personal names: this too is satirized, for the [Ist time, perhaps, though not for the last. So Mammotre.:trrl| Buntemantellus witeg to Mast$ Orrrvin explaining thrl, though he is in holy orders, he is in love, and asking lirt advice. (His name expresses his character:: it means Bosont. handler Brightcoat.) Conrad Dollenkopf boasts thal hc knorvs all the myrhs in Ovid's Metdmorphoses by heatt, and can analyze them in four ways, naturally, literally, hisrorically, and )pirirually, \irh illucrralive quordriorr\ from the Bible. There are letters from Lyra Buntschuch. macherius, CunradN Unckebunck, Henrichus Cribelinirr niacius, and Magisrer Noster Bartholomaeus Kuckuk. The Letters ol Obscure Men immediately became poprr. lar and $ en t into a second rnd i rh ird edir ion; a nes set ir\ with sixty-t$'o additional letten came out in rbr?; and th( entire work was condemn€d by the Medici Pope Leo X irr a Bull. The aulhors are not certainly known, but are lx lieved to be Johann Jnger and Uhich von Hutt€n, wirlr assistance from I{ermann von den Busche. Six months afl(r the appearance of the second series, Martin Luther postcrl the manilesto !r'hich started the Reformacion; and it is n{)l a coincidence thar Hutten was on€ of his chiel supporters.Lq
The se.ond of there famou. \arire\ . 140.
i.
impos\ible
ro
PARODY
tand withour knowing the history of the $'a$ of on in France du ng th€ sixteenth century The main ict 1{'as bet*een CaLholics and ProLestants; but there also a struggle bente€n moderate Catholics ( ho lvere patrioric lrenchmen) and extremist Catholics (l\'ho strongly support€d by the PaPacy in Italy and by rhe of Spain). The r,]49irE!I*S!J93, lvhich aPPear€d gB and was later reissued in a larger form, is a parody council held by the extremists.lo6 ILs title is not quite I a Menippean satire is a mixture of prose and vene, this is a mixture of lrench, Italian, and Latin Prose. cpigraph is Horace's_pllIgre, "tg!l!C..!!,.-9.".t'-l:iLu th," and one of its contribulon $'as Pierre Pithou, of the only good manuscript of Juvenal.'ot It de_ es with apparenl gravity the opening Procession of the il, Lhe rl mboli. pir I ure( on the Iape.rr je' in I he hall the members of the assembly; then ir Soes on to give chief speeches, and closes $'ilh the council's resolutions. orations ar.e, of course, impossibly frank: the Duc de ycnne compares himself lo a bloody-handed Roman dic, saying thac he lvas "a Sood Catholic Sulla"; and the
legate ends with a benediction (in Italian), "God war be with youl" It is an amusing, but a cutting sadre; although now scarcely rcadable excePt by sPecialists, in its time help to change history. olh .he Letters of Obscure,l{en and the M€niqfean attacked the emotiollal and intellectual attitude of p, Later, the art of prose became more complex. The oI Greek and Roman rhetodc were rediscovered adapted. Individual t\'riters developed their special ; aflectatiols such as the tight arabesques oI Eurn*became fashionable; and both were parodied mimicry, delicate in the eighteenth cen!ury, became -n6{etii in the nineteen$. There ar€ two line prose
in
the Smirlr
tttotlrt. Rcl4tPd l,tdre\,"):
a
. 141
.)
P
ARO
DI
P ARO
rough, slangy, bare-listed, boiled-beef-ard-turnips spee(lr by WiIIiam Cobbett, and an- engagingly sesquipedalil address by the ghost of Dr. Johnson.
Paturient mountains have ere now pmduced musciputlr abortions, and lhe audiror who compares incipienr grand.Ur
vith final vulgarity, is rcmind€d oI the
pious hawkers,,t Constantinople, who solemnly pemmbulate her stre€rs, cx. claiming, "In $e name of rhe Prcphet-figsl"
Itr our: own day amateun of parody have rcceived paF aicular pleasure from t1{o minor: masterpieces in this arca. Several cryprognphers have extracted senrences from th(l rvork of Shakespeare, anagrammatiz€d rhem, and discovcrc{l them to contain asserrions thar the plays were reallywittcrr
by Lord Bacon or the Earl oI Oxford or some other darl star. Ronald Knox applied the same mcthods to Tennysol'r
In
Memoriam, and extncted Irom ir a group of crypr(r grams quite as eloquent as those of the Shakespeareal heretics. The first line of rhe poem
I held ir rrurh. w;rh him
who \ing\
Who is writing thisi H. NL lureth hi.l.
Similarly, O prjestess in the vaults oI deartr can be interpr€ted as V.R.L the poet€ss. Alf T. has no duries.
Df
,,\ng1o-Catholic to boot; and that three authors creared Boswell's Lile ol Johnsan. t O! all the Amcrican Presidents, DJ{4ht. D. Eisenho$er I perhaps the least eloquenr ."i;;;;;t#;%;i. kness $'as thcrc. Flonesty shone Lhrorgh. There $'as no lfice, There rvas no grandeur. Sometimes th€re was not
, and an
grammar. FIis tongue-tied forthrightDess, and dre tal faiigue which relied, for support, on clichds thick Eoncrete, $,€re handsomcly satirized by Oliver Jensen, rewrote Lincolnh Gettysburg Address as Eisenholver I have spoken it.
I hrven't checte.l these figures but 8? Iears ago, I think it wre, a numbcr of individual! organized a golernftcntal lct.up here in this.ountfi, I b€lieve it covered c€rtain Eastw;rh rhis idea rhey were following up based on a arrangcment and the proBrAm that every individual is iust as good as every other lx(lividual. $rell, noir, of course, we are dealing wirh lhis blg diference of opinion, ciril disturbance you rnight sa),, ilthough 1 don'L like to appear to take sides l0(lividuals, and the point is nalurally to check up, by actual nxpcricnce ir the fi.kl, to s€e wh€th€r any gove mcntal t(trtp with a bes;s liLe the one I aas mention;ng tr?s anl v[li(tity and find out whether fiat dcdication bl thos€ cnrl] hr(lividuals wilt pay ofi in lasting values and rhings of that o|,r) areas,
torl of national independencc
Iln'1.$3
if
Thus Knox "ploved" tlnt In Memoriam $,as lvritren t)y Queen \rictoda to enshrine her afecdon for Lord Mcl boume, but, to shield the digniry of a monarch i|nd 1tr. emotions of a lady, published under Tennyson's n.1mc. t the same vollrme, IrrdJs in Satire (r93o), he ridiculcd rtr(' critical dissections of lhe Bible, the 1liad, and similar $,or t(s of vencrable antiqtity, by using the same techniques i)t "scholarly analysis" to shol' that rhe second part of Br yai's Pilgrinfs ProgTerr r,as a forgery composed by l
intensely vritlen, ofren parodies itselt. l;xprrlar, ir ah^.rrys arts to Le parodied. The modem vel was no sooner born, in tears and vapors, than it i\'as lrxlicd, in Lumors and lccrs. Samuel Richxrrlson's n!t!,tln::! ylr!!,'9-I!"tL,dr_dc.l (,74i}) telti horr a senant-$r1 $lth n Doble heart resists rhe elTorts of her rnasrer to nake t hir mi.rrcs. and i. rcs llde,l h) L.,nn:ne lri( l,"Jl Sllr, llcnry Ficlding's Jos. llt An drelLr.\ (ri4r) tell, Loiv hcr blothcr, a Iootman rvirh a noble heart, rcsists the ellorts
.112'
.143,
r
Itose ficLion,
J
PAROD! of Lady Booby, his employer, to seduce him, and is r(.
Df r lerljng tlrat Brer Harre lrjJ dimjni.hed rheir ftic value as litenture. Far different, holrever, is Max bohm's A C hri t mas Garlar.J ( r q r 2). This is one of the emen$ o[ parodi{ sarire in any ]anlge; but its inrent is desrrucrive. Il conrains eighreen lc tales about Chrisrmii riifr-ls ptacea in the favorite ilng, told in the preferred language and rhytlm, and with the characterisLic €motional color: of a conP
warded far more reasonably by being discharged and fin(l. ing a girl of his o$'n. Since then, €very eminent novelisl has been parodied, and the work still goes on.D, Many of these parodics can be enjoyed for themselr($
s
still a junior schoolboy, had even heard of mos! of the author$
alone, as pure comedy. While
I
rvas
and long before I ittvolved, I shouted vith laughter over a clever collectio oI trai,esties by Bret Hatte called, Cond.ensed Norals. It ri'as easy to recognize the satire on Ferimore Cooper in XILch " MrcA; but who r{ar l{iss N.Iix, the ne$' governess il Blunderbore Hall? Drawing a chair into a rece$, I sat down vith fol.l(l hancls, caimly awaiting fie a ival ot my master. Once i)r rr{ice a l€arfut yeil mng through thc house, or rhe rarrlinll of chains, and cunes utrered in a d€ep, manly loice, brok,, upon the oppressive stillness. I began to leel my soul risnr( n'ith the emergeD€y of the monent. "You look alanned, miss- You don t hear anyrhing, nry deaa do tou?" asked the housek€eper nenously. "Nothing ahat€ver,' I rcmarked calmlt, ns a terrifil scream, followed by th€ dragging of chairs and rlbles in rtri, roon above, droa.ned tor a momenr m,v ftply. "Ir is rtr. silence, on the conLrary, which has madj rne lootistrty
And who rvas the French author who rold of Iean Valieirr srealing the Bishop's candlesricks and then proved billr innocent? Let us considcr candlest;ck! were stoleni rhat was evi.lerr Society put Jcan \raljean in prison; rha! {'as evidenr, t.!). In prison, Socjet,\r took ar'ay his relinemcntj th.1 is evid€lr, likewise.
Who is society? You and I are Socieiv. My friend, lou and I srole rhose candleslicksl
When
in time I
read the originals,
.144.
I
rras sritl amus(rt,
ARO
novelist. trxamples:
in vhich slepr the wh;!e man llweer the forest and the ver. 'he hut
1{'as
oD a clearing
oI Conrad's traders in a dark continenr hears tbe Oligines approaching for a least or Christmas Day, and dB
that the feast is he.
was \{ irh J \en'e ol J. for hiT.rFr\ m.mo.dble comprh:nB tlrtt he p..,.J noq irro rh. imm.d;r,p jurure, Jnd .r:cd, Iot wirhour ,.mpun' rion. ,o ,"ke rhJr p.,iod up hrrer" h.
h
ln(I, pro5pecri\
cLy,
lelr it.
!h Tantalu, aUFmprs. r{irh rhe,onvolurcd r-erebrarion mlny Henry James characters, to derermine Uhether he uld, or, altematively, should nor look irro his Chrisrmas king to discover r-hat, if any, gilts have been lefr for by Santa Claus.
I
hnd spent Christmas E e at the Club, tistening to a grand Pow.now.between certain of the choicer sorls of Adam.
d thereafter Kipling, his or{n narrator, ieaves to .o'atch sadi''ic Je igl,r P.L.. X.36 ar,e,ring and bullying l plcious "airman" r'ith a $'hite beard, a red rlster, anal t looks like a sack over his shoulder. Beerbohm s paroWere intended to \\,ound. As lve knolv from his biogty, he had a streak of feline cruelty. He liked making lleti little fo€erics, and atterirg smooth pictures, and roying rich reputations. He always loarired Kipling; . 115
DI of Lady Booby, his employer, to sedoce him, and is r(P
ARO
warded far more reasonably by being discharged and find. ing a girl of his own. Since then, €very eminent novelisl has been parodied, and the work still goes on.t,
Many of these parodics can be enjoyed for themselv($ alone, as pure comedy. While I rvas still a junior schoolboy,
and long before I had even heard of mos! of the author$ ittvolved, I shouted vith laughter over a clever collectio oI travesties by Bret Harte called, Cond.ensed Norels. It ri'as easy to recognize the satire on f erimore Cooper in XI cL n" MlcA; but who r{ar l{iss N.Iix, the ne$' governess il Blunderbore Hall? Drawing a chair into a rcce$, I sat down vith [o].hl hancls, caimly awaiting fic arrival ot my master. Once i, rr{ice a l€arfut yell rang through thc house, or rhe rarrlinll of chains, and cunes utrered in a deep, manly loice, brok,, upon the oppressive stillness. I began to leel my sout risnrA n'ith the emergen€y of the moment. "You look alanned, miss- You don t hear anyrhing, nry deaa do tou?" asked the housek€epcr nenously. "Nothing ahatever,' I rcmarked calmlt, ns a terrifi, scream, followed by th€ dragging of chairs and rables in rt[ monl above, droa.ned tor a momenr m,v ftply. "Ir is rh. silence, on the conLrxry, which has madj rne footistrty
And who las the French author who rold of Iean Valieirr srealing the Bishop's candlesricks and then proved billr innocent? Let us considcr candlest;cks were stoleni rlrat lras evi.le1,r Society put Jcan Valjean in prison; rhat {'as evidenr, t.!). In prison, Socjety took away his relinemcntj thar is evidelr, likewise.
Who is society? You and I are Socieiy. My {riend, }ou and I srole thosc candleslicksl
When
in time I
read the originals,
.144.
I
rras sritl amus(rt,
Df lhoul feeling thar Brer Harte liad diminished th€ir P
ARO
iusic value as literarure. Far different, holrever, is Max 'sA Christmas GarLand (rqr 2). This is one of the emen$ o[ parodi{ sarire in any ]anlge; but its inrent is destructive. Il conrains eighreen
Chdsh; riif
is placed in the favodre ling, told in the preferred language and rhytlm, and with the characterisLic €motional color: of a con-
llc tales about
novelist. trxamples:
The hur in sh:,h .lepr rl,e sl-ire man between the forest
eni
s!,
on a,learing
the r,uer.
oI Conrad's traders in a dark continenr hears tbe 0rigines approaching for a least or Christmas Day, and ds that the feast is he.
ll was \{ irh J \en,e ol J. for him.rFr) n.mo,dble 5orprh:nB tlrrt he p..,.J noq into rh. imn,edia,F lu'ure, Jnd
'r'pd, not wirhour ,ompun' rion. ,o ,"ke ,hJr p.,iod up krrere h. ln(I, pro5pe.ri\
lll Tantalu,
cLy,
lelr it.
aUFmprs.
r{irh rhe,onvolurcd r-erebrarion
mlny Henry lames characters, to derermine Uhether he ld, or, alternatively, should ror look irro his Chrisrmas cking to discover r-hat, if any, gilts have been lefr for by Santa Claus.
I
hnd spent Christmas E e at the Club, tistening to a grand Powwow.between cerlain of the choicer sorls of Adam.
tl thereaft€r Kipling, his or{n narrator, ieaves to .o'atch sadisdc delighr P.C., X,36 arresting and bullying a lcious "airman" $'ith a $'hite beard, a red rlster, anal t looks like a sack over his shoulder. Beerbohm's paroWere intended to ound. As lve kno\v from his biogty, he had a streak of feline cruelry. He liked making llct little forgerics, and atterirg smoorh pictures, and roying rich reputations. He always loarired Kipling; . 115
,l
PARODY he drerv harsh and r,ounding caricarures of I(iplirrg; arrrt no one rvho knr:ws his parody of Kipling can ever rer(t r{ithout disgust certain shorr sio es $hich make up a largr: proportion of KipliDg s work. As for Arnold Bennert, afl1.r he r€ad llecrbohm's story in his manner-abour the srr:onH rvilled girl rvho gave her lover a Chrislmas pudding llrll oI brok€n pottery scraps (or "scruts," rvhich sounds mor-t aurhentically provincial) Lo test his love,he was paralyzcdl he, nho lrabitr.rally turned out thousands of words ercry day, n'as jnhibited from rvriting, untit rhe shock of rhi$ opemtion rliore off, and the scar of Mex's cautery ceav,rl to throb. Brel Flartc parodied h; novelists ]\'ifi he: ry amuscmenti Max Reerbohm, rhough politely, $,ith (o ternpt, and at least once wirh deiicatcly controllcd harr.rl, R._th !4194 q.td_t-ttlemenr are impulsenfrhic[mov,c r rrr
-.l ire same dual morivation
appears in the lrork of rli{ parodic satirisrs of our. own generation.
of adolescent emotion releasing deluges uncontaminated lound by scnse, the Lrump€t shouts and t5. rhe ltlrmorles, urgen, y ol a nrl!e idealin rvho nlways chasing Rimbaud: tbese make up a picture of an in Wolfe's clothing. Clifton ladiman s aim in wriring Was to deflate what he saw as an enormous balloon full lLomach gasi to display a porhit of rhe arrist as a fat bawling baby. Its ruthless encrgy places this parody long po1'!'edul line oI desrructive satires. the Ilut consider this. e cloudbursts
Thc,old Bru*Fl. sprour rnrlpd ofl rh, prg" ot rtr" book I wrs and lJ) iner( an.I .li lun, , i\ p ;n .nr lJp. Tu, n. h.rJ \irh . lei.ur. Jr 1..,.r ,l,ree rouflh. imto,"nr hg m)'eading Irgc, I saw him sranding thcre hoiding thc tol lvith which he had catapulted the regetable, or rafier the reverse, rhc loy firL rlen lhr lJr in'oleirr h,r ,lu,.l'inq ir and rhFn Jho\e lhrtt thL blJ'rJ 'leJra r.,.. L,neJ,h rl-c.hoct ot blJ(k hair llke tangible gas.{1
this phantasmagoric chaos, in a thousand tirtte st..t, . Amid irg towns built across rhe land (O mv Americal O mlt) hric I,ur.ued m\ .oIl \ dF\i,c. lnoting for r Jon-, J !,..t, .r dour wF n,\er round. t,''ing m) FJ r.r; n tif" inro.,,.,t,ty in mv cntrails. I have qu;vercd a rhousand times in s.ns|,t lerror and ecsftiric joy as dre s:ot pulled jr. I have tc]r i I
$i]d and moumful
sorrow ar the thought, rhe wondcrtLrt thought, drat elerldring I have seen an(i known (and hiL* I not known and seen a1l drat i, 1l) bc sccn and knowD rrlx,jr dris dark, brooding continent?) has come our of -y own itt", is hdrcd l. nr mc. rl," \^u'h , r.rn.'1. nJ n\ -\ i,,q..I r r.I n,. ,,) voluned. ll h rr,rer ir nra\ bF, I I, ,\,. \auehr i, t,,o,,gt, Lr) kateidoscopic dals nnd ve h et-and .tule r),n breasr€d ;igtjr,,,
h; farher; the sudden lization of a dangerously dislocared relationshipj sensiand flexuous syntax, uniquely appropriare ro the inuted psychical processes it is employed ro image; a iion for unusual ryords ("defuncrive" lvas invented by kcspeare and is rarely used) and for striking even if al t meaningless images ("hair like taflgtble gas"): ai1 this William Faulkner rendered by Pet€r .le Vries $jrh the mc tevelential amusement as Sa l Steinbere mieht ern loy in dmwing a Confe.lcrate cavahynan ercmally im, Iized in hirgr.rnitk earrcot. nct of violence o{Iered by a son to
and h my dark, illim'rable in Dy insatiatc illj,t 'na.lness, huge unrest, in my appatling and obscene fancies, in rrry haunting an.t lonely menor;is (Ior rve are alt lonclv), ,, mv gro,{.9'rF. il,ornin rb'" Jn I trpn/r ,l prndiq.tiric. It, \,
xl$a\s.!i..L,lo,,J This l;rical moDologlre
ou!.-or rhe cm(tle.eD.llcs;b,teat irrl,
.146.
.147.
il
IV
THE DISTORTINC MIRROR
I. SATIRD AND TRUTrI E HAVE looked at t o o[ the chief forrnr rhat sarire assumes: the droll or scornf|l monologue, rvhich can be disguised in marry ways, bur is usually the utlerance of the satirist in his o$l pe$on; and th€ parody, which takes somerhing real an(l respected and, by using exaggeration and incongruily, converts it into mockery of itself. If we examine the boolr i'hich are called sadrical, rl'e find a third main fatterrr,
\1hi.h k no\aaday,'h..ff_p:pgl4t""J hj al,rry, hn,r rhe mosr rvidely appre,Tared. I hi' i, a sror). J,rs, i. rl,. ,a,il i,,i;li;h a;-u","",.,Gilr64-8,.,..q* .,, mon, just as he can take a traditional literary form, tul]r it upside dolfn, and grin through it, so he can rcll :r srory rvhich carries his message. The narmtive must be ;nlcr esting, and it must be rvell told. But for. -thc,sati{ist-r lll nagqJjtF-".i!-t-o-t_$-e,_c4d.i, il-ir"tlp means. Sometimes l,r r on.eal. Ihi' [a, L and p,crend. t\aL he i' ron, enrar in". .rr repglqn-$ actlla!.oi:_urrencer jliust as they happened." S,,
Rabelais at the beginning of Paxdaclwi. -otrers hims(ll ''biriy and sout, tripe and boll'els, to a m)'riad of clevili" if he tells a single $ord of lalschood in the 1|hole of lrir h isrory._ Somet ime.. hou gh les ofi, n,_the srr iri.r op.rrlv .r admi,, l,i( pn-rpo'c in Iell;ng a 'rory. So. ir, rlrc prn nrrrc
to Cfrlantua, Rabelri' renindr u' rhrr Al.ibiadF,. ,',
mostaiiiiuaent pupil of Socrates, once compared his mas1fl to a groresque casket full of rare and precious drugs ilrtl spices; and he tells us that, in the same rvay, his story is n,,t merely an amusing piece oI fiction, but contains mrrrlr importanL truth about religion and 1ife. There are scores of different types of 6ction. Horv carr ur
.148.
THE DISTORTlNG MIRROR which of them are satidcal? Is it possitrle to examine , or a play, or a narative poemJ and to say unvocally thal it is a satire? lf so, how can we dislinguish other pieces of frctior, extemally similar to it in ! respecls, rvhich are not satidcal? Obviously a mock describing th€ deeds of petty or ignoble people in or ludicrous terms, ill be a satire; but these similar nanari\es have already been dirru.'ed under y and burlesque. However, there are many famous of fiction which are accepled as being wholly or ly satirical, and are not parodies at all. One of the most lamous is SwifL's Gulliuefs Trauels. rk i6 rot a parody. I. is u close-ifriilii6-,'-6ii6iG6f,ii of travel and exploration; but it does not, either in
f
ln intention, imply that such tales are ridiculous, that neither ia nor rhey are r{othy of belief. Some tellers do lhis for instance. Lucian in his True Ilis but Suilr does nor. On rbe conLrary. he trie. verl to make the book seem authentic, by inserting in' lgible and credible derails whi, h d real \oyager hould (r'earher, ship's coufie, latitude, longitude, etc.), edding maps, by transcribing ar least one passage ver' lm lrom a genuine sailor's log, and by placing his ginary counries in lirtle-kno\{n parts of the world, rhere ;r. so Io speJk. room for them. fhu'. L illiptrr Out in the lndian Ocean, south west of Sumatra. The of the Houyhnhnms is in the same region, lvithin ng distance oI Australia, whos€ original inhabitants so primitive as to resemble Yahoos. Laputa, which m Oriental feel about it, is in the Pacific Ocean torvard n, Brobdingnag is in the north-eastern Pacific: with on serendipity Sldft located it somewherc between Kodiak islands, where the enormous bea$ live, and area of Oregon and northem California, where the l8nincent s€quoias make us all feel as Gulliver did among €r or
. 149.
,]
rEE DIS?ORTINA MlRROR Bian('. rhu', Cuttiuct r TrudcL,. atthouSh ir is unquc_ lle lronabl) a \jrirc and at,hough rhcre i. a sneer in irr nan,r, rs o\..no mean\ a pdrod\. tr i\ pr.jenLed as a selou. rn,l v:ridr,a] nJlrdli\:. lr mr\ besr be ,omra,ed wirh ,s., prec€' ol reati.ri( hcrion \hi, h, tile Cuttiuer, were rvho y ,eadins and imaS,narion: Ddni,t *: ln:il aurhor'J ': RobinJon L,eloei C,x(o'", pubtished in r7 rC. aod lamr t"- voyasp Round th( r/or1d, pubtilhed lhe in r7,i, 1.::,.-f" JUt one yeac betore Swifr brouShr our Cultiv,,t,, T,a;?i:. is berrleen rhe.e r\do ndrraftres? - -What lhe diflcrcn,e Wharrakes Crl/;r p/ a ,aririi dt srory. dnd lbe New toSagr srraighrtorsard non.srri,iral fi,rion? lhe ca,dinal Lesr i, th-e efiec'_o]1.rhe rFader. The Ncra ,/qdgp, Iike orher dd venlure srories. , an bi read \ irh inreresr and exciremen( it,awatens felv other emotions. Bur it is impossible for aD adult to read Gultiuer,s Tratek without ieeling, as thc mosl, polenl part ot bi\ experien.e, a comple.c emorloD rvhth r5 compounded ol amu\ement. (onlempt, di\qu,r, and rho"e eflici'ii genera y ]lepr ivc"3fi d,.. L11 l:'*4., srory whn h pioau, ci una .i,,,,in, ':i*ll:1. 'u,..sruiry rn rs emolon ^ is a rur r esslul saririr narrarire. A sror) r\hr.l, merely amuses us or thrills us, with no aftertasre of derisiv{l bittern€ss, is
a
comedy, or a tale of adventure, or a romancr,
or. ro use the \ague\r rermi a novel. Hdtred which is n,,r srmpty sho( led re\ ut5ion bur i\ based on a moral judAmenr, together with a degree of amusem€na which may"rang,i b:ly*" a.sour grin rr rhe in,onsruiry or rr,, i:j.ryh:*
ot?n absurd fraud _ such d,e, in varying propuF trons, rlre cller rr ol satire. When rhey are absenr trorn .r prece ot h(ion, ir is nor satirical. or a.play produres teerins.s or pure hd,ri.l _-1, revuhion, 1 ',:? and nirhour a rrare ol sornful amLrsemenr ur regreaful conr€mp_t, ir is noa a satire. Ir is a negarive novcl, ex_po\ure
an anir,romaflce. Such books ar:e . 1SO.
as
yet uncommon. thouolr
THE DISTARTINC
MINNOR are being ,dtten in oLrr gcnemlion. The besl exples which occur to me are the novels of the Marquis de c, and certaiu re{ent tales of brutality and dcgradarion, clr as Nlirbeau s Torlrre Garden,Bo\,:Ies's ShelteringSAy, kner's Sdnct dry, ard the rvorks of Gen0r. These black k6 lack nearly all the central purpose and underlying lism of satire, and although the nausea which they incouid easily be used by a satirist, their molal import not sati cal. They are in fact the counterparts of such y saccharine romances as [,linor Glyn s Three Weeks Franccs I'lodgson Burfiett's Liltle Lord. Fauntleroy. Snlire can be mistaken for other forms of art and litera, nless its emotional and moral eflects are clearly de-
and undcrstood. Aestheric typer are not walled ofi m one another by impenetmble ba11iers. At their exthey diverge clearly and unmistakabty; but they ug from roots r,;hich lie near ro one another in the lman soul; and, through much of their development, Cy gror/ closely together, so that only rh€ boldesl and t determined representative oI each type appea$ to De that particular type, while odrers k€ep crossing nrier. and ming inA powe,. dnd ,ompc,ing rvirh one hcr, just as do people, and languages, and societies. in forms of literature arc particularly close kinsmen near neighbors of satire, and often excbange with it h costumes and idc.rs.
On one side of satire lies its grim grutr oid ancestor in the stone caves, still echoing the martial monorony thc aavaget skin drums roaring for the destruction of enemy tribe, still shrieking I'irh the furious passion oI lho witch'doctor denouncing a rival. This is Invjqtive. parent on one side rvas anrhropoid, and on rhe other, lUplne. Lurking near by is the smaller, l'eaker, but somellntes more dangerous mutant of Invecrive: a by,blow born ue
' 151.
TEE DISTORTTNG N4I RRO R though both poets add the.harm of elegant expression atxl subtle imaBery: see Theocdtus' fiIth and Vergil's thir(l bucotic poem. The fifteenth-cen.ury Scottish poet William Dunbar it best known for his "lament in sickness," with its sad rc. fral'l Timor mortis conturbat met but uhen he was wcll he was full of vigor: he has left {ourteen pages of livcly abuse exchanged witll a fellow.poet, The Flyting of Dunbu and, Kenn€d,y.It ends with a shout of triumph, calling oI Kennedy to "yield and flee the field," and go to hcll "
Pic!;r, ]fickit, convickit Lamp Lollardomm, Defamyt, blamyt, schamyt Primas Paganorum. I schout, apon that snowt that snevillis. T.rle tellare, rcbellarc, inducllar yth the devillis, Sptnk, sink with stlnk ad Tertara Temagorum.
Out! outl
This flyaing is not satire. It is not comedy. Yet ir hit something in common with borh kinds of litemture. Il springs trom some of the same deep roor( in primirivc society, and in the combative challenging spirit ofman!jnrl Clo.e to "atire on Ihe orher .ide \ne .ee. (:r\o,,irl about and h,earing gay masks and pufting on funny hrlr and using unrespectable rvords and disrupting solenlr ceremonies, two other sibl;ngs. These are Comedy arul Iarcc. lt ir ranted Lo. Comerly
rHE DIATORTING MIRROR ignore this side of life; but the fact remains, The ulous is built into human existence. Man! o[ orrr tial arri,irie'. jome of our dFete.r cmorjons. and aspects oI our physical appearance, are ludicrous. disrespecrful youngster who conlrives comedy and the
ing chimpanzee who explores farce both recognize fact. Out of ir rhey creare gaiety Uhich, atthough , is rvholesome; sometimes a joke \,\'hich lasts; and and then, almost involuntarily, a work of art.
then, are the closesr kin of sarir€: on one side, iv€ and lampoon; on the other, comedy and farce. ive and lampocn are lull of hatred, and wish only troy. Comedy and farce are rich rvith liking, and t to preseffe, 1() appreciate, to enjoy. The man who an invective $ould be delighred if, afrer delivering were told that his subject had been over$'h€lmed me and obloquy and had rerired into obtivion. The Poonist r\,ould like his victims to die of a hideous , or (like rhe enemies oI Hipponax) to hang drem,e!. The rdriter .]f comedy or farce l\,outd be raddened Any such nc$'s. He likes people, nor in spit€ of their liarities, bur because o[ rhem. I-Ie could not en.hrre nodon that all lhe oddiries mighr disappear, and teave World to routine and to him. Invective and lampoon from above and from behind: one is rhe prosecuring , the other dre assassin. Comedy and tarce look and lron belor': one is the amused friend r4ro his frieud's absurdiriesi rhe other is rhe servant who his master but cannot keep frorn befooling and mimhim. As for satire, th€ saririt al$,ays arserts that he d be happy if hc heard his victim had, in tears and basement, permanently retormed; but he lvould in be rarher better pleased if the fellow 1\,ere pelted $'ifi and ridden out of tor!'n on a rail. Sarire is the equivalent of a bucket of tar and a sack of feattrers. ' 155.
THE DISTORTING MlRROR The purpose of invective and lampoon is to destroy rul enemy. I he purpo'e ot comedy and lrrce jr ro , du'e l',rirt, less undesfuctiv€ laughler at human rveaknesses and irt, congruiries. The purpose oI satire is, through laught and invective, to cure folly and to punish evil; but il lt not achieve this purpose, 1r is content to jeer at foll and to expose evil to bitter contemp!, does
The purpose of satire is one of its distinguishing markr, Another is th€ shape which it takes. In narmtive ficli{)ll and in drama this shape is highly important bur is crxy to misunderstand. Nouadays it is oflen misinterprclr(l not only by reade$, bul even, to their detriment, lJy authors. Have you ever read a novel rvhich started out as a rcrl istic study of a small community or of a single social prol,, lem or of one interqsting individual, and then, aa intervir[l veered backrsard and for$'ard between straight analyrlt and grotesque distortion? If so, you have seen the $orl of a wiler $'ho wanted to be two difierent, and disparxrr, things at once: a novelist and a satirist. Often we opcr rt new novel and find that the first five or six chapters rN devoted to introducing the characte$, setting the situatior,
stating the main conflicts, and establishing the emoti(nrll atmosphere. This is done consiftently and reahtically. A group appears and takes life: you are involved in it. A man alld a rvoman emerge: you feel you knolv them. A tl then suddenly, in the sixth or seventh chapter, the whoh thing changes. Peopl€ who have hitherto been normal ]llf transformed into clowns, drunkards, nymphomaniacs, srrrl ists, and chancters from obsolete motion-pictures. 1Il. probable convenalions are held; meaningless fights brcrk out; regular social relarionships are turned upside do$'r, Sometimes rhe author's pretext for arranging this trar formation is a parry at which ev€ryon€ gets tipsy, or :!t
.156.
TI'I
E DlSTORT'ING MIRROR
ted crisis at rvtrich hidden desires and follies and are permilted to emerge. But, unless in the hands lliantly competenL novelist, lhe effect is usuauy un_ . In the ensuing chaplers, the characters return r normal selves and resume lheir established rela' hips and l,hat had been a realistic novel continues, on inexplicable interruption, its expected course For we have eiljoyed the peculiar emotions evoked by Before and after, we were caffied on by lhe quite t emolion of participating in a piece of fiction. we cannot rvholly believe in the characters of the ; ts being real and possibly sympathetic; vet we cannot t the author's wish thar we should see them as utterly ble and contemptible. We cannot follow the inci' oI the story as ahouBh it ere a transcript of real life; we feel anxious vhen asked to enioy them all, every i0s propaganda distortions. One, or the other: noL both. the same ay, you must oflen have seen a Play in most of the characters rver:e recognizably real and in normal human relationships, funny, Pathetic, ; bur \'\'hich was distoried along on€ line of stress. ps one charact€r rvas a professional soldier who did like fighting, came Ircm a pacifrc country, and carri€d lr chief piece of equipment not a revolver bul a bar of late; or perhaps an ordinary household $'as invaded Rendish hypocite who became a monsler dominating , and prepared to crush them utterly until his nations rlere destroyed through a quasi-miraculous ion by God or rhe King or some olher irmtiot1al , In such plays, the dramatist is combining two d1fferlypes of theahe: normal com€dy (or romance, or dy) and saciric drama. lo always tempting for a bdliianL writ€r to mix literary Both Aeschytus and Shakespeare put far more y al1d fantasy into their tragedies than olher audrors
TEE DISTORTINC MIRROR would venture. Bur it is particularly dangerous to urll realistic fiction (rvherher narrarive or dramaric) wirh sarirc, This is because satire-alrtrough it prerends to be telliru the complete trulh about life-in facr presents a propll gandist distortion; while dramaric and narrarive ficliol make a far better balanced selecrion of material and co lil much closer to telling the entire trurh. Ggl'rtllg lq!19" pretends ro be true and re?l; l, r 'q!iti! it-is throrrgh and rhrough. Irs evenrs arc !\,il(lly -distorted. abnormal (as in Grlliuet's Tr//,"ek) ot lirlked by prepost('l.. ous chances and coincidences (as in Candid,e\; its trcro 1\[t superhuman powe$ of enduraDce (as in Don Quixate), ol survival (as in Baron Munchausen), of naivet€ (as in l).r clie and [all) or astuteness (as h Reynard the Fo:t\j ;\ characters, ahhough often described with every appeara|rc of graviLy, are misshapen, exaggerated, and caricatured. Many famous stories and plays rvbich have been calkl 'tatires" are only in part satirical, r,ihile far rhe larger prrt of their emphasis, far the suonser purpose of th€ir authon, lie outside the field of true satire. Somerimes onty a sirrglc chamcter or episode is satirical, in a book rvhich is orln,t, rvise p[rely fictional, purely dmmatic: for examp]e, Mr, Bn'f,ble in Oltuer Tu6r, Osric in Hamler. Ho$,ever, $,lx I we speaL ol 'arirF\ in fi(r;on \\hrrlrer nrtati\e or ,lr.r matic) e shall mean only rhose books which are prt,. dominantly satirical, not those which now and rtrer dn,lr into satire but are mainly designed to presenr a riclr,r and more balanced picture of life.
