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: 3 13
Monologue: Juvenal or tranc 3
Parody: Pope on the Dark Age b
Narrative: Voltaire on optimism 8

These are the thrce main pattems of satire r3-r1

How to aletermine wheiher a work is satire or
14'23
The author names his genus r5
The author quotes a satiric pedigree r6
Thc rurlror Lhoo(Fs J rladitionall) ,rriri.
subjecr r6
The author quotes an €arlier satirist r6
The theme h concrete, personal, topical r6
The vocabulary is forcibie and the texture
varied r8
Typical satiric devices ar€ used r8
The satiric emotion i, pr€sent

II. DIATRIBE 24-66

r. TJI E SATIRIST'S IfONOLOCUE 2+52

The beginnings oI satire in Rome:
Lucilius and Horace
The satiri. \pi'ir in CrFe,e: 2b
Old Comedy 25
Bion of Borysthenes 3o
Philosophical c ticism 35
Personal abuse 37
Social satire 38
 qONTENTS ltoN7tN7S
Satirc as the monologue of rhe satirjstl 39 The Battl€ ol Frogs and. Mice 8o
Rome: Lucilius, HoIace, Pcrsius, Byront r/irion ol ludgnent 83
Juvenal, Claudian 4\ Titi^t Laocoon
s 89
Greece: Lucian, Jul;an the Aposlate Musical parodies 9o
Dark Age and MidcUe Age 44
Itenaissance and Baroque 47 3, THE HOAX -A. S SATTRE 92 ro3
N{odern tim€s: Byron, Hugo, Campbclt, Montgomery's double 92
and contemporaries 48 The Captain of Kitpenick 93
The "Dreadnought" hoax 94
Rabelais' propheci€s 97
5r-66
, .Swift and Parrridee 98
Sxtire as the monologue of the victim:
EIasmus, Browning
5r " Hya(inthe MaRlrnovitcb 99

Satire as an ironic monolomei Romaint

55 "n?Pa&
V Swifts xlod.st p, o p'o'o I 5i 4, TYPES OF LITNR^RY PARODY ,o5,47
6r Mock"heroic and burlesque ro5
Satirc as a prearranged diatogue 6? Pamdies oI difierent literary forms:

lnhovert :rnd extravert monologucs 6b

Lucilius and Juvenal
III. PARODY 61-147 Battles of rnim'ls
Boile ns Le.tcrn
I. PARODY AND MIMICRY 6i'8o Dryden's Absalom and. Achitophel and.
Parody di[ers lrom distortion and imiradoD bv ns Mac Ilecknae ro8
intenLion ard its eilecr 67 Pope's Rafe ol the Lock and Dunciad r09
Swift, De Calliires, r'ielding r09
Sometimes it ispossible !o distingnish formal
parod), from matcrial parodv: 69 Joyce's Urysrer 109
Tassoti's RaFe ol the Bucket
FlotNman's aragnel,i rf a haek TtugedJ 69 Scauo\'s Y er gil T ra, estie d
Bums's Hol) Ilillie's P' ayer Voltaire's Maid. of Orleans
Pegl€r: n4)' Da)
Stand.ard Speech to the United. Nations
73 ^ rr3
'i5
Atraham a Sancta Clara t6 Petronius's ,tdirira r14
Laboucheres God Saft the Q_ueet1 71 Rabelais and Ariosto 1r5
Wordsworth and self -parody 78 Cet\t^ntes' Don Quixote Ir6
2. PARODY BluLlet's Hudibras r19
80 9,
Form and maner inrerpenetrare in mosr good Arhtophanes
parodies: The phryahes
Fielding s Tom Thumb the Great
 CONTEN?S CON?EN?S
Shelte y's O e diqus Ty r annus OUT OF TT,IIS WORLD I59'I?7
r59
Beerbohm s " Sannarola" Broun
Shakespeare\ Ttoilus and Cressida 123 Swift's Gullhrer's Traw& r59
G^y's Beggafs OPetu r2.N Jern de Hauteville s Man ol Many Sonows t6o
"Butler's
cilbert and Sullivan nrranot? 16r
"Mym Buttle" 's Suddrlidd 1,5 Maurois lrricoler 16r
More and Rabelai, 162
1,8
1?9
r6r
Padnit .Da)
MeDippus '63
r3r Ariosto and Milton '63
Aristophanes and the young VerSil '32 Rabelais Epistemon r64
Chaucer's str rlofar r32 Sene.n s Punrkinihatton of claudius r65
r33 161
'_,.swift 1 \'ria'r.'s D t in kin
g-P at t y
The Anti-Jacobin r33
Quevedot ririoflr 168
Rejected Addre'"es r3+ r69
Calverley and Swinburnc r35 ,!'lo]taile's
Mi.ronegas
Wilson's Omd,el of A. MacLeish '36
: 156
Bellamy and Wells tll
Pla.o's Mene'Nenus r37
Orw ell's N ine teen Ei ghtY'F our
L.ttef ol Obscure Men '38 Iltxley's APe an.l, E r73
The MeniqPean Satire r4o
Il[\ley's Braw Neu 'cnce
worltl 11-4
Knox's Ersdrs tn Satire r42 Mayakolsky's .Brd6rg r14
Jensen's G? tryrbt'g ,l d dress in Eisenhouese 43
115
143 Raspe's Mtn.Ia,s?u 11!
Fietdinl's I ose P h An * eu s r43 Cartoll's Al;cc rt5
H.atre s Condensed Nolels t41 L,rciar.'s Trup HistotY r76
Ree\bohm's C hristmat Gar lan d r,t5
r46 3. ANIMAL TALES t11.19o
Fadiman on IVoUe
De Vries on laulkner r47 Rqna . the Fox rt8
Nigel's Footu' Mt'aot \19
r.i. THE DIsToRTING The Ptisonefs Exit r8o
\pntefts' M e tan r8r
V' \lrRRoR l4a-230 otqh os es

/ lwiftt
Houyhnhnms
r48-r59 '8s
1. SATIRE AND TRUTIiI Fnnce s PenTuin Island
'8,{
r85
Narrative is the third main folrl ol sarire 118 Orwell's Animal Farm
The neighbors of satire: r5r Aristophanes' B;rdr and fi/arPs
Invective and tamPoon r5r 'Ihe aapeks' Ins€ct comedy r8?
"FIYting" t52 I' tonescos Rhino.eros
'87
Comedy and farce r51 Peacock's Sir Oran Haut-Ton
'89
The shapes oi satidcal narrative Collier's His ttonkey W;f e r89
'56
. xi)i '
' rii .
 CON?'N?S CONTLNTS
+ DISTORTDD
r9o:()6 Brant's ShiP af raok
Flatbett s Bouuard. and. Pldt.h"t r9r ltoc.accio's Coutbash
Wavgh's Declhe and FaIl r93 Lucretius, lloiteau, Swifi on $omcn ?,6
Lewis, Peaco.k, Huxtey Hogarth's Gin Lane" ?,8
IIccarthy and Ja ell r96
r96
v. coNCLltstoN 231-244
1

r98
Dickens Pichtuich Pdpers
s ,98
Waugh s S.o/i l(rrg r ,4Iadptn Eu take
Meaning of fie $ord "satire"
r99
Cer\rD[es ron o,t\./P r99 ,33:38
Grinrmehhausenis S imp Uciss;mus
Satire tel1s the truth; but $'hich trulh?
Bfton t Dan luan
Two iypes of satirist 235
Florac€k journ€y to Brindisi
Linklater's luan in Ameri.a r38 r43
waugh's B1d.li Mischiel and 'rhe Lourt
Motivcs of die satirist: 238
Personal grudges
Nfontesquieu's Psrrtan lctters 205
sense of inferiori!y and injustice
5. THE STRUCTURtr OI SATTRTC Wish to amend vice and folly 241
STORIf,S AND PLAYS ,o6-er3 D€sire to make an aesthetic pattcrn
Episod;c: ?rl O!rlglasr Idealism
Improbable: Romains' ,r. ,(zo.t ,08 245
Shocking: Rabelajs' Panurae
Comical: Petroniuss SatyrlTa 247 -278

6. IIISTORY AND ,r3-2r9 279-2ar

Gibbot\'s Decline and Lall af the RDnan 2a3,301
EntPire er3
Strtcltef 's Emin ent V ict orians ?t6
Le Sage's Ctl Blas 2r8
Mottet's Hajji Baba al Ispahan 2t8
F ielding s I onathan W ikl. the Creat rr8
I"SCRI?TIVE SATIRE ?r9-r3o

