Recently we acquired a first
edition printing of Fables
in Slang by George Ade, published in 1899. The
stories in this collection are so entertaining, so over-the-top, that we
decided to share a few of them with you.
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*
George Ade is often compared
to Mark Twain. Both men were born in the
Midwest in the 19th century and wrote
for newspapers as young men. Gifted with
wit and humor, the two authors enjoyed long and celebrated careers. However, while Mark Twain’s books are still
in wide circulation, the works of George Ade are not as well known today. Nevertheless, George is finding a new
audience among 21st century readers due to his gently satirical –
and timeless -- take on life and relationships.
Released in 1899, Fables in Slang became a
bestseller. One of the first things I
noticed about the stories is that George capitalized many nouns, and sometimes
verbs, for no apparent reason. This peculiar
habit adds to the silliness of the stories.
George also had an efficient
and quirky way of describing characters and their predicaments, in a few, quick
strokes of the pen.
Here is an example from…
THE FABLE OF THE SLIM GIRL WHO TRIED TO KEEP A DATE
THAT WAS NEVER MADE
Once upon a
Time there was a slim Girl with a Forehead which was Shiny and Protuberant,
like a Bartlett Pear. When asked to put Something in an Autograph Album she
invariably wrote the Following, in a tall, dislocated Back-Hand:
"Life
is Real; life is Earnest,
And the Grave is not its Goal."
And the Grave is not its Goal."
That's the
kind of a Girl she was.
In her own
Town she had the Name of being a Cold Proposition, but that was because the
Primitive Yokels could not Attune Themselves to the Views of one who was
troubled with Ideals. Her Soul Panted for the Higher Life.
Alas, the Rube Town
In all the
Country around there was not a Man who came up to her Plans and Specifications
for a Husband. Neither was there any Man who had any time for Her. So she led a
lonely Life, dreaming of the One—the Ideal. He was a big and pensive Literary
Man, wearing a Prince Albert
But the
Party failed to show up.
*
* *
George Ade wrote these
fables during the Industrial Revolution.
People were leaving farms and small towns and moving to big cities. In this era, women gained more independence,
education increased in importance, and opportunities to build fortunes
abounded. George’s writing reflects this
dramatic change in the American way of life.
His stories are typically
short and energetic. Just as they’re
getting started, suddenly they’re over.
Perhaps our great-great-grandparents liked their entertainment in short
sound bites, just as we do today. In the
tradition of Aesop’s Fables, George tacked a moral onto the end of each
story. The moral might make sense…and
then again, it might not.
Most of the stories flow
very well, considering how long ago George wrote them. The American English language has evolved
just in the past decade; imagine the changes wrought by nearly 120 years! It’s inevitable that some of his references
are a tad obscure, so the modern reader has to interpret the author’s meaning
from the context of the sentence, the paragraph, and the entire story. These fables are therefore like a game, a
verbal maze with twists and turns.
The next story I would like
to share with you is about an obsessive baseball fan. Considering that baseball was invented only
about fifty years before this story was written, the sport already had loyal,
rowdy fans who could talk about nothing else.
And now…
THE FABLE OF THE BASE BALL FAN
WHO TOOK THE ONLY KNOWN CURE
Once upon a Time a Base Ball Fan lay on his Death-Bed.
He had been
a Rooter from the days of Underhand Pitching.
It was
simply Pie for him to tell in what year Anse began to play with the Rockfords
and what Kelly's Batting Average was the Year he sold for Ten Thousand.
If you
asked him who played Center for Boston
More than
once he had let drive with a Pop Bottle at the Umpire and then yelled
"Robber" until his Pipes gave out. For many Summers he would come
Home, one Evening after Another, with his Collar melted, and tell his Wife that
the Giants made the Colts look like a lot of Colonial Dames playing Bean Bag in
a Weedy Lot back of an Orphan Asylum, and they ought to put a Trained Nurse on
Third, and the Dummy at Right needed an Automobile, and the New Man couldn't jump
out of a Boat and hit the Water, and the Short-Stop wouldn't be able to pick up
a Ball if it was handed to him on a Platter with Water Cress around it, and the
Easy One to Third that ought to have been Sponge Cake was fielded like a
One-Legged Man with St. Vitus dance trying to do the Nashville Salute.
Of course
she never knew what he was Talking about, but she put up with it, Year after
Year, mixing Throat Gargle for him and reading the Games to him when he was
having his Eyes tested and had to wear a Green Shade.
At last he
came to his Ninth Inning and there were Two Strikes called and no Balls, and
his Friends knew it was All Day with him. They stood around and tried to forget
that he was a Fan. His Wife wept softly and consoled herself with the Thought
that possibly he would have amounted to Something if there had been no National
Game. She forgave Everything and pleaded for one Final Message. His Lips moved.
She leaned over and Listened. He wanted to know if there was Anything in the
Morning Papers about the Condition of Bill Lange's Knee.
Moral: There is a Specific Bacillus for
every Classified Disease.
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