The central problem of satire is its ielation to realily, Satirt itishes ao expos€ and criticize and shame bunriur life, but it iret€nds to tell rhe \,\'hole rrurh and norbiru{ bu. the truth. In narrarive and drama it usuatty does tlrir in one of trro ways: eittrer by showing an apparently factuirl but really ludicrous and debased picrure of rhis rvorld; r,r .
158.
TI]E DISTORTING MIRROR howing a picture of another world, with which our is contrasLed.
UT OI T}'!S I\IORLD are therefore a large number oI satiric tales in form of visits to strange lands and other worlds. The Iamous in Engl;h is G llit?r r ?rdurh. This terrible say', b1 irs riLlc rnd b) ;r' nlreme. whrr ir means the journey of a guu, or a fool, through various aspects
life-in four
badspells, to paratlel the lour ls rvhich Dean S$'ifr expolrnded in the Pulpil ln his the fool, who (like most of us) belicved men and were reasonlbly lronest and wise, nnds, stage by , that they are ridiculous midgets, disgusting giants, tric lunatics, and apelike anlhropoids; he ends like Swifc himsclt, isolared in a universe rvith only one tart and r,r'ithout a God, unable €ven to take food his family, unable to look al the rest of mankind rvith' loafiing. This spiritual progres$ into the l'oid is dispd in satiric fiction as a set o[ tnveler's tales. Yel il is clear: Lo most readers thal Gulliver is not really to difierent counries, but looking at hrs own Cty through distorling lenses. Lilliput and Brobdingnag llke European counrdes diminished or magnifred (LiUitesembling the France of Louis XIV and Brobdingnag Russia of Tsar Peter); Laputa is likc lhe Royal Soci€ty lated into Oriental temls; both Balnibarbi and the oos are in diferent rvays like the lrish under English ssion; r'hile the Flouyhnhnms ar:e not suPer-horses supermen lvith the virtues of the Age of Reason. In world opened up to Slvifl and bis contemporaries by lation, there were many societies far mor:e e.centdc far more instructive than those visited by Gulliver. 8a(ire doei nor usurlly iompare lwo real so.ieliesr il a real and an ideal, or a noble dream 1{ith a dc-
uman
'159.
based
7EE DISTARTINC MIRROR rcality. All reality was, for Swift, debased.
THE DISTORTlN.; FI€
collll
not believe that human beings \'\'ould ever make use ot tL( lt capacities for kindness, reason, irnd nobility; and, althorgll outvardly a member of the Chdstian chumh, he belicvc(l so strongly in original sin and so little in the srperraiulrll that he sa$', neither in his orvn faiah nor in its foundr:r, any possibility of redemption.
In medieval times men and'women loved to go on |il grimages. One of the mosl imporlant of medieval pocllrt describes a pilgrim's progress in terms rvhich are at lcn$t partly satiric. This is ?ie \[an of Mdny Sorrous (An:hl, treniw), writte'J in A.D. rr84 by a virtually unknor![ author named Jcan de Hauteville, in nine books, aboul {our thousand five hundred lines of good, som€times ch, quent, Latin hexameters.a Il is a tale oI moral sufferirrg, search, ard redemption. Dissatisfied l\rith his vicious i r(l purposeless life, Architrenius sets our to find Nature, arrrl to learn $'hy she has made him so weak. He passes thronglt regions which are purely allegorical (the abode of Gl|t. tont the mountain of Ambition), r{'holly mythical (tl'r palace of Venus), partly myfiical (Thule, where h€ hc:r'r instructive speeches by the wise men Archytas, Cato, allrl Plato), or real and contemporary (rhe University of Pari$i and at last he 6nds Nature, rvho delivers an adglonnory sermon to him and gives him happiness in the form ol n beauriful rvile. Voderarion. (Curioudl. alrhough rhi. i{,l poem oI moral struggle, it almost entirely ignores the Chrii. tian church, its teachings, and irs promises of redempridr.) Since it is usually grave, abstract, and monotonow, Archi. tr€nius is really satirical. Stylistically, its chief Lali 'Jot in his ffetamorphoses, alld.,like that pocllr, model is Ovid ir should probably be defrnedas a blend of epic and didacri( poetry. Sdll, there are some quirks of critical humor in it, several good parodies, and some quotations and adaltir. tions of Juvenal.6 Like other large medieval poems, rlr(rr,
.160.
MIRROR
ln part bur not predominantly ot generically a satire. Iamous modcrn satire in the form of a travel book is el lluder's Erralon (r8ip). Its lery title, NatLJhere tically reversed, a d the nanes of his characlers, us expect to see a looking-g_lass reflection oI his o('n , Thur, his host in Erewhon is called by t$o of the , m,ddler lr- I ngli.l, nime' rcvcr.ed. Senoj bor; his teacher b€ars the commonest of all, Thims; lhe ruling goddess Ydgrun is the nin€teenth-century juju NIrs. Grrndy. Butler's mind was agile, but it
I
personally can never laise up much enthufor a tale in rl,hich, after long sut{erirrgs and danjourneys into an unknorvn region, ttre explorer finds another yictorian Britain wiih a ferv conven turned upside-down. It is cleveriy told and there are amusing qrirks in it. Yet, when r\,e think 1|hat ul varieties of human society there are on the of rhis globe, aDd ho$' fanastically and insiructively difrer trom dear olJ Fng'ldrJ. \e ma) ,L.,rJ.r ,Lr,erl,Fr ru, r,,' rl,c ,Ill,.r\( woflr, B,'r1." '(d n,"Jn'irnc bamiers in order to meet with such a comrnonplace of the men and nnnen rrhom h. tnev and did llke. "Sky they change, not hcart, who run across the said the Roman satirist:d and it is curious to watch spending ,o m ui h r ime a nd energr on r on'rrur r inq ted model of his orvn home, when a fere days' ride from his Nerv Zealand range he would have met a interesting and paradoxical people in real 1if€, Maoris. There is a recent variation on the same idea. Journey to the Land. ol the Articales (1928) AndrC tois describes the imaginary island of Maiana in tbe I PaLifi,. shi'rr i, inl'abi,ed by L$o LliIIerenr ,o, irl l0. The superior group is the Artico]es, rvhose life is y given up to artistic experience, painring, and carv 0nd composing music, and writing. They possess no arro\{',
.
161,
E DISTORTINC MTRROR money, and are suppoted by the rich Beos (short lot Boeotians, i.e. duJlards), who carry our all the non-arlisll work of the country. The chief-problen in the lives ot llt{ 1'H
I
li
i i
'
Arricoles is tl)at their existence is too comforhble and lo0 tirniied to provid€ them rvith much marerial for art.'Ihh particularly perplexes the wite$. Some of them, hor,r'cvcl'l solve it by introspection. The greatesl recent success ol Maianan Iiterature $as the confession of an Articole callc(l Rontchko, running to sixteen thousand nine hundrtd pages, and entitled ltfry I Cannot Write . The oDly admittedly unrealistic poriion of thaL nrxr, velous little book, Cdndidd, is a visit to the imaginary Jrrtrl of Etdorado. The most farnous of all such voyigcs It fttomur Morc's Lltapia (1516). Aithough its ione is clllln and resamined, the sharp contrast rvhich its sweetly rati(rllll description of Utopian life makes to the irrational conrll tion of contempomry Europe probably €ntitles it to ll0 styled a mild satire: More himself said it was intendcd l0 be bolh amusing and benefrcial.r Certainly fie funniirt travel sarire ever rvritren is the lourth and fifth bool(t of Rabelais' Pdntagruel, the long voyage parodying tlrt quesr;f ilie Holy Grait, in rvhich the gigantic prince irxl his courtiers sail to 6nd the Oracle oI lhe Holy tsortlc, rrr(l touch, en route, at all sorts of satirical islands $'hich rlrl, blematize the weaknesses and follies o{ this world. O,r of them is called Medamothy, lvhich meads, jusl as ljtol)li docs. No$'here.3
Sofretimes, ajj-ain, the traveler makes his n'ay quite ('rrl,
side this earthly realm to a region inhabited by beirr8l who are inhuman, or superhuman, or else pcoPle(l hy human creatures on a diferent plane of existence. It is orrr{ of the oldest of our dreams, the flight through space ]llrl the visit to another world. rvanifestly fie descriPtiorr lf such a journcy need nor be satiric in purpose. It may ln, ,
162.
rEE DISTORTlNC MIRROR lc, as in Odysseus' interrierv rvith the ghosrs of his comrades. Ia may be mystical, as in Danre's asc€nt of nt Purgatory and flight through the spheres. lt may iful, like Wellr's First Men in the Moon and, the merable 'tpace lictions" which are now pouring ort newly tapped reservoir of the subconscious." I! may be , like Dionysus' descenl to hell in Aristophanes' F ogt lhe flight oI Trygaeus ro heaven on a dung beede in tgPhanes' Pda6d. But r,hen it in\,olves criticisnr of life world, wirh exposure$ of human vices and weakand bitter or teasing humor, then it is satire. The ont Menipprs of Gadara (following Arisrophanes) oI his visit to th€ world of rhe dead, wherc he conthe wise soothsayer Tiresias about rhe besr $'ay to and got ahe same advice which, t o rhousand years was given to Candide: to shun public affairs, and Ei, €€oeqr, "make the best of his lot."10 There, roo, w how easily death stips rhe dch and powerful of rheir th and their dignity, how frail ard trivial are the ls of this lif€, r,hich 1{'c srruBgle so hard ro ger and The same Mcnippus flew up to thc sky in order to lhe philosophers' theories about asrroDomy; and $(]nce looked d"r'n on rrrc cJrh. .ei ing rlrc pfr in..\ .rnLl Uoion of human life, the folly of the humar pmyers ascend conshntly like smoke ro heaven.l1 These themes recur often in the work of saririsrs, and even, es, in pore august types of litemrure. In Ariosrot ,,er oI -Roland there is a delighrlul flighl ro rhe moon, the chevalier Astolto finds rhe rvits lost by hapless lcs of this world, together $'ith a vast deal of deceirs magics and trumperies. On lhis modcl Milton inserred FatuAise Lost a short sati c descdprion oI rhe dumpoI vanities, on the outer rim of our universe, whither 0rc blorvn by the $ind.
.163
T E DISTOR'f lNG MlRROR Then mieht l€ see Cowls, hoods, and habits, aith thetu 1\'€arers, tossed r\nd Iluttered into mgsi then reliqucs, beads, Indulgences, dispens€s, pardoni bullr, Th€ sport of winds: all thes€, ttpwhiri€d aloft, r]y o'er the backside of the World lar ofi lnto a Limbo large and broad, since €alled The Paradise of Fools.l'? some of the more successfol satiric pieces by Menipptttt't admirer Lucian describe, in diaiogue form, visits to arrd conve$ations in the unden'orld and Lhe home of llld Olympian deities: Menippus himself and other Cynics irl,' pear as characters in them, laughing philosoPhe$ rvho lr0 the very incarnations of satirc.ls An imaginative writ€r ntay dcscribe a visit to an exlrt. terrestdal region either as a jolrrney or as a vision. I ll! diflerence bet een the two is often a matter of emphlliil, Dante, $'ho is so car€ful to remind us that he tetainerl |lr own physical body (sufiering pain and Pleasure, and cv(rll to rhe astonishmeDt of dre souls of ahe dead, castiull ll shadow), and who d€scribes rvith vivid detail the modcs ol movcmenr lr:hich take him from onc srage to anoth€r o1 llll journey, is nor a visionary but a voyager. Rabelais, lttttr. ever. sends one of his characte$ to the world of denih irxl brings him back with miraculous ease and rapidity. Perlrlr he had ar the back of his mind the magnificent revelali{rtl of the '$'orld ot eterniry Uhich (according to Plato i lll Republic) ,,ras vouchsafed to the Armenian l{'arrid lll while he lay apparently a corpse and yet not rtholly dcrrrl, If so, as he did rtirh nearty all his models, he parodi(l ll and made ir satirical. Prince Pantagruel's squire Epistcrrr, rtt (whose name means Kno{'ledgeable) rvas killed in lh$ bartle rvirh the giants: his head was srnittcn ofii bis s,,rrl left his body and moved among the dead. But Parrrrrl{tr stitched his head back on again, dusting it widr po$'(lrt of diamerdis, nnd restored him to life. Epiltemon rlr(tt
. 164.
7HE DISTORTING MIRROE what he had seen. It was a complete inverslon fates and fortunes of this orld-and thereby beits ancestry in the satires of lhe Cynic Menippus. was a monarch with a robe and a scepter, while rhe Grea( was a mender otoldclorhe': tpi(rerus beggarly Stoic was now a rich gentleman with Poor afld women, while Cyrus the conqueror cadged farfrom him; a famous Pope had become a pie'peddler, lhe Knights of the Round Table were bumboat-men, g the d€vits back and forward on the iver of Styx.l' tween a mystical journey and a mystical vision ihe importanr difl€rence is thaa, in a journet, the stag€s dcscribed in some derail, and the author tries to make se€m real, while the vfuionary either is transported milacle to and hom the scene of his vision, or else,
rapture, sees it all 'lvith the inward eye. 's visit to Hades was th€refor€ a vision, seen by tpirit while his body lay cataleptic. Satirical visions of hereafter are not common in Christial literature, for reason\, but rhe Greek and Roman pagans were lqueamish about making fun of eschatology. One of most britljanl and scandalous, bu( efiecrive. visionary in Latin is rhe lPoroloc)nlorrr of Seneca. eccentric Emperor Claudius, partly crippled by I palsy and even more emotionally disturbed than majority of his disastrous family, alter reigning for ttcen years, lvas poisoned by his wife Agrippina in a lored dish of mushrooms. Quickly, before any scandal spread or any disorder adse, Agrippina's young son was proclaimed Emperor. C)audius $a5 Eiven a ilicent state funeral, at rvhich N€ro read a solemn of his adoptive farher's virtues and achievements for him by Seneca: it rvas listened to at Iirst in silence and then ith roa$ oI in€sisrible laugh-
I ,pidtual
,165.
,f
HE DISTORTINE MIRROF
ter. Next, Claudius was declared to be a god and gjlur I place in heaven beside Augustus and Romulus, with l(rlt, ples, and alta$, and priests, and sacrifices, and holy festivnlt, oo eafth below. Claudius, who had be€n made Empcrut half in jes! by ihe bodyguard of his murdered predecesrrtr, '!vho had govern€d through a collection of his ex-shvcl (Greeks, and Orientals, and what not), whose wife Mc$$[' lina had publicly married another man, and who, aftcf signing the order for her execution, had folgorten all about it by dinner-time, Claudius who could scarcely walk with' out toltering and speak without slobbering-a godl It $'{t an important moment when he rvas deified. Julius Cac$lf with his baieful bdlliance had something supernatural hl him, like Alexander. Augustus was the Savior who lutd broughl peace to the rvar-maddened ivorld. Th€s€ rnot could well be accepted as deiti€s, and revered, and wi,l' shipped. But $'hen Claudius was deified, everyone fetr lt was a diculous and almost blasphemous convention, flll the court knew it was a diabolical stratagem. The philo.opher qene,a. Ncro\ ruro'. $rore a sJrirc,'[ the deincation of Claudius. It begins as a parody of histoly (b€cause the truth about Claudi$ was too ddiculorrs t write down as facL), and then becomes a vision of he;rvdt and hell inspired ultimately by Menippus. It tells hr)w Claudius, aftcr being only half alive for many years, flnxlly expired. He went to heaven and demanded admittanc , The gods discussed his claim to divinity, and some of lhi old-fashioned eccentric oncs moved to accept him; bur hh own ancestor Augustus, speaking for the first time in llrnt august assenrbly, denounced him as a bad man and t evil ruler. Claudius was rejected, and iaken down to hrll, rvherc he $'as finally handed as a slave to his crazy prede.rr sor CaJigula. Such is Seneca's satire, |he Apocoloqnto\i! tt It is so cruel and mean and personal, the lpocolocyntotit, rhar ir would be a lampoon. it ir did nol contain a <eri"rrr
.166.
,f
EE DISTO RT 1N C MIRROR judgment. It is basically a farcical desciption of ius trying to reach heaven and being sent to hell; y all of it is funny; it is full of jokes, puns, parodies, , and epigmms; but it contains a serious waming udius's successot Ner:o himself, in rhe form ofa speech ugustus, th€ founder of th€ Empire. (Nero did not the warning, and ended more m;erablv. even more sly, ihan Claudius.) Because Seneca was a clever and a skillful teacher, it is a britliant and insrructive . Because he was a moral rveakling, it is a disgusting of brutality and flaftery. Bur it is an important hisdocument. It is the first exLanr book to say openly the Roman emperors lv€re human, and less tha[ , and far from godlike-and rhereby to impugn the Ie system of monarchy founded by Julius Caesar. 's vision of the shambling stammering Emperor tryVainly to get into heavcn prepares lor the skrn refusal e Christians to sacrifice ro the false god on the imperial
afte !'ard, in A.D. q6r, vhen lhe Chdstians
were
y conquedng rhe Empire, al1orher sarire on the same
was composed. In a vision of heaven called Tfte ng.Part\-also inspired by Menippus and atso wrirfor the Satumatia-the last pagan Emperor, Jutirn Apostate, describ€d his imperial predecesso$ as being ted to attend a banquer of the gods in heav€n, and by one gaining accephnce or suffedng contumelious ion. lr ic rmu,ing in Scnc,a ro \Jrclr lhe efforls of dius to l!'in his divine cirizenship; it is s.ill more g in Julian to see tire long procession of Augusti cnling themselves and $'aiting for the verdict of fie ians upon their godability. Julian's portmirs are unconventional, often cruel. He knows well that a ncipal purpose of satire is destrrrcrive criticism. There-
at the end he introduces noa only his uncle Constan.
167.
THE DISTORTING MIRROR tine, the firsr Christian Emperor, bu! his orvn Galilean enemy, Jesus of Nazarerh, He makes Constantin€ adopt soft Luxury as h; orvn parron.divinity, because Julian himself rvas a severe Stoic who (like Nietzsche in a later age) despised Christianity as a meek mild milksop creed. And he e\,en twists the summons o[ J€sus, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I Nill give you rest" (Marthew r r.2 8), and the rite of baptism, into "Whoever is a seducer, rvhoever is a murderer, lehoever is pol' luled and loathsome, lel him be ol good cheer and come. For I shall immediately make hiin clean by vashing him rrifi this water; and iI again h€ falls into the sam€ sins, I shall give him dre power to become ciean again by beating his breast and banging his head." With its bitterness, its ruthless ene€y of alhck, and its pungent salty lvit, Julian's Drinhing-Partj is in the true lradition of Greek and RomaD
The most illustrious of Spanish satirists, excluding Cervantes, is Francisco G6mez de Quevedo y \rillegas (r58o 1645). He has lefr a group of prose l/irionr hich are all
of the
same type: revelations of the proud shams and disguised vices of this rvorld, laid bare as at Lhe last judgment,
cauterized ith acid \'\'it. The style is hard, brisk, often brutal, olten too coarse to suit the tender sensibilities of quev€do's contemporaries. scorched $,ith frery hlrmor and
The mosr peculiar feature of his ,/irionr is one ('hich reculs in Rabelais' undenvorld chapter and inother such fantasies oI this kind. It is that, althougl he is dealing with an essentially Christian theme-the judgm€nt of God between good and evil, the r€velation of all tha! in this rvorld was hidden, and the penalties of the condemned he does not mention the Chrislian deity. The divinity l'ho presides over dre last judgment is called Jupiter and shorvn as naked, "clothed in himself.'!? Q evedo does mention angels and 6ends, the Ten Commandments, the aposdes and the sainrs, .
168.
THE DISTORTING MIRROR and certain institutions of the church (for instance, the monastic oders); and he makes great play with the Accuser, th€ devil himself. But, as God is not introduced, so Jesus is not mentioned as rhe Saviour and Redeemer oI mankind. In the same way as iL is difficult for a devou. Christian to wlite a tragedy, so it is almost impossible for a devout Christian to compose a Christian satire dealing 'r{ith death
and the judgment and the n€xt world. Therefore both Quevedo and Rabelais transfer the theme oI judgment and punishment back beyond Christianiry to fte milieu in which ir first erLered Western thought: the ancient Greek iral belie[s.alled Orplrism, uhirlr arc be\r known ro us from the eschatological visions of Plato; and they both paint those visions rvith the vivid satirical colors of the Cynic Menippus. quevedo's book of f/irionr begins rvith an explicit allusion to Dante's Comedy, and the largest of rhem is a sort of parody of Dante's HeJl; but evefl there we meer something hich only a very unorthodox Christian ould have even dreamed of rvriting. In the plac€ of punishment, Qucvcdo sees Judas Iscariot. Dante, seeing Judas, did nor speak to him and could not.1€ But Quevedo speal$ to him. He reproaches him. Judas does not accept the reproach. He replies, "No, no, there have been many 0ince the death of my Master, and there are today, ten thousand times more wicked and ungrateful than I. They buy the Lord of Life, as rvell as selling him."10 This is causlic and liercing \arire: but it u ill nor nr into Chrisrian thoughr. and i*e re" wtry Lhe saririsr was forced to harl back to the old pagan philosophical iesler for his chief
There are interesting variants on the satidcal voyage to unkno\'ln world. One is the visir of extra terrestrial beings to this planet. In rgbQ the cartoonist Alan Dunn
.169.
THE DlSTARTINC MIRROR produced a book of defr pictoriel satire on this theme. It shows a team of Martians endeavoring to solve the question
Is There
Lile on Earth?
(Soon after landing, they visir the ner{ Cuggenheim N{useum of Modem Art InteLLigent
in New York, lvhich interestr and alarms them. Its sLruc' ture reminds them of the planel Kokeye, and they speculate, "Ir might even be the Kokeyed Legation, and indicate that they had gorten here before us.") On the same topic Voltaire, perhaps inspired by culliver in Lilliput, r'rote a charming little satiric tale called, Mictamega: (\jb2).In this, an enormous inhabitant of a planet attached to Sirius, after being exiled for heresy, visited Saturn, and th€n dropped of on our rnorld, where he discussed the same question with a Saturnian (modeled on the intelligent Fontenell€). The Satumian reached a conclusion in the negativei "This globe is so badly construcled, it is so irregular, and so absurdly shaped. Everything is chaotic. Look at th$e little streams, not one going straight; th€se pools, neither round nor square nor oval, nor symmet cal in any l'ay; all these little pointed dots lhe meant hat we call mountains]. And see how flat this sphere is at the poles, and hoiy awklvardly it turns round.the sun, so that the polar areas must be deserts. I think there is no life on earth, be, cause I don't believe any inlellig€nt people would ever consent to make their home here,",o However, Micromegas happened ro drop the diamond necklace he tvas l'readng. The Saturnian picked up one of the diamonds and found fiat it magnified like a lens. Wi& ils help.he two visitors salv a living organism in the water-which proved to be a whale-and then something a little bigger, a ship fLrll of scientists just back from exploring the Arctic Cilcle. What amused Micromegas most was to see these misemble micro, scopic animalcuiae talking and movilg and engaging in corporat€ enterp ses, just as though they were real. ' 170.
TIIE DISTORTING MIRP.OR Aflother variant of the sariric nanative is lhe voyage into dre future. Mosr such visions are naively optimistic, such as EdUard Bellarl.'y's l-oohing Bachudrd.2ooo.r897 (r8BB), or grirnly pessimistic, such as H. c. Wells's ?ia?.e Machine OBg ajJd When the Steeper Wahes OAsq, rcvised and reis\ued in rqo6 a. flr \tp.pct Auah?,/.1hese ir is dimculr ro der ribn r, *rirer..in.F LhFy usua y irou\e neither laughter nor. contempt nor disgust, but nerely wonder or hor:ror. Yer rhere are some episodes of satire in
Ior insLance, rhe awakened Sleeper finds that newspape$ have been reptaced by loud+peakirs which \oeam oll sen,arional news Lile rhis: a few oI these fantasies.
"Yahch-r. \"hdh, yJpt HFJr a liv- pJ|er )etpt Li\e pJper. Yah/: Sho,ling ourr:.ec in Idri'. Yjhahahl The pJriri,rns e).d'perJreLl bt rhp bliLk poli.p,o Lhe pir,h ot a((acsinrr;on. Dre.JIul rFprnrlq.5,vag. rime,,ome aga;n. Btoodr Btoodt Yrhr l
In our generarion, Lhe mosr famous vision oI the future in English) isrGtorge Onvellt Nin9.!9,c., 4;ehtyFour_Published in 1949, it sounded grim enough rhen. (ar least
Now, only truelve years larer, it sounds even grimmer. It is a story of the spiritual birth and death of an Engtishman cailed Winston Smith. (Born in rq45, he $,as narura y christened alrer Churchill.) By rq84, rhe world has been divided into three superstaFs, Oceania, Eurasia, and [astasia. Brird;n_lr.rs be,omF d pro,in,e ot O,erni? ralled Air. ltrip One.'l he rhree powcrc dre permanenrl) dr war. although somerimes, to gain an advanragc, one will make a temporary "alliance" or even "peace" .lvith anoLher. Oceania is governed by a single roralitarian party. parrly through the injuries of lvar, and partty because of the enormous l.,rasre of enegy and marerial which the party encourages in order ao keep its porver, Brirain has become an impoverished, grim, and hopetess lnnd, ruled by an .
171.
"
G MIRROR jarchy more exclusive, more ruthless, and oniy tech oLgically more emcient than medieval feudalism wins[on SmiLh att€mpts, although he is dmember of the "Outer Party," to assert his intellectual and emotional independAEE DI SIO
F.'I IN
enc€, He is lvaLched, and arrested, and tortured undl (like the victim of Koestler's DarA??d$ a, Nootx) he abandons all the convic.ions which had made him a litlle more hoPe-
fully human than the orhels. In all this the reader can feel little or nothing of the biater amusement and free-moving contemPt which true satire shoulat insPire. It is a tragic siory. Yet many of the incialental aniitheses and paradoxes are magnilicently satir-
ical. For instance, the terrible $'indorvless forr, heavily guarded and filled &'i$ scientific instrumehrs of torture where Winston Smith is converred into a self confessed traitor and a so:eaminS imbecile, is omcially called the Ministry of Love, The building I'here (before his arrest) he works, altedng the records of the past-even yesterdayt ne&'spaper-to suit party policy and intrusive facts, is the Miniitry of Truth. After sufficient Minilove Pe$uasion has been applied to him, he admits that Trvo and Trvo Mike Five (Galileo, after being brairwashed by the Holy Inquisition, is saial to have relmcled his suggestion that rhe earLh goes round lhe sun; but, as he rose from his knees, to have murmured "E plrr si muove." "Yel it does move," he said; but winston Smith dare not even think so; cannot even think so.) The p€rsonification of totalitarian personal power, rvhose face slares out from every rvall, and whose subordinaLe eyes \{atch everyone in Public and in Pdvate through telescreens, is called Big Brothet The intellectuals of rg84 are developing a fresh language, designed to .limin;h the range of human thought lt is called Newspeak. The logic of rhe single totalitariar party, by which
THE DISTORTING MIRRO& {act can simulhn€ously be true and be unrrue, is Double,
For ei,eryone, except perhaps the student of satire, it is ting to think that even Orwellt terrible vision of rhe ture is obsolele. He r{rot€ of Airstrips and Floadng Forts and the occasional rocket bomb. Since his tim€ airips have become-because of technological advanceslmost outmoded; and mosr of the surface of the globe may rendered uninhabitable, if scientifrc progress continues ils present mre. This prorpect too has been described in a saairical vision the furure. Ald?q Huleyt-l?g qnd. Es;ence (t948) €s us forward live generations, to rhe year 2ro8. An tion frcm Nelv Zealand. which roas nor fldio-a.iited, is visiting the North Am€rican continent, which {as. The descendants of the survivors, they find, have r€, rrted to savagery-or rather to a savage parody of whar once civilized mores. Two of the most powerful uman instincas, religious arve and the sexual urge, have course survived, and (like the human beings who carry ) produced new and hideous mutations. Degraded as ir manifestations are, however, they are scarc€ly worse the social life of several nations rvhich have existed the not-so-disLant pasr: so rhar Ape and Essence is an ive satire, not so much on rhe lurure o{ war-befuddled iry, as upon what Mr. Huxley considen an unholy uality, religion and sex. It is always difEcult for a visionary idst to knof horv to present his vision. Celvanres, unppily, bungled it by saying that Don Quixote lived Cvelal centuries earlier, and that he was translating his phy from an ancient Arabic manuscipt. Mr. Huxley not make his sarire more convincing by couching ir the form of a motion-picture script. The format, the atmosphere of such a thing inhibit the sensitive reader believing, even for a momenr, what he reads. Even
THE DIATORT'1NC MlRROR a satirical fantasy should be, r'hile it is being
read,
convincing. Peace has its horrors, no less debased than war. One modern voyage into a peaceful future world is a satire so biilliant and so bitter that it is almost the GrUirrr of our rimcIn Aldous Huxley's Brar_i Neu World (r932), a young man who combines sbme of the srengths oI our past and our Fesent (being spiilually part Amerindian and paft Shake. sPealean) is tmnsported from a time capsule (in th€ form of a savage reservation) inro the "progressive" future which has all the advantage. to$rrd tvhi,lr se are striring: st.r. bility, peace, machines to do all the hard lvork and condi tioned human and subhuman beings to do mosr of the easy work, an emancipated sex life, perfect birth control, handy but harmless drugs, frequeDt o€ies oI togetherness, i{isc control from above, and nothing disquieting such as education or creationor ex?eriment in litemture, art, philosophy, or pure science. It sounds almost perfecr, although at prcs, eflt six hundred years ahead, in the Year of Our Ford 612. Many an idealistic "social engineer" of .he type oI Bernard Sharv and Sidney Webb, after imbibing his gtass o[ &'arm milk and ingesting his energy tablets, used ro go to bed and dream about ir; and rhe beaury of Huxley's satire is ro show that, for a human being, it rvould be absolutely unendurable. Vladimir Mayakovsky, an idealist vho bcgan by hymn, ing the Russian revolution, ended by satirizing it (and incidentally the Russian character) in a pungent extmvagar'za called. T he Bedbug ( r 929). A rough tough workman is by an accident presened in ic€ (like Wells's caralepri(: Sleeper) until i9i9. R€vived then, he finds himself n stranget a fossil, a coelacanth. All voring is done bygiganri(: machines, and all discussion carried on by huge loudspeakers. Artificial trees b€ar real fruit, changed daity. Everything is hygienic and orderly. The survivor from rhc
THD DISTORAINE MIRROR ld world carries microbes with him, and intects the new ld rvith ancienr maladies long lorgofteD: the men wirh liking for beer, rhe girl! wirh a fancy for dancing and ing. Bur ar the end, he is safety caged, atone rvith fu sympathetic fellow,survivor, an old Russian bedbug the warm untidy disorganized past.
Of cou$e not all fanrastic books oI travel can be called res. Many dreame$ have journeyed far and high in
ir drerms acro* lhe ei,rh inro unknorn ty thousand
regions,
leagues under the sea, out inro the inivable disr rn,es ol inrergala{riL .pr,e. PJ5(at wJs in
minoriry \hen he
5Jid I he erernal ,ilen, e o[ rhe:e ite spaces terrifies me." Some dreamers simply want to play human coumge and exptore human imaginarion, to hare maNelous adventures rvithour anv criticel e to rhe lrorld rvbich, in real tife, they inhabit. ch adventures are nor sari cal. lvhen Sindbad the Sailor d of his explorations and his shipwrecks, he enjoyed ling them and his guesrs enjoyed hearing them, for e sakc of mere onder. The adventures of Baron Munseem to us to be rhapsodies, conjudng rricks, prre tasies, flights inro the manifesrly incredible, like rhe 'tall stories" rold by rhe firsr explorers ol rhe American fest. Their chief author, Rudotph Raspe, (,as a tiar and crook; but the soldier of fortune whose name he atrached his imagirdngs rvirs a real man, Hieronymus Karl ich, Freiherr von Munchausen, 1\'ho lrad long enoyed the harmless pasrime of telting whoppers rvith a haight face.?1 Conceivably, rherefore, the Singular Ad, tures of the Baron rt'ere meant both ao satidze rhat nial typc, rhe Boasrflrl Sotdier, and to ridicule the au.rihlc, re.luliry ot m.rnl,inJ. In r\e qdve i\Frnenr the sccond edition, Raspe added a,'cerrificare, sr',om .175.
TEE DlSTORTING MlRROR at the Mansion House" of London, r'ith amdavits l)y Gulliver, Sinfd]bad, and Aladdin, to witness of his truth, It is a fair division. Two-thirds of Munchausen's adventurc$ are mere lantasy; the other third, perhaps, are satirical. BLrt we, reading them
no
adays,
think oI them purely
as
drern)s.
The same applies to Lewis Carrollt books about Ali(, From a.hild s poinr of \ieh rl,ey are of'en.drire'. ' Iiri, i/ing the absurd conventions by which grown up people ru" their rvorldj there are some touches of adult satire in ther)r too, ridiculing larv and authority and mechanical systern and eccentric power holders Guch as th€ King and dr' Duchess). Most of us read them,
as w€ listen
ho
ever, in the same spiril
to cheerful young music, such as
Debussyr
Ch;Id.ren'.. Cotncr.
And what of th€ most influential ot all travel fantasics, Lrcian's True Hislary? It has long been the mosL popul;rr of all Lucian's works, and has sparvned a lirely brood (,1 impossible voyages-for instance, Rabelais' personal tril) dolvn Pan.agrueh throat, visiting Gulletville and tlrc ciri($ of Larynx and Pharynx.l'Like Munchdusen, il is a shing ol arnnt impossibilities, which its.author scarcely even tri(\ to make credible. Nearly all the True History is pure ftr
oI bitterness; it makes r feel no conrempt; it is a Disney dream. If so, is there ar)y. thing in it thar can be called satiric? The title itseu inr
It
leaves scarc€ly any afterlasLe
plies some criticism. This book, obviously a pack of lies, is "$ue"; all other tales of travel and explomlion are thcrr' fore false. And there is in it an amusing touch of sarirl,
aim€d at another targeL: the reading public. Lucian il kidding his readers, by $'dting rubbish and then barr' boozling them into reading it. This particular trick is l favoite oI Rabelais: he rvill go on and on, lisrirg hundlc(l$ of games or hundreds of absurd book titles, column afl.r column, just to se€ how long dre suckers lvill go on readirt ' 176.
TED DISTORTING MIRROR lt rh;' is sar ire, jl js a uniquc kind ol .drire: tor r hF is himself iLr vi.rim ANITIAL TALES Satiric voyages and visions produce their efiect by conting this world of ours with another, disrant in rime gpace and difierenr in quality. The orhcl main rype of ic narrative and drama depends on shorving a ludi, ?r
or debased picture of ahis world.
One rvay to do this is to depict men and women as als, or rather as non,human animals. Beast stor:ies in elves are nor necessarily satilic. Some tales about als, although they shorv animals ralking and exchangideas and doing other human things, are nor about ple but about animals: they are artemprs to explain rhe vior of beasts, using human standards of iudgment. nhappy attempr. One of $e main efforts of modern ists is to explain $'hy animals do nor behave likc ple, blr lile md, hinec \!irh builr in biochcmical (on.) Olher animal stories are only externally about anils. Their chancters are human beings disguised in skins. In them, animals do things rvhich are jusr a like normal animal behavior, but are really lessons human beinBr. Tl,e' ar. pro\erb\ made vi.ible and emorable in what was (as lve can see ftom the cave paint, Io) mrn) nrillennid rh( mo.r \i\rd and trmitia, torm to mankind. Such rales are not often funny, selalom tical, usually gently smiling and rvisely warning. A1gh, like the proverb which rhey embody, rhey may bepart oI a saaire, rhey are not usually sariric rhem, "Go ro the ant, rhou sluggard," says the Book of bs in its minatory rone, "consider tler i{ays, and wise." Robert BeDchley oncc did rhis. He said he tched an ant atl rhrough a long summer afternoon, con_ ering ber ways; and all that he learned $'as thar, i{ he
.177.