Pctronitx\ Banqr?f of Ttimabhio

R€gnier and Boileau
Dickens, Waugh, Prousr
 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 j,.i,,'r ' . r
\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 minds-
Voltaiie, 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€w-
ing stale clich6s and dead conventions. Where other pat-
t(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 in-
cvimble 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
 INT&ODUCAlON
noxious gases belched from a million motorsare shorLening
our lives. Juvenal lived before the age of the int€rnal com-
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 topi-
cal 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$rpPcar. The poor viciims' corPses lvill vanish
rrn rltlcrlY as their soulslt
A grucsome Picrure. And yel, in a grim way, funny'
Wlrcrr the ambulance arrives, Lhe interne will write on
his
Iorn D.O.A., rvhich stands not for the clrstomary "Dead On
Arrival," bu( for "DisaPpeared. Oblirerared- Annihilated"'
Al(1, although exaggerated, there is a truth in this satire'
I'mllic is toJ much rvi*r us, late and soon; it is corroding
olrr newcs and amicdng our health; and, one of these days'
lrtllc(s wc escape, iL will cru'h us olrr o[ exislence lo lhis
ar)caimcn we r;, ogniTe I he ( har a' Ier i'l i' fearur e' ot sat
ire:
/li ir Lopicut; ir .laim' to be realirric ralrhouqh it is usL'all)
'exrrgliiiGd or di.torred): I' i. 'IofLiler ir i" informal:
nrrri' ialthough o{ten in a grotesque or Painful manner)-it
h funny-. And this is on€ of the tyPical forms.assqmed.by
tlllirc: a s virtuallb-yi!h-olr! illErr"plio"
i.iilloi t ims.tt, or a moufiPiece of the
r\norher sacirist treats a more important theme in a dif-
ia , r,..1
l'(rcnt an.l more ambitious manner. The history of the
Irrl|nan race is a strange succession of light and darkness
lllicf and exciting rhe bright periods usually are, long and
rl l)born the yea$ 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 uni-
vcr$ities diminished or disaPpeared. The sciences were lor:-
skills or rude crafis-
l{,l.tcn. The alts shrank to miniature
llitics dlvindled to groups of villages' torvns to sor{id ham-
Ixcorning less dumerous
It N. The population fell away,
nnd more gr;ss. lllireracy and suPerslition floudshed in a
worlrt made up of rvarring Ldbes, 1on€ly settlemen$, and
lrrrnclcs di'pl,,ed penons Monarchr 'ould nor \1'rire:
rrcntly all laym.n rvere r.rnable ro read AlrFr long being
'5.
 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 eight-
eenth 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$onifying all these vices, glory
in a vision of past ignorance Fiumphing both in Rome and
in Rrit.in-
Lol Rome hers€]| proud mistres, no$, 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 civiliza-
lfor. 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<ty- --
 INTRODUCTION
I-rom the problem of the city sufiering from vehiculat
thrombosis, and the problem of irrepressible human stu-
pidity, let us turn to a third, much older and more formi
dable, r'hich has been handled by one of the gr€atest sad-
risrs ol all. Thir is rhe problem ol provideni e: r he que.r ion
hol!'Ihi\ $orld i',on''ri.red u g""e'iid. Everpvhere
we look, every day we live, we sec and experience evil.
PaiI ancl sullerirrg seem to be built iDto the very structur:e
of the universe. Look through the microscope al the tiniest
of living things: they are as savage and cunning as sharks,
or leopards, or Inen. Gaze backward at the physical history
of this planet, and see what appea$ 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. Un-
able 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 rvorld-
order are thinkable, this which we inhabir ;t, t{ith all its
apparent imperfecLions, the best possible $'orld. An omnip-
otent creator could have brought many olh€r kinds of
unive$e inLo existence; but they wo[ld logically l]ave suf-
fered 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 un-
ueually violent and apparently inexplicable disasrer oc-
culred. 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 sufier-
lngs of the victims, bur to point out the ludicrous inade-
quacy 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 misera-
bly 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 liber-
D(lrcd when rhe German concentration-camps
{ld(I, And yea Candide continued, almost until the very
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 Portu-
gal. Exhausted and famishcd, he walks into Lisbon, alriv-
ing just in time for the earfiquake. He survives; but,
beca se he is overhead discussing the philosophical in-
cvitability oI the disastcr, he is arrested by rhe Floly In-
quisition, 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 far-
wandering and much-experienced hcro Odysseus rvere mild
and humdrum.
The story of Cand;.1e has no pa.tern {xcept rhe ele-
menrary 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 $'ere discovered conraininghalfa dozen frcsh chapters
on thc adventures of Candide in Africa or in China, to
accepL them as genuine. Probability is disregarded. Logic rrron Voliair.\ candide. Lngaring by Jcxn Drnbrun.
and system never appear. Chance, idiotic chance borh Ihotograph by Ciraudon, Ptis
kindly and cruel, is iupreme. Tru€, there is a single domi-
nating fteme-the philosophical theory of opdmism ancl
.10.
 INTRADUCTION
I l)irsic plor-Candide loves CunCgonde and ar Iasr marries
hcr. lJut beyond these the story is designcd to be illogicat,
rrrlsystematic, fantastic, and (in the cxistentiaiist sense)
ll)srrrd. A romantic tale rvhich is not satiric may contain
rviltl and unexpected adlenrlrres; bur they will follow a
lxlltern rvhich, given the prcmises, could be called reason-
rl)k. Allan Quarermain in K;ng Solomon's ,iUinsr and
l{oberr Jordm in For Who,n the Bell Tollj move through
w)rlds of €xtreme fantasy and unguessable peril, bur their
l(lventures link into a chain, and the c]rain lorms a design.
lD (;ar?diila 6erc is no design. The implicit purpose of the
nrribor is to deny drat design in lile exists. Aa every moment
lhc regular course of existence is inrerrupted or distorted,
r(, lllat nothing, wherher good or bad, h:rppeirs for any
(rornprehensible reason. In tt\'o of th€ biggest scenes of the
Itorrk, Candide visits rhe unreal land of Eldorado an.l ihe
rlrnost equally unreal ciry of Venice during the Cafnival.
ltr l,)ldomdo he finds rhar our:diamonds ar:e common grav€I.
Itt Venice six chance,met tolrrists prcve ro be derhroned
hirrgs-one Russian czar, one Brirish pretender, one Cor-
lirxn, one Sullan, and, of course, t$,o rival Po]es. Whcn
lirrrr displaced pdnces appear after dinrer, no one pays
ry,rttention to them. In the.$'orld of sati c fiction, almost
rulrything may happen at any mom€nri Satire somcrimes
lrrrks at realiLy as a tale told by an itliot,Titt of sound and /
lrry, signitying norhing. deser\inS norhing t,ur a bj er
lrrrr'{h. )
'l'16 improbable ancl the unexpecteal constantty intrude.
'l'hc philosopher Pangloss is publicly hanged by the In-
rllrisilion; but he tums up again rwenty two chapre$ 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, in-
voluntarily, 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. Touch-
ing xt Portsmouth, Candide sees a blindfotded man kneel-
ing 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 ct I 7
rnd rhe c\(n(ial mark of Ihe 8Fnu. we rall :.rtire.
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 phenom-
cnon 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 inter-
preted, 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 $'ritten. He then makes the ork, or
rhc form, look ridiculors, by infusing it with incongruous
Itlcas, or exaggerating its acsthetic dcvices; or he makes
tlrc idea, look looli.h br purring rhem inro an inappro-
lniate form; or both- Such is Pope, making Settle's ghost
glorify the Dark Age.
'l'he third main group of satires coDtains neither mono'
.13.
 INTRODVQTION
logues, in which the satirist often appears personally, nor
parodies, in rhich his face l!'eafi a mffk, but .na.gativer,..
in rvhich he genenlly does not appear at all. Some of Lhem
are stodes, such as Candide. Ot]..els are dramatic fictions:
staged satires, such as ??oilur and Ctdrridd. Narradve,
eitheras a story or as a drama, seems to be the mosl dimcult
type of satire easiest for the aufior to get wrong, hardest
for the reader to undentand and to judge. When it is suc-
cessful-as it is in Candid.e or Aristophanes' itrogr-it is
Iikely to be a masterpiece; but even the best rvriters are
apt to waver in their conception of its mefiods, ils scope,
or its purpose, r'hile less experienced authors often mis-
conceive it entirely, and ruin rvhat rnay odginally ha1.e
been a viable satiric idea.
This classificatiol can, ia musr be admitted, be criticized
on the ground that it is not a true trichotomy. Alrhough
monologues are generalll difierent from narratives, so that
the t$'o types form t$'o equivalent cla$ses, it is clearly pos-
sible 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.
Ifthe three forms of satire are diffcrent, and if their
material (as we shall see) is omnigenous, $,hat have they in
common? lvhat quality or qualities pcrmit us to look at
a poem, or a play, or a story, and call ir a satirej to cxamine
another, and declare that il has some satiricai episodes, but
is not !\,hotly or mainly a sarire; and !o distinguish, be-
.14.
INTRODUQTlON
outwardly similar'$orks lvdtten by two not dis-
llar authors or €ven, somedmes, by ahe same author-
gcrting thar one is, and the olher is not, satite? It is not
€asy to say. When a satirist wriEs a Parody t'hich
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
rnas publish€d and so far miss€d the satiric imPlications of
thc narrative as to declare that he didn't believe a word
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$e to
dox sentiments and the accepted oratorical manner
that some good cdtics took it seriously in anriquity and
.
lome moder n \crrolnrr 5rill beliete il wa< rinrerely rvritten
ll$ou8h Plaro h;m(clt said ir r.a' comparable I '
ro a dirry.
- <o"ln;r- '
lol.s.--
llowever. there are a number of reliable tests. If some,
it is likely to be a satire.
'or most, of them apply to a book,
First. a peneric deinition enen br the aurhor. When
uvenal looks ar corrupt Rome and cries
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 field-
d 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 twenty-
four) is a monologue spoken by a beggar poet who is leav-
ing 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 him-
self as a saiirist of the hard bitter Juvenalian school.
Similarly, by quoting the acrual words of a distin-
guished 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 sub-
lgcts 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 para-
doxes: 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 mis-
take, and, although sometimes used in other types of litera-
tufe, 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 satiri-
cal; but if they are omnipresent, his work is almost cer-
tainly 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
or loolish or wicked Person or grouP, as viviAlJ 3:P!ssible.
a
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
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 remorse-
less 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
Even if the contempt $'hich the saririst Ieels may gro!v into rvlrkrh could lead to nothing more than folly and ev€ntual
Iurious hatred, he $ill still express his hahed in terms rli\i lU'iunr,nr, \ol "uF ,rould lIor Ird!e srirren 1{3rirc
suitable, not to murdcrous hosdlity, but to scorn. Hale lrlx)ut it. For srLbjects which l'ere terrible ithout stirring
alone may be expressed irr other kinds of iiteraturej and r!,rrtcmpluous laughtcr, lle adopted a lotally diflerent tone
so may laughtcr, or the smjle of derision. The satirisl aims llDrl mcthod. Six or seven yean attct Cand,ide, he issuecl a
ar,omLininq r!rcm. 5l,dke.pearF,"'rld nor di.mi.\ IaSo 'l\'mlise an Toleration, :nhicl]. opens with a darkly serious
iLiii'-".'Jr. J,.rr rritkrdnc- rua, roo lodrhson,F ro be rlrrription of the trial and execution of Jean Calas on
"
merely derided; the man was a "demidevil," a figure fit rcligious grourds, and ends Gave for a postscript) with a
Ior tragedy alone. Bur Pandarus in TraiLus and Cressida is nolcmn prayer to the Creator oI the universe. No one could
covered $'irh purely satirical contempl: write a successlul satire on Attila, or Genghis Khan, or
I lnla8u 'r{ith his pyramids of skulls. No one corlld satiize
Hence, brokcr, lackc,vr ignom,v ancl shame
Pursue thy lite, and live ale with thr name. lcprosy or cancer. Hermann Goering, Benito Amilcare
Mlrssolini, and even rhat sinisrer paranoiac Josef Vissari
This conLempt Pandarus himself then turns into scomful
rrrovitch Djugashlili, callcd Sralin, had their inellecrive
laughier by singing a lit!]e soDg and addressing those in
the audience l'ho, Iike ltimself, are hard-rvorking ill-re-
fl contemptible aspccts, and thelefore could, by a power-
lirl writer or arrisr, be satiriTed. Bur some villaini€s are
loo awlul {or us to despis€. We can only shudder at them,
Ir ;s because satirc al ays conteins some trace of laughter,
nucl in horror turn ar{ay or try to wile a tragedy. Against
ho\\'ever birter, that it lfas arld still ir so difrcult to produce
rrrch crimes, satire is almost impotent. Against all lesser
an efective satire on Adolf Hitler. Charlie Chaplin r rimcs and against all follies, it is a porverful rveapon.
mocked him {'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,
1, 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,ith-
out contcmpt, makc a satirc. If Lcibniz's lheory of opti-
mism had not been trerely a mperlicial and silly hypothesis
.22.