THE DISTORTINC MlRROR carried too large a crumb on his head, he would walk sideways.
Ho cver, a ferv of the huge collecdon of animal fables are sharp enough and sour enough to be defined as satires; and lrom the Middle Ages we have one of lhe gr€ar sarires of the l\'orld, in the form of a biography of one of rhe cleverest of all animals, Reyrard the lox..'This is vcry
.
neally a satiric epic. II the eighleerrh,cenrury critics had not been so shorrsightedly devoEd to Lhe Greek and Roman classics, they should have cited rhis, ir discussions of the conneciior bet('een cpic andsatire, epic and comedy, mther drar rhe virtually non-exisLenr ,\tdrgit€r. It mirrors the Uorld of rhe N{iddle Ag€s, taur, nallow, pymmidat, authoritarian, and unintelligenr. On top sirs His Majesty King Noble the L,ion. Next come his barons, Bruin the Bear, Iscngrim the Wolf, Tybert rhe Cat; and then one of his most eneBetic and producrive subjects, Chanricle€r the Cock. Over against lhem all sands Reynard rhe Fox. They are society; he is anti social. They are rich and po$,erful; he is clever. They arc orrhodox and gullible and polite; he is unorthodox and ilrentive and rude. In any society (except during short revolutionary periods) it has always been dilicul. for a poor or isolated man to find whar Napoleor called "a career open to the ralents." In the NIiddle Ages i! rvas exceprionally diffrculL unless rhrough the church, which entailed many sacrilices, or thrcugh the profession of rl'ar, lvhich entailed oth€r abnegarions and grearcr risks. Reynard the Fox tlrinks rhe enlire sysrem is absurd, and so he lives the life of an acrive satirist, exposing ir and sho ing its lotly. Once, after t1{enry glasses of 1vine, he sings out $'hat he really believes: Ev€r since
I
l'as born, I've felt biller scorn l'or wortlry respectablc p€opte; .
178.
Reynard rhe
[ox
honored
b] King Lion
THE DIS7ORTINC MIRROR so with merry heaft sing Herc's a fi8 lor the King;
Nought care
I
tor law, crown, or
stecple.
'Tis my honest belief An industrious thief Is a blessing to all good society; To the humdrumming round, Wherein most m€n are bound, He furnishes pleasant variety.'" Plato maale Socrates say that the greatest trigic Poel should also be the greatest comic poet. Certainly if yor want to understand any age, you oughr to read not only ils heroic and philosophical books but its comic and satirical books; and so, after reading such a noble chivalrous medieval work as Malory's Morte Darthut,I try al$'ays to sPend an hour or two n'ith its satiric counterParl rRernard the Fo\.
Not a clever fox, but a stupid donkey, is the hero of another animal tale llhich was Populrr enough in its rime: The Foals' trlirror, in Latin lerse, lvritten shortly before A.D.-i18b b)' Nigel, a monk of Canlerbury. Chaucer knelv it as the book of "Daun Burnel the Asse."'" Il is an exPan' sion of a simple little animal fable into a long, rambling, illproportioned story rvith rnore talk than action and more serious homilies than satiric adventur€s. In some four thousand lines of Ovidian elegiac couPleLs (useful for epigrammatic uit bul inapproPriate for qFridrr{ or saliri' narrative poetry) it lells hol\' lhe donkey Burnellus or Brosn;e ried ro ge. a rail lunt enough ro mar, h hi' ears. but instead losl half his ta;l and both his ears and l{as recaptured by the masLer from r'hom he had escaped This (Nigel tels us in his preface) symbolizes the overtbrolv of iu-judged ambition among churchmen Crudc as this is, it would have been more effective if Nigel had kePt it short and clear. But he confused it. He made the donkey behave sometimes like ar animal, thinking about his ears and tail,
THE DTSTORTING MIRROR and sometimes like a man, enrolling in the uliversity o[ Paris and aspiring to become a bishop or a cardinal.
TEE DISTORIINE MlRROR 0even books of elegiac couplets telling how the I'olf ,c, the monk) was deceived by the fox. Irs arthor, Nivard Ghent, who rvrote abour A.D. tt5o, was a comPetent
Burnellus is so asinine that, afler seven years in Paris, hc can only say Hee-haw, and cannot rcmember the name o[ the city becftuse a traveling companion confused him by saying a PAtemosLer; but he utrers long and superficially intelligent monologltes, criticizing wicked greedy monarchs and lewd hireling bishops, comparing the merirs of .he various religioris orders and inventing a new one o[ his own. Nigel wrecks rhe corrinuiry of the story, aheady distorted to admit these improbable homilies, by squeczing in other animal fables and allegorical rales; and he finishes rvith a dispuae bet$'€en the donkey's owner and a rich man of Cremona, neither of $'hom has entered the story before. Ia would, perhaps, be too flattering ro suggesr that Nigel wished to make his story resembl€ its hero, and end wirh an amputated tail; but perhaps he did divine rhe o ginal meaning of sarire, a horch-pokh, and tried to rvrite a srory full of the heterogeneous and the unpredichble. The FooLs' Mirror is only one of a group of medieval Latin poems abour animals rvhich are mainly sariric in inlention. The earliest is ?ie Prironer's Exit (Ecbasis Cap, th)i, a tuthet affected title half creek and hall Larin), rvrirten by a monk of Loraine about A.D. q4o. It tells how a calf escaped lrom its srall and was almosL eaaen by ahe rvolf: the moral for young monks is "Fret not ar your cloistcr's narrorv room." Its author was a good Latinist, widely read. He must have known Florace prefty well by heart, for he took over one,fiflh of his lines from Horace. (See how satirical material is handed on, The fable of lhc sick lion ho could not penuade the fox to visit him inside his cave, told by Aesop, rerold by Lucilius, and summarized by Horace, is here expanded and told oncc more, th; time by the rvolf.) One of fie best and most popular of all is ysengrim, a satire againsr monasticism
uleius, written, in eleven books of astoundingly comand versalile Latin prose, about A.D. r8o."s The hero, begins as a nalvely intelligent and romantically senal young Greek and ends as Apuleius himself, visits hessaly, traditionally a greaa center of magical pmctices, adventurous modern investigators visit Haiti to study . He ties to change himself into a bird, but uses wrong fonnula and becomes a donkey. His mistress accomplice kno s the cure: if he €ats fresh roses, he I become a man again. Before she can bring him the he is stolen by robbers, who load him with plunder drive him ro rheir r are. Thenceforward. fulJy human mind and emotions, but in voice and appeamnce an ass, he passes through increasingly dangerous and ling adventures, painful even for an animal, almost durable for a man-until, the night before being pelled to make a public exhibition of his sexual s rvi'lr a \omrn , riminal \ho. after rhi' degradais to join him in dearh, he escapes frorn prison, runs the s€a-shore, plunges into th€ pu lying $,aves, and a vision ol the goddess, the molher of all nature. She pities him. In a speech filled with intense beauLy transcendental nobility, she exPounds her love and power, welcomcs him as a devoree, and tells him that morning, instead of being humiliated and slain, he lreslr ro.es in tlre harrd ut orrr'ol her prie.t'. So find lll becomes human again: but nor dre silly youth he was. becomes a tmnquil, humble, self denying, sell-forgetserious, happy man.
.180.
.181.
sophisticared satirist."' Surely the strangest of aU the satirical books about ani' ls is the Metamorphordr of the North Alrican sophist
TI]E DISTORTlNC MIRROR
TEE DISTORTING M'RROR hideous ordeals, it is told to a ter lied maiden by a drunken hag in a banditi cave. There have becn many satires l'hich, llke ReJnad, Ye'
This extraordinary story is, firsr and foremosr, a tale of grorvth and education through suflering-r'hat rhe Ger, mans call, in an untranslatable wold' a Bildungsroman. Lucius moves Irom sensuality through besriality to puriryi from silliness ahrough asininity to wisdom; from irresponsible vagabondag€ tlrrough slavery and fioggings to the life of a pious pilgrim; from black magic through cdmes and orgies to a higher religion. (Apuleius himsell was seriously accused during his lifetime of pracricing magic, and genemtions later was srill believed by some oI his fellowAfricans to have been a \'\'izard.),3 Since it describes this process through a narative which is grotesque and impossible, often grossly comical and often disgusring, it is a satire. Some, rbough by no means all, of rhe advenr[res etperien,ed by rhe hero or told in lris hejring. are sariri. in purpo.e rnd in rone. Ihechietdiffirulriesinappraising the book are, 6$t, its superlatively elegarr style (we do nol expect a vioient and ridiculous story to be rold in prose more recherchd than lhat of Marcel Proust, and yet Apuleius is not parodying any Farticular school of wriring), and, second, the genuine charm and sweerness of its conclusion, and of a few Iamous episodes, notably .he tale of Cupid and Psyche. The explanation of the first is that plain prose, blunt and factual, would b€ bolh gross and unconvincing. Apuleius is fotlowing che most eminent of all conjurors, Ovid, r,rho makes incredible transformations credible by describing them i'irh eloquent imaginative detail and suave glace. His prose is as scented and as sinuous as a magical spell. Secondly, the loveliness of rhe Cupid and Psyche story and olher scenes is intended to enhance the cruel satiric contrast oI ideal and real, so.rl and Lody. vi'rue and ri,e, noLility and,rime. aspirarion and debasement, which is the basic theme of the book. That is $hy, a tale of ideally happy marriage attained
tended to be about animals, l{'hile they were really about 'people. The {o*rll\nhq14s of the frnal llnQk of Gu\iqet are cerllidy-Qo! horses. Ho$es are delightful creatures, iand from the pictorial point of view highly decomrive, bur their power of reasoning is even smaller than that of human beings, and their emotions are ildly disorderly. One of the sad things about the development of humanity is the fact which Dean Srlifr was trying to avoid: Lhat the ape, although it looks hideously like us, is the most intellilent of the lower mammals.'0 Once there lvas a l'orld like that descdbed in Gultiver's fourth Voyage lr'$'as dle old Stone Age, the Palaeolirhic. The Yahoos wete the Old Stone Men. They had not thoughr of capturing and taming the ho$e (they had only jusc invented the dog), but they did hunt the horse. They drove the poor Houyhnhnms over clifis in enormous stampedes, because they Nere cleverer and crueller, and then they ate the bodies. Outside the cave of SolutrC in Burgundy a Stone Age deposit of t€ns of thousands of hone'skeletons was found: the bones had been splir to extract the marrow. We may-as Dean Swift caricatured us and as scientisls have assured us-be nearly apes; but $'e are intelligent, and it is a grievous satiric distorrion to show us as inferior to other animals in that one t4lent. It is other qualities that we lack. Birt in fact neither the equine Houyhnhnms nor the simian Yahoos are animals. Both are types of human beings: the reasoning mirority and the ignorant multitude; or else two aspects of the human soul itself, with ils cool tranquil ,idealism and its lorv bestial imFulses. dor'rn,Dnn itself sounds like an esot€dc human language, the parlance oI philosophersj while every human being can saf Yahoo,
.182.
. 183,
THD DISTOR?1NG MIRROTI and some modern poets and shtesmen are even shouting ir to the accompaniment of drums. Penguin Island, published by Anatole France in rgo8, is an occasionally rvitty but usually sour and labored atlempt to satirize the history oI France from an extreme left-r'ing poinr of view. The French are caricarured as a special race of penguins, discovered by an early Christian missionary on an Arctic island, baprized into the Church through a regrettable enor, converted by a special act of divine grace into human beings, and by another miracle
tmnsporkd, isiand and all, to fte neighborhood of Brittany. Most oI us are unconvinced by this parallel between the sober, unifoimly dressed, and aust€re penguins and the tasteful, elegant, epicurean French-especially when $'e recall that most penguins are monogamous, and that in their society sexual deviations are virtually unknorvn. How ever, Anatole France chose penguins because he shared the conviction of many French inrellecruals that their fellorv-citizens are (although of course superior to orher Europeans) fundamentally betus. ln case, he virtually ^ny dropped the idea one quarter through his sarire, aparr from a ferv comic names like Greatauk and Porpoisia.sl Then he transfomred the book into a distorted burlesque oI French history, passing over the Renaissance and th€ age of Louis XIV in a Iew rapid pages,6ut devoting an entire book to a satirical ve$ion of the Dreyfus case, and ending rvith a bideous picture of the future 1{orld. His picture is a black variant of the apocalypse of Karl MaIx: a monstrous megalopolb inhabited by hordes oI debased rvorke$, dominated by a ferv decad€nt multimillionaires,al but-instead of being taken over by rhe victorious prcletarjat under rhc guidance ot the Communisr parryeventually d€stroyed by anarchists using an explosive based on mdio-acrivity. The implicarion of the lafter half of Penguin IsLand is that the history of France indeed, of .
184.
THE DISTORTING MlRROR the Wist-begau in supemrition and barbarism and I culminate in greed and burchery; and that the deion of Western civiiizarion by atomic bombs is the y possible solution to the problem of human obduracy, ness, and stupidity.ss This satire is, like Cttlltuels raleb, wholly negative, urterly pessimistic: ir belongs to e pow€rful tradition of the Cynics. As a work of arr, , it is far inferior to Gullfuer, because the biases ra[cors of its author distorted iis structure, making Irot one single book but three incompatible fantasies. Less than two genetaaions later, George Orwell, who watched, first with enthusiasm, then $'ith disappoinrr, and 6nal1y with horror, the building of a n€w social! society, Nrote a satire tpon it. Animal Farm (1945) is bir ter atr a( k. worr hy oL S!\ il r. on I h-eCom_-muii.r revol u-
in Russia and on irs berrayal by Sralin and rhe Comunist bureaucmcy. Although ir is ostensibly a story about dmals, we know that it is about types of people. Wher see pigs training dogs to guard them instead oI biting , when $re hear the talking raven telling &e {armcongregation about Sugar;andy Mountain in the sky, still more at the end, when we observe the pigs drinklng beer and playing cards with the human farmers of neighborhood, rve know that we are seeing an animated in which th€ spiritual distorrion of human beings imaged by their physical disguise as lower animals. This is a wholly negative satire. There is no hope, it says, the poor bsasts. The sheep ('ill ah'ays bleat and run crowds, the hens will always cackle and lay eggs and ve them stolen, the cattle will aluays do what they are , and thc horses will work undl they drop. Pigs and dogs wilt dominate. Although ,{nimal Falm was immedily inspired by the ris€ of Communisr state monopoly "the cult oI individualism associated r,r'irh J. V. Sralin" (as the Communist propagandists now describe a genera-
.185.
,f
EE DIS'TORTINC MIRROR
TEE DISTORfINC MIRROR Horvever, in another of Ar;tophanes' \ronderful satiric comedies (which has evoked delightfully apt music frcm the imagination oI Vaughan Williams), rve frnd a group of They are the Poor elderly unemployed tax-supporaed cilizens of Athens who frll the law-courts, serve on all the juries, and sink th€ir stings deeply into those public enemies, the rich. Not bees, who live to ga.her honey and help their community, but wasps, who are purely selfrsh and sting lvithout remorse, they harbor a special poison that prevents them and their vic" tims Irom living a wholesome happv lif€. Karel Capek, the Czech genius rrho wrole that famous vision of the mechanized future, B.a/.R., created in collaboradon with his brother Josef a satirical lnsect Comed,t (r9ro), $ith only one principal human character, a drunken tmmp. In a forest glade he lvatches, fir:st the courtship dances and intrigues oI the butterllies rvho image the life of rich, frivolous, htpersensitive men and women; then the struggles and squabbles of the dung-collecting beetles and the home-loving crickets and the muderous ichneumon flies who resemble the ruthless acquisitive bourgeois; and at last those pe ectly social insects, th€ anrs, working like machines and fighting like mass armies of human beings. In their notes on the play, the broLhers dapek call it a "travesry" and refer to The Battle ol Frogs and LIicc. lt is indeed a satire, but far more bitter and pessimistic Lhan the litlle Flomeric parody. One of th€ most touchirigly absurd figures in it is a Chrysalis, who throughout fivo acts proclaims the future, rrhen it ill at last become fuUy alive and reveal the secret of life to the world. Immediately afrer its metamorphosis, still exultant and pulsating, it drops down, a lirtle dead moth. An important component of all dmma, as Aristotle said, is the probable impossible.sa As the quotient of probability falls, the satirists work becomes more difficult. Therefore wasps who talk human language.
!{. rrlsrlrrdm by toy xi
"At1
but
equal than otl1ers."
don of odious tyranny), it is broad enough and cruelly realistic enough to apply to airy revolution $hich has ever been betrayed.
It is more diftcult to put human bcings disguised as animals onto the stage than to describe them in a nil-ra tive: therefore satiric dmmas in which animals behare likc human beings, and lice versa, are rather uncommon. Thc graceful and melodious non-human characters in AristoplL anes'Birdr arc not satirically drar.n. They are idealized creatures, ho live afar fiom the sphere oI our sorrow, in Cloudcuckooland. The satirical impact of the comedy lalls on the poor humxn beings and inemcient divinitier vho have so far mismanaged their orld as to make it necessary tor Llre Lird'. r'dc.t ol sarml ooJe.l tcn,ne,pcc;,,,.,. fould a new world-order, and create thc universai happi ness which neither men or gods havc beer able ro achieve. This satiric play therefore belongs to another catesort: the visit of human bcings !o a visionary $,orld, berrcr rhan .
186.
.
187.
THE DISTORTINC
]I1I R RO R
when Lugene lone,,co produced flr Rlinorrror, rvhore ua!ihar ihinumin popL,t,';on ol iiiiiir-iir?-rou n rvith one solitary exception $'as transformed into roaring, rampaging, thick'skinned, happily brutal rhinoc€roses, he was challenging one of the central problems of dmmatic satire. In spile of a rveak and farcical first acr and a disappointing conclusion, h€ solved it in one big scene. To see the quiet undemonstrative hero on the stag€, confronring one oI his friends rvho visibly swells out and alters his shape and changes his nature until he is one of the herd \yhose bellorvs and tmmplings can be heard ofi stage, him, sell €very moment less human than pachydermarous, this is to appreciate not only the experience of saaire, but the amused and tormented emotions of the satirist, Ionesco himsell has variously described his play as being a cririque of Nazification (vtrich he conceives as a pewersion of intellectualism), of totaliarian government, and of collective hysteria. It is all thai, and more. As he puts it, "Orce ideologies become idolalries, . . .hey dehumanize rheme
The Rhinoceros slro\'ted men becoming animals. One of
dle bitterest satirical piays eler: \\rritren shows men
rvho
rctain their hlrman shape, but in spirit are so close to being b€asts thar they bear the names and folloN the behaviorpatterns of cruel and Lreacherous animals. The hero of Ben J?n:9n-: I/o_Ipone (16{)?) is l.rell named l'ox. His pansitic attendant is Mosca, a fly; \rhile his legacy-hunring false friends are greedy rapto$:
V
lr
urc,
li
e,
all [rhe] birds of prey Tha, rl,ink |l,iml rurrring ,.rr.,+. In a satiric story, no. all rhe human beings need be disguised as animals.,{ defr satirist can produce the right effect by introducing only one animal, aDd sholving it as Raven aDd gorcrolv,
TEE DlSTORTINC MIRROR ual, ot in some rvays supedor, to its human associates. us, in Peacock's Melincourt, thete is an admirable ape hich has been brought from Angola to England, taugh. usages of poliLe society, and christ€ned Sir Oran t-ton. (Peacock evidently did not distinguish between East Indian orang-outang and the Afuican chimPanzee.) has bought ia a baronetcy, and inrends to have patron Its t sent by a pocket borough into Parliament. Sir Oran speak, but afler all nany of the English gentry prjde Ihem.el\e' on rh.ir impenelrable rericence. and \ay very lilrle e\Lepl Fla hm. Orherrvi'e he i\ emineo(ly acceptable. True, he is nther hairy, buL $'hiskers $ere ionable then. He has a tendency to leave the room by jumping tlfough the windolv, but the English admire both athletes and eccentr:ics. Sir Oran I-laut-ton drinks as heartily as any landed gendeman, and has the unexPected Social aalenaol playing the flute. i In a trenchant modern satire, His Monket Wife, or' Md''ried to a Chimp 0%o), John Collier inLroduces the female of lhe simian f:mily. She is called-like the hemine o[ the frrst great love-story in the English languageEmily. Dutiful, taciturn, devoted as Griselda, she loves her dear master Mr. Fatigay, and endures many humilia tions so as to be near him. She cannot lalk, b t she can lype. Mt gracious r;lence, he sometimet calls her, laughingly. When he is deccived and mistreated by a cheaP selfish human girl, she ueeps for him. When she hersel.f becomes a star dancer (her dark Spanish beauty setting men's hear6 on frre), she uses all her wealth to redeem him from the degradation into which his amorous distppointment has throlvn him. At last, in a melodramatic (and mons.rously improbable but sariricaUy accePtable) gubstitution at the very altar, she mard€s him An ape she may be; but she is lar better than the ordinary woman, whose skin may be smooth and white, but lvbose soul is
.189.
TIIE DISTORTlNG MlRROE cankered, whose muscles, like her heart, are stunted, and who has the congenital defects of Irivolitn infid€lity, and galrulity. Wdtten with bitter elegance, this novel is a satire nol only on modem $'omanhood, but on the modern ideal of romantic love: its very title contains a cynical allusion to the cheapest amorous liction, and its chapters are punctuated by quoarions from Tennyson's ZocAsle1 Hall."4 4. DIS'I'ORTI,D
A
satirical picture of our '!vorld, rvhich sholvs only human beings as its inhabitants, musL pretend to be a photograph, and in fact be a caricature. It must display their more ridiculous and repellent qualities in lull flower, minimize their ability for healthy normal living, mock their viftues and exaggerate their vices, disparage their greatesl human gifts, the gift for co-operation and the gif. for invenrive adapradon, treat their religions as hypocrisy, their arL as trash, fi€ir literature as opium, their love as lust, their virtue as hypocrisy, and cheir happiness as an absurd illusion. And ir must do all this rvhile protesting thaL it is a truthful, unbiased, as nearly as possible dispassionate witness. This is dilicult. It is mosl successfully achieved by authors lvho are, or pretend to be, themselves part of the ludicrous and despicable pattern of human life; or byauthors who, rvhile standing outside fieir srories, still relate them either with wide eyed and apparently honest naiv€tC or with uhat looks like mild indulgent humor. Satiric novels rvhich are predominantly harsh and bitter, lik€ Ciline's /ournet to the [,nd. of the Night, arc difficult to rite; and often their authors spoil them by veedng away Irom rhe true purpose of satire into true realism or somber tragedy. A tone of indulgent comedy is bcsti and the sallrist's flag bears the device halltrue and
,190,
7HE DlSTORTIN G MIRROF f.f^lse. riAenkm rlicere uerutn, "to tell Lhe truth with r laush."r Because he neglecEd this PdnciPle, Guttave Flaubert ilecl in his grand design of writing an etre'rive sadrical )vel about stupidiry. Boul)ard and Picuchet (Ieft .unished at his death in r88o) lold the story of two middledged men, office hacks like Charles Lamb, rlho retired to 9ie counrry on a lucky l€gacy and starEd to sLudy all the tetlectual disciplines for t'hich they had nevcr previously leisure. wifiout exPerience, they try farming; they artempt to learn chemistry, geology, medicin€, etc, Irom books; and they lail in everything because of the contrarin€ss of human beings an.l the idiotic inconsistencies of authors. ln an nnprobable scene which may be an unfunny parody of Go€the's Fattst I' they decide .o commir suicide, bul are dissuaded by seeing the celebration of the Chistmas midnighl mass in a lirtle country church "They feel something like darvn rising in their souls"i but in 'the very next chapter they become shatp and deeply read
,critics of Chrisrianity, citing Tertuliian and Origen like trained scholars. And so they Bo on, through phrenologl' to educadon, to politics Like Sir Hudibras, Their notions frtred things so well, That vhich $as nhich they could not tell; But ofueniimes mistook the one Ior th' other, as great clerks hav€ done sg At the end oI the book Flaubert planned to make them withdraw frod the $orld and take uP their old rrade of copying. Copying rvhat? A dictionary of human stuPidities Flauberr had atready compiled tts lrasis' a Dictionary of A\cepted lderd-which reminds us of S\rifL's CompLete Cotlect;on al Gente€l and Ingeniour Contersation B.ut ' there is an important difference Bofi Swift and Flaubert were convinced that the mass of men l\'ere "as well qualified for flying as fforl thinking";"" both rvere moved to .
191.
TEE DISTORTING MIRROR nausca by the spectacle of human follyi bur S$,ifr re.ained, even in his grimmest moods, a sense of humor, 1\'hilc Flaubet bored both himself by his search rhrc gh rhirdclass books for examples of third-ctass rhinking, and his reade$ by the banality of his examples. There is something comic in even the silliest exchanges in Swift's Coz-
T E DISTORTIN G
141RROR
collections of cigar:ette-stubs, roln bus tickers, hair-comb, ines, Irugmenis of dirty newspaper, and broken bordes, rvhich the padaists used b frame and exhibit zs collagcs; and som€times the patient readet, as he rvatches rhe nov€l. ist laboriously sieving out a huge inrellecrual rubbish-
dump, rvonders rvhether FlauberL himseu in this Prcjecr was not unconsciously providing a Prime exanPle of hurman stupidity. The satirist should enjoy his subject, hol€v€r Sruesome it may be; ho$'ever stupid, it should give him a snarling laugh. One of the leading contemporary satirists in English began his career rvhen he $'as still young enough to laugh at folly and to cock a snook at sin. This rvas Evelyn Waugh, whose first book, published in rgtS lvhen he rvas only twenty frve, bore the mock-portentors title DecLine and Fdll, with the subtide "An lllustrated Novelette." ("Novelette" in England is a non_U word, meaning "cheap romance." The illustrations, some of ftem very amueng, were by Waugh himseu.) The book is a novel of modern life, rvirh a plol almosr as outrageous as that ot Candide Its herc, Paul Pennyfeafter, is a quiet lilde undergtadlnte at Oxford $'ho intends to becom€ a clerglman A SroLtP of drunken noblemen, reeling oul of a Parry, meet him in the quadmngle, and, bccause he is apparenrly wearing the tie of a club to $'hich tre does not belong, "de'bag" him, or take his lrcusers off. He is then exPelled "for indecent be_ havior," 'ith tris career ruined. He gets a job as a schoolmascer. in an inferior private school in Wales, wiLh an aristocratic English clicntele and a slafi comPosed of eccentrics and criminals. At the schoot sports, a chic and beautilul lady called M$. Maryot Beste Ch€trvynde (doub. Iess pronounc€d Deast-Cheating) comes down to see her son. She fatts in love wirh Paul, finds a Place for him in hel busin€ss, the Latin American Entertainment Company Ltd., and is about to marry him, rvhcn he is arrested: the Larin American Enterbinmenr ComPany l-td. has been exposed as an organization $hich shiPs girls to Latin Amcrica for one $pecihc and Senerally disaPProved tyPe of €nteftaining. Paul spends some tine in prison, is smuggled
' 192.
. 193.
Mi$. Well, comparisons are odiousj but she's as like h€r husband as if she were spit out oI his mourh; as like as one egg is to another. Pray, how
w_as
she dressed?
Lad, Snart. Why,
she was as fine as fr'penc€; but truly there was more cost dran worship. Lad, Ansuemll. I don'r knorv her husband. Pray, what
I thought
is he?
Ladl Snart. W}.y,
he' s a concealer of rhe la!v; you must knolv, he came to us as drunk as David's sow.,o
But mosr of FlauberCs Dictionary is m€rely flat. cnoconrrr. Attracts people by imiraring the cry oIa child. DIAlro^"D. One of these days lhey'll make synrhetic onesl And just think, ir's only carbonl cur-F'srREAM. Celebrated town in Nor$,ay, recently discovered. yAwNrNc. Always say, "Excuse me,
it isn't
boredom, it's
my stomach." wALTz. DenoDn.e
r'r
of the novel is an a d wasre o{ sentences such as this: "^tbe Catechim ol Perset)erance, by caume, had disgr$led Bouvard so in.ensely fiat he took up the volume of Louis He1'vieu." The loral €fiecr resembles those Page after page
THE DISTORTINE MIRROR
TIIE DISTORTIN G M]RROR
t unaler a fake deaLh certifrcate, and returns to Oxford continue studying for the church The main point of this is ihe double'edged satire that e good are dull and stupid, and that fie beautiful and .1r" .otr,rp, anal ruthl€ss: the world is nor governed moral principles, or even by ordedy reason, bxt by
the absurd But along its blades arrd the potuet "f e are many diamond_sharP facets: jokes against move' ts and personalities, some of which are still alive and inent, while others have receded' since 1928, inco itorv. There is, Ior instance, a progressive German archi' who hates people anal loves machinesr his nam€ is tto Fri€drich Silenus, and he wilt remind some peoPl€ watter Gropius. There is an intensely cultivated Negro med Sebastian Cholmondeley ("Chokey" for short) who s a fine singing voice and declares "My race is a very iritual one": Mr. Waugh may have been thinking of Robeson. Almost every detail in the book could no ubt be paralleled from some real Pe$on or incidenlr t when pul together they form a pattern which is a tlul and painful distortion oI life. It is an entirely I satire. , In rqlr, afLer some years of Preparation, Wyndham Lewis published an outsandingly savage satirical novel about British aesthetes and millionaire Bohemians. It l\'as ed. The Apes al God, ar.d contained ferocious carlca-
"The social balance was delicately poised." lvtlln
Wansht
.
194.
a series of brillianr tales by Aldous Huxley. This type of satire was probably initi ated in English by Thomas Love Peacock. Although ihere are occasional patches of luminescence in Peacock's novels,
social snobbery rvere explored
in
. t95
THE DISTORT]NE MIRROR their plor srrucrure and their nanarive style now seem painfully arrificial; and \ye read rhem chi€fly for their amusing porrrayals of the manriedsms and conve$ation of Coleridge, Shelley, Sourhey, and others: for this kind
ot sdriye specialjre\ in personal carirarure. However, to enjoy rhe sarire, il is not necessary .o recogniTe the chrra.rerr. When I 6rst. ;n my teens. read Hu\le):s novels, it never occurred to me thar rhc fantastic figures in them might portray living people. (Being bred in Scor land, I thought they were merely imaginary ecceno:ics from southern England.) No.!v I undersrand that rhe majodty of them were easily identifiabte. The absurd Burlap in Paint Countet Point (r9r8), to me incredible, $,as irfact the c tic Middleton Murry, drawn so halshly rhar his enemies rejoiced and he himself was deeply wounded. (Like Byron on reading Southey's gibe at his hot remper, he thoughr of challenging Huxley to a duel. We must regret that he abandoned rhe idea, for it I,ould have produced one of lhe funniest scen€s in a]l literary hisrory.) Recently the American saririst Mary MccartLy wrote a novel called The Groltes of Academe. Her subject was a girls' college headed by a "liberal', president, and she played tvith it as afiectionately as a cat with a ne ly caughr mouse. Not lorg afrem'ards rhe poet Randal Jarrell pro_ duced a novel called Picrrrar lrom an Institution. ihis also portmyed a girls' college l^,irh an eccentric sraff and a boyish presid€nt, bur one of its chief comic characrers was a \'!'oman novelist rvirh a feline smile and a cool unchadtable eye: a figure apparently stron& but harboring humiliating weaknesses of its own.
Most dramatic satires are of this type: caricatures of contemporary life. Yet the frontier ber'$'een comedv and sarire on thF srrge i! a thin and rva\cring line. Ir ir easv enough rn a rrue .arire like parirnrr, bur many 'e.ognize . 196.
THE DISTORTING MIRRO& vr ire blend\ ot \aLjre and comcdy. or e\en ialire dnd iedl. Somerime'.;r in Shalespeare. rhc plor dnd mo'r ih. charr.ters are gay, harmless' close to leality o11 the morous sidei one man-Parolles in,4ll'r Wdll and Malio in Tueuth Nig,ir-is drar'/n in hanher lines, befooled, and exposed to bitt€r scorn. So in Sharv's Doctot'r 'Dilelnmo, ttle mairl characte$ and the plot are lively and ible. but the consulting doctors are gloss tmv€sdes In Molidre's Tartuffe the villain is bigger than li{e-size, viler than any normal reality; and yet, because such hypo'
crites are o[!e!r mor:e intense and convincing than ordinary men, he is real enough. Still, we do nol laugh at the end Tartufre, as \Ne do when a comedy closes. We shudder; lve wan! to spit. lt is a salire both on the hyPocrite and
$lro beliele bim To produce rhe lull eflecr o[ salire on lhe 'rrage exa8serali;n i\ usually nceded. ls ir po"ible ro imrgine the iirst Lord ol rhe Admiralrv e\plrining Io rhe ' re\a ol on. uDon thc lools
of Her Majesty's ships tbac he reachcd his posiLion by sticking to his desk anal lrever Eoing to sea? or to conceive a naval captain Placed under arrest for saying "Damme" to one of his men? No; but Disraeli Save the Admiralty post to a publisher who tne$r more of Politics than of seafaring, and ihe reforms of British naval custom had mollified much of th€ old harsh discipline. The satire in these cases, as in othe1j, consists h a reductio dd absurdum: "if rhal," the satirist says $'ith a ruthless smile, "!vhy not this? '
Serious'mintled sludents oI the classics often comPlain that Aristophanei picture of Socrates ln The Clouds is not litelik€.'frue, the actor wore a mask bearing the l'ellknown fearures-so comical that they scarcely needed ex' aggendon. But Socrates apPeared in a space-vehicle, in which he said he could "move firough air and corLemPlate the sun"; and one of his pupils described an ingenious experimerl in l'hich Socrates measured the lengrh of a .
197.
TIIE DIETORTINE MIRROR jump. flea's Critics ofAristophanes say that the real Socmtes paid liltle attention to astronomy and biolog) but concentrated on ethical teaching. How- truel They mighr add that he did not live in an isolated Phrontisterion, or Think' stitute: he ralked about the sueets conversing $,ith anyone and everyone. But Aristophanes is rvriring satire. Satire, which pretends to be true, is usually a disrortion. Long after the gay dramatic satires of Aristophanes had left the slage, they rvere succeeded by the melancholy romantic comedies of Menander. An admiring cdtic exclaimed, "Menanderl Lifel Which of you copied the other?" This is not rvhat anyone-except perhaps a mod€in philologistrrould cry after seeing a play by Aristophanes. Satire is often Iunny. but a eomedy is not a \arire. Another group of satires on contemporary life contains those stories which involv€ travel and advenrure. The extravagant pictures of society such as Peacock's novels, alrhough lhe) .onrain alirums and cvrur,ions. are e"sen tially static. These satires move, and their heroes see a great deal of lhe rvorld. Somelimes the hero is a passive obser\er, enduring and. in (ilcn,e. criri, izing: somerimes he is a sort of knighr erranr, \. ho ir r uprs in ro \ayiolrr groop, and ups€ts both th€m and himself. Not every fictional tale of rrai'el is a satire. Some are perfectly serious; some are purely l,Lrmorous: som€ are boldly romantic. And, because many authors are nor clear in their minds about the distincrion bet$,een satire and other types of writing, it is common to find a novel \,rhich passes from straighr narrative to broad comedy, thence into satire, and thence again il-lro romance. For insranc€, much of tlre plot of ?he Pichwich Papers covers rhe rravels of the Perpetual Chairman, rvith his lriends and his sewant. The Club itself is a mildly satirical skerch of th€ new
.198.
THL DISTORT]NC MIRROII tellectual societies, such as the Athenaeum, which lvere founded in Dickens's young days: hence the ride of r. Pickwick's paper, "Speculations on the Source of ihe ampstead Ponds, h'ith som€ Observations on the Theory Tittlebats." Some of the voyages of the Chairman are y satidc, We calr see which, by observing those in ich the names are cruelly distorled, the characters €thel iculous and repulsive, and the adventures unduly for example, the visit to a tolvn called Eatansrvill, Lhe elecLion is fiercely tonrerted l,y Buff and Blue. rvhere the lion-hunring hosless (who reaG a parodic "To an Expiring lrcg," in the costume of Minerva) called Mrs. Leo Hunter. BLrt other episodes of the novel purely comical or harmlessly romantic; at lait, \{hen reach the Fleet pdson, the story l€aves satire behind together, and even the picaresque Mr. Jingle becomes a of true pathos. In these varied episodes, Mr. Pickwick is sometimes a assive spectator, occasionally an unconscious object, somemes an acaive catalyst. In the intensity of their activity, hero€s of satiric travel-books difter widely. Thus, in t"K;ng:s Modern Europe by Evelyn Waugh (1949), quiet middle'aged English schoolmaster, who has transited an otherrvise unknown baroque Latin poet, is invited artend a celebration of the poeCs tercentenary in Neuialia, the country of his birth. He is plunged into the bsurd intrigues of modern totalitarian politics, slvept arvay the underground like a piece oI paper in a se €r, finally delivered-without taking any action lshat' a displaced person in ar illicit immigrants' camp
-as Palestine.
On the other hand, in l)on Quixote, the hero and his uire spend th€ir entire lives careering through an otherfairly stable society and disordering it. The satirical u(cmenr .omei parr11 trom our plea.ure in wir!hing
't99.
THE DTSTORT]NG MIRROR their invincible cmziness, and pardy from rhe surpriscs which are provided by its conflict with othcr pcople's i]]u. sions. Such also is the reslrlt produced by the stolid bur shre$'d stupidity of the Good Soldier Schrveik, who lived thrcugh the li$t World War and thrclv the entir€ AusroHunga an army into confusion by simply doing exactly as he rvas lold by his superior officers. BrL here once afiain rve mcet the difficuky that many alttho$ put on and take olI the mask of satire, rvithorr thinking that this spoils their elTect. One of the ler{' good books written in Gemany during the disas.rous seven teenth ceotury is The Adoenlurous Sinplicissitnus, by Halls Jakob von Gdmmelshausen. This is a remarkablc book, almost as rambling and versatilc as Goe$et Fa"rl. The name Sinpltcirrimrr (later adopted for an imporiant sariical weekly) means Uttff Simpleton: the hero is an innocenr, like Voltaire s Candide and L'Inginu, and Margites. The first i.lea that its author had $'as a fine one. His hero rvas kidnapped
as a
boy of ten, when his entire larnily
killed or ortraged in a guerrilla action of the terriblc he was brought up in th€ rvoods, by a hermit; then he rvent into a rvorld disordered by war and corruption, to see it lvith the eyes of an infanr, or a saint. This concepr, if the author had worked it out, might havc been rvonderfully successful: a series of candid'camera pic' tures of an atrocious age, to match the simple but teffible etchings of Callot. But Grimmelshausen lost hold of it somer{here. He made his young hero become a court fool, and then-quite irrationally-the boldest rnarauder in all th€ armies, ambushing and looting, dueling and plunder' ing. Wirh the change in the hero, the change in the book ruins it: it has turned Irom satir:e to picaresque, and soon it changes again from picaresque to romantic comedy. A good idea rvas wasted, because in a chaotic time it is hard was
Thirty Years'wari
.24O. The tmage of Sarirc Ilonrispir.e from
1669 .diiior df CrinnnekhauseD Simf li.iss itu1L\ T e I tt. h
s
11D D1STOR7 lN G MIRROR The same applies to Byrcn's Dan Juan.By rrature, Byron was a satirist: mafly of his lelters and much of his private ponve$ation were r{itty, distorted, obscene, and basically L But he was also a romancer, $rith a soft and ardent hearr; and something of a hero, r'ith a taste for bold adventure. The result rvas that, averse as always co planning, he {'rote a poem as disorderly as his life, a poem which was inknded to be a satire, but which for long periods veered ofi into other ton€s and other emotions, and must thereT
forc be prorounced an artisric failure. Satir€ must be various, but it ou8ht not to lose irs special astringent tone.
I{ere it is worth discussing one peculiar lirtle travel satire, because its author is so illusrrious and its point so obscure. In the fifth poem of his first book ofsatires, Horace describes a slorv, uncomfortable, and laborious journey which he and some friends made ftom Rome to Brundisium. Norhing very much happened. Although there rvere some brilliant and charming men in the party (Veryil, for insrance, and Maecenas) not a word of their conversation is lecorded: aPParently the high point of the trip rvas a vulgar slanging-match betveen tl{o prof€ssional bufioons at a party. On the surface thc poem is a rissue of trivialities. To understand its satiric point, $'e must recall rhe political tensions of the tilne r'hen ir was composed. The year was 37 B.c. Three years before, the rivals for supreme power in Rome, Mark Antony and Octavian (larer Augustus) had agreed, to partirion the Roman lvorld inLo eastern and $'estem "spheres of influence." Now Octavian, frghting a difficult Ilar in the wesr againsr the heir of Pompey, asked Antony for help. Antony replied by appearing ofi Brundisium with a flc€t ot.hree hundred ships. This was a Breat deal more than Octavian expect€d. It looked as though Antony proposed to take over the war, finish it, and become supreme. On their own initiarive, the authori' ti€s oI Brundisium kept him out of the harbor. I-Ie sailed .201.
TEE DISTO R7I NC MIRROR oF to Tarentum. Near thcre, a few r\,eeks later, rhe vals met, and renewed their uneasy alliance. (ft 1\as ro end six years afterwards, in the battle of Actium, followed by Antony's suicide.) One of Octaviant principal advisers was the adroit Maecenas. It rvas in his suite that Horace and Vergil $'enr to Brundisium. His journey-n'hich lvould normally have taken nine days and r,\'hich he prolonged for fifteer days, apparenrly in order to study {nrony \ inrenrion-was in early move in a complex and imporrant diplomatic chessmatch. In Horacet poem, however, rhe polirical problems are scarcely mentioned. We hear only that Maecenas and another man were 'tent as delegates on $eat issuesj" thar they rvere "accustomed to reconcile estranged friends," and that a third member of the party was "6rst among rhe friends of Antony." Octavian is never menrioned; nor, apart ftom that one phmse, is Anrony. The struggle ('irh Sextus Pompey is nor hinred at, nor is the imminence of Antony\ '!r'ar fieet. Everything seems peacefut, even sleepy. There is no trace of exciremenr. After th€ earlier treary, in 4o r,c., Vergil ltr:ore a poem full of rapturous happiness and hope: his fourth B colic, foretelling the advent of a new Age of Gold, leith peace on earrll ar last. But now Horace feels no comparable excirement. His enrire poem is a catalogue of the unimpor:tan!. Here the frre smoked because the luel rvas rvet. There the varer rras bad. Horace got a buch of ophthalmia. Vergit had indigestion. Their host at Beneventum nearly ser fire ro the kitchen. A girl said she would join Horace in bed, but didn'r. The bread is exceptionally good in Equus Tuticus. And so on, ro a suitably flat conclusion:
The €nd of this long road, and
screed, is Brindisi.
Now, why is it all trivialized? Did Horace rtrink the entire trip was a $,aste of time? Did he despise both Oc,
.202.
THE DISTORTINA MIRROR tavian and Mark Anlony, and conremn their shrewd advisers? This;s out of the question. He $ras no fool: he admired N{aecenas and Octavian greatly; he had already '$'ritten deeply serious polilical pocms abolrt the crisis oI the Ronan l\'orld, and he knew how much r,as ar stake. Scholars genemlly adduce only fivo reasons for his pubtlishing sLrch a poem. Horace, lhey say, wanted to wdte "a masterly desrription of ordinary experiences," "a liv€ly picrure of a jorrney." And he rvished to rival his predecessor Lucilius, !r'ho had composed a travel poem about a trip to Sicily.{1 These explanations might be sufncienr if Horace had taken an ordinary joulney as his subject a casual jaunt with a f€rv friends chosen at random. But this particular joumey Nas so imporranr that he must have had Iurther purposes in treating ic sati cally. In part, he is satidzing himself. He is the little man t{ho moves on the friDge of great events rvithout having the Porver, or even fie rvish, to influence them. He knows very well that, since his father was a slave, he will be bitteriy criticized if he grasps ar porver and dignity. (This is indeed rhe theme of the next sarire in dris same book.) His talena is for poetry, not politics.ll Bur he is also satirizing th€ outsiders, those r{ho mis' conceive his true relation to Maecenas. (l{e elaboratcs this topic in the ninth poem oI this book.) Thousalds of people $'ould have liked ro knorv Nhat !ven. on during- the days preceding this impotant conference, and at the con, ference itself. Elsewhere Horace complains that he is con-
ttantly cross-questioned by acquaintances Nho think he kno s, and will betray, important secrets of state.l3 Therefore, to mock the curiosity of such brsybodies and their
misappreh€nsion of his friendship i.h Maecenas, he writes a poem rvhich describes ith photographic clarity everything excepl whal they really want lo know. Such delicate mockery can sometimes be almos! too mild for
.203.
7HD DISTORTING MlRROR satire; and some readers have concluded lhar not only the journey but the poem itseu was pointiess. This is a misrake. The satire is a subde study in conirasL.
In satires disposed as talcs of travel through regions ot the real lrorld, the target is somerimes the places themselves Uith their inhabitants as observed by a quizzical visitor, and souretimes the visitor himself, who is shorvn as simple, easily puzzled, easily bamboozled, and easily shocked. In the satiric episodes of Byron's Do, ,JMn the hero is both amltsed and bewildered by the coane corruptions of Carherine's Russia and by the more civil sensualities of Regency England. In one of;ts mosr succexfut imitations, Linklat€r's "/rl.,n in Ametica (r93r), a naive buc energetic and amorous young Britishcr savors both the dangers and the delights of Amcrica during those rvild days when thc consumption of Iiquor was enormously encournged by the Prohibition Arnendmenr, and sexuai acrivity more than kept pace with the intake of fermented liquors. Among the bitteresL of modem satiric rravels is Evclyn Waugh's Blach Mischief (r93a), the tale oI an lnscrupulous young Englishman in the AI can kingdom of Azania (which is not \'\'holly unlike Abyesinia). Told nor It'irh the usual romantic feryoi but $'ith cool acerbity, it has a climax rthich makes a fine satirical comment on the cunenr idealislic doctrine that all races are brorhers under the skin. The hero, Basil Seal, attends the funeral feast of the dead Emperor Seth, and even pronounces a funeral eulogy upot him befor€ the eating and drinking begin. The main dish ar lhe feast is st€w, and its main ilgredient is Basil's mistress, Prudence Courteney, daughter of rhe British minisler. Ile does not discover dris until, enBaged in the passive process oI digtstion, he sees her red beret decorating the head ofone of his hosts. Waugh plays a variation on the same theme in ?rs . 241
THE DlSTOR|IIN G MIRROII Loveit One (r948), l'hich is basically a satire on the famous ideal;tic cemetery of Southern Califomia, l'orest Lal{n' Most of th€ book describes, $jith gruesome charm, the proce's ol embalming and 'osmeri' irine Ihe (orp(es /dead ih'orgl' "urg.ry, srrangulared or dro\ned and seachang;d, ii makes no difference) and makes fun of th€ eleganr Iang.'age ol a tunerdl home shere rhe dead are Loied Ones. lheir relari\ec rhe lVairing One'. and the mortuary the Slumber Room. But the hero is an English amatelrr cr:ook (one of Waughh {avorite tyPes, a smaller version of Basil Seal): he regards Southern California as a crazy anal inconceivably remote foreign country, from $hi.h- like a Conrrd hero he mu\r bv anv mean' ercape before it absorbs and engulfs him; and ihe book ends I\ ith his imminenr departure from a land which even nativ€boln Americans sometimes feel belongs to anoth€r far.listant vorld. A fclv satires may be called inverted travel books ln th€s€, the writer disguises himself as a foreiSner frcm far aUay, visits his own country, and then describes its customs with humorous amazement kmFer€d by disgust The most important of these is the series o+ Persian Letters oublishei anonrmou.lr ar Am'rerdam in ' 72 r' ind $rirren ty rhe loung ( har le,.le l\4onrF\qrriFu' larer I rrnou' ae rhe arrhor ol The \bi,it at Lotr." I h' book purPorr' Io be a collecrion of corresPondence to and trom trvo educated Persian gentlemen visiting Europe, rvhich they find interesting but olteh incomprehensible The best satirical letters are ;ose which turn uPside down the ethnocentrism of Furopean( and Chrisrians: for in'rancc the rhilr\-n;nth' ;n rvt,iclr a Haiii. writing ro r lewjJr pro\elyrF ot T\lam €xpldin" rhe rLemendou\ mir a'les \Llrir h 'r rendcd I he bir rh oI Mohamme.l, and ron'lude' Afrer 'o many 'triking testimonies only a heart oI iron could refdse to believe his holy law." Nfontcsquieu conlrived lo satirize the church .
205
7:EE DISTORTINC MIRROR by making his Persians refer to alt Cathotic priesrs as "dewishes" and the Pope as "rhe Mufti." Unfortunately, being French, he felt he must bring in Amour; and so he gav€ a sott of narrative continuity ro rhe corespondencc by inserting a series of highly improbabte letters ftom the 'rfives of one of his Persians, passionate ladies left at home in the seraglio, unhappy, ill disciplin€d, and reduced to despair, corruprion, suicide. This romanric fiction may have interesred his eighteenth-century readers, but spoils the ef{ect ot the satire for us, since we conclude that a man rrho could not govem his or{'n household could scarcely criticize a foreign kingdom wirh any cogency. Once again we see horv dangerous it is to intersperse sarire niLh other types o{ literature, unless rhey are very close to it in spirit. 5. THE STRUC"I'URE OI SATIRIC STORIES AND PLAYS Apart from their general satiric intention, we can trace certain distinguishing marks in all rhese stories and ptays.
II they are long, they are usualty episodic. Atthough the satirist pretends to be telling a conLinuous srory and gives his fictior, a single urifying tirte; hc is less interested in developing a plot, rvirh preparation, suspense, and ctimax, than in displaying many difierent aspecrs of an idea; and, as a sati st, he does nor believe that the u,orld is orlerlv and rational. Therefore gaps and interruptions, even iri, consistencies, in the srory scarcely co[cern him. His characters flit from one amusing humiliation to another with scarcely any inrervals of time and reflecrion. Seldom do tirey develop by degrees, as people in real novels do, They may display more of rbeir clnracrer as rhe srory drops them into nerv situations, but they do not grorv. At the very cnd, rhey somerimes unde€o a nclical change-r!'hich con€sponds ro the charrge lr,hich rhe satirisr .206.
THE DISTORTING MIRROR lf ishes to induce in his readers. Candide believes the optimistic theory oI Leibniz through fiventy-nine pters of hideous and comical misadventur€s, and is only verted to realism in the thirrieth and final chapter, by
B total stranger. Lucilrs is an ass for ten books, unail lhe y frxed tor hi. dearh: onl) rhen, by a divine miracle, is he made a man. After a hundred and tw€nty-six chapters Don Quixote is still as mad as ever: iI he is prevented from being a knight-erranr, he is determined to become a figure from the unreal ilorld of pastoral, "the sheph€rd Quixotis"; ir is only in the next, the linal chapter, that he regains his lenses and dies. Lemuel culliver rvas naive and coarse when he visited Lilliput; he indeed does grorv and change during his two succeeding voyages; but only in the island of l,the Houyhnhnms does he realize that he is a Yahoo. Thereafter he $'ill make no further voyages, but can scar.cely endure to live in r"hat he once believed $'as his happy home. r The comedies of Aristophancs are so disorderly, with so many apparently improvised scenes and so many characters i upting apparcntiy ar haphazard, thar the plan underlying their structurc vas discovered only three genemtions ago.45 Even then, il is mther a sequeDce of episodes than a single development. (Such also $as the original Latin idtura, on which s€e chapter 5 of this book.) We can easily see one of the main difierences belwe€n satire and comedy if we read one of Aristophares' ramblinB fantasies aDd then one of Menander's suave and symmerrical sludies of reality. Menander Laltes a thin slice of life, extmcts the impure and the exrmneous from it, and folds ir inro anear omelerte. Aristophanes polrrs Bacchus intoa hugemixing borvl, jollies us into a dozen toasts, paints our Iace rvith rvine, plays Aorrabor wirh it, splashes it on the walls, and canies us oll lwith him into a orld of intoxicaGd inconsequential imaginarion r,here happin€ss is not found through logic. Certain non-dramatic \lorks of satire also arc merely
TEE DISIORTING
M I RROR
stdngs of episodes, ffhich coutd be disjoined and rearran$d rvithout damaging their satiric effecr: for insrance, rhe jcsts
Till Eulenspiegel or Orvlgtass..Eulenspiegel rvas a real man, a famous pmctical joker who \{,as born a Brunswick peasant and died about r35o. Popular rradition fath€red many sharp jokes and clever hoaxes on him, making him the hero of the poor folk, rhe peasant satirisr .!vho turns the tables and makes fools of arrisan and burgher, priest and nobleman. His ad\enrurc, do nor lonn a (onrinuour story, but they do illustrate a single unified artituale ot mockery, proresr, and derision: thus they make a sarire. (When describing rhem in music, Strauss rightly decide(l that the appropriak form Jor them rvas a rondo.) This shorrs (learlv Ll,ar 'onrjnuity and devFlofmenr are nol necessary elements of a naffadve satire, In this sense, even a group of short stories (if united by a single thread slrch as a dominating chaecter or a pervasive theme) could bc called a satire, iI irs satiric inrcnrion lt,ere clear enough and sarong. oI
Secondly, satiric tales are ofren improbable, and do nor somerimcs ny to make rhem seem credible (as Srvift does) and somerimes laugh at both rheir readers and rheir subjects (as Rabelais does); but lerv long satiric srories can be enjoye.l unless we suspend belief. Their heroes and heroines sufier morc trials and aribularions than any ordinary man could endure withorl breaking dorvn, goingmad, or dying. They survive,
obiat to Leing impo"sible. Ttreir aurho)s
apparently u[touched, apparenaly ildesrrucrible. I oncc gave a physician an outline ot Don Ouixore s medi.al hi{ory ,!virh pla,es and rimF, .ti.gui.e.l . ,t*. riLed t , chief adl,entures, and asked {or a prognosis. He said ,,Any nor:mal man would have died by norv. your friend mlrsl be insane: iI so, he .ll'ill keep eoing almo* indefinitety.,,
.208.
THE DISTORTINC MIRROR ide, Encolpius, Schrveik, Simplicissimus-they have prercrnalural gifr of survival. Their sitLrarions are equally improbable. Apuleius asks to believe that a young man interested in magic went a country where it was commonly pracaised, and was into a donkey. Aristophanes tells us tbat his hero red ro bring Pca,e back lo earlh: rjn(€ Pe'rce lr\e' in he had to fly up to bring her down: so he trained large flying beetle (Geotrupes stercordrius, \\hich e ts rng as fuel) to carry hin, and it telePorted him into Feace Belt. The pygmies of Lilliput and the gianb of bdingnag are impossible, even physically, and the lvise beDevolent horses who are sened by mindless anthroPoid illains are so absurd thal, in reading the fourth of Gullis trayels, we altend o[ly lo the saliric message without cven trying to believe its lictional structure. Satiric tales of trickery-are they reality or fantasy? They ound highly improbable, mosr of them, and still. . The Inspector-General of Gogol was a Imud so tmnsparenL that he virtually exposed himself, and anyone, rve think, should ve s€en through him; but more outrag€ous frauds have been perpetrated and have succeeded. In Romains' admi' rable iatiiic comedy Knoch, or Tha Tiumph ol Medicine (rq2j/ he ar. d'lccl ro belie.e rhar a qua, k pl'vsician uith Ineaqer Irnining and rude expcrifn'e rale\ o\er a IargF communily of healthy rhrifty suspicious French peasants' .onal converts it into a gigantic sanarorium full of obedient hypochonddaas. In real life' the regionzl medical associa.tion would have check€d his qualifications and $'recked 'his enterprise long before ir matured-or so we say lo our_ lelves, and then lte remember the fake specialisb r{'ho Proliferate like cancer cetls both in country comrnunities and in large cities; and we f€el the impact of satire Of all the :lmprobabilities rvith rvhich satire deals, the mott Platrsible 'End the closest to real life is the faaud, the hoax, the s$'indle'
It
TEE DISTORTING MlRROR for scienrisrs to tesa rhe limirations of human
is easy cndunnce under conditions of acute srrain; but th€ height aDd depth and breadrh and absorbent polve. of human stupidirl cannor be dercribeJ bv tlre mo.r etoquenr ot .ari. ri\rs.orexl,dusred by rl,emu\r in\enri\cot\ariii,,-in.tte,". Ousr belorc h,ri'ing rt,i\ para3raph I redd rhe biogrlphy o[ a man {.tro rea y sotd rjre Eiflel -foher ro /r.,o differenL scrap-meal merchanrs. He posed as an agent of the FreDch gov€rnmentj whieh as usual needed money; and he tol.I them ir must be kept confidential.) To mo(( and expo,e rhe gultiLiliry ot mankrnd is one ot rhe,,hi(f funirions ot pdnurge, rhe rterer unprinciptcd rascal who is rhe associate and friend of prin.e 'l hey mJke d ,rr,,n8e,oupte. rhe gooJ priore turrrugiuet. dnd (ouflie,: rhey do nor (losclv curresponJ rvirh rh; brd llre orlrer master-and-servant pairs who are norable in sarire an.l romedy: Dionysusrnd Xanrhias, Don eLr;xore.rnd Srn.ho, uon Jrun and Lepore o. fhcy rre r toser ro prince jl.rl and Falstafl, but the difference berween rhe ftvo pairs is srill great. Pantagruel, who is a wise, benevolent, and cultured monarch, does not rreat panurge (rvhose name means Cle\er S.oundretr as an amusing companiorr met tor an hour rnd lhen lorgor(en. He takes him inlo his serri,r, and spends_much time talking lvith him. panurge.an tr, ,,o sense be called an adviser or a minister of his he is ."r.. lile.a-roun root, ha\ing, inrreadfrince: ot a hump lr:h ba( I. or a d\\ ar fish body, an inconigiLty nd ugtr ry mind. yir ir is irnpos'iblc ro e\, ise Panurge trom RaLrtdi_ wundFr Lul stor:y. He represents one oI the essential €lements in satire, ds P2n'Jg'u(l relrre\enr) anolhcr.lsThe prinrcty gianr rvtro sna orvs dn entrre eroup ot pilgrims b) a., itlcnt, and re. arrange! long,rdnding di.pures Ly supert,uman Sesrur(. otlrengrh and,widom {and or i rrionaJt) ot ridicuier, personrhes sntrrj.at \.orn lor rhe 5mall. and rhe nr(dn, and rhc prejudiced, and rhe conventional. The crook rvho plays
'210.
TEE DISTORT
IN
G MIRROR
jokes on pr€tty girls and well'dress€d men, and can t'gesture a symbolist, our-jargon a psychologist, out-lan'
a semanticist-he personifies the mischievous, detive force of satire, evil in itseu, and only potentially when attached to a good prince or a good principle. a Roman gen€ml oI the republic *'on a great vic, he Nas privileged to Eo, in a procession called a tri ph, to make a sacrifice oI thanks to the supreme god. FIe a coslume of unique grandeur. His family and Friends follo{\cd hi, , harior a, ir morLd rhrouglr rhe shoullnB ts. The victories he had won uere shown in pageants orved by his captives and his rejoicing army. For a time, was raised high above ordinary humanity. But behind m marched his troops, often singing songs of edged deriandcheeful satire: his physical weaknesses, his badhab' hisequivocalreputation,allresoundedamongandsomeabove the shouts of applause. And (according to some thodties) a slave stood behind rhe triumphator in his ot, holding above his head a golden crorvn, but sayg in his ea1 "Remember, you are human." Wichin the of Pantagruel, so free and gay and powerful and sible, Panuqe plays the part of that slave and sings mocking song. Three hundred years later he appears Goethe's F rrl, lvhere he is one of the two principal ractels: Mephistopheles, the spirit uho says always o." Satire is not positive, but negative. And yet, like Mephistopheles, a higher por'€r may deterthat it alitays aims at €vil and always does good.
The exploiti of Panurge rypify another feature of satiric ives. This is that they are usually shocking. Their toes are bealen, soused in fiIfi, threatened wirh insrant tion. Their heroines are raped, enslaved, eaten by bals. In ways equally outrageous, the satiric hero imes abuscs and humiliates the rest of mankind- FIe
.211.
THE DISTORTING TTIRROR Arrd he go€s on, in terms of rhe profoundest ourward respect lor Ch stianity, to explain .hat ir rose ro rhe domi nation of the rvestern I'orld partly because it rvas a rightly organi?ed and lanarical cult, growing out of Jewry, which demarded toleradon lmm ofier creeds and then, once entrenched, refused it ro its competirors; partly because the eariy Christians claimed to perfonn miracles, and guaranteed immortality to their adherenrs; parrly because the tolerant Romans did nor persecute them with continu, ous energy and a true annihilarion policy. These and the oLher causes which Gibbon sets our may well be true; many devout Christians would accepL rhem; yet cibbon thought, and r|'ished his enlighrened readers to believe, ttrat the first reason $'as depiorable, rhe second rubbishy, and the third unfortunate. He could not say so. Therefore he said the opposite, in irony, or puL the dangerous comments in the mouths of others,
On tlle OId Testament. "Thcre are some objections against the aurhoriry of Moses and the prophets which too readily presena rhemselves rc the scepaical mind; though they can only be derived from our ignomnce ot remote antiquity, and our incapacity ro form an adequare judgment of the Divine economy. These objections .rt,ere eagerly embrac€d and as perulandy urged by the vain science of the Gnosrics. . . . The God of Israel was impiously represented by the cnosrics as a being liable ro passion and ro error, capdcious in his favour, inplacabte in his resentment, meanly jealous of his superstitious rvorship, and conlining his partiat providence to a singlc people, and to this transitory life. In such a characrer they could discover none of rhe features of ihe wise and omnipotent Father oI the universe."
On th€ Second Coming, "ln the primirive church rhc influence of trudr vas very porverfully strengttrencd Iy .
214.
TEE DISTORTINC MIRROR opinion which, horvever ir may deserve respecr for its lness and antiquity, has nol been found agreeable experience. It was univenally believed that the end ahe $'orld, and the kingdom
of heaven, rvere at hand. near approach of this wonderful event had been dicted by the aposrles; the tradition of it was preerved by their earliest disciples, and ihose who undertood in their literal sense rhe discou$es of Christ himelf w€re obliged to expecr the second and glorious ing of the Son of Man in rhe clouds, before thar eration h'as totally extinguished which had behetd is humble condition rpon earth. . . . The revolution seventeen centudes has instructed us not to press too osely the mysterious language of prophecy and reveta; but as long as, for wise purposes, this error was itted to subsist in the church, it was productive of most salutary efiects on rhe faith and practice of
n th? exrlu'ion o{ !h( palon,. The condemnarion o[ wisest and mosc viftuous of the Pagans, on account their ignorance or disbetief of the divine rrurh, s€ems ofiend the reason and ihe humaniry of the present . Bur the prim;rive churr h, rvhose fairh was of a much consistence, delivered over, without hesirarion, to torture th€ far greaterparr of the human species."
h the miracles. "Bur how shall r{e excuse the supine nrioo o[ the Pagrn and philosophi. rorld thoe idences which *'ere pr€sented by the hand of 'o Omnipe, not to rheir reason, but to th€ir senses? During age of Chrisr, of his apostles, and of their first disLhe do.rrine whi, h rhey prer, hed ras confirmed innumerable prodigies. The lame rvatked, rhe blind , the sick were healed, the dead were raised. demons expelled, and the laws of Nature were frequenrly .215 '
TNE DIATORTlNC MIRRAR suspended for the benefit of the chlrrch. But the sages of Greece and Rome tumed aside from the awful spectacle, and, punuing the ordinary orcupations of life and sttrdy, appeared unconscious of any alteration in the moral or physical government of the world. Under the reign of Tibe us, the Nhole earth, or at least a celebrated province of the Roman empire, was involved in a preter natuml darkness of three hours. Lven this minculous event, r\rhich oughr to have excited the rvonder, the curiosiry, and the devotion of mankind, passed without notice in an age of science and history."
With
these passages should be ranked the grim chapt€n
in rvhich Tacitus,
a psychiatrisr rratching a the delusions and vices of the early Roman emperors. They behaved as gods, and even called themselves divine before rheir deaths; but (he seems to say rhrough tightly closed lips) .hey were lvorms feeding on rhe hau-dead body o{ $'hat had once been a as coldly as
hopeless schizophreDic, traces
strong and noble republic.
There are some biognphies which qualify as satires: for instance, biographies of p€try scoundrels treat€d as though they \'!'ere g{ear men, and biographies of important men rreated as ahough ttreywere pelty scoundrels or shallo , fools. Flere, as ahvays, the emotional response of the reader is the test. If a life-history, rea) or fictitious, arouses simplc amusement or the excitement of adventure or-like a re, cent biography of Paul Joseph Goebbels unmixed revul.
sion, it should not be styled satirical. But if it produces that unmistakable blend ofamusement and contempt, ther) surely 1ve musr classify ic as sarire. Thus, in Lyftor) Svachey's Eminent Vi.toriarc (r9r8), the srudy of Florenc
.216.
,]^HE DISTORT]NG MIRROR erous picLure. Very old, and (although Strachey does say so) imbecile, Miss Nightingale was given the highest Brilish alvard of its kind, the Order of Medt. "'Too kind, kind,'she said, and she was not ironical." This has lhe of ag€ and modesty; if, her€ and ther€ in his sketch her career, Strach€y does satidze Miss Nightingale's sub' inates and anLagonists, lhat does not alter th€ central r of his biographical essay. But on the fiIst Page of his tudy of Gordon, we meet the general r pping about Iestine with a Bible and a solar lopee, trying to idenlify places menLioned in the Hcbrew scriptures-a Pmctice hich Strachey implics is a ludicrous ecc€nldcity. And Ilthough Gordon's courageous death, surrounded by savand defending a distant outpost of which all olhers spaired, is seriously descdbed, his biography ends nor ere, but wirh a mocking account of Her Majesty Queen iat ?dr) emotional tributes to his dedt memory, and e subsequent moves of British diplomacy, "and a step the p€erage for Sir Evelyn Baring." A ludicrous figure, e brave and cmzy Gordon; contemptible, the suave sanc' ious imperialists l\'ho used him as a tool. So rte are t to think. We are noL supposed to remember: thaa trachey's father was himself a general in the British almy, d a builder of the Brirish Empire; nol are \{e m€ant feel the full force of that passionate Voltairian indignaion $,hich Suachey's friend Clive Bell says lvas his main ive."'We are intended simply to smile a scorrful smile, nd to tuln a(at from the Victorians with disgust. I Several oI stmchey's biographical studies are stbtle ire. '1 here a,e lar less dcli,rrely rrritrn bio3raphie: i.h are neverrheless satiical in their effect. These are s of eminent rogues, composed sometimes (frctionally) ahemselves and sometimes by their Pretended admirers hey arer.alled picaresque ttories. from rhe Sprni'h uo'd a rogue, pi.aro. There must be thousands of them. Not
7HE DISTORTING MIRROR all, by any means, can be classed as sarire. In many of the oI them, rve are m€anr simply ro enjoy rhe higtr spirits of the trickst€r, to be astonished ar the ingenuiry of his stratagems, and to be excited by the trials and dangers through which he chooses Lo pass. For insrance, rhere is a delightful collection of stories by O. Henry called ?lrd Gentle Gralter (r9o8) rvhich plays on atl .hes€ emotions, but contains no snee$, arouses no contempl, and bl€nds the srveetness of its laughter rvith not a drop oI acid..s A number of tales ofcrime and outlaryry are meant to be read with pe ect seriousness, and carry no overtones that could be called satirical. Into this field satire eDrers only rvhen the author has a special purpose beyond telling a srory. When Le Sage rvrites of the advenrures oI Gil Blas ot Santiuana (parts .l2, t:,tS; B, \:,21; 4, ,J'b\, he is ostensibly narating the exploitr of a brilliant rogue for rhc sake of our amlrsement and excitement; buc in fact he is commenring on the corrupr state of sociery. He implies that his era produces, even encourages, rascalsj and that in his corrupt world open rascality is really more admirabtc fian villainy masquerading as virrue. So The A(I entures ol Hajji Bab.r al Ispahan by the British diplomat l. I. Morier (r8z8), lrhich was actually modeled on Gil 3?ar, mighr have been considered a straightforrvard autobiog, raphy if it had been compos€d by a native Persian; but tlrc fact that ir was set down by a foreign obsc er made it appear to be a satiric comment on the de.vious chancter and maladjusted social sysrem of a nation which has usua]ly considered itself far above critic;m-,o Satire is a blade $'ith two edges. Only a few years after Gil Blas appeared, the other edge I,"'as used by Henry Fielding in his biography of a contemporary ctook, Jonathan Wild the Grcat (r?43). Jonathan Wild lvas one of the first men to organize metropol;tan crime on rhe samc big scal. as business and poliLical jobbery. I{e was hanged in r72r,i best
.218.
THE DlSTORTINC MIRROR after his death he became even more famous than dnrhis life. Ior various reasons he was admired as somelike a hero. To attack this cult, Fielding r.rote his lography in a tone of ironic seriousness, rrearing him a 6gure of vasr historical significance. He tmced his estry back to the Saxon invaders of Britain, paralleled im ro Caesar and Ale\ander, and rompared rhe porrenrs ncing his birth to those which heralded rhe advenr Cyrus the Great. Then he recounted all Wild's base and ac*, with the sam€ wide eyed interest and sol€mnity Plutarch in telling the exploits of his Greek and Roman ero€s; finally he conducted him ro his "glorious" death reported the maxims for achieving gaeatness which he uealhed to poslerity. This was a well-conceived sarire. execution, unfortunately, was impe ect. Fielding alys found it difrcult to stick to one single tone ir his s; here h€ branched ofi from mock hercism in|o senai, tality, and broughr in, as a contrast to the Great Jon, Wild, a flawlesly good and innocent man called ftee-thus breaking the saciric illusion and renderhis feigned admiration for Wild ridiculous. _/ormthan ild. the Great satirized not only rhe prosperous criminal ired by the foolish, bua-rvithout mentioning his eminently successful politician: Sir Rob€rt Walwho had just rctired after a long career distinguished , what his enemies called the subrlest forrns of corrup and a bold hypocrisy compamble to rhat of WiId himLg
lf.
-
, DESCRI?TIVE SATIRE Have you ever been to a party where everything rvent From the instant you rang the bell, and heard rhe voieer inside and rhe bab) ( r) ing and rhe dog brrtthrou€ih the moment when you stepped inside and lled the burnt cooking and met the flushed faces ser in
.219.
\ TEE DISTORTINA MIRROR glacial politeness and heard the viperine *'hispe$ wirh hich the host and host€ss interspersed their greelings, to the introductions $'hen you met the grotesque anthropoids rrho leere to be your fellorv-guests, you knew that everything, fiom tllat time onward until the hourof leaveLaking, would be simply agonizing. Lucky, in such a case, the man who is happily marri€d: he and his wif€ €xchange a glance of sympathy and stlength. The single man, if he has the mind of a satirist, may sunive. He will not expecl to enjoy himself in the usual way. He will know that dle meal (if it ever arrives) rvill be interrupted, graceless, and inedible; thar ahe conversation will be spasmodici and that the gaiety will at best be a ferv forced jokes, rvhich, if thc host teeps the drinks circulaling, ldll change into hysteri cal laughter and end in angry shouts or whooping sobs. The entire evening will be punctuaLed by deliciously unpre, dictable accidents. Small children will appear, dirty and crying- Inexplicable srnngers l{'iu lurch through the room and vanish. Loud arguments will take place just out of the range of intelligibility. At int€rvals there will be crashes of glass and crock€ry, smothered screams, and door-slams. Ior the unmarried guesr it \'\dll be dimcult not to excusc himself and escape. II he does stay, he may develop a piercing migraine headache; but if he can liv€ drough this and observe everything that happens, he \'\'ill have had a superb satiric experience. Such an experience is the basis oI a special literary Iorm allied to satiric narrative: satiric descriprion. Instead ol saying, "Lisren, here is the story of an event," the satidst says, "This is a complete picture of a bizarre adventure, a Ii{elike portrait of an absurd and revoldng person." Thc disdnction between a narlative of an event vhich took several hours or days to complete, and a description of a grotesque scerle ('hich could scarcely be grasped all at once, is unimportant. In both cases, the satirist says, "This
'224.