II 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 sati-
rist came before him.' This predecessor's poems have per-
ished, 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 cen-
tury: 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 writ-
ten 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 char-
acrers 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
langlrage.l Hora,e,alls him the divo\erFr, invenror,l
'eal
explorer ot rarirc. because ir wa. he. Luciliu.. who gavel
direction and purpose to the genus. In Lucilius's poems,l
satire $'as rviluul and various, and could comment orr all
.24.
DIATRIBE
acliviries of human life; but its comment was mainly
Llcal, derisory, dcstructive. Ahhorgh he lvas no! the
i Roman poet whom we know to have inveighed against
powerful contemporaries in verse (Na€vius, that bold
beian, did so and suffered for it), he rvas the first who
llacked thcm ar ,onsiderdblF lengrh. wirh aflisri( elabora
n, and apparently rvith implrnity. Even among the
nger fragmenls that survive, we can find several pieces
mockery which must have made their vicLims clench
fists, and groan, and rithe in pain. From Lucilius
velse satire has ahvavs had a bite in it.3
, Every Roman poet of the Republican era knelv Gre€k,
ind-ruefuliy, enviously, or 1{'orshipfully-admired the
gnce and por,er o{ Greek literature. However original,
,, lndependent, and carefree he might be, he rvas botnd to
h0ve some favoritc Greek aulhor l\'hom (even involun-
tgrily) he would imitate and emulate. No!v, satire is not
utually thought to have existed in Greece. There is no
,6xacr Greek word for "satire"; there is no tmdilion of
tllhical r'riting in Greek nothing, for instance, com-
pnrab)e to l\e long rradirion ot )1Lir poetrv or orarory.,
Yctsarire h r narLlrala' ri\irl: and Ihe Creek\ have alwr)( \
bccn good harers and rhey enjor rornJul laughrer. There I
lore we shall expect to find the satiric impulse coming out I
.pmewhere in Greek literature, and thercafter serving as a
tllmulus to Roman satirists. Abouc this, rvhat do the
l'llomans themselves say?
I Among Iris disiect; membra foetae, we cannot find
Lucilius mentioning any Greek author as his model and
'lnspiration; but his strccessor: Horace names trso who
helped to mould Roman satire.
.
Iirst, very clearlyand unequivocally, he says that satire in
Lucilius "entire.ly dglettds,ort:$"_"p.1^4,q9111gtJ-gf1!ql.$ .
Illsewhere he describes his orvn special type ofsarirc as'talk
.25.
 DIATRIBE
seasoned \{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 fan-
tasy 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. Al-
though 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€ dema-
gogue Cleon competing in vulgar abuse wifi a sadsage-
seller 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
" I bcgan, jn a vrild prrty. wirh r''inF. r.omen, crazy dancing.
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 struc-
of 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 mor-
holosy,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 oP-
I'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 in-
table doom. Bur Aristophanic comedy is wildly unpre-
tllctable 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
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, structure-
lcss.
There is one more featur€, and an important one, rvhich
.27.
 DTATRIBD
Lucilius shares $'irh Old Comedy. A play by Aristophanes
has a few chief characten, many subordinare figures, and
a ]arye singing and dancing chorus. The chorus itsetf is a
coll€ctive character: a group of jurymen dressed as wasps,
ri/ith stings to \'vound lheir enemies, or birds, who have
thcir o n commonrvealrh high up in rhe middle air, or em-
bactled and murinous i{'omen. Throughour most of the
comedy, the members of dre chorus warch rhe action, com,
ment on it, and share in it. Bur at one imporaant point
near fie middle (r'hen rhe playi{dght has established his
domination over the audience) the chorus changes irs
nature. It ceases to pr:etend that it is a swarm of wasps or a
goat of clouds. Ir leavcs the acrion to srand stilt for a a,hije
It turns its back on the nole empty stage. It faces the audi,
ence. And it translorms itself from a set of puppets irto
the playwright himself. In rhis pardcular episode of the
play, r'ith a special name (Par,rrarir, "Iornard march,'),
the chorus turns a&'ay from the com€dy and speaLs direcrly
to the spectators. It uses dre rollicking anapaests and the
bold iolly trochaic rhythms r4rich everyone can leel a.rd
enjoy. It performs on€ of the most dimculr feats in a1l
drama, by crossing the barder beh{,een the acto$ 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 mo-
menr 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
' lo the people, naming names outright and mockiDg knaves
dramas. I $,onder nherher, in rhe same way, Aristophanes
himself may not have appeared in person, behind a mask
and lrithin a disguise, to lead rhe chorus in some of his orm
'28.
DIAARlBE
inventions, and to say to rhe audience the message
h he himself had written. At any rate, just as he and
rlvale, at the end of their Plays, oflen invircd the audi'
lo join them in a party, so, ar a tumlng-foint in each
cly, while all were enjoying themselves and were elat€d
tllll receptive, they addtessed their feUolv'cirizens with
Itive and thoughtlul message 't{hich was meant to
lln in their mind$ 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 imagi-
hlilon and colloquial vigor; the frequent Parodies of
us poetry; the deliberately shocking indecencies; lhe
ilxlble and picturesque use of meter; the fTee and uncon-
V€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'e-
Qucnce, !he hir, uppinB ,lryrlrm' and rhe indeLo) ous
hords:
lilow a jes.r l irt, a gredL hearr to sPcdk Ihe rrurh direi tly
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 "
.29.
 DlATRIBE
When Homce said that Lucilius depended ol1 Aristo-
phanic 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, al-
though he read masterpieces both of Old Comedy and of
New.1o For his own work he named quite a dillerent proro-
type. 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 discus-
sions, 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
gets
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€ inhabit-
lttli o[ smaller and remoter regions, aDd to the dlnasts and
llllclals of petty courh throlrghout the Greek-sPeaking
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
$unpery, preaching and performing miracles and collect-
lng money.13 wlen St, Paul started on the journeys de'
mrlbed in The Acts of the Apostl€s, he was Part of a tradi-
tlon which was atready three hundrcd years old, and more.r'
One of rhe most lamous of thete philosophical mission-
trlca was a remarkable man called Bion. He was born about
tr6 B.C. in rhe remor,e and i.olareJtiiel ""rrlemenr called
Olliil-oi"Frjry"ihenes. far aral on rhc Blri k sea ncar Ihe
ihc of modern Odessa. I{is father had becn a slave, who
Won freedom, and his molher a proslitute. Because of a
fnld committed by his father the entire family (though
Itrn) was sotd into slavcry again. But the boy rvas bought
lty nn intellectual, a teacher of rhetoric, who lefr him, at
 DIATRIBE
his death, a small Iortune and his liberty. He w€nt to
Athens and studied in the best philosophical schools; then
devoted his life to tmveling and Preaching philosophy.
Bur "preaching" is the wrong word; and so is "lecluring."
Bion worked out a style of his own which was designed to
capture and hold the attention of audiences who hated
preaching and would never have gone to a lecture, PeoPle
who were ill educated and uninterested in philosophy and
inapt for systematic thought, yet still capable of under-
standing moml problems and of changing their o$'n lives."
Eis mcstagc \\,as realislic. Despising- both naive religitlr
and idealistic philosophy, illusionless as a Cynic and vo-
iuptuous 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
'through, or delivering a speech which he had already com-
made fun of them, using their verses incongruously or dis-
rorting 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 fol-
lowed by point six, and point six, at an equal distance, by
'wlrat
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 dia-
cllc piocess. Repeatedly he explained that he was not
l|ltlDg out a docline which he had already thought
sa( \imply follow
Polcd ind polished and memorizcd, bur
lng "wherever Lhe d)gumenr led. A tormrl dic, our.e. ac-
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
&phists and, the systematic teachers who succeeded them."
, Bion had another model, scarcely less famous. This was
thc Cynic philosopher Diogenes, the tr€ggar, the "dog."
D logeiEifi -sffi 6Gd'16-lifi E ffi 'c.Gii.
borti'l;iiii;i6iii..1
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, $'as his bold vivid method of teaching
 IB
DIATRIBE
through pithy Lrnconventional remarks and drastic anti-
social acts. One of his central principles was absolute flanh-
ness (rrappnora): he observcd no conventions oI spe€ch,
alrvays spoke his mind, and shrank Irom no crude rvords.
This frankness is charactedstic of the best sqlire. Everyone
k".ii"6;;;-; l; ii;"?l; ;; .-p;t cask, to show tha,
most people thought far too much about unnecessary com-
Iort, and horv he alked through the market-place al high
noon with a lighted lamp, looking for an honest man. A
single memorabie gest re, one meaty r:ematk seasoned with
,"1 black salt, can olten teach more eflectively than a skillfully
I make them plain to undersrand and easy to remember, so ,
articulated discourse on the principles of cthics.
The ethical themes used in Bion's informal discourses
wcre repeated by generations of moralists, Greek, Roman,
and Jervish. Philo, Dio Chrysostom, Musonius, Epictetus,
Seneca never tire of reproaching and dcriding their con-
temporaries for misonderstanding the trlte slandards of
life. one of their favorite topics, for example, is the concept
of bereditary nobilityr they point out that, as a blind man
canno! benefit from the sharp sight of his Par.enls, so a
vicious man or a fool cannot be called noble because his
ancestors rtere distinguished: nobility is nothing buc wis-
dom and virtue. And they frequently atFck the luxurious
extravagance of the Greco-Roman rvorld. How Perve$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
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 be-
fore 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 over-
simplifrcation.
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 b) oien, by horscs and lions,
and thcy coukl paint with fteir 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 $'ealth and luxury in lhe un-
usual form olsatiric lyrics. More famous and far morc influ'
ential was the Cynic Menipl:uj_ (c. t4o c. Ito B.C.), a
Syrian slave lvho won his freedom and eventually became
a citizen of the noble Greek city of Thebes. He was ap-
parently the {irsl non-dramatic rr'riter of satire to make his
work continuously fLrnny, instead of merely inserting gibes
into il herc and th€re. He is called the or.ousoy6troLoq, 'the
j.,FI 1P*i serious thingsl'par excelle_ncel and he surely
modeled much of his work on Aristophancs." He is also
Iamous for inventirg a r€rrLr pattern. for._s-?tirc, prose
",i!+-t!hq! ,o.!. ysl!g-.
a pattern lehich may be
nlllg._l.e-4. _{itll
S€mitic in origin rather than Greek.:3 After him came the
author of a mock epic in Hom€ric hexamete$ 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 his poem Zaar.r, as
6nolhanes had done.
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
rl..ir repurar
lrnclGl'lih
lrc, 'o
judge b\ Itheir
iLaee by rirlc., their
hei" titles, reputarion,
ion, and
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 narm-
vc{ 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
fllhcotor)/n1ost\ di"Siii-,ii:;,
d/ocotocynro.si \di)rl.d or rcrronru\
rne j,i,Ji;iis;.qt.
or :cnF.a. Iti-. F"trpnius rDorn
(both
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{ exist-
lh(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 ro
thl: name of satirc.
.37.
 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 moti-
vated 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 alter-
rvard, in the Alexandrian era, ihe brilliant 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
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 pre-
em inentll c ler er. er en Io I hc foinr ot dcvi'inc unne, esatv
lies to tell thosc $ho love him. Therefore someonc \\,rote
a comic poem about the antithesis of Odyiser6, a man so
stupid that he could not count beyond five (the lingers of
one hand) and was afraid to mak€ love to his rvife in case
she conplained ao her ntother.
Nfrny skills he knew, and alwaF got them wrong.
.38.
DIATRIBE
the model of the bold upstart in the 1liad, The$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 an-
tlity 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 character-
it; certainly it !l'as not considered to be a parody
the strict sense, but rather a protracted pl€asantry.,?
itrl trom
tPIlIl Irom settlng satiric model of Lhe Perfect Fool
setting the saflric
(llkc Simplicissimus and Candidc) it had little direcr influ-
ancc 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
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
.19.
 DlA'1'R1RE
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
,
.[
t,ol"n' 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 "occupa-
r;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<iq xai l<iyouq, "discoulses
and talks.""'The talks gii,en by Bion, although in intention
critical, wcre in this sense philosophical discussion; and
wh€n Horace called his ofin satires rdrmoncr, "talks," bc
meant to sholv that they rvere less haphaz:rr<\ Lllan saturae.
"medlcys," and that, ahhough informal in tone, they still
had a purpose lvhich l{as ihoughdul and a meaning that
'!vas meant to be remembered.
:ft'cse, then, are the origins of the first main type ol
-/ satire. Ir is a monologue, usually in y€rse, but often also
in prose or tu prore rtingled rvith lersc, which is informal
and is apparently improvised. It appears to be pelfectly
spontaneous alrd !o hare no set logical structure, brt to
spring from a momenrary impulse, a casual occu ence, a
passing remark. li is marked by consnnt variety of tdrc
and shifts ol subject-matter, and it is enlivened by wit,
humor, parody, paractox, r\rord play, and other d€corations-
It is of coune non-fictional, non-narrative. It deals Nith a
theme o{ lieneral interest, but it illustmres its subiect by
personal references, topical allusions. and character'
.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 im-
ion-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 philo-
cal 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€."'
'Vc!6e 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
.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 anti-
polemics. 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 mono-
of Lucian are pictures of contemporary life $,hich-
t for their rather desiccated prose style and their reluc-
to 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,
cl anyone wtro wanls to understand impeial Rome of
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 mono-
loguc 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 $e pagan
ampcrol. They had mocked Julian Ior wearing the simple
.43
 DTATRIBE
immecliately preceding the Reformation. But although the
priests and the friars lvere undoubtedly eamest in their
struggle ro tvarn mdntinJ aeain.r ir" or'n ronuprion it
war rheir very earnc\rnes\ rhar pre\enred rhem trom mdk-
ing rheir sermons inro 'atjres. \4osL of Iho.e,ir.d b) Dr.
Owst-are unremitlingly serious and doggedly systematic.
-We
can, horvever, trace certain devices rvhich often recur
in them and which can be called satiical. One is the illus-
trative anecdote, an odd or amuting tale (be il fiction or
Iact, it iiiiiCly mattert used to point a moral. Another
is the fable. Another is the vivid character sketch tinged
-ith am'.r#irrerrt and contempt. Anal, just norv and then,
we see a shorl passage of true satire in which, for a momenti
the author actually ventures to play lvid a serious idea:
as rvhen St. Bemard produces a series oI sharP_edged criti-
cisms made pointed by puns, about clerical dignitaries who
care more for roast pasty than for Chrisl's Passion and
study more in salmon than in Solomon; ol hen the Do-
minican John Bromyad, in sar.age and paradoxical ironn
calls money a divinity more potent than God, because it can
make rhe lame rvalk, set captives free, cause tLe deaf judge
to hear and the dumb advocate to speak 33
The moral themes and examples used by medietal
.preache$ rvere (as Dr. Olv'st shorvs) often taken over by
poets outsidc the church. Among the social and ecclesiasti-
cal 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 some-
times find satirical monolog es embedded in the solider l)cviL pa,lirg monk'. i,die'. br,hups. 1rin,r.. Jrrd l{i.,e*.,
material of larger '!vorks, like frail fossils in carboniferous nrto the boiling caldroD ot hell.
Cothic scnlplure, rhe Catl,edral of lk{,rges
stone. Such is ahat delighttul satire on marriage seen from Photognph bl Giraudo., Pais
.46.
 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 gar-
in a vast and intricate Gothic cathedral, rve can find
satiric diatribes crouching among rhe flying but-
itcsses 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. Eventu-
illy latrcr Ca<aubon pulrli\hpd hiq illurnin ing F"sdy on
lllire in 1605) the full power and meaning of the genus
|[llre l{rs under.roo.l. Mdn) good ,ariri,rs no$ nppeJrcd.
lnd a ferv geniuses. In Italian there \\,ere Vinciguerra and 1
Dcrni and Ariosto; in French, \rxuquelin de la Fresnaye
thd Rdgnier; in English, Skelron and Wyaft an.l Donne I

Ind FIall and Marsron. All rhese mcn prFtelred rhe mono-
logtre form \^hi.h .,',o emFrged rrirmphanrty in rhe
Ittclaces of Rabelais and in some of his long speech€s. In
thh age, too, the very type of the sadrical obs€I1er appeared
ln drama and in r€al life-the lonety individuat, standing
It one side of that stage rvhich is the world, observing the
lCtors thoqgh taLing none of rhem quite seriousty, and
tommenting $'ith r,ry hrmor on the fantasric drama o[
llle, Such is Jaqrres in Sha.Sespear€'s ,rr Iq u Likc It, who,
llkc a true (tbough oprimistic) saririsr, says
They that are most galled with my folly,
They most must laugh.ar
lu the baroque age, thes€ men rvere follol\,ed by grcater
![lirists who used, although they did nor atways preler, the
.4.7.
 DIATRIBE
monologue form: Boileau, Oldham, Young, Pope. The
(ourt predclreL ro rhe-Holy Roman EmPeror Jrom r67?
to ,7ov. Abrdham a sancla Clarr' alrhough filled wilh
deep religious emodon and insPired by unmistakably sin'
cer; moral feeling, still wrote sermons which are often
indistinguishable from sadric diatribes in the sPiit of
Bion, so lull are they of witticisms, parodies, proverbs,
anecdotes, puns, and other divenions, and so unPredictable
is their rapid explosive tempo He specialized in humorous
atracks on rhe follies and frailties of mankind. His most
famous preclecesso$ (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).
Sti1l mustI hear? shali hoane Fitlgerald ba&l
His creaking couplets in a tavem hall,
And I not singl
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
suited for ir, since almost all h€ wrote sound€d like an
enormous monologlre. After Hltgo th€re is a gap in the
.48'
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 $'holly successful; but ithas some {ine passagrs.
ere is his descriptior of the English Jiterary scene in the
rg2oh.
Now Spring, srreet laxative ot Georgian strarns,
Qui.kens the ink in literary ieins,
The shtely Hores ol l:rqldnd opp rheir door5
To piping Nancy-boys and crashing Bores,
Where tor weck'ends the scaveng€rs of letters
Convene to chew the lat about their betters
Over the soup, Shakespeare is put in place,
Wn.d,\o'rh i, m"nclFLl si\ rl,r c.lc an I tlJi,F,
And Milton's glory drat once shone so clear
Now with the gravy sccms to disappear,
Here Sh€lley w;th tlie oraDge peel is torn
And Byrork gorcd by a tanc cuckold s horn.
Antl his evocation of the lanky and lugubdous form of
Lytton Strachey, i{hose repuraiion rvas established ar the
ol,ching of the decad€ with Lis biographt of the good
Quccn Victoria.
While here unga;nly monarchy, annexed
l)y more nsainly Somebod,r, is vexed
And turning in h€r gmvc exclaims, "What nexd
In life did tat aDd asthma scani my brealh,
'l'hcn spare mc from thc Tapc-ri,orm, Lord, in death."a
'lwo ycar" l,r.'. illg_lJ._\y)ldl'i. Le\\js, !.hor am-
Itltlorrs sarir ic nor e . h.,Ll made le* impa, r and er rned him
hu lame than he hopc.l, published his onty ve$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
'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 old-
fashioned 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$..-follq-rl'-eq.lD \%g by Trolic of Qapdgorn. ID
form these are autobiographical novels: both follow a
certain time-sequence and contain certain characters who
reappear and may be said to develop.'a Bur MiUer is, or
was, an incessant talker and letter-rvriter. The mosL porrer-
ful and durable parts of these books are the meditations
and manifestoes in which, lvith hideous violence and shock-
ing foulness of language, he denounces th€ whole rvorld
of his dme and most of its component parts. His passion {or
obsenitl ir.lile thar ol {ri,toph:nes. and Rabelai,i an,l
;nJeed mu ny ot the e\ploir\ ol qhi.h he boa,rs ri,emhl,
those of Panurge. The difierence is that in spite of its
absurdiries and hypocrisies they love mankind. N{iller, likc
Srilr brlievs rhar h,rmdniry ;, d filrhy (rime.
In the modern United Stares the satidc monologue
struck nely roots, and had a vigorous, although not ah'ays
gmceful, gro th. Americans have ahvays enjoyed lisrening
to the humorous disillusioned obser'\,er ruho, from the side-
lines, n'atches the parade of the rich aDd the mighry and
with a few biting words converLs them into fiieves and
clowns. Fipley-Pgqe1pg4ge not only amused the public lor
t$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 night-
4nd theatres, and-greatly to Lheir own surprise-
listened 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 im-
nnen, 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. dis-
ng the publication of the Yalta pape$, Mor Sahl
.51.
 DIATRIRE
suggested that they "should be put out in a loose leal
binder so you can add new betrayals asthey come along."
-Korea, "They were
Of thc American tumcoats in he said
steadfast: they refused to giv€ anything except their name,
their rank, and the exact position of iheir uni!." When
F.isenhowcr r,as first elected. Sahl commented tha! the
'\ country needed a man on a white horse: "We got the hone,
but there's nobody on him." And when Kennedy l,ras
nominated, he said the committee sent a wire to Kennedyt
mulcimillionaire father saying, "You haven't losl a son,
you've gained a country."
2, VARIATIO NS OF THE SATIRIC-{L
MONOLOCUE
This is not a history of satire. Although that would be
an attractive enlerprise, it rvould require three large vol
umes at least. This is 3tf eiu i* m9l[Flogy. we must
,:/
r now look, therefore, at some important vadalions on the
''' first main type of satire, th€ monologue.
Far back among the earliesl beginnings of verse satire,
find one importanr subspecies. This is the monologue
rye
which is delivered, not by the satirisa in his own person,
but, by the satirist's victim. The Poet males a mtn whom
he despises and hates stand up and speak his whole soul,
boast of his evil talents, display his shameful laults, glory
in his outmgeous vices. Ultimately this is a trick of the
ahealle. It appears in the opening speech of Shakespearet
Richard III I
I, that am rud€ly stampcd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambting nynph;
L rhJr .'m , ullr,le,l oI L\ic Li. t,opollion.
Cheated of teature by disscmbling nature,
D.lurmed. unrrni"hed. sFnr b.,ori ml rni
Into this breathing workl scarce halt made up,
.52.
DIATRIBE
And that so lamcly and unfashionabl€
'th Jog. L.,l .' me. a. I \ 'lr L) rlr"m. . . .
I am determined to prove a villain.
h( Creel(s and Romans kne$ 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 per-
Vcr[ 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 omnip-
olcnl domiDatjon, it is better described as a mighiy mono-
.5;t.
 DlATRlBE
logue satire, spoken not by the satirist but by his victim-
his 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 ab-
horrence! 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
ltalian Person ol Qualil)). In this poem, raltles along
"'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 country-
where 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
o-r't'l
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, some-
soberlyjjLlleltr.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 exaggera-
or a falseh66d; knowing it to be exaggerated or false,
Ennouncing it as s€rious tmth. Listening to it, inrelli-
t 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, some-
so 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. Some-
even 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 mock-
y, 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'