TEE DISTORTlNC MIRROR ened. This I sarv. It r{'as like this: first
.
and
One of lhe chiel Lhemes for satiric description is the nful Dinner, aL which $'ha! ought to have been a occasion turns into a surgical operation without ia lasring several hours. The earliest such satire to me is the eighth in Horace's second book, where miliionaire, entertaining Maecenas and Homce and with a sumptuous banquet, explains th€ refinemenas of every individual dish salted legs of cranes, roast blackirds, &c.-until he puts the guests to flight. The silent gloom of a hungay dependent dining rvith his patron, and swallorving snubs and humiliations together rvifi bad rdne and worse food, is bitterly portmyed in the fifth ofJuvenalt 'satires. The linest of all such evenings is the Banquet oI imalchio in Petronius. The point of this dinner is that ing is wrong. Evertthing is in bad taste, from the iose name of the host (ii is not Latin buL Semitic: ,ti meaning "thrice" + m-r-il, meaning "king," as in oloch, : "Mighty Monarch") to the conv€rsarion of his guests (they begin speeches $'ilh "When I was still a slave" br "I couldn't take a bath today, I was to a funeral"), flom the absurd and nauseating elaboration of the cuisine and ertainment to the ridiculous accidents and degrading luarrels which keep intenupting the festivities, Irom the momenr, when the host arrives late, to the last, when pretends to be dead and has his funeral march playedt is all wrong: i! is a satire on vulgarity written lor a refined court by the Arbirer of Elegance.5' To the lover of tire it is exquisitely satisfying to note that there have been tudents of Roman social life $'ho have read the whole oI Trimalchio's banquet and taken it ao be absolutety typical bf upper'class Roman manners in the frnt century. This
TEE DISTORTINE MIRF.OR is as though some foreign observer of American mores rvere to describe Diamond Jim Brady who began dinner with a qua{ oI orange juice and rhree dozen oysters and gJ\F I'is nr;,rrc.s I ill;:rn Ru,re a qotdt,ta,cd b,, y, tc \irh ieweled hulrcdp, a. a rypi,at Ameri,jn genrtcmJn. tr i\
AHE DI37O&TING MIRROR n Mutual Frienit, which is stamPcd as satirical by the names of the guests-Lady TjpPins, the PodsnaPs, , Brerver, and tlvo stufied Bu{ters, all artended by a tler described as the Analytical Chemist. With modem in manncr' rnd srt lcs o[ errrerrainmcnt it hasnow
hard to see ho!v any scholar could make rhis misrake, since even the disrepurable herocs of petronius constantly jind themselves amus€d but revolted, and finally run arvay from Trimalchio's mansion in disgust."" Bur some philologists, dirhouqlr sLill.d in rhc.ubrlerje. ot tanBuig.. ha\e iiUte oPpotunity, and even apdtud€, for obs€rying rhe nuances of social behavior; and rhis is the penalry of the satirisr_ he exaggerates and selects, but he prerends rc be relling the trurh, and simple-minded readers take him titerally. In modern rimes I believe it rvas the clever Iralian saairisr Francesco Berni (ra97l8-r5j5) who, r,irh ironic descriptions of dre lovely peacefrl time of the plague and ttie beauties of the chamberpot, introducecl the technique ot satiric phorography. He had many Itatian folto.(vers, notably Cesare Caporali (lbgr-160r), wiro was admired and i,ni'tated by the G$t French satirist in rhis stvle. Nlarhur;n Rngniel r573 r6r3). I cannor rra,e rhe rhcme ot rtre ex cruciatingly disagreeable dinrer,party back, in the Renais_ sance, beyond R€gnicr. His renth satire, The Absurd Sup per, starts wirh an adaprarion of Homce, goes on to closc borrowings from Caporali, and ends realisrically .lvith an argument developing inro a fight. The nanator then escapes inro a Bad Lodging, described in rhe eleventh sarire rcith some masterly detail and some lascally reminisc€nces ol Perroniu\. 3 'l hecc are diflusc bur amu,ingty )ealj\ri, poems. Disgusr is more neatly and wittily expressed, although \eirh far more restraint, in Boileau's third sarirc, The R;d.iculous MeaL The rmdiLion of the dismat dinncr later passed into the semi-satirical or satirical nov€l: for example, $e \,'eneerinqs' banqucr in chapler : of Dickens,s
Even olle episodc in a parry can be made into satire: even one moment, one aspect so apparently trivial as the design of the guests' monocles,lihen seen by Marcel Prorrst. I The Nlarquis de lorestelle's monocle rl'as tiny and rim' Iess, and since it constrained his eye-in $'hich it lvas encrusted like a suPerlluous carritage bizane of substance anal inexPticable of Pr€sence-to clench itself incessantly and agonizingly, it gave his face a melancholy refrnement, and made $omen think him capable of sufiering deep pangs of love. Bui that of N{. de Saint' ' Candd, surrsunded by an enormous, a Saturnian ring, '$/as the centre of gmvity of those features rvhich kept rearranging themselves around it, a quivering red nose and protrusive sarcastic liPs rvhich strove to distort themselves inro grimaccs as striking as th€ briuianl flrework shower of $'it rrhich sparkled hom his crystal disc, a face more attractive than the handsomest eyes in the world to snobbish and degenerate young rvomen ho saw in ir a promi'e ol drrifi, ial d.liglrrs 3nd \olrrprrrour
.222.
.223'
succeeded, as in Evelyn Waugh, by the Painful Party
"Oh, Nina, ula, d lot ol Parties."
(. . . Masked parties, Savage Parties, \rictorian Parties, Greek parties, Wild west Parries, Russian Parties, Circus parties, parties where one had to dress as somebody else, almost naked parties in St. John's Wood, parties in fiats and studios and houses and ships and horels and nighl clubs, in rvindmills and srvimming baths, . dull dances in London and comic dances in Scotland al1d disgusting dances in Paris-all that successio and repetition of massed humanity.. . Those vile bodies.. .)"
TEE DlSIOR'rlNG MlRROR is as ahough some foreign observer oI American mores were to desc be Diamond Jim Brady who began dinner with a quarr of orange juice and three dozen oysters and gJ!e hi, m;\rress Lilli.rn Ru.qc a eojJ-ptdrFd Lr,1, q q,.;,h jerveled hub(aps a, a rypiiat Ame-i.dn genrteman tr is
hard to see how any scholar could make this misrake, since even the disrepurable heroes of perionius consLanrly find themselves amused but revolted, and finaly run away from Trimalchiot mansion in disgust."' Bur some philologists, alrhougl, .lilled in rhc ,ubrterie, ot trnguage. hare iirLle oPpotuniry, and even aprirude, for obseNing the nua[ces of social betravior; and rhis is the penatry of the satidsr_ he cxaggerares and selects, bua he pretends ro be relling the trurh, and simple-minded readers rake him tirerally. In modern times I believe it was the clever Italian saririsr Iranc€sco Berni (ra9?/B-r585) $,ho, wirh ironic descriptions of rhe lovely peaceful rime of rhe plague and rhe beauties of the chamberyor, inrroduced rhe technique of satiric photogmphy. He had many Italian foltowers, notably Cesare Capomli (r5Sr-16()1), rvho rvas admired and imi, taled by the fi$t French satidst in rhis sryle, Marhu n Rdgnier (rb73.r6r3). I cannot trace the theme of ihe ex crucialingly disagr€eable dinner-party back, in the Renais, sance, beyond R6gnier. His renth satire, The Absurd, Sup prr, starts with an adapratior of Holace, goes on to closc bouorvings from Caporati, an.l ends realisricaly wirh an argument developing into a 6ghr. The narrator then es_ capes into a Bad Lodging, described in the elevenrh sarirc with some masrerly detail and some rascallv reminiscences ol Pe11onius.'3 '1 hese are difluse bur amu,ingt; real;sri, poems. Disgustis more nearly and rrittily expressed, atthough I'ith far more restrainr, in Boileau,s third satire, The Ilid;culous MeaL The rradirion of rhe disinal dinncr laLer passed inro the s€misarirical or satirical novel: tbr example, rhe V€nee nqs'banquet iD chapter 2 of Dick€nis
.222,
7RE D]37ORTING MIRROR tOut Mutual Friend, \'fticllis stamPcd as satirical by the very names of the guests-Lady Tippins, the Podsnaps, Boots, Brerver, and two stufied Bu{ters, all atrended by a descdbed as the Analytical Chemist. With modem ges in manners and sttles of entertainment, it has now been succeeded, as in Evelyn Waugh, by the Painful Pariy.
I I
zr,4at d lot ol Parties." (. . . Maskecl parties, Savage Parties, Victorian parties, Creek parties, lvild west Parries, Russian Parties, Circus parties, parlies wher€ one had to dress as somebody else, almosa naked parties in St. John's Wood, Parties in flats ancl studios and houses and ships and hotcls and night clubs, in windmills and swimming baths, . . dull dances in London and comic dances in Scorland ard disgusting dances in Paris-all that succession and repetition of
"Oh, Nina,
humanity... Those vile bodies.. )ia Even one episode in a party can be made into satire; even one moment, one aspect so apparently trivial as the mass€d
design of the guests' monocles,lvhen seen by Marcel Proust.
The Marquis de lorestell€\ monocle was tnry and rim' less, and since it constrained his eye-in which it !t'as encrusted like a supernuous carlilage bizane of substance and inexPlicable of Presence-to clench itself incessantly and agonizingly, it gave his face a melancholy refinement, and made women think him capable of strfiering cteep panBs of love. But that of NL de Saintcand€, surrounded by an enormous, a Saturnian dng, was the centr:e of gravity of those features \'\'hich kePt rearranging themselves around it, a quivering red nose and protrusive sarcastic liPs rvhich strove to distot themselves into grimaces as striking as the briUiant frre_ work sho$'er of rvit hich sparkled from his crystal disc, a face more atlncdve than the handsom€st eyes in the rvorld to snobbish and degenerate young r{omen *'ho sarv in it a promise of artifrcial delights and voluPtuous
.223.
THE DlSTORTING MIRROR refinemenb; hile behind his monocle M. de Patancy, round-eyed and huge-headed like a cary, slorvly passed through all this gaiety, from moment to moment un-
THE DISTOIITING MIRRAR
clenching his jarvs as though aftempting to orienr himselt, and looking as iI he carded &'ith him an accidenralty detached, perhaps wholly synbolic, fragment of rhe glass of his own aquarium.5.
It is also possible to wdle satiic description in the {orm of more or: less loosely connect€d character-sketches, One of the most famous Renaissance satires is liftle more thar a series of portmits of contempomry types, all identified and desc bed as fools, althouSh all (in rheir o n eyes and the eyes oI most contempomries) quite normal. This is The Ship of Foals (1494) by Sebasrian Brant. Although his central idea was ao describe the r{'orld as a ship manned by fools and steered tolvard rhe fools' paradise of Nanagonia (Narr is the cerman for "fool"), his book has no plor and no continuous storyr it amounrs simply !o a group of mildly amusing bua disconnected lirerary caricarures. The long parade of evil and har€ful tvives which forms Juvenal's pageant of bad I'om€n (Satire 6) is a series of portraits done in rhis marmer.It has had many descendaflrs. One, particularly remarkable, is a prose satire by Boccaccio, called II Carbaccio (which probably means The Courbash, The Heary WhiP) or The Lab,ttinth of Loue.He ..!tnote it in 1355, when he rvas over forty and beginning to feel his age.It is so inknsely pe$onal rhat I{'e cannor stricdyclassify it as belonging to any one rype of sarire. However, its core is a satirical monologue, based on Juvenal's sixth sarire, and combining many of its portnits of bad women into one sinister: and monstrous caricattre. Boccaccio, unhappy and humiliated by a capricious vidow whom he loves, is visited by her dead husband, r'ho has been released from
'224.
rlom Branas sni? ot l.,,rJ, 1!91 ediihn
(r lnrfs l.Gimi&,
relr)
THE DISTORTING MlRROR puryatory to save Boccaccio from ril€ error he himself committed. The ghost delivers a long homily on rhe fotty of loving any woman (dirty, unchaste, quarrelsome, and cruel as they are) and the parricular folly of loving this parti, ular woman \l,o,e hnbir, hc dev ribes jn nauseating detail, with many direct quotarions frcm Juvena1."6 (Ir makes an odd parallel to Boccaccio's early love-story, FiamTratrd, in which he sublimated his own agonies ovcr the cruelty ot his beloved Maria d Aquino by rniring, (^r) in which a young girl suffered from her tover's cruetty.) Thi. i\ one of r long \Fries ol .arirer on rvomen. rvrirren by embittered men who rvished to shor{, that, although $iomen are outwardly artractive, they are really, when known intimately, monst€rs of filth and horror. Such is the sow-woman of Semonides. Such is the €nchanrress ol Lucretius against whom the rrue Epicurean musr harden his heart.
Alter all, there are oth€rs; we lived withour her belorer after all, 6he doe, (and we know ir) rh€ same as rhe usties: .he mdkeq hFr ot{n qe"r\. poor rtrinS. rp\o,r;ng.m,. s whi.h pur Ier maids ro Righr. gig:ling behind rheir haDd'. Mearwhile the wretched lover, locked outside, and weeping,
€oven her haughty door wirh flow€ry wr€aths, and deais its posts $'ith perirme, and plants kisses on its planks. Yei if he were let in, and mer, as he advanced, one single breeze, he would excus€ hims€lf and leavc, dropping lir lonB rompldinrc ol clur lry .nd wrone. drmning hiq okn srupidiry berau"e he rhoughr his lady more than mortal, superhumaD, a goddess.n
?HE DIS?OR?IIVG MIRROR hcaps ot soakin8 is that a ta€e, or an ulcerTrg fr€sh from the oven, dough
aith patent medications and widr
The Clrristians took it over from the pagan satirisrs, and used it in a thourand years o{ denouncing women after the manrer of Flamlet: "God hath given you one [ace, and you makc younelves another."5'o AdaPling the topic to the civilities of the baroque era, Boileau introduced into ir some tmty charming efiects of oxymoron. Dans sa chambre, crois'moi, n'entte point tout le jour. Si tu veux pos#der ta Lucrece I ton tour, Anends, discret ma , que la belle en comette Le soir ait 6ral€ son teint sur la toilette Et dans quatrc mouchoirs, de sa beautd salis, Envoie au blanchisseur ses roses e! ses 1ys.00
Dean Swift\ pathological horror of the human body and in particular of irs excretory functions would have made it dimcult for him to love even a healthy, well-exercised, well; bathed, scenLless Grcek beauty; but, surounded by the I lazy, un\\'ashed, flea-bitten \\'omen of the eighteenLh cen_ aury, r{ho covered rheir smells {'ith perfumes and their pimples $'irh "beauty patches," he rvas driven nearly insane rvirh disgust at the $ought of €xploring a lady's dressing'
Bur ohl ir turncd poor Srephon's bolt€ls,
The same theme was raken up and made more concrere and more grotesquely comic by Juvenal:
When he beheld and lmelt the towels: Beg!$mcd, bemattered, and b€slimed, n;rh di . and !qea[. and ea, war grimed. No bbject Strephon's eye €scapes; Here petticoats in ftowsy heaps. Nor be the handkerchiefs {orgot, All vanished o'er witb snufi and snot.'1
Meanwhile, a foul and funny spectacte, her face bulges plastered with br€ad or swears with lar Poppaean crcam lotion, viscid on the lips of her poor husband. she only i l€an\ hFr l/,er^\;(irlcrlo\.r... Listen, that thing, so ovcrlaid, so richly poulriced
The eighteenth cenlury. That was lhe era r{hen a lady of the Fr€nch court lvould have an enema administered to her rvhile she was chatting with h€r guests. That $,as the em. when Lady Mary wordey Moncagu, on being told
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A MTRRAR that Lcr hands were rndrer dirry, replied, "You should see my feetl" This kind of liremry satire is very close to sarire in the visual arts, r'hich althoug-h it is a heavy inadequaLe word-il g€nerally called caricature. In the Nliddie Ages, not only preachers in the pulpit and Goliards in rhe ravern, but sculptors in the carhedral produc€d satirical representations of vice and lolly personilied in hlrman (and even in animal) form. Lustlul ladies and greedy merchanb and proud prelates, .seen by critical eyes and carved lvittr loving haded, still look down on us lrom the walls and columns of many a Gothic carhedral. During the Renaissance rhe greatest artisrs enjoyed crearing satire through picrurcs. Leonardo dre$' groresque and comically hideous frces wiih the same loving care as a sainL or a madonna, and Diirer\ illustrations for Brant\ Shi.t, ol Foolt are acLually more cffecdve tlan Brant's lirale poems. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries seveml fine artists plrt all or most of their energy into caricature. For eighreen years, LouisPhiljppe, the heavy-jorvled 'cirizen king" of France, l{,as cari.atrLr€d as a gross bulbous pear. With a coarsely vigor, ous sense of humor, a strong moral sense, and a hearry contempt for the follies of mankind, Hogarrh, Rowland son, Cillray, Cruikshank, Gavarni, crandvillc, and the marvelous Daumier drew scenes of conremporrry life whiclr fuliillcd every possible requiremcnt of the genus latire, and indeed surpassed in energy most of rhe poets of their T I]
D IS'IO RT IN
Onc of Hoeartht masterpieces is a pair of pictures,
,,cin
Lane" and "Beer Srreet" (rtbr), showing th€ contrasring e|il and good social clTecrs oI chcap spirits and sound Eng, lish beer. Alt}rcugh every dehil in 'cin Lane" is realisdc nnd could no doubt be docrrmented from conremporary recordr, Lhe accumlrlntion o[ horrors produces rhe exasgeration and distortion typical of satirei and besides, therc
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1s'o monks, satiricallt portmyed on the tombs ol the Duk$ of Bordcaui: onc pcr'onil),ng p,idc. rhe orl-".. \i(h h's pur.F. dvari,c Gothi. s:ulptrie, Cath.drrl of Bou4es thotoglaph by GiraudrD, ?ari3
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THE DISTOR'f ING MIRROR here and there throughout the picnrre, touch€s of but undeniably comical humor. Gin Lane," Hogarth catled ii. It uas a real place, a n slum kno$'n as the Ruins of St. Giles. Mosr oI the
ings we see in the picture are ramshackle. One is ally collapsing as we look. Only four places of business visible: an undertaker's, a distiller's, a parvnbroker's, in the cellxr a dram-shop, bearing rhe advertising rvhich has become Iamous in histories ol Ensland: Dmnk for a Penny Dead drunk lor two pence Clean Strav for Nothing.
lull of activiry,
pervelse, painful, and absurd. te centml ngurc is a young slarrernly womar lvho may Cudging by the bone stmcrure of her face) have been me. She is now a hopeless rvreck, ryearing nothing loose gown irdecently open and a rag on her head. Ia ic scene is
Iegs and face are scarred, perhaps nith syphilitic . lVith a smirking affectation of aristocratic none, she is taking snuff, rvhile her baby boy, r'ho has stretching and fidgeling in her arrns, falls unnoticed the banister into the area. Neverth€less. shc is comi.al. a satirical incongruity. The figure beside her is tstly: a living skeleton kept alive only by drink, and thi\ momFnr un.on{iou\. He 5e€m5 lo be an irincranr and seller of ballads (one of Nhich is hanging from basler\, but he i. \o bc,ored rlrirrre La. ld\\ned shin, ngs, and $,aistcoat, and wcars nothing but sho€s, an open , oar. and a shapeles har. He i' mor ibund. frrst cold nighl will kill him, unregrefted by all excepr dog, r4rich stares gtoomily at his nipperkin. The third foreground frgure is Mr. Cripe the pawnbroker, rvho ing to think hor'little he can offer Ior a carpenter's and his Sunday coat, vhile a ragged !\'oman (the nter's wife?) waits in turn to olTer h€r cooking,pot and
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D
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M 1 RRO R
tea-kettle. Thes€ two are giving up the effort of living decently, and will soon be destitute. In lrcnt of them is a man so truly destitute ahat he is sharing a bone rvith a cur, and a woman so stupefied that a snail is exploring het arm. In the middle distanc€, grea. jollification. A woman is dosing her baby with a slug of gin to keep it quic!; an ol(l woman, so drunk she must be wheeled hom€ in a barrow, tu being given one for the road by her daughter or daughter.
inlar'.
In the background, two young crealures, chantrl-Birl$ from St. Gilest church, are pledging each orher in gin. A pair of cripples are fighting savagely, watched by a crold gathered round the disdllery door. Lurther back, threc rorp.es: a b:rbe,. l,xnqcd in his ohqr rujno,,s garrer: ,r child (appar€ntly fallen out of rtindo$') impaled on a spir carried by a roistering cook; a beautiful young woman, sadly wasted, being coffined beside a weeping child. In thc remoter distance, ruinous houses and a tall, pompous, baroque monument. It would be possible to translate lhe sordid details anil grotesque ov€mll eflect of "Gin Lane" into a satire of I hundred co{rplets; bul unless the coupleLs were by Swifl or Bpon, the poem rvould be inlerior rc .he piccure. Srvilt himself described the Irish Parliament as a mob of lunad.$ in Bedlam, and then, leith unexpected but nol unjusti6c{l modesty, called o11 Hogarth for his collaboration. How I nant thee, humorous Hogarll Thou, I hear, a pleasant rogue art, Were but yod and I acquainted, Ev€ry monster should be paintcd; You should try your gmving tools Or this odious group of {oolsi Drau the beasts as I d€scribe 'emr Iorm their teatures, while I gibe 'em, Dmw them like, {or I assure yon, You wiU Decd no Car'catura."'
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Hoga.th
r Cin
Ln ne
CONCLUSION
Asr of all, a few.fundamental definitions and descriptions.
. NAM! The
name ..sarire,' comes froin the Larin ra_trla, which means p maily,.fu11," and then to_mean "a m.ixtu,re full ofdifierent ihin8s.,'It seems nave been pafl ol rhc ro.abula,y ol Lood. We have rhe rpc oI a \or r ol salad I xlled rald/di a dish tull ot mixed its of{ered to rhe gods l{,as called lan} saturai a\d yenal, no doubr in allusion ro rhis strain of meaning, ls his satires by the name of anorher mixed food, laryagi, T.::|;:'gjb "o-J.gr*itl giv€n to- catrte. other types oi-l-teralre have been given food names: ..farce" mean-s. .lllqfiing,,, !!a:9-Jli9'l poegy was a crude ,"a "'J original "r ruri"name a1. and so forth.' The essence of th€ :fore was variety-plus a cctain alown_to,ear:th natulal_ s, or (oarscne5s. or Un,ophjsricared hea)riness. Ler rhe h and refined ha]ve thefu truite au bleu and breast ol lnea-hen. Th€ ordimry man likes st€$,, or fish chowder, minestrone, ot pae\a, or pot,aufeu, or garbure, or a itterol rn ired i uld , utr rr irh pir |es and por o-s?lad and couple ol slicc\ oi (heese, in fa\t a satuta. To be rr e, Irefore, co id original derivation and first conceprior, a ire musr be varied, it must be large enough ro till the l, and it musr be coarse and hearty. Flighty stylized, te. and \opl,isri,ated sdrires hive been \rirrcn. of rse pardcularly in the field ot parody_The R&fe ol Zo.li is a lirrle masterpiece oI aristocratic satire: bur !y are LrnrypicaL, almosr paradoxi(al. The name has norhints ro do uirh tt,e Lrcek being\
fr
coNcLusroN called satyrs, shaggy crearures parrly human and paflly bestial, otten rudely Boatish in their behavior. They arr, neler mentioned in connection wirh sarire by Romans (lt by Greeks (except by one late cdtic, ard in some ve$io of the title of Petronius's book). The spelling rafird ol rdl)ra only came in long afrer th€ classical period, largcly \o rhar rlrolari iuuld erplain rhe.ho,king.orr,ene\r,,t satire by saying thar ir was inspired by the funny obsccrrr, satyr,folk., We knory who 6rsr wrote poems and called rhem rdrur4r, "medleyJ': ir $'as Ennius, the Chaucer of Roman poetry, But long before him;tl€ Romans were enjoying somerhi they called rdlurae. These I'ere variety shorvs on the sragr,'{ They were not real plays, because rhey had no conrinrity and no sustained plots: rhe higher art of dramaturgy hrrrl still to be brolrght in from the Greek rvorld. They wr.rr, apparently groups of "turns" or: "skits" rvirh dialoAllf (doubtless mainly comical and often spicy) and dancirfi and imitarion of real-life siruations: rhe same sort of lorv grade entertainment rhar ahvays hits the taste of the olrll nary public, rrhether it is called vaudeville, or revue, or the latcst Saturday evening television strow. Ar firsr rl)(\r, shorvs were improvised by amateurs; later rhe professiorlli aook them over. At their highest, they may have been r:alh(.| like the Italian commedia d.ell' drts, which also retil1l heavily on improvisation alrhough tlrc commedia hat n single basic plot or nnge of ptots, and owed something ro the sophisticated Greek and l"arin comedy. There is o|ty one really eood ancicnr aurhority 1,,'ho says anyrhing at),,It these "dramatic r.rtume," and some scholars rhink his sour, r, invented ttre $,hole rhhg, in order ro give che poor rrrr cultivated Romans a sort of originaL primirive drama corrr sponding to the eariy srages of Greek drama.3 But rtrr, Italiins had a narive talent and liking for exacrly this hirxl of shorv, improvised vcrse dialogue, competitions in crrrrrrr
CONCLUSIOM Abuse and scurriliLy, mimicry: anct ir sounds extremely likely that shows of this kinct did exist. perhaps they contained liftle scenes oI chearing and thieving, comparabie ln a smatl way to those which appeared laier in iegutar comedy with Plautus. Almosr cer:tainly there were char_ lcter-slerches ol real personr or ot rype5. and joles abour local peculiarjries-tor rhese rhjngs appear, highl) de_ veloped. in Nae\;us, rhe hrsL orie;nal Romdn (omir dlamatist.. Therefore, when Ennius called his poems &itrrue, he meant not only thar they rrere a mixed dish of simpte coare lngredienrs, buL that they grerv out of an improvised jollification hich .$'as (although devoid of ptQ dramatic, tince it mimicked aDd made fun of people ind their rvays, tnd contained dialogue sung or spoken. All or mosr of rhese clements have remained constant in mosr satire: variety, down ro-earrh un.ophi.ri,ation. .odrsene.s, an imp,ori\;_ lory.tone, humor, mimicry, echoes of rbe speaking voice, lbusivF Bibing. anLl a generJt teelinB. redt or a,\umcd, ot devil-md)-.arF nor, h3lan' c. \Vhen Lu, itius \ar rve ( r\ in ihc seconcl chapter) adcted ro rhis salry m€lange the vinegar end pepper of pe$onal artd sociat cririchm, sarire assumed It$ true and nnat naturc.
l. FUNcTToN The funcrion of ratire has been variousty, and never quite satisfacrodly, defined. Since it did nor €xisr in creek m a clearly marked selrarare genus o{ lir€rarure, there is no
creek discussion of irs narure comparable to Aristorle,s Inaly.is ol llJScdy. Alenip!'r,. rhF C1nt, slro .rrirized Olher philo\ol,l,eA, w:r d .d o-ou6o.y€lo,oq. ..rhe mdn Who jokes abour serious things."r This combinarion of jesr lnd eamest is a permanenr mark oI sariric writing, but it Cnnnot be callcd irs firnction. ft is the central ,n€irod of ntire.
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aoNar,tlstoN Horace is apparently translating
"to tell the truth, laughing": after saying so he continues rvidr a serious, though lightly phrased, di$. cussion of a social and ethical problem.d He has therefore says he wants
moved from lhe merhod of satire to its purpose, or one ol its purposes, combined with one of its melhods. The saririst, though he laughs, rells rhe trurh. Many satirists repeat this. But often they declare rhat
their truth is what people do nor want to hear. Persius, after saying that Lucilius spoke out boldly and Honce tact. fully, goes on:
I mustn't whisper? in privare? into a hole? noahere? Y.r here I li bury ir. Book, I m)'eif hivc seen ir: everyone has a pair of ass's earsl This sccret, this laugh of mine, this nothing, I will sell for no
Iliad.ll Juvenal asserts that the trurh which is his subject,mat(rr is so easy to see that he need only walk rhrough the srreeu of Rome, or stand at a busy crossing wirh a notebook.s Bu[ for him truth is limited to the rdumph of \a'icledness. Inr. mediately afrer stating da. all human life from the days ot rhe Flood is' the fanago ot his book. he .r;es And when was ther€
a
cher crop oI vices?"
Soon afterward he adds that ro tell rhese trurhs, naming names or even saying /'Thacs lhe man," is dangerous, an(l
rvill bring the satirist to a fearful death. He determircn therefore to describe vice and crime, r,hich are permanenl, endemic, in Rome, bur to use rhe names of scoundrel$ long dead $'hen describing rhem.'" Therefore when the satirist claims to be telling the trurh, he may m€an that he is trying to help his friends and ttrt public by giving th€m valuable advice and warnings which they need, or that he is bringingout, into the open, scandal$ which would horrify the world iI they were seen irr rh.
'234.
t of cruel d4. If the frrst, he expects the rruth to do ; if the secod, he expects it to hurt rrrany people and hinneU.
here ar€, thm, two main conceptions: of the purpose tire, and tw0difiercnt iypes of satirisr- - One likes most but thinis they are rather blind ; and foolish. He the truth $ih a smile, so that he willll not repel them cure them olthar ;gnorance which is r:treir worst fault. is Horace The other type hates rrnost people, or them. He believes rascality is triiumphant in his ; or he sa. wirh Sni{r, rhar Ihou8l l-r he toves indihe dete$ mankind. His aim the-:refore i. nor ro but to wourd, to pun;h, to destrcy. Such is Juvenal. two typ6 have diflerent beliek abour c!il. The nthropic sa dst believes it is rooted ; in man,s nature in the structure of society. Nothing c:an eliminate or it, Man, orihe particular gang of mis6erabte manikins are ulder hiscrutiny, deserves only socorn and hated. laughs at tlem, it is not the laughier of feUor,-ship, is no joy in it, no healing warmth. He taughs rvith tempt at thei pretensions and incong:ruities and base isies. Th latirist is close to the tragledian. any a reader has turned away in rewulsion from his , asking, "14hy should he concentrate on such disgrsr subjects? Wlrt pleasure is there for h; im, or {or rls, in llng on these bul scenes?" Women in particular, rvith llr kind hearts,rre prone to make fiis cri iricism: very few lhem have everltritten, or even enjoyed,., satire, akholrgh have often treen its victims.r'But thtris is like asking the tmgic pet must show us only' the horrors of e suffering: the son kills his mosther, the loving thd strangfuihis faithful wife, the sav-.ior- of his people nded oi crudfied. For Sophocles or R.-acine the fundatal facr ofhunan life, so lar as ir can be pur into words, the hopeless ddeat of che best and nol'blest among Lrs:
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CONCLUSION martyrdom its own crown. The misanthropic satirist looh at life and finds ir, nor tmgic, nor comic, buc ridiculously contemptible and nauseatingly hateful. His vision mak$ his mission. This vierv of life, rath$ than the tragediant, is cto$c to that oI orthodox Christianity, rvhich holds that all pagallr and all heretics together with many professing though sinful Chdstians, rhe illimitably greater portion of tt)c human race, are doomed to eternal torment, and that thcy deserve it. As he thinks this, rhe Christian sighs. TIrr pessimisric satiist smiles a grim smile, or curls a conteml). tuous lip. The other type of satidst is an opiimist. He believcr that folly and evil are not innare in hrmanity, or, if th.t are, they are eradicable. They are diseases which can l){r cured. They are mistakes which can be corr€cted. To h{r sure, there ar:e many cruel and foolish people in every tinrr and every country. Some of them are incurable. l.et ul make waming examples of them, therelore, in order ro hellr all the others. lf we sholr our feltow men rhe painful an(l absurd consequences of certain types of conduct, personi. fred in Lady Slop and Lord Belial, no doubt these t.lvrr specimens rvill sufier when they are pinned down and dh. sected, but others rvilt be cured; and most peopte can lx. cured. This vierv can be traced back ro Socrates. He coll. stantly preached the simpl€ strange doctrine, ,,No one e $ willingly." Shted orhen'ise, "Virtue is knowledge." Merely undersrand what good really is, and you needs mus! lovc and follorv it. Sinners are nor devils, fallen forever. Thcy are men self-blinded, and rhey can open their eyes. Thr chief Greek philosophical schools fotlorved Socrates irr emphasizing the power of reason. If you understand, thcy said, you will do right. Ind€€d, you must do righr, if yol undeysrand. Only slrive ro see rhe trur\. Satirists such as Horace believe dris. Th€y are kindcr,
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tler, They persuade more than they denounce. They with wholesome laughter, oftener than they sneer, oftener than they shout and shake the fist and poinr finger. Ar Ihe urmo\r, rhcy will sdy rhar rhe world is . and tlhat a .omical ipe, racle ir make)l (Bur pessimistic satirist says lhe world is heu, why, this is l, nor are we out of it.) Usually they cut up a few ridicuor despicable people, in order to warn the rest, the jorirr. ol Iheir readers. If lheir sa(ire does prirk u5 ? tle more deeply than is comforaable, it is merely a hypoic: the pain and the swelling will generate heal&ful tibodies. Sinre rhere are rllo di\ereenr rvpe\ ol sariri\r, lhere are difierenr \ie\,'s ol rhe pu,poJe ot \arire. fhe oprimisr I :r in or.ler to heal. rhe pessimi,r in order to puni'lrJ is a physician, the other an executionet. One sees a ld in which the natural condition of man is healthough far too many of us spoil our metabolism by stuand catch diseases by carelessness; also, there are in typhoid-carriers and even reservoir,poisoners and peddl€n wande ng among us, \'vho must be found convicted and then put away. The other sees a world lated by recidivist criminals, incurable drug'addicts, bbering lunatics, ineducable morons, simian savages; full goats, monkeys, wolves, cobras, leeches, and lice, in form. For such a world there is no rem€dy. Some gone mad even lrom looking ar it. The pessimisric lirist, so that"he may not go mad, howls with savage on. hisses with hate. But the satirists refuse to be marshaled inro trvo armies, white and the black. They are wi ful and independent . The flag of satire is not particolored, whirc on one and black on the other. It is polychromaric. Sdtu n1 is . A single author will write one satire as an optimist, follow it by anorher of the bitterest pessimism. A be-
QONQLOSION ginning satirist will erupt like a Paicutin with a rhunderingfountain o{ boiling lava, searing all it touches and petrifying black over the rnins and the corpses; but then, some years larer, the fire-shott€n clouils have rolled away, and the mountainside (although stiU grimly wrinkled) begins to smile lvith new lush grow&, In a singte book, even in a single page, we can see th€ multiple emotions of a satirist struggling against one another for mastery; and ukimately it is this ferment of repulsion and attmction, disgust and delight, love and loathing, which tu the secret of his misery and his pow€r.
3. MOTIVES The motives of the sati
st? They are as complex as the emotions he wishes ao evoke, as various as the forms rvith which he works.