DlATRIBE
the orld, he went about asking peoPle queslions'
man in
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 butsearch-
ing cross examination it usually transpired that they did
not. Although they $'ere exPerb and he Posed as an igno-
ramus, his quesrioning proved ihat they knew nothing and
did not even know they knels nothing.
This "irony" of socrates Produced divergent elfects on
the Athenians. Some admired it, and became his pupils
Others detested it, and condemned him to death
ln his time the word irony wiLh its cognales was un-
complimentary, In Aristophanes (l'ho is the first l'e know
to have used it in his satire against Socrates, The CLauds)
and later in Demoslhenes it is a harsh word, connoting
sly cleverness. The type of irony is the fox; the user of
iroly is something very like a hyPocrite Socrates himself
is never: recorded as saying that "irony" defired his method
of philosophizing; in the l\,orks of his pupil Plato the '$'ord
is used (whe.her of Socrates or oI others) as a joke or a
reproach. Il $as Plato's Ptrpil Aristolle $ho used irony
in a good sense, to describe the gentle assumption of werk'
ness and ignomnce, coupled ith a politc desire to be en
lightened, rvhich was the characteristic dialeclic technique
of Socrates; and he passed on the concePt of Socratic iront
through the Romans to us. Yet it was mote than a tech_
nique o{ philosophical inv€stigation: i!. y"s 419 .1-y:1Pj"
of satire. Again and again in Plato's polemical dialogues
wa3E€6rites using irony to satirize peoPle and belieh
thaL he distlusts. Sometimes it is so gentle that it may have
puzzled them, but could scatcely wound them. Starting his
interogarion of the brilliafltly versatile intellectual
.56.
DIATRIBE
Oorgias, he does not raise an absLruse metaPhysical prob_
, but says to a pupil, "Ask him who he is." Sometimes
! aPpea$ so sincere thac the unwarl reader may believe
i 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
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
f,lmon In general usage the $'ord means ironl
"urcusm.
whose true underlying meaning is both so obvious that it
Ctnnot be misunderslood and so wounding that it cannot
bc dismissed with a smile. Many oI Hamlefs bitterest re-
n0tk9 are o{ this kind. "Vouchsafe me a rvord rvith you,"
mys his false friend Guildenstern, and he rePlies, "sir, a
whol€ history." Attempting politeness, the king asks, "How
Itttcs ourcousin Hamlet?" and Hamlet answers, "Excellent,
l' faich: of the chameleon's dish: I €at the air."50
"Dramaric irony" is a particular type oI theatrical effect
tthich has no inberenl connection with satire and is not
lclcvant here.rl
Centle irony and wounding sarcasric irony can be used
nt yg4pglt_jl e!.ttpel of satire. They ar€, howev€r, rost
lllcctive in monologue. where a 'k;lllul rariri\t .an. no$
Hud then. allor^ rl,e real Inrrh Io fla)h rhrough rhcmildl)
)" r"i'
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
 DIATRIEE DIATRlBE
Parents or Country,and for MalLing Them Beneficial to the
and raise the general standard of living. Even in out-
P&rlic. It did not purport to be by Suift himself, bur by an
this idea is horriblej the supporting arguments are
anonymous Irish patriot, rvhore motive in rvriting it was
ting; but Swift, who rvas long and deePly lacerated
to benefit the kingdom of Ireland by solving one of i$
the restless ulcer of indignation, excels himself when
chief problems. The problem was that, under English go€s inlo the practical details.
domination, the fopulation of Ireland lras starving to
Coohi.ng and. seming."A child will make l\ro dishes li.e.
d€ath. One radical solution, Irish independence, could not
6eparate courses, {or instance chops and a roasL] at an
then be coneidered. Other measures of comptete social,
tcrtainment for fri€ndsi andwhen the familydines alone,
financial, and moral reform I'ere obvious)y righr, and there,
fore or hind quarter Nill make a reasonable dish, and,
fore (Srvifi dought) \vould never be iniriated. So, behind
\'\'ith a little pepper or salt, will be very good
the ironic mask of a philanthropist, he proposed a solurion
ed on the fourth day, especially in rvinter."
which was couched in terms of blandly persuasive logic,
Other uses. "Those rvho are more thrifry (as I must
but was so atrocious rhat no one could possibly rake ir as fess the times require) may flay the carcase; the skin
which, artifrcially dressed, wiU make admirable gloves
This solution b thal, since too many Irish babies are
Iadies, and summer boob for fine gentlemen."
being bol]-l, they should be treared, nor as human beings,
but as animals. They should be slaughtered and enten. And the mosr difficult problem of all, the melhod of
16r. "As to our city of Dublin, shambles may be
The besr age at which to eat them (flom th€ point of vie.lv
ted for this purpose in the most convenient parts
of rhe consumers) would be one year, when, having been
It, and burchers, we may be assured, r{'ill not be rvancing;
nursed by their molhers, they rvould be healtbiest, and
though I rather recommend buying the children alive
their flesh tenderest. There is, Swifr remarks, a supple- dressing th€m [i.e. cooking th€m] hot from the knife,
menhry suggesdon, to let the children grorv to the age of
we do roasting pigs."
trreh'e or thirteen and then serve rhem in place of venison,
' ln a dozen pages, SwifL has writkn a perfect satir€. After
which is becoming unhappily scarce; but ro this proposal over the variolrs advanlages of this tenible scheme,
he objects, on rhe ground that the mear rould, at least
briefly considers and contempluously dismisses other
in the males, be lean and tough. "And besides, ir is nol lutions for the Iish problem: l\'hal we should call sensi-
improbable that some scrupulous people mighr be apt 1()
censure such a practice (alfiough indeed very unjustly)
! reforms, such as tardng absenlee Properly'orvners, .cul
g off expinsive imports, and "teaching landlods to have
as a little bordering upon cruelty; rvhich, I confess, has
ahvays been 1\'ith me the strongest objection against any
It least one degree of mercy to{ard their tenalts " "Let
ho man," he says ith bitterness flashing out, '1alk to me
project, ho$' well soever intended." cravely, wilh a sr,eerly loe these and the like expedien$, till he has at least some
reasonabie manner and an appearance of earnes! concern
for a miscrable dorcn-trodden population, Sri'ifr enumerates 'Sllmpse of hope that there !!ill ever be some hearty and
'llncere attempt to put them in practice." The irony, tbe
the advanta$s of his modest proposal. Ic rvill diminish ttre 'lcorn, and the despair of the salirit! can go no furth€r.
number of papists, increase the annual income oI the couD-
llc has atrached the demoralized Irish poor, the dishonest
.58. .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, $'hich uotrld have extin-
guished the suficring narion forever in lhree generations.
which i'as more extrcme? II Svrift. instead of recommend-
ing the sale, slaughter, cooking, and eating of babies, had
witten a Modest Proposal suggesting that lhe Irish should
liberate rhemselves from servitude by refusing to have
children altogether, lvould that pamphlet not hav€ seemed
to be a perfect satiie on a hopeless siluation?
.60.
DlATRIBE
We said that irony rvas staring the reverse of LruLh as
though it were clear truth. In Colonel Despard's suggestion,
what had been irony in S$'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' ^\'.1 -.
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 prob-
lems 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 con-
tain rath€r too many p€rsonal touches and transie)t lam-
poons 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.
Jerome s bitter humorless nature and his
inrenre 'erious_
ness kept him from being a true satiris!: yet his letters often
approach the vivacity and never lack the vigor of satire.""
The famous letters in which "Junius" aftacked George III
and his govemment ale surely among the masterpieces of
'61 .
 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 . \errnorhcr \nrilnr ot rtre \imp'e monologue i, rhed,!,
d"^"'-- arlrngedrliilogue. During
'he
gowrh pcriod ot rhe Com-
munist paty in the West, this was one of its lavorite tech-
niques. 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 tech-
dque 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 mem-
ber 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 spon-
taneous 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 dame-
F. You mean-
P. I don't.
F. You do
.P. See, now I keep the secret, and not youl
The bribins sutesman-
" F Hold. roo high You 80'
The bribed el€ctor-
F. 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 wit-
fless 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
.64.
DIATRIBE
the technique once again r€minds us of Plato, who some'
times makes a lnan lvho lras Present at an imporrant dis-
cussion repeat it in comPlerc detail to someone ho
missed it.
rn another variation, the o'
'1t4:l!.blHpllj!-q-l$99led inlo the
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 ad-
dressed by himself to others
sariric monoloaues,over almo.r^9!erlY rl'eme *hhh hu'l P#\'*
.'.lJ;.'i'i". ;; P;;uot idp'or.'r. so 't''o' ir Nould be 6 r0 'L"t
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;ffi;;;. ;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-
.65.
 DIATRIAE
strument, the satirist's own voice is nearly always heard PARODY
through it.
But sometimes the satirist hides. He speaks, but in a I,IARODY ND ]\{IIf ICRY
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 ARop). is-one ,of- the, .mrst.d,elightlul -forms of
secald: Ansuer aloaL accord;ng to his |o|ry, btt he be wise sarire, one of Lhe rnost natural, p9rh.a!s tlre most
i.n his oun conceit. He is the satirist lvho works through ;bsi elte.ltrv,e.,lt
efiective. Ir sl
sati-sfying, 1ld.olren i6e
'i'rig, ..iirii-6iGii ihe_.most springs
parody. te,1 heart
irom rhee very hean ot of our sen.. ol
o'rL sense .omedv, t't;*-i'
oI comedy, which
huppy-p9rc!,ijdon ;f fitoiiEiniq:'A tirtl€ boy and a little
'f'.
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'
O,il :? ltous audrority oI their mother and father. A great clown
tuch as Grock laboriously shifring tbe piano to\\'ard the
k:;l pirno-stool, setting the height of lhe sell wilh microscopic
precision, rclling up his sleeves, arching his eyebrorm, gaz-
lng 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 con-
cert platform. (I once sarv VJaclintir de Pachmann stop bc-
lore attacking a group of Chopin picces, and refuse to con-
thrr€ 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
eH \t3 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'
RY. "69'- L "'