First, he is ah'ays mov€d by peBonal hatred, scom, or condescending amusement. Frequently he disclaims this, and asserts that he has banished all personal feelings, ihar he is rvriting only lor the public good. Bur he al$'ays has a rankling grudge, however well he ties to conceal it, or a t$,itch of contempt, however grace{ully he tums ir into a smile. He diff€rs from the writer of acknowledg€d harepoetry (such as Hipponax) in that he contdves ro generalize and iustify his hostility, and usually to make his readers share it.'" A whole book could be written ro unnvel rhe curious links between a satir:ist's subjects and his private
QONCLUSION when, dusty and dishevelled, he returns. He says he has been in the attic. On the wall he saw a large map of France, divided into i$ eighty-six re8ional "deparrments,,, each , with its own shape, like a conglomemrion of srrange liviflg I beings. The to$ns in each deparlmenr gaze our like eyes. And tno of rhese eyes, says BCnin, have a nasty expression: disrespectful, even hosrile. He takes his friends to the attic, and shows them rhese malevolent urban eves. It is tru€: they seem ro squinr, to leer at the onlooker. Are the lriends to endrrre this inrulr pasrively? Nol Relriburion mu)t be sought. Revenge must be rvreaked. The torvns are Issoir€ and Ambert. They musl suffer for it. And, in the rest of this gay satire, suffer they do. Issoire and Amberr are real places: remore little rowns in the center of France. Apparently the friends have chosen them through a humorous whim, ro be the subject of a "gratuitous acr" of satire. Any other little provincial towns would have been equally appropiare victims. Les Copains are Parisians, making fun of the provinces. So it seems, So the book reads. Norhing, surely, could be more Parisian and sophisricated than its aurhor, Jules Romains, of whose g€nial imagination the friends ar€ Projections. Yet if we look up his biography, rve find thar he is not a native Padsian. He rvas born at Sainr Julien-Chapreuil, which is a tiny place in rhe Auvergne, about fifty mites
life. Ior instanceThousands of readers have been delighted by the rough but ingenious practical jokes rvhich a little group oflriends, in Jules Romaint no\el The PnIs, play upon two small French towns. The towns, i! seems, are chosen at nndom. The pals are in a Montmartre resraurant, drinking and making jokes. B6nin, the gayesr of rhem, go€s a liftle roo far. The othe$ throre him out, regret it, and rvelcome him
.238,
countrifred and even funny ("farigoule fait rigoler,,, he must have been told when he went to Paris). Therefore his novel is Dot only a Padsian's sarire on the backwardness of the provinces, but a provincialt mocking revenge on i his own odgins. Or consider Rabelais. Much of the First Book describes a telrible war between Gargantua's farher Grandgousier
CONCLOSION (Bigthroat) and the n€ighbodng King Picrochole (Bitterbile), ending in a glorious victory for Gargantua commanding his father's army. lt reads like a parody of all grand heroic warfare: even Gargantua's address to the defeated enemy is modeled on a speech by the Roman emperor Trajan, and contains allusions to recent histodcal events such as Charles VIII'S subjugation of Brittany. But in fact the war is a comical exaggeration of a dispute befiveen Rabelais' own father and a neighboring landowner over certain fishing and water rights in the river Loire; even the minor characte$ bear the names of men who were involved in the la$'suit; and the cities and fortresses of the war are all tiny places near Rabelais' own home.'3 Therefore crandgousier is Rabelais' father, Picrochole is the rancorous neighbor, and GargantuaA noticeably large lrumbff of satirists have been impelled by a rankling sense of personal inferiority, of social injustice, of exclusion from a privileged group. Menippus was a slave. Bion's faLher was a slave and he himself was sold into slavery. Hor:ace's fath$ was a slave, alLhough Hor.ace rvas born free. Pope lvas a Catholic in a Protestana England ('hich penalized all Papiats. Lucian was a Gr€ekspeaking Syrian. Swift and Jotce were Anglo-hishmen; Byron, Orwell, and Waugh, Anglo-Scots. (Byron, though he called himself an "English bard," was brought up in Scotland speaking broad Scots. George Orwell's real name wa"s Eric Blair: his family background was Scottish and he spent his last yeafi in Scotland. Evelyn Waugh's farher was an Edinburgh publisher, and his elder brcther is called Alec; he also sufiered from going to a not-very-good public school and a not-very-good Oxford college, and he is a Roman Catholic convert.) Pope was tiny and painfuily deformed; Boileau $ras nervous and sickly; Ceffantes had a maimed hand; Byron had a crippled foot. Juvenal, Cer,
'240.
CONCLUSION vantes, Gogol, and Padni werc all men of talent forced into careers which they felttobe uselcss or degmding. In fact, most satirisls seem to belong to one of two main class€s. Eifier they were bitlerly disappoint€d early in life, and see ihe world as a permanent structure of injustice; or thel are happy men of ovedowing energy and vitality, who see the rest of manfund as poor ddiculous puppets only half-alive, flimsy fake and meager scoundrels. Such are Aristophanes and Rat€lais and Lucilius and Tassoni and Petronius and Dryden and Quevedo and Browning Campbell and Abnham a Sancta Clara. But there is al$rays one person, or on€ type, or one g;oup, or one social class, or one national structure, on which the satidst focuses nosr of his amusement and his loathing, and from whom he derives the strength to geneElize and vivify his r'orl.
Th€ second impulse is openly avowed by many satirists. They vrish to stigmatize crime or ridicule folly, and rhus to aid in diminishing or removing ic. "The true end of satire," says Dryden, "is the amendment of vices by corr€ction." He goes on to saythat the frank satirist is no more an enemy Lo the offender .han rhe phycir ian ic an enemy to his parient, when he prescdb€s a harsh remedy to make surgery unnecessary.l' That may not be unive$ally, or even commonly, true; but at least the !rst, the general statement, is cllrect. If the satirist is ironical, he avows it in reverse. ("Young my lord," says Parini deferenrially, "let me explain the full beauty and importance of Your Grace's daily routine.") Ifnot, he makes it explicit, either in prologues and epilogu$, or at imporaant points of the text. Thus at the very end of Cervantes' masrcrpiece, Don , Quixote dictates his ill, and leaves all his property to his niece, on condition that, it she marries a man rvho knows .241 .
CONCLUSION anything whatsoever about romances oI chir,alry, the entire Iegacy will go to charily. Aesthetic, in a strange way, is the third motive. It is rhe pleasure which all arrists and wdters feel in making their orvl1 special pattem, manipulating their chosen maredal. The parrerns ol saLire. as we hjve 5eeo. are inreresring because they are so complicated. Any wrir€r lvho sers our to use them musr be attlacted by their difrculties. He needs a huge vocabulary, a lively florv oI humor: combined wirh a .rrong seriou\ poinr o[ \'ierv. an imaginalion ,^ brisk that it $'i11 ahvays be several jumps ahead oI lris reade$, and taste good enough to allorv him ro say shock_ ing things without making the reader turn a ,ay in disdain, as one does from an obscene gramto on a wall. Unless h€ is rvriting a parody (in which case his paftern is already given) he must appear to be improvising, and yec afiord us the satisfaction, when rve reflect on his work, of,ecing an underlying strrcture. There is a paradox in this aspecr of the satirists work. Most arrisrs like to paint handsome men, beautiful women, rich landscapes, positive energetic forms and text[Tes, Few can look at .and immortalize on canvas the contents of a garbage can, the colon of an open sore, the lingering currcnts of a stream of sewage. yet the saririsr musr do rh;\. He enioyj ir. For trim, a rorren fr5h \hin;nq and stinking in a dark pantry is more fascinating ahan a; openjnB rose: a rabble ot I d I q fighring o\ er r .orpse is more compelling than a s\{,ar:m of bulterflies dancing ov€r a meadow; the senseless boasting of a dandiprat and the serpentine evasions of a polirician enthrall him more than a rvise man teaching or a lovely girl singing. Such is his material. Out of that, $'ith a cudous mixture of love and hate, he makes rhe pattern 'hich is sarire.
.242.
Fourth is a motive which is not operarive for all sarirists: the pessimists will not admit it, the jokers seldom think about it. Still, certair satir€s gain greatly from it. They are protreptic. Not only do they denounce in such a way as to warn and to deter. They give positive advice. They set up an exemplar to copy. They state an ideal. Thus, in his fifth satire, Juvenal describes a dependent's dinner in a greac nobleman's house: a hideous evening, bad food, worse lvine, deliberate humiliarions. No moml is dra\{n, except that it would be betrer to beg in th€ streets. But in his eleventh poem! after a short inrroducrion on the absurdities of Roman gourmandise, he invites a friend to a quiet dinner in his o\r'n home, and describes th€ modest but tasteflrl menu. Although the satire contai+s some keen points of criticism, its srrongest part is irs positive statemenr of the ideal of moderarion, that healthy tEnquil retiring pleasure which is truly Epicurean. So also Rabelais 6rst describes, with much ludicrous and sordid detail, a thoroughly ill-bred youfi, Pdnc€ cargantua, talented and energeric but allorLed to grow vulgar and stupid; then he puts him under a new teacher: and describes his ideally good education.ls So later, after the war against King Bitterbile has been described, with much blood and many wounds. Rabelais explains the constitulion of the victorious Gargantua's new foundarion, rhe Abbey of Thelema, rvhich is an ideal society for handsome and ctrltivated young ladies and gentlemen. A]rhough some are too enibittered, others too convulsed rvith laughter, to give voice to their positive beliefs, all satirists are at heart idealisrs.
Hail, Satiret Hail, clear'eyed, sharp{ongued, hor-t€mp€rcd, outlvardly disillusioned and secretly idealistic Musel .243.
AONCLOSION Mother of Comedy, sister of Tlagedy, defender and citic of Philo'ophy. haill You are a diffi.u r comPanion. a mis tress sometimes elusive and tantalizing, sometimes harsh and repellenr: bur in yolrr mercur;al plesence no one is ever bored. Stupiditt Self-satisfacdon, Corruption, the Belief in lneviLable Progress-these and odrer intellectual monsters, produced spontaneously Irom lhe \'\aste energy of the human mind, you have destroyed again and a9in. Still chey are reborn, and still you arise to destroy them. Sathe sufiereth not long, and is unkind. Satire envieth not, but do$ not admire. Satire vaunteth not ibelf and is not pufted up, but God help lhose rvho vaunt thehselves. Satire is easily provoked and thinketh much evil; rejoiceth no! in iniquity, but exulteth in its overthrc'lv; beareth very lirtle, believeth very little, hopeth very little, endureth only so that iL may overcom€. Hail to Satirc, the tenth Muse, whose face is nol, like those of hel sisters, serene and symmetrical, but bears the wrinkles ofa grimace which is either thc constant laughter of Demoo:itus or ihe constant rea$ of Heraclirus or an effort to endure them borh; &'ho is not so devoled to building immortal works as to curing .he endemic ills of.human beings; and who nevertheless often creates one oI her own peculiar master" pieces, a portrait which has a beating heart within and which, uhen we look into its eyes, seems to be a reflection, distorted rvith pain, of our own soul.
ABBREVIATIONS TIII
names ot periodicals and srandard works of reference are abbreviated according to the sysrem set ont hf tl\e Amer;can Jaulnal al Archaeolog it 1958r CP : Classi.al Philolagr, PL : Nligne, Patrclogie Lat;na, ,.nd so on. Orl,er abl,r"\ iJrion. are rhp 1\"ll I no$ n jur ! j\or) ot Lalinr cf. : compare, init. - beginn;ng, med. : middle,6n. cnd, ibid. : in Lhe same book or in the same passagc; c. means both chapter and circa (about).
.945. . 244 .
NorEs
4
I. INTRODUCTlO N r. Juvenal r.5,-57 and 6.634 66r. Juvenal 3.?3rr18 and r5416,. Although appaiendy inlolnal, this 6ne pa$age covers an entire twenty four-hour day in |hc city, Irom the sleeple$ night (rgr"rj8) drough exrty morning G39{48) aDd the ltrn.h hour G192sq) to lhe afiernoon lush G5a,6?) and so into lhe horrors ot a metropolitan ercning (16830r) and night
,.
(3or 3,a). 3. Hobbes,
I€,utfrar, Part r, c. 13. 4. Popc, Dxn.iad 3.tott 1,t. b. Glbbon, Decline and Fall ol the Rohdn Embirc,.. 7i6. Pope, Dr,.mzi i.56.
I. candjde. c. ,J. The li.tin sas .John B)ng, Admnal of the Blue,lvho was couri martialed and shot lor failing to relieve Nlinorca. 8. -rhe speed, by Johnson's ghos! is nr dre SDirh brodles nciedcl.4ddres6 (r8,r): see p. r{2 ol this booL
.
9. Sr{ifth letter to Pope dared Novembrr s7, r?16. ,o. Cn Platos ntcrcxc,ur see p- r3t of thjs boot.
r!. This is in rhe introdu.torr
lerter addressed by Era$lus to
13. Pope, Dunciad X.t65-tjo. r4. I. C. Squire, ano6cr b€cry poet, {as satirized by Rot Crnpbell in couple$ dnecdy nNpiied by Popc: A speedy death to all his lerse he {cars
it in tears, rar materirl lor his la)s old rn6li.h Leer he lorcs to pr,k.
Who 60 altempts co pi.kle
Taking
lhr
as
good
To which all other exit he denies s've iim"gh the whizzins hoscpipe oI his eles. Geary;ad, London, r 93,, p. !3.) lThe 15. Ruskin, ,r'at'd Pentelici, Lectvc IU, lnaginalion,' paraSraph 85. 16.
Voltaiie, Cdrdtd?,
rt. Jurenal
c. ro
nn.
3.,6,-16?.
ra. Trc;lut and Cresida 5.to.38 57. 19. SwiJt, Ptoposal lar Conecting the Englih Langragd, and Landa (oxfotd, r95?), ,43.
.247.
eds. Davis
NATES ON QHAPTLR
NO?ES ON CHAPTER II say that one remark in Luciliu, ("God preseNe us from dirty lan' CUrEF t,8 899) de1n. rha, I u ili"' him."lf h:ll "\"iJ oLwFnir) in his !a!ires: Ior he cenainly do€s not do so, and the loDe ot the
II
II. DIATRIBE r. Hotuce, Sermones r.ro.4849. On tudis et Gmech iata.ti carnikh auctot lt.to.66), often supposed to refer to Ennius as .hron' ologi@Uy the firsr Latin aerse{atids!, see [. Iraenkel, Itor4.4 (oarord, !957) r3' n.
who quotes and accepts Nipperdeyh interpre tation, that azcror means, not Ennius (who after all was a Hellcnist) but any Gude writer. r. Lu.ilius (ed. F. Man, r vols., Leipzig, ,9o4 and ,gob), in the second latirc of Book 9. 3. I! an apt image ciaracteristicauy exaggerated, Pe$ius (r.rr5) says Lu.ilius 'broke his jaw.tooth" on his victids.
remark sounds much more like one of his comi. characters-perhaps, as
B,
E. EP. z.a.6o.
6. Mad in his edidon of Luciliu, (cited in n.
!) conparer frasr84; but there Lu.ilius is really parodln,g Ol)$el 9.966 36?, rhile Aristoph"nes is apparentll docking a recent play by his rival Cutinus. ?. It is srange thar Horace should say thqe was no difierence be tween Aristophanes and Lucitius except their mete8, and totally lcgrect the dramaric chah.ter of lhe Greek comedies (Sen. 4.6.1). Did he fail to see lhat the Old Comedies sere plays (be.ause rhel werc so disorderl, ind were nerer staged in his tide), or did he imply that Lu.ilius's satires could be pur on the stage? Heinze, in ment 836 with Aristophares,
lyrrrr
his note on this p.$age oI Hora.e, saF that ereek and Roman
Iii€rary diti6 believed meter was extremely important iq de8njng and distinguishing literary genrcs; bur surely a sensitive poer sudr as Horace czuot have used such a superficial standadt 8. Su.h is Satire 2, rhi.h was appaicntly buih around a kene in a taw{ourr compare the triat in Aristophanes' lt/dpr and the .ontest ot Acschylus and Euripides in rhd arogr. 9- The link berween comedy and satire in bofi Lu.ilius and Horace is strcngly emphasized by M. Puelma Piwonka in ,!.ili!r uktt Kauimachos (Frankfurt a/M, 1949) 60'61, who cites, among other pa$ages, Hdra.e's comparison of rhe real*ri. quasiproslic styles oI satie and .omedy in Sdrn. r.4.89'56. Holvever, therc are
Ma.x suggests, a shocLed lady. ro. Hor. Se/n.2.5.rr r!.
rt.
12.
Hor. dP. s.r.Es-6o.
Gr€ek ald Lalin !o make as ar allusion to the fact
\
s t is too common in it necesaiy for us to interpret the phrase tlat Biont {a.her sold s,lt fish.
The metaphor by which wit is called
r3. For a d€scription oI some of the,e glpsy priesb see Apuleius, Metamaryhoset 8.21.20 14. For an elaboration of this point see P. Wendland\ Hsll.zitkch-rijmiche (zltzr (Tiibingen, rgrr) ?{5-146. On Sr. Paulh use of sone ol the oethods of the diatribe and on the coqleclion between the diatribe and Ch*tian preachiDg generally, see X. Norden, Antihe Kunttprcsa (Leipzig, ,898) !.bo6 n. r, and ,.556-558. There tu a good aualrsi of the stlle of lhe dialribe in rhe srme work, r.rr9.r3r. The whole subje.t is cl€arly and pereratingly reated in an old but still useful book, S. Dllls Ronah Societl lrom Nerc to Marus AuteLiu (London, ,9o5'), Boot UI, c. 2, "The Phildsophic
Bion.hiefly thiough hh life in Diogenes Laertius Amim in PDl/n, 3.485,485 and C. Wachsmuth, Sittosalhi &tue.i (Leipzig, 1885,) ?3-?7. His discou$es hare disaPPeared, but they caq be reconshucted from quorarions, and desqip tiols, and imilalions by his foUower Teles, {hose work has been well 15. We know
4.46 5?j see also voq
o. Hense lTdeti retiquioe, Tnbingen, r9o9,). On Teles also A. Modne in PrylR€ r.b.375-38r, and U. von Wilamowir. Moellendotfr, Antigonos tah Karynos (Philolagische Unt.tuchungen 4, t88t) Excurs q, pp.29r 3r9. 16. Eratosthenes in Diogenes Laertius .1.5?, and Theophrasrus in edited by 6ee
New Conedy in eitller author as M!. Piwonka implier. I believe also that some of his parallels and ieconsbuclions go roo far, as when he finds a dranatic Parallausithyonszene in a neDtion ol Tantalus (Lu.il. frE. r4o) aDd in the .rudely comic episode of Horace'3 sexral disappointment (Sdm. r.5.8!-8b). Tha! lilde adlenture is almost the exact ieverse of love locted ouC : Hora.e is nor starding in the .old sre€t but wairitrg in his bedr@h, and he does Dot srar a$ake all night weeping and singing serenade. Again, n h larjetched to
Strabo r.r5: both po$ibly refering to the fact (whi.h Bio! himseu bluntly additted) that his Dother had been a who.e. r?. Wilanosilz, on p. 30? of his study quored iq n. 15 above, sugges6 that the diaoibe as Bion practiced ir was a cros between the Sodatic dialogue and the display speech of the sophists; but this rather ove.lools the srudied infomality of rhe diatribe, lvhjch i3 {ar removed from the elegantl)' symmerical senrences and 81acefuuy turned platitudes or paradoxes of the .ptddttr. 18. There is a useful list of the princjpal thenes of rhe diatribe in A. Oltramare, ,"r O/iginet de la diobibe romaine (Geneva, tqs6), Intrcductior, section 4. On their surynal see P. lvendland, 'philo und die klnis.h{toilche Diatdbe," in P. $rendlind and O. Kern,
.248.
.249.
not ncarly so many dnect quodtions and imirations of Old and
Nr'OTES ON CHAPTER
II
NO?'S ON CEAPTER
B.iltiige zu/ Gdchichte der g;echischen Philosolrhie und Religion (Berlin, r895).
t9. In .. r, sections 4 and 5, of hjs book cired in r.9 M. Pue]na Piwonka draws a slDrp distinction between the sernofl$ oI Lu.ili$ and Horace on one haDd and diatribe on rhe orher. Firsr, he says, diatibe is anred at 1he general public, while Lucilius and Horace speak to a rclativell snall audience ol l.iends (Lucilius ,6.59:596j
Hor. Srm. r.,o.?.19r). Se.ond, the diaribe is a monologue, wlilc the rdmo is nore like a convelsadon- Third, Lucilius dislikes philos ophy, and Horace, though more inclined to philosophizing, is $ill rather a dileuaDte. And, founh, the philosophiczl tclcheN who male most use oI the diatribe, the Cyni(s and Sroics, are odious ro bolh satirhts, as extlenjsrs, iunodetut;, ihepti.'t|.e Ngrment is valuable, but a litrle exxAAe.ated. Lucilius las far as we can tell frcm his re nainE did not care for philosophy; bu! Homce knew quite a lot about it, and enjoyed dncussing it. He thoughr rhe Sloics were absurd doctrinaires and he despised the Cyrics, but he did not retuain l.om using 6ome of their a.,+ments. Allhoueh his rdttu.nes arc otln addre$ed to individuals and pretend ro be convcrsarions, still, su.h impo.tant satires as the 66t of Sook I (o Nraecen* on discontent) and the thi.d of Book 2 (a dis.ussion of lhe Sroical drene that all non-Sloics are insne) are bur diafibes aranged as conresalionsi meant to be, as ir were, orerheard bv lhe publk. ln a useful arti.le, "Salire as Poprlar Philosophl," CP ,5 (r9ro) ,38.r57, C. W. Llendell poin$ out tlDt the Roman satirisrs were more .oncerned with erhical themes dan with invective (which is whl Iuvcnal rnd Hora.e are .alled drlt.i in the l{iddle Aget. Horacet srtirical works are lull of important noral terms such as raFtrnr ald jrr//6, rirtrr and !t,iru. See atso .- ? of Oltnmares book, cited in n. r8. 20. Diels, [tug ente det yarsokntihet (6th edn. by W. K.aDz, Berliq, r95r) B,5, pp. ,S?-,t3. ,r. Fragnrents of lromeric parody in \\:achsmuth, Si\agtaph; tgt 2p. tIou6oy€ioroc, Srabo 16.r.19 and Diogenes Laefius rl.r?i the alternative form ndu6d,oy;looq appears (a.cording to Liddell-Scolr -rhe dbusht, il nor the a.tual word, Jonet onl) in an inscription. comes up in a jolly chorus ol Adstophanes, r'rogr 389.j9o: rorr& $ir *ro'q eiriiv, Torl& 6a mou6oid. Ilenippus vrote a Descent to dre UJorld of thc Dead, in whkh he saw rnd (liLc a rrue Cynic)
rehhed dre humiliarion ol xtrose who in rhis lile had bcen great me!. From Lucianh initaiions ol it, it appea$ to have Lreen a burksque of the visit of Ody$cus to dre dead in O4$.) ,,i bu1 it may also
havc
b(n
inspired b.v the conri. nalaDard
tophrnes' arogr.
:,
\{c
hear also of a
.950
l]ight ro
of
in Arh nodcled (as
Dion)'sus
HeaveD,
1I
H€lm in Pt7lnE ,i.r.889 inrers) on the flight or Trygaeus in Arislophanet Ptd.e. We may say therefore thit Merippus wa6 the first philosophi.al saririsr to make his €ntire work funny, and that he modeled it oD Aristophanic omedy. !3. Menippus was a Syrian, ftom CadaD. The Anbidn Nights .onstandy sliP into rhyming prose and thence into aeBe: see Burton's "Terminal nsay," .. 5, in ijs rranslarion. lrofe$or Moses Hada!, to whom I owe lhe suggesdon rhat rhe shape of Menippean satire wa8 Semitic in origiD, explaift that drere is an Arabic fom of humorous philosophical dis.u$ion in prose mingled wirh vese, called the n.qana or "session." See his,rr.illa to Cldsi.dl Rcdding (Nelr York, 1954) 58j but atso o. Immisch, N.fbb 4t
,8. Ennius's -rycdtrhdgdli.a was a rranslaiion ol lle.lyfnthid b\ the Iounh.entury Si.ilian author Archesfarus- This poem goes
'251
.
NO?'S
OIV AH APT
NO?ES ON CHAPTEF II
ER II
into Eieat dehil on the bett vadeties of fish and othei delicacie|. Sinc€ it is in hexameters, and uses th€ diction oI Hom€r and othcr lofly wtiters for a trivirl subject, it looks like a satiric Parodyj an(l yet the author seetu to take the subiect quil€ seriously, with no PerhaPs i! should be c1a$ificd $ace of contenpt (uke oids Art ol Lore) not as a satire but as a frivolous didaclic po^m. on rl'r,1r,. D,,,a b) Mdrro ot Piunr' see nore r5 otr (hdr ier lll. ( ln^" aufore are boLh pdi,Fd and rxplain.d b) t Brandt in volume r of the c,rp,sculun Poes& Epicae Cr\..ae LLdibun.tdr, Leipzig, ,888.) As for Enni8, Horace do€s not speak of hin as n satirist. Yet f,nnius did publih four boob of Poetry called S4,!r4., whi.h contained lotue oI the cnaracteristic features and some al least of rhe ciiti.al function of iully developed satire. Their rcoainu are on pp. 38r-395 of E. H. Warmin8ton's rtdgndnb ot' Old Ldtin 1 (Cambridge, Ma$., r9t5). rn r1-,9 se have part oI a monotogue by a parasite exposilg his own impud€nce; in !t we hear nDnist own roice; on p. 394 there is a relerence to a dialogue between two hyposhtized figdei, Life and Deathj and on P. 389 to a .hamiiS fable ranslated by Ernius from Aesop it the poputar n€t€r ol bochaic tetrameters. AII these might well o.cur in saliric Poetry, an(l indeed rhe monolosue or the pansite reniDds us or Juvenal's nindr satire. But theie is no evidence that Ennius in hissalires €ver attaclcd any indilidual pe$onallI, as Lucilius did; 2trd it is because of tr,esc
peFonal attacts that Horace praises L .iliu and czlts him tbc succe$or of the Attic comedians, ihe founder of Ronan satire (Sem,
1906) r9. Zo. Apolagia 31c8 d\.
3r. The ertant monologue satires in Latin (ex.luding the satirc{ of Luciliur and vaho, which are so lragmentary that we can nelcr be quire sure of deir originel shape) arer Horace ,.r, 1.t, r.3, ,.4i r.6, r.ro, ?.:, and,.6i Persius r, s,3, and 5r aU Juvenals pocnN €icept 4 and 9. Some of thcse satires open by addre$ing a real p€rson-who, ho ever, does not reply (e.s. Hora.e ,., and Juvenrl 6)j and many hare short pa$agee of dialogue with an imaginary interlocutor or intcrlocutors; but they are basially nonologues. Thctr there ar monologu€s disguised dialoguesr Honce 2.1, 2.3, 2.1, ,.5, *.7, !.8, and Juvenal 9. In six of these the.hief speater is not rhe poet himself but another chancter Honce s.3, !.4, s.5, ,-t, !.8,
,*
rire
otrcr rarin 'ari'e'. Horace ,.5 , 7 ,9 and ! 8 \nPntion'd
above as a hybrid) are narlatives, as is Petroniust Sar)'i.a; some oI Vano E best sadreFEu d)mion$, Eumenides, Sexagd$,r-are naua_ tiles too. To complete the cla$i6cation, Horace r'8 Juvenai 4' Sen?'ds Apa.ola.r",ont, dnd P'oLrbly VJtro' \rvtlirrr' alrhough na$ati\e i; lom, are br.kdlly Pl,odh': HorJ'P P,rod\ing d dedn3_
|ory epigram with an aetiological addilion, Jurenal an ePic Poem Seneca a hisbri.al mono$aph, Vano the Od)$d) On Petrorius sce p. ,,1. 92. Satire and epic, Juvenal ,.5r-5?; satire and tragedy,663466, Iuvenrt s s.tir"" 1t,o re. eived TU, h ot rl-p poxc, of rhe mono'oguc" 6n cr-hi."l ,n.t po.i',.i1 .ubje t'. (rllFd d-l"rdtion' shi,h werP
by Statius,
lashionable in ihe first century A.D
t3. Weinreich rcmarks on P. tc of &e Inlrodlcdon to his Ri;mkche Satneh (Znricl, roaq) that the vet'y i'rles Agdinst EuhoFils not righl for satire, whi.h is true. Thel stand and, Againn Rufinu ^te and inve.tives such as ci.ero's attacks on half way belwcen satire Antony and Catiline. ID satire thei. closest relative js Juvenal
1,
, of hir
,.4.,-8, ,.,0.46ir). M. Puelma Pisonka, in in n. 9, altempts to disso.iate EnnirB still {urther from Lu.iliu5 ard Hord(e. rq. Ho!. Jdrn. 2.i, the intervies benveen Ul)$e! and Titsias, may well have been inspired by MenippuJs NrAuia, although not directly modeled on it; see R. Helm, a,.iau &nd Menipf (Leipltg, book .ited
c. 3, section
nnd Juvenal 9; and in Horace 2.5, rhc Poei does not aPPear at all Hora;e ,.8 b a! oddity, for it is really a na!.ative in 1he lorm oI a monologue with Horace acting as interlo.utor. Juvenal r5 conlains r detailed and vivid narrarive, bui most of the Poem is an indignanr monologue conmeniing on the s1orl Satnes in 1he mooologue lorn oI a lettcr at utconnon in Lalin, but Horace's Poeric LetLe4 ^re quirF.lo.e b \Jrirr P8 r.,8). dnd Pebiu' 6 ool' like I lFrrer' OI
ridiculous flatterie6 oI dle Greeks in Juvenal
3.86_108 are as bad as Lucian s toad)ing pane$ric of the beaulies oI Panthea, the mistress of Verus Caesar, in his Pi.tu'crr and, as Juvenal observed, he was not Greek by blood: Syrus in Tibeiim deRurit oronies (3.6,). ; Do good evidence &at the two men knew ea.h there Hovever, orher: see G. Highet, Jz,endl the satitist (Oxford, r964) ,52 and ?96. 35. In an int€resling esay, "La satire dans les tetlter de Saint JCmme," nEL 45 (,945) ro9,,6, c. Iavez explains how the satiric spirit in St. Jerome overflowed in his violently imaginalive and dnsticilly colloquhl dcnun.iations ol herelical Christiats and ofier bactslide$, but, by implication, shows tlut th€ saint did not thi.k he was writing satire. A much ri.her stldy by D S. Wiesen, Sl ldofte b a sdiir;t (Itha.a, N.v., 1964), explains that Jerone had all rhe birer cdtical temper a.d the caNtic iongue oI the sati.ist (e!en somctimes to his own cmbarrassment as a Christian) and that
'253
.
NO?tS Otr
CE Ap? ER II o,.,ionr.tv rhouBh, or him,etr r! d.inc a vrniq,r l:1"1 -,':'. in on/ d rHo book\ as,{s4;r/ R,fn,,. l:'_'ll'"1 'l',,."1,"p, rh( !4riFr\ and qir whn h"uLh rrp F.,€nriah of sadrc j6..Whar hrpprned in rhe Middlc Ag-a wJc,hat e,jrc ot rhe n oDoroguc r\pe was di\pt1.ed bv invcrri\e or ...omptrinr, thi. pro,.-, F kdt dF\ribpd bv \ar. John perFr in (., of his coarldi,r a1d s,utra tn rart\ r aetih Li,"tutut? ro\,ord. rgru). s.,riu; q ut tnar , hrlrq dis, usq. .te"rty and ifluminarin8lv. rh;q,.,t,"r .h;h.( Dernaros poetu re a rcal satire. 5?. This is lrom .Against the pride of the Ladies,,, on pp. rBc-,,i6 ot.The pot'ti.at toas! ol Fa8!a1d ttam th" R.ien al !;i.,;,;,) ol Eduatd.l t. ed. rt onLton. ,8r9r. I hrvF \ti8t ,tr addp,pd
-'r.-Wti8hr .Fwclc me texr: in padiculdr. iwhhh eo.c ,o w.U
'r,ntnForiginal tlobi.
!irh ,iorl\..r ; Con-
ThFre iq dt.o a Aood sJrire . On rt
love attrirs: see pp. rE,6-rr,q,
The sdri'nal pdragF ,rom sr. Bernd,d i, s,tto 1, \up"t -38uanttu4 (PL rii..ol.9i9r,.ir.dbr Okn.pf.,7, ?,r. rhFce.qrion t,om Brom\2rd is in ow{. pp. 3,63,7: rir; ida.:, D,. Owr e\prarn5, dlso occDrs jn ptet, ptauma" t^a i, 11\ i riri PoFm 'n rrr,bured ro watrcr Ma ' t-o'.coliJ. r. dut?ada id rheFem\otw,t,Fr "."1i,g. """ ..30. La!i, Po"n. commont\ ttttibut"d to tratt4 Mop^. Y"p_*:.Ti: ed. ,. wri8hi (London, r8ar). p_.-s8q.n. 19r his rrooi( .ired on p. 41 5"ya rrra, .,1.: 9l'.';..:: be cnt'te. wtk ot Ba,h , p,oro\u" is no nofl rn,. a *ii^ or ,,, i. trcn5on rhc remp ot rtre gid rbour woman. ralFn by pF h.' Ir^; rhe shat dcs,riprion in p,overb. 7.,o.,2. rhir ,"1m. a li,rtc lik" 4t. A\ You Lihe tt 2.j.so-5t. 4p. Abmham a crncrd Ctrra difleF from Bion in rhe ta,r ,hrL Bion qd. almost sholt\ neearivF and yepri,dt. wh:tF 4Lrrl,dn wds a dprour cl'i.,ian. bur therF ,r" msnr m;rtFd ,oin. iden.F. in rhe! styles- Bion said_abour wives that ar ugty one ras a ndri and a prxv one r ko,ui rDiog. Lacr,. 4.48). So AbrlhJF w1,Dq hh redde,s or thp dang4\ ot lo\e and mdnia8p. sayinq rhd, vcnur h Wenu$: ''we. wrq mrn,hp IIre Nu$ mu$ der VrrltFbre autbpi.,en,,. (J,d6 d..r E^th?tn 3. p. 69r' in mrrrir8e onr mu{ i hoose .a,.tult\.
''d"mit man ni'.Book an,rart eincr CFr -u, , in S."ren trrut, an.Lau e;ne, Paulen einen Faulen, znstaft einer Doiothee €in Ach und Wehe, amrarl eincr sibilr ein€ ptFRertMrht h.qrrhe.. (/zaar. Boot L p. ln rhF addrp$ ro ihF reed.r bptorc Bo.k 3. he eys rhar he '5)..ot want "d€r Heil. does Lehr einen Fassnachr_Mantel 'anlegen,,, which is like aiv g odoei@ d€,w iG6uo€v of Rion (Djog.;err
.254. 1.
NOTIIS ON CHAPTER II 4.ri2). ThGe is a sound, though rather unsymPalhetic, pon.ait of Abnham in c. ? of n. A. KannS tlrd) tn A ntian Inklledual Hk' loa)' (New Yo.L, r90o). 43. Ror., Campbell, The Georyiad (London, r93,) ,et7 44. For idcntilications of most oI the characte6 in dese nolels and an account oI MiUert life wlile he was wriling and liting thed, see Allr.d Pe.lns, M) I'iend. Henry ltiuet (New York, t950). j5. Mort Sahl is famous enough to hale been the subje.t of a IulueDgth .hancter{kerch ih Tiftc (Aususi 15, 1960). It .ontains some good specinens
of his butteill-pluswasp diatribes.
on Teience! Pio'u to, Donatus €xplicitly says that the paraEite Phormiot speech in 839f. js not talen from the Greek originel of the comedy, but f.om Ennius's satires: he then 46. Commenting
I quotes six lines. They can be found in Waminglon's Rena;ns at' Old Latin I lLoeb serie, Camlrridse, Ma$., 1935) 388-389. A contem_
porary monologist, Bob Newhart, ho has probably neve! heard of Xhnius, delive.s a diatribe on lhe same plan. Spealing in the chara.ier ot a disgn,nded common soldicr in George Washingmn\ amy, he piles up Amy gripes about all lhe great figlres of the War ot Independence. "You hear what Nutty George pulled last night? The dollar a.ro$ the Potodac, you d'dn1 heat about thaQ You know
he had ns out till three in the mo.nirg looking lor the damn thing? . . . There was some nut flashing a light on ard ofi in the chur.h tower all ni,aht. The ftinute lte quits, this drunk goet iding through town screaming. . . . H€re .omcs one of the real weitdos of them au-Benn),r the one nith the squue gla$es. Ncx! rime we
himl" (Ne, voiA ?incr, April ,?, r96r.) In his .brrming infodudory letter dadicating The Pni:e af aoll, to his frifDd Thomas l{o.e (partl,! because "folly" in Greek i5 aoltd, wilh a long o) f,rasmus defines it as a satire, by sayi'g it is have a thunderstorm, watch
47.
both funn) and biting, by pointing out that, ahhough ostensibly a piece of fooiery, it has a serious meanins, and by lisling among its pr€de.essors Alhenian Old Comedy, The Battle al Lrogs and Mk., Senecas Apacolo.yntosis, and a oik by Lucian. 48. B.owning called thcse serious monologoes D/ahdtic Idyk and Dramdt;c Ramdnces. They bear about the same relation to regular poetic drama as his saiiri. honologues to sadric conedy. 49. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethrt lo8a22 and rr?4b3o. bo. Hamlel 3.2.9"t gg and 3r2 3t4. Sce a detailed analysis by N.
KDnx: The uard irony and irr contert, r5ao-r7tt (Durhim, N.C-, rq6r).
5r. A. R. Thompson, in a good little book called The Dry Mo.h (Berkeley, Cal., 1948), sals that dramatic iDny {as fint so namcd and dcscribed by collop Thirlwall, the B.ilish scholar, in 1833
'255.
NOTES ON QEAPTERS
II.III
(pp. ra5 ra8). on p. 54 he gives a fine episram by IIax [aslman sumning up the efcct: the playw.ight exchanges wirh rhe audience "a gtuchme wink- He dntnrguishes th.ee rypes of dunari. jrony, aU based dn contrasr: irony of speech, in which the words of a state, ment coDtrast with the lacts behind them; irony of .hara*er, i! thich a mart outward appearan.e and behavior a.€ at va ance with his real Dature; and irony of €venrs, in whi(h we see rhe conrasr of expectation and fumlment. 52. Penondl RecoLlections ol the LiJe and. Times .. . of Valcntin. Lord ctancutry @ublin, ,849) 46. 53. 'aou caU your satires, libels: I would rarher call my satires, episrl$," wrote Pope to Swifr: see l\is Cotrespondefl.r, ed. c. Sherburn, vol. 3 (oxrord, 1956) 360. I owe rhe quorarion originally to Mr. Ian Jack, Augustan Sari. (oxford, 1952) roo. In.idenralty, I believe he is a liltle ofi rhe nark iq desqibins rhc Latin Jaru'a as "in esselce an inlomal ethical episrle, wirhout a plot.' An etlicat epistle would Dot naturally have a "ploC i and aparr from that, letrers for ihe Romatu were nrher more {ormal than sD€ecL The 6bs.enirirs and absuJirie, of mu,h ta,;n 3arire rould have bFen imp.rmissible in a letter, but are ex.used by the fa.t that tley are supposed to be ebullitions of lively talk. S!iU, rhe conre.tioq ol setmo epirrrla is .lose: see Nt. Puelma Piwonka Giled in n. 9) 9r,91. ^nd 51. Oa rhe CPiItes du .oq-d-l Ane see O. Ro$etrini, Zcr I"f!cr.6 anciennes et itdliehnes tur la satbe en hance au XyI. s;C.le lFlotence.
16.,8.
On cr. l.romes leuch:eF n. 51 '9r81
35.
56. Byrcn, vision of Judsment, st^nzas j5 and ja. b7. Pope, EFilagu. to the Satbf, Dialo&ue Il,20-25. Mr. Ian Jack, in Dote ! on p. r,r of his book cited in n. 53 above, points out that the distirction between a poeric letter lor nonolosue] and a dialosue was, foi thc Augutan poets, purely one oI rhetorical struclure aDd conveDjen.e, and that Pope actually .onrerted his rhird Mo/al EMy
lrom an 'episrlc inro a dialogre.
I]I. r.
'.-ia*ir., trioute. oiotr)'"i.: irappropti.te 'u!j1r: thP otha r'P'odurinS ,,r.1""-,r "t." "nd r'routsl I ol "n rurhor while flagaerarinq his i', and not nftP$aril) q!o';n8 'ny Pd*age slieit charccreris . cr s.Dhocle.l,risore r. r. So *y'. C ''.tn*':" ,o Ca\rndm. in AF+ l'vlu"46dalanon 6. scarcely exagger.led at all: e-g. SoPhocles, Philo"etcs t2no t2t4
oarodi. a,rriLur.d ro an anon)mout dc'Fgrte rtod a ot .oinr.y i'.. r""*' Hemi.Ph're rdt publi'hed in rl"r vr'd vo't 'Wa d.T.letfln dnn Stn fnr Ap'il !o, r960 A. lu.tot d"t ( ti h" a Book , P 8, Jn Lhe smr vorl Bool 3 D. tor AL,r.lJT rroJu.s d $,r ;t rh)ming Parod' ol th' rroth 'p*r^ u" r,t',t'1r m,ry men shFn fie) .jng \e.Fts are thinting oI worldly thires, like thi;: DIXIT DOMINVS DOMINO IiEO
,.-rhi\
heut gehen rvt zum Hefn Leo SED! A DEXTR1S I{[IS heunt werde i.h gewinnen, das ist Sewiss DONEC PONAM INIMICOS TVOS gectern hab i.h ve6pilt d,eY Ma$ SCABELLVM PEDVI\I TVORVM nPDnr wird si.h das Gluck kehren um
VIRGAM VIRTVTIS TVAE i.h lerd lrbcn f!r/i h. las silts IN "5PLLNDORIBV'i SANCTOR\Nl lx V] FRO I VCIFERVII GENVI TE so daDn be?ahlen
ni.h
A\Tf
alle
I\''RAVIT DOMINVS ET NON POENITtrBIT EVM i.h witl sehen, das ich b€i zeiten kodm TV XS SACERDOS IN AETtrRNVT'I SECVNDVI{ ORDINEI{ NIELCHISXDECH
PAR ODY See
thrr Ddrodl
]VO?ES ON CHAPTER III mPanr rqo rh:ngr' P'in iPdll\' in crFece and RomF: on'' oa*,e" rro-,i Jurtot and alPl)ing ir to a @6i'
ich zum ncisten, und sie bezahlen die Zech DOI'IINVS A DNXTRIS TVIS s.hau drs wir eine Gans jasen an die sPiess CONFRIGTT IN DIE IRAE SVAE REGf,S sauiT
R. Lebel, ntar.el Duchamll (6. C. H. Hamilron, New york, The ritle was L.H.O.O.Q., whi.h appears to be a di6-
1959) 44-45.
if spelled dut letrcr by letler in lrench bewlgar phrase '[lle a chaud au .u1." This nasrerpiece is tproduced on plate 90 in !rr. Lebel's boot: it is now in a privale collection in tlle United States. 2. See K. Clark, Tnd Nzdd (New York, 1956) r?r and 956. 3- There is a use{ul a icle .alled "Th€ Basis of Ancienr parody', by I. J. L€lidvre in uee.z and Rome r (,95a) 60.8r, which shows tortion oI LOOK, but
comes the
.256.
eine sute laus€n ist nn bij$ ... [er.] so. Ilo; Bv;ntium, qc'hedr or artd k' on a d'unker monl and on r -," "h; re{s.d rc srat a bcdtd in rormuld' dnanged or dr' line, of the Ma$ (Baynes and lrro$, ,)zar,idn, Oxford, !949, p 'z5o) o. He,lerh Ppd,6on. Zrb6) (New \ork. t91t)' 2lb LJbou,hare ar.o ,"mm..'.' on Qu-.n Vi' r.rid s pol\^hiloP'oEPnir:\e nrrurc in
NOT ES AN CHAPTEP
lII in Homeric terms. It shows an almost in.redible verbal fa.ility and a loowledge of Homer which must have b€en virtually compl€te from the beginning of the Iled to the end of the odjr$a); it plays with wolds in many difierent fashions-puns, un€xpected line-endings, fa..ical a$imilation ol great lines to sma[ subjects. lt tu one of the wittiest parcdies ever writtenj and yet it has r r€ve$e efiect
1VO"ES OIi CHAPTER IIT i rlig\,ly bli'pr'Fm.r. p.,'oJv ot J4uq rpho,i.r i,. ]r" I,.w 6.J4: ''\'lrr. inni lor rhr rFier' dr, | ,p pr ,nJ,I rt r'p. r5er.nt. .tb I p 1\,.) ,o. s. N. Sehrman, Porhair ol Md, (New york, r!160) 89-97.
\\.
Goody Blake and Hala\ Gill. 12. sinan Lee, the On Eunttmot. iS. Ilisce\a eo s Sonnek, Part IU,
xiii. I.annot
resist quoting a
deli.ions pie.e of setfprrody bv the parna$ian Catule l{e;dts: ahe first line of his poem 7. d .Dis.trtc: Le Bouddha rere, ayut dans ses mains ses orrcik. 14- l.K.s. (i.e., lancs Kenneth srephen), Zap'u' Calani, hero edi.
,or,
Cambridge,
r
8ar.
The name oI Pigres of Halicama$us, who was the brothq oI Queen Artenisia (aliied with xeRes ir hi, invasion ot creece), is tnditionallv conneded {irh this poemr blr it tooks more lite a product ol rhe agd ol Aristophanes, sotue nfty years later_ Tleie at a good article, wirh bibljogriphy, s.r. Ptgrcr, by \ i. Aty, inpr/nE qo.2.,J,g ,q,6. and a lirtle rreatise futl oI interesrjns side infotuarion 15.
by G. totid.
w Waliemarh, Da Batnchomyotuachiae orignte, natura, his, J ..io.:bus.'nilotio?ibL,,srur'grn. .88o) Ih/," 1r" rwo dit
rerhr airoun,s or the oriE:n ot ttd,o.t\ jn crF.,e. q,iqrorte (po-, \ !118d,2\ sr\s ir v h, n qr i rrn bv He8emon ot Thaio.. a n;r who ', Iitpd du,ing,rre Pdop.nrr,irn War. potemo. quo'nd b) Arhen1.u"
1,5,-698b), a$errs rhat the inventorol paiody wa; ihe bitier janpooniq,, HiDpon'\. kho li\ed mu{t' pa'ti,r. abour ,,o B.C Rur rh;.F i, no hinS ,o ruppo,r F\,rDr lour lin.s ot denun,id ion b\ Hip 'hi" ponax vhich are cc.kirly epic in toDe atrhough apptied to a dis,
ir would be more cotect to d;$ibe rhed as Ii(. r,'e angl .pce.h ot A,hi a in ;o.t Ln4 the
ieputable Nbjcct: mF,elu "bu.ivF inrF, rn-. ol r-l
parod, a, rn indi\ id,,at r) p, "ioJ in r,yorA' ,trd D rxr. of poe,n \o! rhF fforp in,mdu,-d t,v HFscnon. xh^ h,d o,rsinalt) bpen a 'l'rns"d., ' cFri^u! rc,iq ot epn- poFtry. Hh roq tarrous worl las a rattle of Gtdrtu, which amuseil ihe.Arhenians even in the grim days of rheir Sicilian expedirion. For the survivins f.aarPn,! nt Hippond\ .'nJ Heg.mon. rn.l di.,u.,ionq. s"p B,.n/r, Catpusculutu \.3t.36 and 3j-49. On the other hand, since so much
crecl lileraruie gftw out ol folkpoeta, it is tempring to rhink that Hegemon .lid not .,invent', parody, but iathd sLylized an eii6ting form. F. W. Householder, nAPQlArA, cP
j9 (r94) 8, suggests rhat afrq serious recjtarjons
of epi. poetry by rhe profesional rhapsodists, lhere appeared anateur parodists who mide lun ol their matter and sllle. So a hagjc rilogy was followed by a satyr playj and fas€dies by .omedies. Ir would b€ a shlme not to mcniion a magninc..! parodl bv Matro or Pitana, the A ic Dinner (c.3,5 B.C.), a hunsrv n.n's desdiption of a banquet
.258.
,
and srtirizes Mauo hjmsell It is always disgusting to read the Greels boasting about the free deli.acies they gobbled down at anothei nan's table (this is one of the things that makes Athenaeus unread' able), and it is wofte when one of tlle guests is Srratoctes, the vile flatterer who persuaded rhe Ath€nians to glant quasidivine honor to their Ma.edonian @nquerors and to house the Ma.edoniaD governor in the Paith€non. 16. Battuchom\omachid r14 Rnndr. tI. Battuchohromachio r5S-r57 Bnndt. r8. Because of the pecutiar .hara.ter of the fight, beMeen landanimah and water-anidals, who are not uslaUy natural enemie, and because of the tndition tlut the poem was Mitten by a @ntedpo.ary of Xerxes, it has been believed r}rzt t)1e Batra.honyond.hia is a parcdf ol a teal epic about the war bet een the wate! forccs of Greece and the land forces of Persia. Yet it is hard to think ot it as being Eitt€n beIorc tt],e Gigantomach;a of Hegemon, which k dated fairly accuEtely to 4,5 B.C. Gee nore r5). More probably the nice e the Peloponnesians and the frogs, whoD Athena fies to help, the na\-y-minded Athenians. r9. Qnoted by Jack sinnons in his soatnq (Iandon, r94S) 168r69.
!o. P.ofesor L. A. Mar.hand, in his thorough biography of B)aon (New Yort, 1957), sussests that B)ron was thinking of Qnsedo', fi$t sati c vision, The ytion of,ft" Sftrl,r, which deals with rhe Last Judgmeht. (see vol. ,, note on p. 93r, r. ,?.) 2r. K. Clark, Th, Nrdd (New York, ,956) e44-?46, ,60-!6r. 22. K Clark, The Nude 260 and, 4o5-406.
28. The British ousical ditic Ernest Newdan once reviewed a sorg recital and, bdskly disposed of a sns by a Ru$ian conposer, Gretchanino!, I think. lt was caued "Oh, @uld I but cxpress in songl" and Nsman .ommented, "This composer evidently cannot." 21. Neu yatk Times, frcm the A$ociat€d Press, February 16, r95?. ?5. This lack ol selectivity vitiates an otheMise valuable collection of material by C. D. Ml.Dougau called Hoar.r (New Yort, 1958,). !6. Clifton Jades tells the story in detail in I W6 Monty's Doublc
Yorl, '958). w;c ich Hatphdnn !?. W. Voigt, IdrcnsDtd (Ber]in, n.d., c. !9o9). (New
.259.
.
Kdpenict uurd,e, nein
NO?'A ON CHAPTER 28. Adriaq Stephen, The "Dreadnbught
NOTES ON CHAP'TER III
]11
Aoat (Lotdon,
1936).
2s. Aeneil. 4.43r'. Tdlibus otubdt tdletque mietima fetus. . . . 30. The storl oI Partridge is told in the Dictionary of National Biography and supplemenred by W. A..[ddy in The wits,r. John Partridge, Astrologer," Strd.ies in Philolog 29 (r93r) ,91o. Professor Janes Clifiord of Columbia has bcen kild erough to check my a(Lounr ol dre hou add to add 3ome deta:I, The lame iMmeLimes (e.9. iD S\\itt\ AccanpUthment ol the Fbst al Mr. Bich.fiafr's Predi./to,t spelled Parftige. The Nlerlin quotaiion is from the end of
t}Ie .omforls of the anuert man wlrc Posseses a SPt€ndid ShitlinS Patt 2, canro t' ZA. \eryil Aeneid 4.,73 r88; Buder, Hudibt6, 45 and 4? 48. 39. Pope, Dunciod 2.
'95o\ 4r. Carulrus66. trom ( dllimz(hni Lac4 ot B'ftnn.: tl. 7 h. Rap.
ol the Lach
"soq oI mist," a suitable name for a poet of the mo ntains like O$iani and Merimde .hose the name ilryriqrd because he dDught many romantic poems were i/.,)rirrdr, non-lyricat. 32. The stories of spc.lrd, Fern Gravel, and Ern Malley ar€ told in an amusins book, The Spectta Hoax,by'\t. J. Smilb (I{iddleion,
4. Aeneirl 2.t-Zg, Aeneas speaking ot his lost wife; 9.436, a dead boy conpared to a drooping noser34. Acncid 6-501, of the ghosts of girls dead bclore madage (a quotation of Georyics 4.416)t and, very signiacanlly, ol giih in doomed Trov, ,.1drd,d 2.r38. 3a.
s*iti, on PoetD
255-2ri6j
Burlcr,
ltrrrirlar, Part r, canto
3,755-
?36.
36. Teofilo rolengo, .all€d lte.lirus Coccaius (r4qr,r511), thc Benedictine monk lvho was rhe faiher, although nor the first Mirei, ofmacaronic yeNe, says, "An isra poeri.. nuncupatrr rn macaronica,
qui quoddam pulncnrum, farina caseo butyro compaginatum, gro$ m rude et rusticanum. ideo maca.onica nil nisi gro$edinem ruditatem e! vocabulezos deber in se continere.' (Quoted from J. A. Moryan, Macaran;c Poetry, NrN a macarcnibus de.ivara,
York, r871,,48{49.)
31. Pope, Rdpe ot' the Lacn, Canto I ard Canto 3 Rn.j John PhiliP3, Splendid Shilltzgi Pope, Dunciad, Book 4 inh. 'rhe splendid S/ttllirg is a little jewel of satiric parody. Philips, who was l,Iilton s nepherv, Mote it, rot ro no.k his uncles magnifi.ent poerry, bur to am$e and teach one oI his own unde.graduate tuiends who was a spendthiift, by heroically exaggerating the woes of insolvercy and
Th.
.260.
5.121',3o1
A ludd€n star n shot through liquid air, And drev behind a radian, uail of hair' Not Berenice's lock fi6t rose 5o bright,
t,- Derails of thjs and many olher lirerary deceprions are given in a delighiful bool .alled ,{'ltf.er .t Mynificdtions LittCrdiftt by Roger Picard (Iloltreal, ro4i). MdimCe had already invented a
Spanish ptaywdght called Clara Gazuli and a fe knowjng readers snspected Hya.inthe Maglanovilch be(ause his po .ait showed hjm playing the grla-not De.ause that is not a real Balkan insliument, bu. because it is an anagram of Gazul. Maglanovitch is said to mean
t5l'r84.
40. swi|., Le|ion clr, ,5,-,52. There is a good discu$ion oI this poem in Nlaurice Jol-n.on s (i, ol tv,/ ,\\ra' lre '{ Y 'oo_ro;
with dishevelled light. 42, speace, Anecdotes (€d. S. w. sinser, l-ondon, r8!o)
The
v,
heavens bespangling
Se€tion
r?3? . . . 39, P. '94. 43. Details of Juvenat s parody of statius are given in G Highet, l&enal the sat[''t (Oxford, 1954) 79 and 156 259, notes ,, 5, tr, and 41. 'll\e Moihdea br Teofilo FolenSo (r{9,-I541) is in the dighdy inappropriate meter oI eleSiac coupleis, and n written in !h€ ''macaronic" blend or Latin and Italiin (rnostly Latin): ns chier nodern inspirarion seetu to be Arioslo. Lope! C4touagrr is in a loose lyricai meter: it begins with an ioitation of vergil s lezeid r. ra d (the aulobiosraphical lines cut out by Versil s executois) and contains sne good parodies of Arioslo. -A.ddison .atled his Poem
nYTMAIO-TEPANoMAXIA, and based it on the.urious lirlle Piece tot about central Af.ican pygmies and southwardmig.ating cranes in,llmd 3.2.?. Iracaula)' tholght it might have Siven a hint to Ssilt for his volage to Lillip|t Gee Macaulays e$ay on Addisoq). I his learned and eccentric book ciled in n ,5, G w lvaltemath mentions an ,l lapekiomachia ot Battle o/ Iorcr, in Latin elegiacs, published in 1498 by Sebastian Br:nt, sho wrole Tnc Sltp ol Iook, but I have Lreen unabte to see it. We should also notice a lons satire on monarchy and .ourt.life, .alled Gli Animali Patlanti (r8o?). Its author, Giovanni Battista Casti, histakeDly claims itr his preface that lie is the nnt to satirize men engaged in politid under the guise oI animalsj he adds ti\at Retndld the Fox and other books of its type have nothing in common with his woik-whereas mosr reade$ would see them as belonging to exacill the s.me fadition at difierent stages of delelopoent. The poem is amusinS, as when Casti derives the human couttieF radanaro lrom lhe animals rcspectlnl leceumpa to King Ljoni but tserty$ii.antos of it are too mu.h. There is a wiity English abbreviation and adaptation of it by w S. Rose, in ihe style of B)ron: Tnd Cautt and Pathanent ol
or geographicat
Be6rs (London, r8'9).
.261 '
NOTES ON CHAPTER III {1. Lirrr r 4 ol t e Lut,:a tohF\pond ro ten?,d t.t.j. c\en in \u, h r .n.rll d"r"il da Lhc r"u' Terr' ;t rhe ,so prr.s ol rhe rhemp. atna / uilutnque qut erc. t"s , aabol, ?t . " P,, 1"1 .^ Lt". 1di et, T\e invo{I;on ro d,c \tu,p in tirec a.,? ro a|orrtq r. r.,"iJ ,.8-,,: eLen \qdrl, dn.rfd luFiI4n ,unu.udl jn,pi pvpl),. ,act.rt.hu. ra.". n neart\ prrodi.d by Boi"iu: Tant de 6el entre-t il dans l ene des ddrors? Pope did rhe same
wirb
In
in lines ?-rr of rhe frrst book of his napd, en.ring
sofr bosoms d{ells such mighry rage?
/I oftFn vondFr Io{ m fdrodic pa{rges ot fnA,i.t rdrir'n\ .raoui he,e Lard bv o|h, c,FFt R;m," o,iiin"... 'h.ir.ru.h^,s ".,t how m n\ .Lgq^rp,l ro rhpm b\ Bort,Ju.";d Thu,. lohns^n.,,n.u" plu".- dr rhp L.qin,'ing of h:. -tron o( ,o. Ji,er.l "dJprr,ion ( I'inz ,o I'c, u.- n in,p,'r,l tc., dira ,i) bv Ju\en. Lh.,n L) BojtpJU De Parjs au pirou, du Japon juqu't Rooe. .urFI) Anrl rl-c g1"ar Fn4r /t rl,e cnd ot popr', D{,.i,/. ,i,F )a\n of Dulr,s, is moJeh.l on ,hp ydwn ot \aollA\a ,rp e,d oi rlk
"t boot of l.d Lutrinl) In ]rLis n$t book, Boileau goes on !o rle?ng.rot Dr,orJ rnd h"r inoiBn"nr .a..h upo. Jur-, ourLur{ or in Aflfid t 31.49. k.hitF hpr uan,to,mr,io; 'd8e dn lrFd {'vJnr ot rFlision ar,. "nd h"r !i. ro rhF Le1\urpr \ rvt 'nto parodics of the demon Allecto s visit ro Turnus in I eneid 7 to;466. 46. Abtalatu and Achitapldt r. 8 jo. a7. Reporrd b. ne"n ro,(iFr ir \p.n., q /,-,do... (,,1. \. W. Sin8a. I ojdon. ,82u. (e, rinn IL ,t10 . . 3?. 6ot. I, re.o_nd
modpl
W'r,d' in 7l"n4p"ot,\"to.hJnd iop""Uo.,,.-.triq -I /r!47\ 54?-35t "how. rl-ar. "lhnuqh tanr. rrd djrion ^t Home; rtptu'eJ l.,r i'rn rhe pJLIi,alon t in" Xop". pote pr.o,ti.,t \crsF. lrom hi, trdnrt-,ion htirc so,ti,JA on it ,n,l i.,..r..r ttre 48.
pa,odies inro his sarjre. aa. l,rn(^i. d- cdlliAlFc H;:ta.r" po..ttL. d. lo g""r" -. ... t1". a" u,t" .i,\ p1 rl1.,01,i"n.,tF:rad"u", \...p,hrt.Fd 1".,,688 in ar Paris, withour an auLhor's name. Ir is in the 6tn ot a prose veision of a cla$k.l epic, in twclle bools, wirh an nrtfo.tuc-
rion. ll.p in'rodu,rio',.1,!ribFq rhF tormdj op.nind ot rh. 8, ., ol Lh- Bool" rhc t" t'..;,n of rhp r,w trFnrh \rad.n) 1r whjch Charles Perranlt ^u. read his poem Ic s;acle de r.olis te Crand, (l"imine ,l',r ion,-mpora^ rren, h hI.er. F,tuo.F, or .urpar.rd rl-e an.iFnr c.Frr . nd I rrin x,.rto.. (tor rt-,, th .. ot rir i|rIh. .262.
NOTES ON CHAP?ER 111 Clasial Ttuditian, OxfotC,, t949, .. 14, particularly pp.28cr82.) It goes on to say that tl€ supporters of rhe moderns applauded, thc lorcB of thc cienrs were disgusr€d, and a third Broup-vho believed that in sone fields thi ancierts ex.elled the nodems, and the modems su.pa$ed tbe an.ienrs in otllerts left the mccting peDsively. One of thed (obviously de Calliares, see G. Highet, The
i
although he does not name himselD tnen dreamed the advelture
de{ibcd in
dre epic parody which
lollosr: a war benleen Ancients
and ModerDs, stimulaied by rhe Bodde$ Renown,
wlo
ca$ied
a
desription of &e meeting up to Paha$us and recired Pefaulrt poem. Then tLe Ancients seizcd onc peak of Panassus, the Ntoderns
the othcr. (The mountain does in lact har€ two peaks.) The bartle
ot Heli.on
ensues,
with
r
number
ol Homeri. duels: Corneille
is
deleatcd by Sophocles and Euripides, Malherbe by Pindai, Statius by Marinii dre contest of Scneca with Lope de vega is a dnw. Racine and Boileau then join lhe Ancients, and are wel.oned. Ar last perce is made on a.oDpromhe de.reed by Apollo, who ends
the poem by co,npljnerting Racine and Boil.au and rhe grear LOUIS. Tbis adusing little book is dimcult ro find, and is nor olten xeadi but anyone who goes throlgh it .arelull) is bound ro see thar Swjlfs ,a/r/e ot' the Books was (as lvolron suggesred) an innadon of it, with somc gaps and some original additions. Like de Callitres, Swjlt opened (ith tlle seizur€ of the two peats of Pama$us, and pro.eedcd to a var, sith an elaborate order ol barrte and a selies ot duels; he made the goddes Fame lly from earth ro hcaveD with news of rlre .onflicr, and caused Jupirer to inrerest himseu in ir, tihc Apollo in de Cal]ieres' parody. But he was roo inexperjenced to workout an oignral and consistent .onception, and perhrps ashamed to .opy de Callitres too closety. ThN, he presentcd Denrley bolh
a libErirn Guperior to au the boots) and a, one or the wading book.hampions. And-a mu.h greate. sign oI immaruriry-he .ould not finish his piece. Hc promised to gile "a lull imparxial ac.ounC of a bartle which happened "on l'riday lasr. Bur as soon as he startcd desoibing &e fighr irsell, he pretended to be r.nslaring tuom atr ar.icrr record inte.rulted b) gaps jn lhe nanusdipt"i and he as
broke ofi after a
dorn
piges
*irh
'Desuni .ac,rra" ( the iesr is
la.king") long betore the tcnnination of rhe .onfli.r, which h€ therefore, uDlike de Callidres, lelt undecided- Swift\ o{q episodes, the Iable oI the spider and the bee and the flight of Nfomus, aie far
better ihm his imitatiotr
ol the Frnch
auLhor. The r$emblance
between lhe iwo satics is cxamined in some detail l)y E- Pons, suil, (stnsbours, r9,5) ,7r-,?1. For de callirres' satire several earliel inspirations have bcen suggestedj but one which appeals parricularly
to me is the fight in dre bool$hop desoibed in the fifth canto oI
'263
NO?',J ON C1]APTER IlI 3oileaut Zu,rtr: the rival faclions pelr each orhe. wirh lotumes, and the fight becomes a bartte ol rhe books lhemsetveF Li, pres d un cuarini, Taren.e rombe e rene; Ll, xCnophon dans l'air heurte contre un La Serte. 50. Joyce gave a very luu list of 1he Homeric panllch in Utlsci to his friend Sruarr Gilbe.t, ryho expounded lhem
h
his siudy Jan?r
lor.e's "Uuset' (New York, rssr). 5t. La Secch;a Rdpitd, canto r, stanzas r? and 15. Lors of brorh 52, Cdnro r, strnzr 30.4r,4o.2nd 36 rjn rha' or,larl. 53. cdn'o 3, srn/d ?7. and cdnro r. sr.n/d 3r. BotoSId i enowned for it$ nor,a.ldlla sausage. 54. Canto ro, sranzas I and 5. The truest an.estor of rhe pe.uliar n)ie u.ed in /a Sp,'h;a Rap d i\ Luigi pLt,i\ MolBo ."1 iut nat Poem. khen nur rFrrous..s ru'ety.omi( sirhou, ,rnndt ;nrFn,ron. 55. Aeneid 1. 17: iudiciun Pa.idis spretaeque iniuria formae. 56. Boileau,,!rl Polriqr? r.8a and 86. 5?. For iDsancc, rhe opening of voltairer lenrh .anto:
!h
quoil touiouis douer un€ prefa.e tous mes chanrsl la monte'me la$el Un Bimple fait .ontd naivemcnt, N..onrnrn' que lr vr,iri pure.
A
Narr€, succinct, sans frivole orDement, Poinr trop d'esprir, aucun raffinemenL
voill
de quoi desarmer la censure_
a! fait, lecteur, tour rohdement, Ceq non 2vh. T"btcru Lr'npr& narur.. 5il f.r bien lri', nJ bp,otn d( borJue. Notice, as well as rhe lisht smooth verse of burtesque, the usual p.otes ratioq o{ rhe satirist that he is merety teling th; phin unm;ishe.l AlloDs
book is caued Satr^ricah liber, w]lli.b ieans Baah af Sa'r_ __.b8..The l;Lc Ad entureq o! Sarri.on Itb€r, whi.h (wirh a repeltent bur ;or impossible hybiid {ord) neans Babh al iatnic rn;nsr. rr shorld not be.alled Sallrt.or, any more rhar Vergjl,s cco,gn should be called his ceolgt.on or Hotuces Epadon tiber t\is Ep;dan. 59. This suggestion is worLed our h c. Highet, ,,perroDius the
Moralist, TAP\A 7, (,94r) ,?6,oa. 60 CF,vrnr"q hinrrlf in rhe,ao,,d,t,.t! r \,irs" in.,^qs Jrr i" fran! rbour them: una m)nadi de pu.rio\ i.ur .'n 1-,u6n.,r..
llaman). 6,. This is rhe opening of Chapter ,. 62. Dan Qu;xote, Pa ,, c. 6 ad nn. 6j. Doa Qrt*olc, Pa r, c. 9 ad fin.
.264.
64. Esdtbmr, Part r, Canto r, 359.36165. Ijldiblar, Patt !, Canto r,58j.59o:
\ou s, l fnd ir To
I
I
catch
d
ht,J,1upr"'.
ne wiLh poetic npture,
ln which youi mastery of arr Dolh show itself, and notyour heart; Nor will tou raise in miDe combustion !) dilt of high heroic lunian. 66. -{rnbphanes, Tlid lrogr r3o9j363. 61. The Ftugs t411"t418, rlanslaled by lV. B. Slanlord.
69. Fieldirgt parodies corer a wide range of English baroqu€ dnma, beginDing wnh Dryden, whon he cjtes very often. lt is slrange !o see him annoradng his own hre, spoken Lry P.i!ce$ Huncamunca, in Act 2, scene 4, O Tom ThunblTon Thutubl sherelore ari thou Tom Thumb? with a rl.rcnce 10 Otwayt ,{talt,r: Ohl NtariLN, I{arius, wherelore art thou Matius? Ot$a)'s play was nrdeed partirlly based on Shakespcare's lR,m'o ar.l /!licr; bu! did [ic]ding not recognize the Shakespearean origind 1o- carcI, Chrohonhatohrftologor (,731). The prologle to this play conecdy defines mockheroic parody as opposed io burlesque: To-night our.omi.muse the busli. qears, And g:\.\ he',FIf no sm, l romanr:' aiB. struts in heroi.s, aqd in ponpoxs !c6e Does the minutest incidents rehearse.
Jt. "Satondrcla" Btoun
^ppears
in Seerbohmt scrdt ,1trn, which
came out in ,9r9. The quotations are lrom Acts r and 3. 12. H enry I r, Pdrt ., 2.4.1tG, 80, parodying l{arlorve, Totub
tlain.
lhe Grcat, Pdrt ., 3,t 2, ?3. The duel of Menelaus and Paris (lliad 3.3r4-38t is tou.hed upon in Tr"i1,6 and crcstzla r.,-r,3-,,7 and ,.!.q?8+91- The parade of the Troiad he.o.s in Troilus and. cre$ida r.r.190{65 is adaprcd tron Helen's dewiption of the Greek heroes in the fanous wall s.ene, lliad 5. ,6r{44. The sla,ving of Hecto. b) Achilles in a duei (llmzr ,r) is degraded in Trcilus an,J Cr.$tdd 5.8 irto the bltchery of an uratned man by l.hilles and a tloop o{ his M)rftidons. 1\. Ttailll! and crarida r..1.r4?.r84i cl. /lidd I.r86,r9r. 1b. Ttoilus and Cre$ida 2.t and 5.7t cf. Iliad 2.2\,-27j. ?6. This was slggested by O. J. Campbell, in Cout all Satlte dnd Shakespeare's "TroitB and crcssi'td \SzD Marino, ca]., 1938). He foliowed this book with an admirably senrnjve sttdy, Shahespearc's
.265.
NO?ES Otr' CEAPTER IlI
.tat'r
(New York, ,94j), whi.h has particularly valuable chaptes on
tlrosc diliicult plays ,\ledjurr lot r'teaturc, Timon al Athens, anl Coliola,6. xlr. Canpbell dei.ril)cs the tlo la!t$ as "tragicxl iarir.s. The referen.e ro HatuLet is r.s.ror':,o.- (rhe prnrce \ras elidend) rcading Juvenal ro.) Ii Chapman was lhe .iva1 pocr ol lvhom Shalcspeare speaks wirh such enq in the sorretr, ir is a lirde easier to see why, afrer Chapnar! oanslation had (a! least in part) appeared, Shakespeare should mke such a fier.e delight ii nishaDdljng Homcfs and Chapnan's heroical world. 11. Air 6 in Thc Deggals Opdfd, "Virgins are like the Iair Flowcr iD irs Lusrre," is a vulgarizatioD of a stanza fron Carulluts beautjful weddjDg song, 6!.40'48. ?8. Chorus of Peers, from i.L 1 ol lolanthe. 79. SergcaDt s song wjth chorls ot Police, f.om Act 2 ol The
Piaks
box-
TakF , \o b e', mi\ r'r"m \"11, 'L Take one spinster, gire he! HTake some togic, chop it thin;
-ldle som' rune. zrd rlFa in: One prrt' r {nB an/'ub don r fo-err
Il nfdtttrd
Ia
came out
in
1J62,
Il
Mezzopiorho ]n 116t.
Il
resbto
Notld, which Parini did not complete, were published a{te. his death, in r8ot. Although fte empty-headed )oung noblem2n is desdibed in eeneml tem!, and is a type whi.h ofuc! rccure in history
.266.
or dam"bit Rito. uot,;no 7 ,,Or io I inrgn€rd.,, tutth! pa'odiesot.t-c dida(ti, manncr in Md,i,o'So-S,.