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 ridicu-
lous, 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.'
f 3" ;:,
{ E
cr,tt t,t"* l.
t ld lhe difierence between a portrait skel:ll.-3nd 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 -and
scorn,"
lnd somelrmes
l!iF.: \
It is tempting to divide parodies into tleo main q'pes: Lr6",r,' .1
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. Hous-
m^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 nine-
ttcnth 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,
 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
that-
Chorus. What? ForI know not yet what you witl say.6
Alcmaeo Nor w|ll 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.
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
"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
vinist deity worshipped by many of Blrns's Scottish con-
temporaries. (When I rvas a young Scoatish churchgoer,
brought up in doctrines not too far rcmoved fiom Cal-
I vinism, 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 does dwelll
l/ha, as it pleases best Thlsel,
Sends ane to heaven and ten 10 l€ll,
A' Ior Thy glory;
- And no tor ony guid or ill
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
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. In-
deed, 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?
PARODf
,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 dis-
But the question about angels dancing on a needlct
t is not Immed seriously. It is therefore a satirical
of medieval . A momenCs reflection will
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 exag-
tion, but a typical and authentic instance of the super-
mtiocinarion 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 gen-
ne 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 com-
larors. 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'
 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, for-
merly 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.
In bed I
read Ludwig Donnervelter's All b nlerything-
It 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.
The enrire article was a very close imitation of Mrs. Roose-
velts 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.
PARODf
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 admira-
y 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 com-
mittee, I would like to ofier my sirceresr congratuladons
.75.
 PARODY P ARO DY
(a) thc Secrctrr Y Ceneral ack.l by Pmenobilit Dominus Alllelius Goldacker' A
lbr the A-i'rJnr Se,r'rar\ CenerJl worshipper sings to him this litany:
i'r rh" *',.'',' ot rhe ,bnnrirr" kc tchaoi an ' Silver have mercy on us
on lsee abou, and choase ane)
Tirere is a proverb in my country (quote in orilinat Gold have mercy on us
tanguage). Silver hear us
i" ri,rn now ro rl..uuie,
r'marrer
"i our dcb'rF
lsLh to cold hear us
state b efiy the views ol my gov€rnment on rhose viral issues Silv€r, Father of Turmoil, have Pity on us
which are involved. It is not neccssarv to rePeat in this con- Gold, Conroler of the World, have Pity on us.r
n€clion 1'hat was said Blending political with religious satire, the British radi'
(a) last year cal HeDry Labouchere Produced a Parody of the nalional
(b) n year aeo anth€m, which kept $e meter, the rhyme scheme, and the
(c) two, three, tour, &c. Years ago
by
refrain of lhe original unaltered, but changed the sub.iect"
(a) ml minist€r ot loreign atrairs matter: to a r.ealistic statement of fact about the prolifrc
(b) ny Prine minister and profligate family of Queen Victoria
(c) the head or mY delegarion Gramlchildren not a few,
Gl) my colleagu€ with gr€at-grandchildr€n too,
(e) myseu She ble't ha' been
in this very we've been thei. sureties,
Paid them gratuiti€s,
(b) A$cmbly hal1 Pensions, annuities.
G) corridor God Save the Queen.'g
(d) bar
(€) washroon, &c. On hearing of this, Her Majesry was nor rmnsed- Yet the
I need not do so for two reasons Th€ lirst is that I am sure facts were unimpeachable, and the final sentiment unobjec_
the words rpokelr then arc still as Perlinent today as tliev tionable. The good Queen lvould surely have been even
were then. The second reason is fiat nothing thal has oc less amused if she had foreseen that Max Beerbohm would
curred in the inte rl makes it Possible for me to hope that nol or y chedsh wilh mock reverence a coPy of her diary'
more attention will be Paid to our statemenis in the future
Leaues trom the lournal of o t Life in the HighLands, b\rt
dran they have receive.l in the Past ?
embellish it with comments lvhose style equals th€ Plati-
NIany of tbe frnest Political and religiorts satires are tudinous viscidity of the original, actually written in a close
. .mareriat parodies. Th€y Presewe the form of rhe original imitation of her own imPerial and royal handwriting lo
I allffi;]ii;i6ff;, and merely distort $e conrent a lirtle- For rhere ir a poinr ar rvhi, h.;n order ro 'ariri,'e.Frtrin
) usually making it lralker and more realistic. Burns sct authors or artists or: personalities, it almost becomes super-
i down in his PraJer rlrc secret thoughts of a stem sell fluou' to parody rl,em. '1 he unforlunare )oung cou,tier
righteous Calvinisl. So Abraham a Sancta Clara says tbat uho v€ntured to imitate Queen victoria, in (if th€ ex_
rhe $'orld is a thcatre, in which the part of Mammon is pression is permissibte) the flesh, may not have been car:i-
'76 '
 PAROD!
caturing her at ail. Certainly Max Beerbohm did nolhing
more than rvrit€ appropiiately Victodan comments in Vic-
toda's orvn published diary; and yet borh mimicrie$ had
the effect of satire. Perhaps \re naturally eljoy th€ in
congruiry \{hich ensrcs when anyone compararively unim-
Portant 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 self-
r{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 matrer? $,hats the matter?
lfhat is t rhat ails )or s Ilrrrl cilt?
That cvcrmore his icctir thev chatter,
Chatter, chatter, chatter still;1r
In thlt year also Wordsrvorth de$cribed a case of cdena.
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
anyonc \{,ho i' ouffiticnr'y inrere'terl to puriue rhe
ect inro rhe more rar"ned air ot
'elt-prrody,
I vecom-
an anthology o{ such delicate monslers dra$'n front
works of many famous English bards. It was edi.ed by
D, Wyndham Lervis and Charles Lee, and published in
, \ts title, Tltc Stufed..,oarl, comes frorn a sonnet by
worth, little knorvn but full of dcep emotion. Miss
Jewsbury, it seems, had been ill lor a long [ime, and
only constant companion had becn (in Wordsworth's
0e) "the inanimate object on r,hich this Sonner turns."
as the Poct Laur:eate obse ed, too rarely prop th€
id head.
Yet, helped by G€nius-untired Comtorter,
The prcs€ncc cvcn of a stufied Owl for her
Can rl-"ar rhe rimF: .Fn,ling h"' r"n, ) our
To ivied castles aDd to moonlighr skies,
Though hp..,n n-irher \ri' a plu{e. nor shourl
Nor \ril, \i,1, t'.,1,\s 6lm. his \l],ing ()e".s . erl.J.' ",
i.
h dilFcult ro aroid 'he rhoughr rhrr Word.lvorh. at p:) '1,
Ough he felr a deep and rrue s)mpdrhy IoL poor si' kly ,.
Itt.fcwsbun. had more in .ommon. by rhJr rime. wirh
![uf[€d owl. ln all English poetry there is no sell
isr to equdl \Vil';Jm Wo'd(\orrlr, alrhough FTra
Sl runs tii- ".ry .tose. His peculiar achie,r.-.nirias
nllrlbly summed up in a parodic sonnet byJ. K. Stephen:
. 'fwo voices are there: one is of the deep!
Itlearns the storm cloud's thunderous melody,
Now ro.'.. noq murmuF si h rh",l,.,nginF "e .
Now birdlike pipes, now closes sort in sleep:
And one is of an old half-$'itted sheep
Which bleats articuiate monotony,
And indicates that t o an.l oDe are thrce,
'79.
 t,4.l.o6r P,,(RIDl
That grass is green, lakes damp, and mountaiDs stcep: lon o[ the proud Chccse scooper was he,
{nJ, \\o) 1.\"r1, b"rh ar, rhin,; Jr,.,,Jin im* named SaucePan-iDvader''"
Forrh from thc heart of thy mglodious rhymes g champions do deeds of prolv€ss and deal mighty
The form an.t pressure of high thoughb witl burst:
At other times good Lordl I'd rathcr be nds and slay their opponents rvith the same high ilan
Quite unacquainted with the A.B.C. lhe princes who fought on the ringing plains of windy
Than write such hopeless rubbjsh as thy worst 1. . They address one another: in haughry chivalrous
hes, like the Achaeans and the Trojans; and the poet
?. ?ARODY OI FORNI AND ates their exploits with the same grave dedicated energy
IARODY O! CONTINT Flomer in the lliad. In fact, the main differenc€ beLween
ft is sometimes possible to classify satiric par:odies as wc Battle ol Frogs and, Mice and t]I.e lliad is a matter of
have done, distinguishing those which are chiefly material The heroes oI lhe llidri are mighty men. The heroes
parodies (like the religious and polirical sarires) from thosc The Battle e \etfii'i,
whose one-day war is broken up
which (like Housman's skit on creek tmg€dy) are mainly !n incu$ion ot miniature monslers, Srandly and gro-
concerned $'ith form. Yel form and matter are so .loselv uely described:
con;aiied in tiiliaiure that it is often dimcult ancl unlvi$:
to dissociate them. B,rrrr-r on 1'Roos AND tr'IIcx
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
ii\ -
called The Battle-of-Ftags-and Mice, apparcnrly I'riften in
the fifih century B.C. by an author no$' unkrorvn.l5 Thc '\
'\,,1
other is a satirical narrarive in English versc called Tll
Vision ol Judgmenl, writ.en by Lord Byron ir 1821. Onc
is light and flimsy, the other rich and thoughtful. They
both have one virtue which is not common among parodier:
they are amusing even if you do not know the originals
which they are satirizing.
No\,t, The Rattle ol Frags and. Mt.d is a careful and
clever travesty of rhe styte oI Homeric epic poetry. Ir is iI
strong and melodious hexameler ve$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: 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
.80.
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
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
1,rir.1ri style of the Homeric epics. It does so through a favorite
r
device of srylisric parody. By applying Homer's manner to
plf'*i'r
subjectr smaller and meaner tha[ his own, it makes us feel
that the Homeric style is, even when applied to men, exag-
gerated, 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$'ait some tftmendous utrcrance. The piano
enters. With one finger, the pianist plays the simpte rune
.82.
PARODY
h we knorv as "Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any
o doubt, then, the chief emphasis in Thc Battle ol
azd Mi.e lies on the archaisms and exaggerations of
Ilomeric style of poetry. Yer after rve 0nish reading the
poem, e see drat its satire extends also to the-subject-
ter of the Homeric ePics. The Olympian gods, who are
rafier iirel.erently treated in Homer, are here
far more boldly just as daringly as th€y were on
Afienian comic stage. Athena declares that she will not
to help the embattled mice, becar$e drey hale spoiled
c garlands atrd lamps in her temple by nibbling the
ths and drinking up dre oilj and, 1vo$e 5ti11, they
gnalred holes in her grext ceremonial Panathenaic
. At the end, 1{hen the olher gods implore Zeus to
the war, he rdke( hi{ tenible '1,,ifr liShrning urrers
the boll down ro earth with
Pcal oI thunder, and hurls
lcarsome crash. The mice pay no attention to it. Then
as r!'e watch the dauntless frogs and the magnani-
mice baltling one another i!'ilh iron will_Polver and
uenchable courag€, and as we see Lhem linally driven
Lo rout only by a s$,arm of armored monst€rs r{ith eyes
lheir breasls, rve inevitably think of human rvars; and
rily their..prorvess are exaldng the absurd, the aniinal
lc of human nature. Thetelore The Battle ol Frogs and 'l
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
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.
 PARODT PARODI
ti."-.,
191_ff1.-tlt9"l.ll_"j.- victims; and here is a parody l,rhich under the influence oI strong political feelings, is a
has far outsoared ils leaden rvinged original.
if not a presumptuous, undertaking.'t, Even apart
King George III became insane at the age of fifty. Hc George's orvn narrow chalacter and eccentric man-
recovered, and lapsed again, and at last crossed dre fronrier
t!, his blindness ard his insanity made him quire unfit
Permanently inLo the realm of darkness. When he died bc the central figure of a mighty cosmic event involving
at the age of eighty-two, he had been a burden to himself Almighty, the archangels and the angels, th€ souls o{
and others for many years. Never a good king, he had beer blessed, George Washington, Charles I, Queen Eliza-
neither popular nor successful, and it rvould have been besr Richard Lionheart, Alfaed the Great, Chaucer, Spen"
to aliow him to be forgorten. But the Poet Laureate, Shakespeare, Milton, Marlborough, Handel, Hogarth,
Roberl Soufiey, had a strong sense of duty, a passionatc Hastings, Cowper, Chatterton, Wilkes, Junius, and
devotion to the ideal of monarchy, and a high-ranging r----all oI rehom, in the f/irion, are concerned with his
poetic ambition. Since his appointment to th€ Laureate ission to, or exclusion from, heaven. Southey could
ship, he felt that far too few opportunities for rvricing y ignore the unhappy disabilities under which the
ambitious ceremonial poetry had presented rhemselves. monarch had long labored: so he cured him of
Among the living members of the royal house of Hanover,
by a pair of miracles. Through the first miracle, King
not many werc rroth glorifying. This did noc discourage having been resurected, regained his reasoning
Southey. To celebrate the d€ath o[ George III, he com,
. (Then, in a passage of exquisite absurdity, he
posed a poetic apocalypse in rvhich he personally raised
t a complete report of aU that had happened \qhile he
George lrom the grave, escorted him up to the gares of
out of touch. The report was rendered to him by
heaven, saw him examined, wirh witnesses for and against,
Perceval, once Pdme Nlinister of England, rvho
on his fitness to enter the hosrs oI the blessed, beheld dre
ld been murdered in rgr2 and was restored to life bv
king's triumphant entry into paradise, and returned home
they for this purpose.) Through the second miracle,
again to that earthly paradise, Cumberland. This is not an
orge regained his youthful appeannce, and the mortal
exaggention. Southey's I/irio?, ol Judgment is actually a off mortality: not that any of the house of Hanovet
vision of the resurection, trial, and bealification oI King particularly handsome. The welcome given to King
George III, w tten in a tone which rhe author hinself
O!8e at heaven's po):tals, the unsuccessful attempt of the
explicitly compares to that of Dante, and in English hexa fiend, supported by those minor d€vils, Wilkes and
met€rs which $'ere clearly intended to rival the verse of
us, to Liep him our, rnd hi\ lriDmphanr enlly inlo
Vergil. realm of eternal bliss are too ridiculous to describe
The subject is one at which r€ are all relucranr to scoll,
detail. Were it not for a certain fluency in the verse and
for r,re should think seriously of death and the judgmenr;
lCrtain unmistakable conviction in the tone, rhey would
but poor old Georgr was too $'eak ro suPporr its weigtrt, lrresistibly comical self-parody. Southey's f/irion of ludg-
and ir became, even in Southey's reverent hands, absurd. I reminds us, both of the huge buoque rombs of noble
As the poet's own son put it, "It musL be allo ed fiat to
entities which clog the churches of western and central
speculate upon the condirion of the deparred, especially
Urope, and of the elaborate floral tdbures and family
.84. .85.
 PARODT
albums rvhich l\'cre dear to the Victorian age. Having
been, in his youth, a rcvolutionary, eulogizing Wat Tyler
andJoan ofArc and solving life s problens by pantisoclacy,
sourhcy became one ol rhe fi)\r Vi' lorian\.
II Southey had been content to r.ite an apocalypse in
ve$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 con-
temporary rvriters, r'hose books, he said, were lascivious
1jrith the spirit oI Belial, cruel wirh fie spirit of Moloch,
and proud $'ith the spirir of Saian hims€lf. Obviously this
was an attack on Byron, vho was thereby identified rvith
the arch-viliain of the l/;lion of Judgment.In a Ietler to a
newspaper Southey added l\'hal srung Byron even more, a
pointed allusion to his dimculty in concrolling his emo-
tions. (He adv;ed Byron, if he uished to reply, to do so
in verse: "for one rt'ho has so litile command of himselt,
it uill be a great advantage that his temper should be
obliged to Adsp tirra.") At firsr, rlhen he read this, Byron
thought of going back to Engiand and challenging Southey
to a duel. He contenled himself with killing his poem.
Bfto']'s Visian aJ Judgment is not a close parody ol
Southey's. It keeps the mair lines of the original, but no
more. Its tone is of course quite diEerent. Its meter is
di{Ierent: the jaunay eight line stanzas of iambic penta'
meter called ottttlta rina. Its pocric ideal is different:
Southey ook as his models Vergil, Dante, and Nfilton,
while Byron says his model is the Spanish satirist Quevedo.,0
Instead of Iollorving Southey's poem section by section,
through the revivilicatjon of George III past his judgmenl
to his beatification, Byron tells the story differently, from
his orvn coolly cynical poinr of vie$'. 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 arch-
Michael as defender, Satan as prosecutor, and a great
of $'itnesses. Blron's climax is the same conception
Southey's but better handled. Wilkes is called to the
h 0hat bar over l,hich the blessed Lamozel $'as later
be seen leaning), and, rvith his typical contemptuous
, savs
For mF, I hate to,Biren
And \"rF l'i. habP.,q ,ortu" inLo l,'"\^n
s, a man of principle, is summoned, he rvill
t when Juni
forgive. In one of those deadly serious, profoundly
utterances which often come in the middle of the
satire, he accus€r George III of injuring Britain.
I IovFd my .oun'r). and I hJr"d Iim.
then-but before the verdicl can be render€d, the
is blorvn rrp and rvhirled auay in dre fireworks of
ter. As a ch:rracter-wilness for Georg€, Southey him"
ir miraculously vrafled up to the judgmenr s€al, and
lns, inevitibln to rend his fkion of ludgment This is
much. It terminates the proceedings. Not even the
court of heaven can remain in session and listen to
lhey\ poetry, unmoved.
Those srand hcroics acted as a spell;
Thc Angels stopped their errs and plied their pinions;
The Derils ran ho$'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,
Was, that King George slipped into Heaven {or onei
And when the tumult dwindled to a calm,
I l€ft him practising the hundredth psalm
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 out-
come: 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 sub-
jects 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
nfhr. Byron's Satan is cerninly lvorthy of Dante, or
llton, or of his orvn so[l at its blackest.
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 con-
pL 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