PrF,c
..89. t tt Motttno
395'397,94'-943.
lold.l'ip d,esing. (.mp.,red ro A.hiIcs and Rinaldo, ..9o..His?4s2\11 M.ottila rhe nql' ot Crpid.nd tt\mFn. Vrlriro lrJig,l l'i3lord,hif. cnra6, d L, hh tui,drc$a , (aretpsnc$, tomprrpd ro a bull €nap,ng ftom rh. !trrihri,t attzt, Matttlo 54:ia54. ,t. \c,gjl, A?aei.t 2.2,3a?4 \taB in\o,pd ro 8id on hrs tord.iiir dre$ swo;J. ,rtfdrli'o 8o88,4. p'rini ,ompakc him,e ro top",,inging ar !h. b-anquir Bi\en bv Dido ro AFnFar and ro phpmius rhe minsupt ot Krng Ar. inouc in rhp odr r .. Mqzoercno j+1. R.o.P..ol thp Lqh s.\: a; -te Benrir Drmeegli am.biti (.rreni ^91. sho off.r "r,,jfr,e. 'haF ro 'hem.el\e;on rhe atrd,\ o"t F..hion, in Parinis dedicition ro his Doem t tlliPut,.. 6.fin. 5wjti pa,o.Jird one of tle nortd q BredrF,t qldactr, ".g2 poem( in his D, - rp!,on at o (.0 srod.i, rt_,Lh is i;.pirpd by rh. rarhq prognork.rion\ in veBjt, Crn,e,.r t.424457. znd tnph Boe\.n r^ pdod\ \en?,Iton A"n"i.t: tine, $.52 = te1.id 'he !.10-53.rinc. 1760 A"nad gfo-jihe poinr ot,he.arire i{ rh. lgnobl. elu:lo, of I he ( ir) a, , unu""red h VFrBitt I urdt and heroI
iab, plrodie, r
Take a little lolc. but hnshl Not enough to raise a blush: By dcgrecs you'll gct a Rather popular operetta. 83.
M"-DoEio,no 298-30' jr ad,pred from Ju\.nat r4.ja.J5. aa. Yope. Proloqu" to th. Sal es $8.
worlds. Tn,hi. rs in,o toan) orh., qri,i(rl 'rh ,rdi,. swjtr qJr rhe prede.e$or of.lqnes Joyce. Anal he was a devote.l anat skiltlul prrc_ p-o.e. an d,n,r on I ord Noiting list. Hi, tnt.ndp.) sp+.h apo,n,t
Your una..omlanied odette.
and
ttqeni, Mattino 6t.62. 8,. lhp m\dr oJ primirtrp equ,lirv. M",zo8jo,n,2.r5ojJ8. wilh sotuc rp\eDbtdnce ro I u(rFriui! pi,ru,c ot ;,imiri\. maniind in 5.925 9b7.
80. Bunthone's recitativc, trcm Act r of?at;?".d. 8,. Rutrercup 3 song, lrom l.ct 2 ol H.M.S. Pinalotc. 8r. ifhe parodt of Cilbert and srl]jrat is P.rlcurdncc, ot Holl a Cotonet,an EntireU original opetetta by Tmbat U vuUigan, Nitlt words by A. P. (now Si. Alan) Hcrberl ind nusic by Viviar Ellis. It Nrs produced in ,934 as part oI Co.hran's relue Shdarrirr. Tnc scene is the rcrace of lhe House of Comnons, $ith lishing-borts noored in fte Thames to provide a pi.turesque chorus of fisbinggirri. The plot tums on the fact that 1he Earl of Bnnion had tvin so.s, but nobodl knows whkh vas born fiist and whi.h slould lherelor. inhe.i! the title. The final .horus is ar once a criticism oI Gilben .n(l SullivaD and a parody of one of thei. most famous songs, 'Tale a p2i. oI spa.kling e_!es," trott Act 2 of .The Gondoliersl Take a dainty pandox,
Dre$ it like a cho.otate
NO'f ES ON QEAPTER 111 rft" nrp.. Rubetliuc Bl'ndus in 8,. \ri,t. ,onr"ml]o.a,iFJ re,^An,/rtlJuvenati Lim .q p,incc Alberi.o di Bclsioroe. 8a. ThF,e n d g^o,lbndl\.i, ot Con, hd,n\ ! qriri(ilno\el Oblanol, _lnp iuperfluos mdn. in,hdprprgo(MJn slon;nsoutt.n. ol Rur tian I ptatrte \orL. jq58l. 'Ncw 45, Mauina lg2lg1. 80. Flrri,rjng poct\, Meuogio,no gos-sjc: ,..onrilio di scmidei ahd indFFd insar,rc,Pote5)ir ptumc in
porir,.at omr;on: tis |,4d\at prcphtry. an a|zcl on the Du.hess of Somerser which is said to have ruined his chan.es of obr"ining prFt(rmpnr in rhF r\!rLtr. prrodie, a medietat do.umenr.. {nd alrl.ou8h I-'s glFar(.r horL n_no,. in lom. 1 parody. jt conuins parodi. di,rdrion.: rhp p.r,\ p\gmr.q ol Li ipur. rl,e gro$ Slanrs ol BrobdirgndS. rhe.quinr'n8 inrue, ruat, ot LapuLs. an.l Lhc frlL}v l Jhoo* arp rtrc,p nor p"rorli.i ot l,umJn being,? 9J. Jpnerrcn ro Langdon ,,8'o,. trcn A r"fle,$n r,afb L./'r,r. ed. S. p"doLFr \\Fw york, rq,r6). rq4.
.267,
a,
Rp.
NO?'S ON CHAPTER III 91. 95. poem 90.
Hoia.e, Sdrnorcr
1.10.44.
vetgil, Catalepton 4,6, ?, atd ,r imitale Catullus. The tentlr is a deler parody or catultus 4, Pnar./d illd.
chaucer, rtlr ?nofas rgt4rgts; Prc'logue ta Melibexs t (rto!t), ? (2,,8), and,! (!,,e). 97. S$jtt, Od.e to Dt. William sandoft late LotuL Atchbishop af
98. The Sapphjc-Horatian-Southe)in ode ?nd lr,ez.l ol Hunanity and the KnteG nder was wrilten by Gto{e Canning and John Hookham Frere. It was aimed at a parti.ular pocm ol Southey called The Wido@ and ar 2 patlicularly a$iduous member of the Soci€ty of Friends of tbe People, George Tiemey, Nl.P. (So NIr. Ddght Nlacdonald on p. 3l of his Parodl.r, New York, r960.) I lvish it did not remind me quite so stronCly of the lyd.s lor Schubetts tvintetvke. 99. "Peter Pindxr" {as John wolcot (r738.r8,9). He is vulgar
but sometnnes funDy. samples: A desultory way of wrilins, A hop and step and junp mode ot irditing, Ity great and wise relation, Pindar, boastedr or (ror I lole the Bard to flatter), By jerks, like Boar-pigs nrLing {ater.
(This is fron
Lrti. Odcs to the Roral Aedemiians, t'or 178),6. III on dis.ovedng. louse on his plate at dinner:
,-5.) Here is George
"How, how? Wrat, wha!? {hats thal, wha!'s t!a!?" he dies, with hpid ac.ent, and with slari'rg eycs: "Look rhcre, look the.er $hafs got into y houseT A Louse, God ble$ usl Louse, louse, lolse, lousc, lous€.'
(trc\n The Lo6iad, CanLo 1.) ,oo. c. s. cah'erley, Ca flcte woths (London, ,9,6). on pp. ?8p9 th.rc js a sweet Sapphi. Ode to Tobacco. r orr i, AJ). iwFcr. wh,I "re Sw€e!, shen they've clearcd away Lun.h; at the .lose of day Pos'iLly.w'"r.J ro,. Quored tuon Dwight n(acdonald, Pdfod;cr (Nerr Yo {, 1960) ,os. Borh Henry Reeds parody and l\{r. Eliots remarls appear on p. ,,8 ol Dwigh! Nfacdonald's anthology of patodies. \on, Cl.eto, OtoLat ,5r. There is no olhcr evidcnce lor tlre to4. Pape, ProlagLe ta the Satares 2o4, Thcrc is a good edition oI the rp6ri?la. Orr.rtatutu Virottm 'o5.notes and lnglish tnnslarion by F. G. Stokes (Londor, rgoo). wnh
,268.
NOTES AN CHAPTERS III.IV Conrad Dollenlopl's interpretations of Ovid (Mr. Stotes explains) are not pure lanrasy, bur are taken fron medielal paraphnses and commentarjes. As for his grotcsque etymologies (MAVORS = nares aorans; NIIRCVRIVS = mcrcatorum curius), rbey are no wo.se lhan Eome we find in Dedieval scholi2s$. Letrer r_43 is astonishingly frank in dealing wittr scxual scandal: after rcpearing, with horor, a srory
abour a monk making lore to a lrollop in Mainz Carhedrat, rhe conespoDdent goes on ro say drar the Order is really as bad as the
Templas once
were.
06. raor its firs1 ve$ion see A. \ead, L. T exte ptihitit' de td sat r. M dnipl)d. (P^tis, \818). toJ. rtor. settu. r.r.24-25. The satire was a composjre efior!. Irs Prin!,p,1 ronrriburor, sFre PienF I c Roy (hhn appdrcnrly rhoughr ,
or
jt fi'.rr.
Jc,n Pdre,ar. l-'oient Chre{ien. Nnotis Rapin. and
ro8.'Ihe complete "ceft]sbu.g Addres in Eisenhowese" apperrs on PP. 4.17-4.18 oI Dwight Macdonald's ParodieJ (New Yo.k, rq6o). ,oq. NorF. f,' in.r"n,e. frnpn Hrrinqr,dvs Tott"nts ot \ptng (,,r",). r b,;'l dou,he on sh-rwood cnderb,. jLella r,,tbon, col.i Camt'art Fdrm 093!), a chilting pastiche of Ensljsh novetists of lhe mystical Soil; ard Parodt Par,), ed. Leonard Ru$ell (London, r9q6), .oqtaining C).il Connollyt supcrb pirody of Aldous Huxley, To, ir Gari. Besides Mr. Macdorald's anrhology quoted above, ihere is a good .ollecrion edired by Burli.g Lowrey, Tuentieth.Century Pdtodr, Amerian and Brtrsl (New York, rq6o). rro. Clilton Fadiman, The lvoite at the Door., Iidn his p,rrN ot ore (New York, ,qi;). rrr. Peter De Vries, Requiem for a Noun, or I'truder in rhe
Du!l," reprinted ftom The Neu lortidl in Dwighr Macdonatd,s Pdrodtdr (N-cw York, 1960)-
IV. THE DISTORTI
N
G MIRROR
r. On the Eskimos and rhe NeSroes see R. C. Elliotr, The pouet ol sarir" (Prin.eton, ,960) 7ot4. F.om l. Douard, 'Tlre Dozens, rtc Amcticdn Imago I 0939) 3,,5 (a relerence which r o{e ro Mr. Elliott), it appears that rhe .ommonest form of Neglo abuse is an
irs lt to
the opponenfs morhei: Your ma behind Is like a runble sear. Ir hang from her back Down to her feer. T_he pe.uliar name irDozens ' may .omc from an obscene song in whi.h the singer counrs up from one ro twelve acts of sexual i;rei.ourse with his rtualt nother.
,269.
NO?'S ON CHAPTER IV
NOTES ON C1'IAPTER IV
Iooled. (r) The piece conlains many allusions to the contrasts god) (faat nonar.h) (lo,li ard Nelo nade a pDr on clNdiuts deaih
15. This is hom c. ?8 oI a verse adaprarion of
^nd rhe Greel sord lor "loo1" (suetonius Nctu ilvolving 33.4. (j) In contenporary Roman stana cvcutbita mcant 'fool (Pelronius 59),
crect Io. .z.zrrila is koroxJvon. {Gu rduJ also neant "Iool,' Quintilian !.5.5?: and so docs go,rde in moden French.) So
and ihe says
if we waDted a lypically slangy and vulgar titl€ to correspond to ,4lo.oloryrtoJis, we .ould .hoose ,optI.dt,o,. However, Mr. Robert Graves hassugge$ed rvith chaftcteristi. ingenuitr that the $ordmeans "€limination by.oloqnth," and that itrefen to the lact thrt Claudius, after his first dose of poison failed !o t*e ellect, was finished ofi with an enemz oI coloqnth adn,inistered by the expert poisoner Lucusta: colocynth, or sild pumpkjn, bcirg a pu.galive so powerlul as to be lethal in large doses. (when the sons of the prophets tasted it at cilgat, they cried out, and said, "There is death in the pot." See II Kings 4.18-4,.) This explanation, published in V. P. and R. G.
wa$ont Muiroo-r, Ru$ia, and Eistory New York, 1957), is certainly po$ible; but it is unlil<ely, because to attach such a name to the sati.e would be lor Sene.a to adnit that Claudius was mu!, dered, wbereas his death (althoush its concomitants are touched upon in chapters j and 1) is not represented as other than natulai. Claudius was murdered and duiy apotheosized in O.bber. In Derember came Lhe Saturnalia, shen nornal relations were turned upside down and jollity reigned supreme. Since Ctaudius is called ,lat!r,ati.ius PtihceFs in the ei+ltrr chapteiol dle ,rp".olo.rntor6, and since the whole piece is built on absurd confasts and violent reversals, it seems likely dht Sene.a wrore ir to be rad ar the Sarurnalia of Nero s fi$t year as Empel 16. Julian, Srnpost"m 336ab. The title by s'hich thc rvort is now
g€n€nlly known, The Although
it
Cdesars,
is not found in tbe
manuscripts.
is technically a N{enippean satire, blended ot prose and poFll!. rhflc dr€ v.n fF$ 'rJrrrr,s ol \r,,c ir it. 17. Quevedo, El Sueno de las Calatcl6t Jnpiter etaba vesrido 18. Drnte,Inletno 21. rq. Quevedo, Lat zahLrnas del Plutdn mcd., cl. Calardrar ad 6n.
,o. Vottaire, Midoalgar, c. 4. A contempo.ary sarirical .onedy on the same deme is Gore Vidalk delighrfui yisit ra d Small Plonet. 2r. The Singulat A.bentves al Barcn Mun.hause,, by Rudolph Raspe and othe.s, ed. J. Clar${ell (Nclv York, r9.r), Introducrion,
?2. Rabelais, Se.ond Book, c. 92. ,3. Rabclais, Se.old Book, c. ,ri Second Book, c. ?. ?4- There is a good edition of Caaton s nnglish translarion ol Reynatul bf D. B. Sano, (Cambridge, Mass., 1960).
'
nqaalrl by f.
S.
Xllh
(London, ,891). :6. chauce!, Nuu t Prie,'r Tdl, 33,*33,6. The poem has been translared into unrhymed pentametq [Dgtish couplers by c. w' Regehos under Chaucerh tide, The Boak ol Daun Bbnel the As (Auslin,'lexas, ,qiq). The Larin t.rt has been edited, with inuG duction and norcs, by J. H. Mozley and R. R. Raymo (Uniae$ity al Aaliforhia Englih StrdidJ r8, Berkeley, Calif, r960). ?7. OD these tso poems see F. J. X. Raby, fl6rory ol Se.ular Latin Poett, in the Mid.Ue Ages (Oxfo.d, 1934) r.?69-2t6 and ,.15r-,6?. 28- \he Metamotphoset, and a short creek venion oI rhe same plot (dubiously audbured to Lucim and .aUed Luciw or The Dorncr), are both probabty adapred tuom a lost creek rale by one Lucius oI Patrasj but Apuleius has pur a vast amourt ol his own experien.e and imagination into his book. ,9. The speech in whi.h Apuleius defended himself against rhe charge of precti.ing magic is his Apolagio or De Magi.a, one of rhe prin.ipal documcnrs for magic in antiquiry. There are aD old but still uselui edition by H. E. Butler and A. S. Owen (Oxfod, rqra) and a valuable study, Dt? Apolagie des Apuleius ron Mat).awd und die antihe Zaubeft; by Adam Abt (ciesen, r9o8). In the speech Apuleius is ralhcr vague about the relation between magi; and religion, whereas in the Metdnotpho$s he tnd.eBrands the difierence very well. Even allo{ing for his d$ire to maLe tishr of the charses again{ him. i, hoLrd aDpeaIhlr l-F xrotP tnp M.tondpho,e, at a stage of his lile. For the larer belief iq his w;ardry, see the le(er lrom Marcellinus to St. AugusriDe, asking {or hetp in his discu$ions wirh pagans sho said that the niracles of Jesu; were less jmportant than tnose ol Apollonius, Apuleius, and otheB; with Sr. Augustine s reply: CSEZ 44, ed. A. cotdbacher (Vienna, t9o4) 136.r and rs8.,9. Zo. Sltuid quan similis, turqissima bestia, hob6! So said Enni s in one of his satires: Iragment 23 on p. 39o ol l/armington s arag mentt af Old Lotin I (Cambridge, rqji). y. Greatauh, tl.u. du skull, m;niste de la guette, appears jn Book 6, c.t. Porpoisia h la Mr6o"tnt., inhabiled bl lcr,va'jori,r, a $,ord
which, dela.hed f.om zooloS_y, means lusly brurs." Is ir po$ibte ihat Anatole Innce could have been thinking of lhe Gemai? 3?- E.g. this senknce in Book 6, c. r,: 'I-e gouverneDent de la r€publique dcneun souftis au conrrOie des grandes .ompzgnies financjeres, I armCe .onsacrde ex.lusivement n la dtfense du ;apirat, la lotte destinde u\iquemenr ) fournir des .ommandes aB mdral ,"1,1.
n..o *, c. 3; and BooL
8, "Les Temps
lutuis: l'histoirc
sans
Ir'O?'S ON CHAPTER IV nrber dhn unlikely po$ibiliries.'
34. "l,ikely imporsibilities (Aristotle, roclid rl6oart).
Iron
an article in the I'aris rtagaznre,r'rr (r!6r). His Monhel fi/,ld also .o.tainsiome delt satire on Xnglish snobbcry. Thus, the chimpan?ee [mily learns to currsey, and sonilers iI she is to be presented at cou alxer reading in a socicty paper: "In lnghnd the P -pariicularty mare rakes precedcn.e of all but Royal Dukes." (chapter t.) t7. Hor. .ldrn. Lr.?4. 38. Burler, Eudtbrar, Part r, Canto ,. r39 r42. 39. s{ift, Mr. Couinls Ds.autse al Ftee"Thinhing (11t3]]. 40. Swih, Polirc Contetsat;on, The Th;td Didtogue. 4r. So (ieslirgHeinze in their edition, and [. Fraen].el in pp. to!,rs ol his se sitively wriLren Hance (Oxford, r95?). 4r. Lejal in nis adxrinblc edjtion of rhe satires poinrs ro rhe conffast in lines !7 to 33 of the pocn; on ihe one hand, Ilae.enas, ci,e:,., \tr\o.'nil tonr,ru.C.tiro: ni',-orhFrl"nd. ".,. srFJr rnq m) sn'( e\e\ {jth bln.k oinrmenr. r.r. Ho,d,e.i irl ,i"i';.pa,qu.,inra're. s",a ".6 lo',8. Nn'.rt-2, n,.r/ tl.,r h" m,l, rnc iournF(.o Brurdic;u.n. trorJ,p hrd jun re.ently becorre o!c ol Mae.enats jnrimates. 4.J. The idea srs.opicd in Engl'nd b,v Oh,e. Goldsmith, st,os. atriable Citizen of the World (rt6o 176r) was a Chinese. 15. Thc sfiuctute of Aristophanic coDedy $as nst c].rjfied by rtrc brilrhnr:Iadcuv Zielimti, Die Gti.detuns det attotlischen Komijdi. 35.
36.
(,88rr).
46. P"ntagruel contaim Parnrgc wjthin
}in$tl
(as is shown.
Id
instance, br dre lavsuit in ch.pte6 ro ro,B ot the s.cond Bool), aDd hc contxins lriar John, wnhoul the weaknrses of eirhfi.
{7. These satid.al s.ncs are tuom vohaire's Cardtd.,... rr-r2l Wa\Eh s / Hdkr|fll al Drr, .. 6, .,A c6lc de .hez Todil": G/lir.rt 1'nuk, Btob.Iingnag,.. S; Iuvcnal 6.4!51jji alct S*jfL, The Ladfs 48. This is fiom a good slud! of Str2cbey by a man wlo knei,nim years, Clire Bell s Old hien.ts (New yo.t<, lqnt) 3r. O. Henrl was deeplt sympatheric ro the men rvho gare him rhe 19. material hc used rrr Gsntlc c/alrsr. Thcy were hjs tellos.conlicts in the penirentiiry at Colu,nbrs, Ohio, aDd they totd hjm the stori.s when he n,ade his rouDds rt night as a pharmacist, feating minor ailn,cnts. (sec pp. t ar) t42 ot The Cal4t1 ol Bdgtad, by R. H. Daris
fot thirty
and A. B. lvauri.e. New York, rqgr.) 50. Another satiric ioucn sli.h rraders sho do not lnow pe$'an will c.rtainly miss is rhat Mori.r gale som. ot his.l,tr.a.teN nam.s whi.h, to rhe urinsttu.ted, sound well, bDt dte .l.ni8rarorvr rrirzr
NOT'S ON CIlAP'IER IV Ahnak (Docror rool), (-inard KhAn (Lord Coward), an.l MuIn Nddan rrhe Reverend lgnommut. (thi. i\ trom t.. c. B,ownes inr.odu.'ion .o tt tit; Boba i..'.Fd br rh. Lrr ^d I.dilon. Crub, New York, 19,17-) Distorred or^.ridiculous namcs are alwars a sure siEn ol sd n e. \o ,n cudol r /a.t,,,o,. Lhe, t-iet or pati. ( i. , JtlcJ sr \o?nik-
Dmurh.rcsh rhp ih^^l "upprinreadrnt Hlopov. and rtre judge Irrplin.l!Jpi,in: rl(,' ndnF, mF"n. :ougt,1). Ra"alpu Up. acd-
buS. and Bun8ie.\r.rl {l oqe rl-i. ro rhe rcre. i rh" rtuD"t"rion b) J. L. sF.Dour and c. R Nnvr|n l cd*r-r; Tfto.tt) ol th? Ifi"d/rd, vol. reri.Fd edirior. Npw \;,r. ,9i8) '. 5 . Or' rl- p' '.o'e,,. 'hr \d,1'.d.r( ), r.,. At l-ou8t, pe,ronius $". worli,r,,, rlF,lFdium or rr.nipp,ir.ari,", hp had ttora(es satires
in mind. (He admned Horcce, for he coineil the elegant epi.
rr',. t to,d,.i ....to,r ,4i,,a. , t-tr. bjnl;er ir. F\t,l'r"'n'. I'u,r. ir',ohp.i18,FitirB. "nd irq hn"t flight of the guests, is a huac expansion _$uesomeot Sern. !.8: and ihc lcg,.vhunting incidenr, sdr- ra,, is a variati"" ." . 1h".";".; Hurr,, ...,rjrc.r 1s., \ r,u r' r,. \"r,.2.J,q4 bb. br. From O. $reinrekh s exceuent infoducrion ro his Ron6.,td sar;re, (Znrich, r91!) .!,crrr, I learn dur the banquet of Trimal.hio was ena.led bt noblemen aDd ladies ar rhe court of Hanove. jn gr"m shi, h d-, -ibF i'i\
n."lf.
rirl
r7o2, apparently with no idca that thel wcre mimicking ihc canaile;
ard again ar St. Cloud during the regenq of rhe Duke of Orteansj rnJ rhI rr,Jqi.t t,, L,( $ro,.. uoFri. I.-,.r tr,i,:,.C I i,,hFt ', r hnAt rir,n ,'re lo, ,nJinr. inir'A a, ui.irF murF 81or. tu\u,) or Nc,o, rime- rh" f'FF,h .,,rol.,r l, nT" Ldr.oninn. in hi, DnJ) L.tp in An i"nt Ron. ,,r. L\ l O. Lorir",. \Fh Hrrpn. Conn.. ;o4ol. built heavilv on Pctronius. It lvoutd bc inrerestins r. *" o"A' " or Iit" n th" U"r.J (,a.a ba.FJ p".r\ on ,\. don;ri, n ,nn"r. Louis B- Ilarer d Al Capone. ID the.sdrl/t.a, the anred disgusr ot trncolpius and his fricnds is lrequcnrlv rnderline.l: at fiNr ir;ni. .ally-admir.tiorr saluri (r8.0), nihil anplius inreirogaui De u erer numluam inter honestos .en (4r.5)-and trren Do.e mo.e 'e (54.r), cun Asqlros . .a,d t.aDkl): hoDrinen ram putidum . omnia sublatis manibns rluderet er usque ad lacrin.s rnterct (.r?.t, ciron .. . risum ia,n dn, comprc$um. . . .fiudir (58.,), ror natorun finis (6e.6), puder ftIerre quie secuntur (7o.j:?), jbat res ad emhan nausean (t8.5), ro the fina1 crclpe
lbn
the inrolerable, ram ptane
quan cx incerdio (?8.8). 53. RCgnier is iispired in ro.ji.og bv Hor. s'm. r.9r his ponrait of the pedant (,rrt ?a,) .oncs from capor.lih Det pedanie, eft\
rltj and rhc pa$age !9o.3r7 ibcluding lhe ourageous .omparison oI the soup full of dcad flies ro the cutf of Pahas tu1l oI lloatn,g srccks aller Leprnto-from Crporatit S,p,, to rl\e jokc p.detenptin in
NO?!S ON CHAPTERS IV'V la corte. The sequel (sar. ,r), in which he loses htu way and is ofiered a miseiable lod8ing and lively enlertainment b) a lady oI free disposnion, is inspird in part by the episode oI Polyaenos md circe in Petlonius, sar. rrGrlg (wlicn i actually quoted in !?9-!4q) and in pari by the more apprdpriately sordid incident in Peronius, 51.
Wztgb, vile Bodies, c.
8.
Dt CdtC .le chez S@aa', Deuxieme Pafti€. 56. Th€ wil€ gives her husband long curtain lectures: "mai ne' b5. Pronst,
lor lelti non si dorne' = Juvenal 6.,68 ,69 (but Boccaccio goes on to report one of the le.tures, in fine conlersational Italian). Even the nost charle would ralher have one eye than one nan = Jua. 6. 53 54. Wives go ofi to brothels and return '\tanche ma non sazie"
= Iuv.6.11513r. They wili not go anywher€ with their husband, but they ale brave in lacing disgraceful adventures = Juv. 6.94-10r. ''Nothing is harder to endure than a ricn wile = luv. 6.460 (now thougbt spurious, but betieved in Boccaccioh tine to be authentic). They know what h done in India and SpaiD, they know the source of the Nile, who is pregnant, everything : Juv. 6.4o,-1,e. Thet tea.h their darghters how to rob husbands and to ieceive .iandestine
lette$ from love$ =.Juv. 6.13r r4r. They deny their guih even shen taken in the act = Juv.6.q79-285, with an inpudent variation: "non fu cosi: tu menti per la gola"-no doubt inspired by medieval stories of the t ckery oI eomen, lile De.4D.'on 7.9. 5t. Ludetius 4. r,73-rr84. 58. Juvenal 6. 461464,471112. 59. E.9., Te.tullian, On the Aostume
al
IItomen. The Eanlet
quotation is 3.r.r5!!5r. 60. Boileau, sar- ro. r95aoo.
Tld Lddy\ Dt*singRooh
43-50. The sane topic ieSc4etilul young Nlnqh Coing to BeL i\ c. b olBtobdingagi atd, with a typical S*iltian elaboration,in Strcphak and chloe, a poem whose point is that ever a gitl who apparently does not swear (The use of the idealistic pastorat
6r. Swift,
appears in Srviftr
I
names Sfephon and Chloe is parodic satire.)
6r. Swili, ?lid Legian Club rr9 23o. Another eighteenth century satidst greatly admired r:Iogarthr Geory Christoph Lichtenbcrg ('7+, 1799), o.e or $hose last works was an lBlrlift;che Etkt&ung
der Eagatthischen Kupt'etstiche (ijga). It hther shocked coerhe, wlro prererred the Antique. See C. Brinitzer, A Reasonable Rebel (tr. B. smith, New York, ,q6o) ,8,.
V, CO\CLUSION r. The fullest discu$ion of the origins of th€ name ra&ra in antiquity is in Diomede in vol. 1of Keilt Graftfrrtt.i Ldtini 485.20.
'276.
NO
?ES O QEAPTER
V
The connecrion between lood and !),pes of Ute.aiure is hiLrih and inlo,marjvFly di.!u,.Fd b) O. \\1inre,,b, n6n:,(4p S,/n/i (Zii!i.h, rq4q) x xrv.
486.16.
!. In Greec€ rhere w€re satyr.plays, in which mylhical themes rre ed ligh'lv wirh roull'tr ot CrorP,quF,ir anJ )omdn(r. they
were
we'. d(tFd arrer
khich ecLn,omprring du.ho'r
Lhe rhree
'rd8edieq submined. TlFv it,o have notrring rt,tever ro do ri.h carirc. Thp pdsagp qtu,0" i! I i\a 7.r. hhich dF\(rib;ng rhrre 3. sele . isAeDerally believed ro be ba6ed on Vano. One other Do;ible de.iva, tion lor rar,ru Jhould be men,ionFd: ,he F rru".an h;rd rdr,,_ *h,, h me"ns "speelh. But we Inow only rhh word. drd have no orher e\jdence ro srpporr rhe connecrion.
lor inqqn(p \reriuss to,at iotpr' abour rhe tivorire pr";nsr" and Lanuvium, and hir(hrrfring,ha,"(ter.ql(cr,h ol rhe.oque,te l,om r,renrun: L H. Wamingron. t tuCd" taJ Otd Loti4fi rcrmbridgF. Mi$.. 1936, 8o-8r.nd.3in' 5. 1F n;e g, on rhap'er r ot rhk book, paE. e5o. 6. Ho Ce. S.'u oz.r '.,.?4. 7. Penius Lr !9'!3. 4. spc.
deli, a, ie, ol p.ople trom tne rowns of
8. Juvenal ,.30.59 and 6a-tr. 9. Juvenal r.8!87. ro. Juvenal r.r47,r?r.
An inr-.liqFnr (onremporan a!Lhor. paoeta Hansrord-John ',.ha\_(a,d €n. quirr franLlv, qd.ire i:,hppl .+ rrm"lt quoFd$irh
approval by her husband C. p. Snorr in his recent S.ien;e and Gord/zuerr. Si. Charles adds, .,It is the revenge of tho$e who canl reaUy (omprrhcnd ,1,. world or.opc ri'h it." !hi,h i\ a naruEl ,ommenr tor a man hl o ddm,,,: nh.F$ o',r i, ,jll e .r,tri.ing in , novpti.r " who himseu uses sarire so deflty. r!. See a biel bur interesting alticte by M. Mack, ,The l,Iuse oI Sa!ire," in Sredt.r in the Litetuturc ol the AugEtan Ase, ed. rt. C.
Bo\s rAnn Art'or. Vnl'iJan, ra5?. /r8rJr. Mr. \ta,k,halt.n8c, d'e bcli-l ot m"nv,ri'i(. thdr s',"e ext,ars rl.e ra8p hrre ot rhe 5arn i{ him"Fll. S irc. h" .b)\. xoutd b. beue|I "d,ed "rd i) a t rdnrh
of rhetoric. He sire$es what he .alls th€ .,fi.lionatity, of the speake. in Popet formal sarires. It is a misrake, he conrinues, to beliJe rhar we hear de voice of Alexander Pope; whar we hear is thar oI a p"t ona. v\o i, sone,ime, a proje,,ion of thp idear $rnisr. \ome. ri'n.. an in8;nu som..inp\ a publjc dptFr dFr. I hi! reFm) to mp ro be a uselul cavear for readers of nafative satires, even when th€y are aubbiographical in formr E..olpius is not petronius, and cutii_ ver is not Swi{t (alihough sonetimes he resembtes him prett.tosely). Naturally n is true {or sarires in rhe lorm of p^rody. A.d ir is true, '
277.
NOTE,S ON
C
HAPT ER V
wirlin limitFlor nonologue srtires. Yet it lvould, in mv vicw' be iliffcult !o maintain tlnt in most nonologue salires (if they arc dtensibly spoken by the satirisi) there is oore 6.tion Lhan ttuth Thus, tlie ;alirist olren tclls trs iacts whi.h aPPII to no olc but himselt: Pope h his prologue io the satits givcs tis addrc$ r_ I tl lT Ii Nl,, Jr,r:b(. l-b "t P, ",rn F ard rame' I i' P "Ii' ul-r qgr'n, alrl,ough sti_. r'F rlerori DpraonJl lriFn l, rrd eneIri'.. io.. eves ',r" ".J iupp,' $ anJ. nio''. \Ft r,rF ,h"roLi( rr i' ul' fl rion notc rruth Lhin pora bi irs h..rc'. ,o " 'u'r 'nu, ' \ Iclr' B i' IP" PdrP\F' JnJ ind to l, ir'pr'..1 o1 en rio' 'Scnuil'e 'J bv its write;. One of lhc srealest of them wel.omed de.Lh as the filrl cure lor the torments oI the tyPical satiic emoiion, "Gue1 in.lignation, which he s2id .ould then no longer iend his heart (So ssitt, in his cpiuph.) ,tj lhi. rrl.rm"rion o,trs ''om J Nt Loh"n ' inrrodu(riun ro his nerv translarion of Rabclais (i'ensuin Books, 1955). !i. Dryden, preface, To rhe Reader, ,4bsalotu an.l Achitophel
,,. RrLpld'.. l i J
Boo\.
, . ,'r,5 'nd !, ,r: thr id.dl Prinr,'
BRIEF BIBI,IOGRAPHY (t) cotqusculun
Ludibundae. (11 Paradia et Ar.hestmtlr, ed. P. Brandt (LeiFzig, t888)i (r) siltoyaphi, ed. C. l'achsmuth (I-eiPzig, t885') An excellenr edition i,l the Greek mo.k cpic Poems, Packed so tightly xith intormation that it is dim.ult to use, but in_ valuable lor special;sts. G) J. W. Duf, Rotnat' Satirc (Stthet classical Lectures P, Pacrs r.piLae Gtatcae
Berkeley, Cal., r9j6).
Short and attractilcll Nritten introduclory discussion
ol Satite (Pr;nceton, 1960). An intclligent b L sDmelimes conlusiltg book rracing the ind m"liFe ir roor. ot \.iiJ h",k o p'ini i\e "eroniP. jn,a, P n'\ LF dift, rrir I' idFJ ,rion. aLin ror rn:.gi.i, 'prrral (3) R. C. Elliott, Thetouet
to aat€pt, but X{r.
Illktt wcll conrcls the violence
bariveness uhich lie
aDd con
telind mosr satir;c wriiing.
l. GelTcken, "studien zur griechis(hen sarire,' N/rl, :7 (rqrr) :9q'4, r and 469.4,1:. A brilliant essay on s.ttirical rvriliDit in Greece outside the drama; packed wilh uncommor inlontation and suggcstive (a)
ideas.
(5) L Ja.k,
lrglsrai lktive: lntentian
and'
Idiam in EngUth
Poetry r66a.'7 50 (Ox{ord, rqir). Carefut and sensirile anrllsis of su.h grcat Poenrs a! HudiL)ns, Absalam and A(hilaqhel, and The Rape at' the I'.ch, and of the tirerarl aDd spirilual worlds h lLhicli rhey werc crealed
(6) tr. Johnsgn,I Trcasut\ of Satirc (Ne$'York, 1945). A finc big anlhology 0f excerpts trom work$ $'hi.h are eithcr wliolly or in part satiric together with a heartil) lvritren introduclion, appreciativc rather than analyiical.
(t)
U. Knoche,rtd rrfltr./,. sart/s (G.itting-cn, r95t':). A soberly $rittcn boa( by an exPert classicist: covers ncarly
cvery essenrial fact.
(8) Dwight llacdonald, Prradies: an .4ntholag lram Chaucer to Beerbohm-dnd allrr (New York, t960).
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