8o then, 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
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 a^' oon qrolp \^a' rcdir o\. ed in r;otj. ir
.89

Irom Btron! I,rio, ot Jrdgac,t. ti.nsrarinA hl

Henrr Fmeli. thorogmph by ciraud.n, l,ari\
 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 bor-
rowed 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 :! i:
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 Cha-
brier. In 19z6 the bdlliant and opinionared composer
.90
 Schiinberg, "to warn ofi some younger contem-
t{ho had been attacking him," published ?ftze
lor Mixed. Chorus (op. r8), with birter, contemp-
but 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 over-
aoncludd 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 Phil-
ic 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 somc-
thing. 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 man-
litually, 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€ss-
t 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 Mediter-
from 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 work-
called 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 adminis-
ttation of the town is now in my hands. For atl rhat happens
I am responsiblel" Only then did he realize that the irtri-
cacies 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 ac-
ion that only a very alert classicist, and certainly no
ccupieal naval omcer, $ould ever d€tect il." Through-
lhe 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,
ps the most charming thing about the lillle advenlure
8ce, in the photograph of dre masqueraders, Peering
bclow a turban, from a heavily bearded and mous-
.95,
 PARODl
tached brown face, the high slender nose and large sensitive
eyes oI the future Virginia lVoolf.
Norq a hoax is corrccrly dcfin€d by rhe Oxford Diction-
ary 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, $,hen
Hannibal drove herds of cattle along a mounrainsi.le in
the darkness, rvith burning torches ti€d to their horns, in
order to make rhe Romans believe his enrire army was shift-
ing ground and escaping from a trap, he was not hoaxing
the enemy: he rvas pracdcing a serious military deception,
setting up a moving decoy. The case of lhe Caprain of
Kiipenick is more complex. Although mosr of the cermans
took it seriously, hardly anyone else did. Therefore, within
Germafly it was a c minal fraudj but-because ir displayed
in full eflorescence certain German chamcterisrics which
memben of orher nations find unadmirable and lu.licrous
the resr o{ the world it.$rae a hoax: ir was rhe equiv-
-for
alent of a sarire on cerman militarism, cerman discipiine,
Cerman a,.ura.). dlr $ose printut Cermdn virLues.
And ('hat of the Emperor of Abyssinia? Does thar im,
pcr(ona,ion conrain sarire? One mighr pe,hrps di,mLs ir
as a prank, like pufting a corv into the chapel tor?er. Bur
Addan Stephen's book shows that it cur deep. The Aclmiral
of the Channel Fleer and his officers were laughed at. When
they rrent ashore, litrle boys Iouorved them, shouLing
"Bunga bungal" in imitation oI the ,.Abyssinians."
eues_
tions were asked irl Partiamenr. The Navy grerr very bitrer.
In *re wardroom, Virginia Srcphen \,\'as called ,.a com-
mon woman of the lown"-no doub! because she had dis,
guised herself as a man and made an rmchaDeroned exctr-_
.96.
sion into male telritory. Fimlly, Horace Cole and Duncan
Granr were sought out by groups of ofnce$ 'ho intended
to thrash them. These vengeful rvnrriors r{ere at last con-
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 $'ent away
awed and flattered. "Ihar kind oI diplomatic courtesy
helped to build up a gigantic empire. The "Dreadnought"
hoax was a mocking exposure of its flimsiness and insin-
cerity. Thus, the light-hearted little impersonation camied
out by hau a dozen youngsters in lheir t$,enlies rvas a satire
on the enrire British impe al system.
At least rrvo oI the world's most famous sadric rrite$
were responsible for elabomte hoaxes, which were essen-
rial'\ 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 dis-
appeared. 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
.97.
 PARODT
deaf will hear poorly. , . , Old age $'i11 be incurable this
year, becalrse oI the years past . . According to the cal-
culations of Albumazar, this $'iU- be a Plentiful year for
those drat have €nough. . . . In ('inter rvise men $ill not
sell their fur coats ro buy firewood."
Nearly tl{o centuies later a crueler satirist produced a
dea.Uier hoax. A self-educated English cobbler, using the
name of lohn Parrridqq, liad n rdc a good liring tor many
years r,y i'ilrling*#J pub';.hins a vea'h almanac of fore-
casts for the coming tlvelvemonth, called MctLinus Libera'
t?6, "Merlin set lrce." This in i6eu would scarcely have
been objectionabte; bul the darge|t{irh a1l this kind of
forecasting is tha! the unscrupulous can use it to prey uPon
the unwary by slipping in propaganda, and Partridge so
used it. IIe was an o[t-and-out Whig, an enemy of the
Established Church, and an ardenl foc of the Papists: he
saw danger to British liberties everyrvhere, and frequently
influenced the p[blic mind by the gmvity of his proPhecies-
He caught the sharp cold eye of Tonathan Srvift, rvho re'
solved to destroy him. Partridge had rePeatedly challenged
rival asrrotogers to compete with him in foretelling &e
fi1rure. Under a frctitious name, Swifr accepted the chal'
lenge. At the end of r7o7, as usual, Partridge Published
his Merlin s Liberatus f$ r7o8. A litlle later Sf ift Prtb-
lished 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 Pre-
Aictions. 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.
nearly lour hours. shorrly afrenra'd. having killed ParL-
ridge, 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 Inquisi-
i tion, 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 re-
i peating d1e fact and attacking "Bickerstafi" as an impudent
lying fellow. But this simply evoked from Swift a Vindica-
tion of Isduc Bicherstat, poinring out that the supposed
Partridge's denials of rve ,established facts rvere absurd.
r Seldom has there been a more keenly conceived and em-
ciently 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 him-
which 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 in-
spired 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 instance-
Dcsp,ir con,es when al1 comcdy
,\nd there ;s lelt no rragcdv
In an_1 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$'n ycst.
Asparagus ;s f€arliery and
trlt,
And rhe hose lies rotting by the garden all.
This bool( rvas l,elcomed by some American critics and dis-
paraged by others, raken seriously by atmosr all. It l{as a
hoax. The Specrrists rvere invenred by a reat poet, Wifter
Bynner. Their poems were composed in t€n days, rrirh the
help of tcn quarts of l'hisky, by Bynner and hb lriend
Arlhur Davison licke. The rr\.o hoaxers sent the collec-
tion to a reputable publisher, rvho accepred it as a bona
fide mannscript. The Neu Refublic, ah,ays looking for
'toa.
abetter futrrr€, helpcd th€ spoof by asking WiLter Bynner
himself to revierv SpectftL in its columns_$,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
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
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?
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 re-
rrrrncd 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 con8re-
gadon; and ho(., in the other tor{n, they erected an eques'
trian srarue, classically nude, of the local Gallic hero Ver-
cingetorix, 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.
P ARO DY
a satire on certain ingrained trails of Lhe French provincial:
respect for the army, r€gional parriotism, ceremonial om-
tory, arid piety, devoted self-admimtion, and lack oI humor.
All 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.
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 literature-
Homer, 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 lirera-
tures 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 pat-
tera 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, epi-
gram, and certain types oI satire; and it is typical of
burlesque. The $riter of burlerque in prose or poetry also
likes a simple colloquial style, avoids solemn rhetoric, tries
to sound natuml. His sentences are short and easy; if he
wdtes verse, his meter i jogrrot (octosyllables are a favor-
ite) or clumsily comical. His poetry is often like prose, and
his prose like conve$ation. Or else he may turn ali his
poetic art into laughable ingenuity, Ihyming "Peri Hup-
sous" 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 mock-
heroic 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
heroes, when their tiny bilings and scratchings rvere de-
scribed wirh all the intensity of a Homeric battle, and
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 grin-
ning 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' Per-
haps, 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, $rhere the treatmenl is grandiose; and bur-
lesque, rehere the treatment is low. Don Quixote himself is
.106.
FANODI
mockJrcroicj Sancho h burlesque. Pistol is mock-hercic;
Falstaff, aparr from one scene, is burlesque.
Although these two styles of satire are clearly differcnt,
it is nor easy to find fully satisfactory names to distinguish
them. Addison (in numbd 219 ot The Speclator) tuad.e
the distinction fairly clear, but did not name th€ tlvo types.
"Burlesque is therefore of two kinds: the fil3t represents
mean pe$ons in the accoutrements of heroes, the oth€T de-
lcribes 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 "mock-
heroic" 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-
$late tor The BattLe of l;rogs tLntl Mice and, all its succes-
sors, "burlesque" for Firdibrdr and all its tribe-
Many successful saiires have been couched in the form
of epic parody. The fi$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 in-
debted to The Battle ol Frags and Mice: Battle of Flies
^
.107'
 PARODI
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 $'e should include an
eleganr Battte ol Cranes and Pygmies, iltrL?tin verse, based
on a hint in the Jtiad, by Joseph Addison aa
The Lecteln,hy Nicolas Boileau (Books 1-4, r 6?2; Books
I qrt'r g'6, 1683), is an ironically mock-hercic account of a trivial
dispute b€tween tlto ecclesiastical officials of the Sainte
N.t'- Chapelle in Paris: it begins with a fairly close imitation of
the opening passages ot the first and seventh books oI
veryil's Aeneid,'t Dryd€n, in .Absalom and Achitophel
(168r), carried our rvith triumPhant success the bold idea
of taking an episode from Hebrew history, tuming it lvith
apparent se ousness into heroic Poetry, and thereby sati-
rizing certain prominent politicians. The theme was
Shaftesbury's attempL to make Monmoulh (an illegitimate
son of Charles II) the accePted heir to the throne. Shafles_
bury and Monmouth and their supporters are keenly char-
acteriz€d and slashingly sadrized; but only a very daring
satid$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 $ritten in
heroics." However, Alexander Pop€, ag€d seventeen, cor,
rected him. ("'Tis true," said Dryden, "I had foBot
them."xt
Pj!:l own R(lPe ol the ZocA is a graceful, o.,a li, fofa
DuiiTfifa gracetess, parody of Homer. When working on a
translation, writers oft€n have a strong desire to asserr their
orvn independence by satirizing th€ir author; and such rvas
Pope's case.r! His ftiend Srvift,. after several disappoint"
mentg in serious poeffy, would never attempt it again; bua
in his prose Battle of the rooAr he I|Tote a parody o{
Homer-inspired, although he deni€d ir, by the much
richer and witrier parody by Frnnqois de Callidres, Poatic
H'stofy of the War Recently Dectared, betueen the Ancients
and the Madens. and,derling wirh rhesame"ubjecr trin\-
-
Ierred to Ensland.'e Henr-v Fieldins det lared rhar hi, Tom !ul,l,, .t
"comii^
"m
epifiaTpeir u, n energy on trying LJ
"folr, wa. a
to prove it, in his disqnisitions scafter€d through the novel.
It is not. It is essenriallya comic romance, rvith the essential
emphasis on love and the final revelation of a concealed
identity; but it does contain some passages rvhich parody
the grand effecls of heroic poetry.
The most famous modem distortion of a heroic poem is ktf"."
Joyce's Ul"r',Fes, which is based on the OzJ)$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 con-
ception, 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 con-
tempomneous. 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 de-
scribing 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 well-
bucket 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
l
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. There-
fore 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.$,n
enemies. Ti? Rupe ol the BrcAet is therefore a very un,
usual, perhaps unique, pocm: a belvilclering btend of the
herni, and rlre burtF\rlLre and rlre \ariri.. I' tr,, an rb.urd
opening and a smilingly domestic close. Most of its inci_
dents are serious in substance or in implication, bul ar
some point tbey near-ly all become comicat; and in iL rhere
are €nough parody of grand literary devices and cnough
.111.
 PAROD'I:
derisive distortion of importart facts and enough sln,rll,
crudely renlistic, vulgarly comical incidents to arouse thr
centml emorion of contemPtuoirs amusem€nt which is
proPer to saLire.
A lively but brief success rvas achieved in the seventecntlr
century by Paul Scarron with a burlesque epic hicl)
satirizes norhing much excePr the original CPic poem, and,
drrough it, the somervhaL exaggerated reverence lelt l)y
Scarron's contemporaries for Greco-Roman poetry ;ln(l
mythologT. This is i/argil Truuestied 0618 1652). It ie
simply a paraphrase of dre frrsl eight books of the Aeneitl,
turned into jocutar octosyllabic couplets far lighrer ar(l
thinner than the rich hexameten of the original, and i\'illr
every single heroic and dmmadc eflect diminished, dis'
torted, degraded- For instance, a leading motive of tN'
.{dreid is Juno's bitter hared of rhe Trojans, a harlc(l
sprung from mary roots, chiel among lrhich is
the judgment of Paris, scornful insult to her bcauty.'"
Scarron rakes this and elaborates it irlto exact details, r\'hich,
although vulgar, are funny. After the beauty conlcst b('
rween the goddesses, he says, Paris revealed drat J not
breasts were too long, her armpits too hairy, and her knecs,
for a lady of quality, too dirry. Crudely amusing thorr8lr
this is, the modern reader'$'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 hippo-
in 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. Ap-
tly 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 (sur-
ngly, for all auLhor so sophisticated) becomes really
epic ler us turn to its relative, romance: iI we may
Itom
Cohvenience give that name to the hybrid prose tales,
timate otrspring of epic poeLry, amorous comedy, ard
'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 ro-
mances rvhich have survived are lorrg and inrricate, in-
efiably high-minded, loftily arrificiat in style, nildty im-
probable 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 main-
tains her virginiry. Their adlentures, although painful,
are all trials lvhich rhey surmount irh uiumph, steps
toward lheir eventual happiness. In the end they are re-
united, 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
Instead of being pur through 'hei,
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 in-
telligenr 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 $'Iitten a spirited chapter
about the Camemdo's adventures in a hobo jungle fuil oI
syphiliric degenerates who had taken to the open road for
totally ditrerent reasons. And yet, because he was a sarirical
gen iuq. the. ha prer \\'oLrld be iron icalty am rr"ing.
The Middle Ages wer€ devored to romance; anil there-
fore the wits of lhe Renaissance made fun of romance. The
whole oF Babel,_is grear
_rvo-rl_j<-in-lorm a parodv of rhe
a.l\enr,rres ol miBhrv gidn(, and heroic kings rrhi,,r oere
told in the many cyctes of medieval imaginative 6ction;
and its clima.x, the search for the oracle of ttr.
&.U!9I1.,
is a parody of the quesr of King Arthur's t<nfrG-Giine
HoIy Cup or Grait. Counr Matteo Maria Boiardo was no
doubt serious in intenrion rr,hen he wrore It oland in Lol)c.
bur Ihe brillidnr .ari'i,r Berni rev;rd ir ,o ar Lo male it
humorous and parodicj and throughour irs continuarion,
The Madness ol Roland, by Ariosto, Ive can expect parody
to be blended rvith serious romantic feelilg on every page.
 PARQDI
The most illustrious of all modern satires ol1 roman{ic
is Cervanres Don Q',lixote (ParL r, r605; ParL 2. t6ri)
fh" #--;iii1i";;;i.ir book and his squile san\1,,'
are so intensely and convincingly alive, and thefu adven'
tures so engaging, that most readers nowadays ale conteDl
to overlook the mistakes and inconsistencies of its creator.
Many of these emors are relatively unimportant. But ontr
at least is so considerable that it damages the impact of thc
satire. When I fi$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 cen-
turies 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
. '117.
116.
P ARO DT
lodcal tonesi at the opening of his adventures he im-
ises 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 grev-
hound. 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 rhrer-
quarters of his income.dl
lived "not long ago." Soon h€ is
or Quesada,
more exactly. While he is recovering from his frrst
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\ Ccr-
ies has been a great lriend of mine for many years "0'
fore Quixada, who was "about fifty" $'hen his ad-
tur€s began "not long ago," is an exact contemporary
Cervantes, who wa$ fifty_eight when ihe frIst Part of
on Quixote was publish€d. In some I'ays he was a pro-
atio;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
other. One aspect oI this is that Cervantes changes his
nccption and treatment of the fake knightl adventures.
the ninth chapter he says that in Toledo he discovered
 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: therc-
fore 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
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 $'ere con
temporary Ir'ith Cervantes. Bur by this change of conceP-
tion Cervantes has abandoned realism for fantasy, and so
has made himself into Don Quixote. By turning from
contemporary burlesque to mock heroic parody, he shilts
the aim of his satire, He mocks the chenp modern tomances
and those rvho adclt€ Lheir brains by reading them; but
he also affectionarely mocks the ideal of knighthood even
as it rvas in its futl florver-the idcal rvhich he himseu had
. 118,
P ARO D!
y tried to serve by contrasting its impossible aspira_
ns wiLh the bard low comic facts of real life.
Q ixote has had many imitators in many languages. In
ish the best'kno$'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 crack-
As 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
and
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 dis-
lllurioned 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
$r[ld laughing at use]ess efforts. But Buller
Quixote's
llw[ys loerv $ho rvas foo]ing vhom, and never enterlained
'119.
 P ARO DY
tbe idea that madness migha be a nobler thing than sanily
Don ?-ui:$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
lhin ptays: in each case the device emphasizes Lhe forced
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 [ill-
him, AmPhitryon is the perfectly libidinous burlesque
cdy. It inspired many imitations-for instance by Dry-
End 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
tural quality of the exaggeratedly heroic style thqr are
ying. One of our most versatile satirists, Henry Field"
s$nck otr Totn Thum& ll,e Gzd, at the age of rrventy-
and n"ext year, in the mock'scholariy manner o{ the
CIub, added a number of notes, sho$'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.
 P ARO DI
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(
as torenind ur uncomtorlably ol Prametheus Unbountll
and the jokes are painfully ped;lntic, as rvhen the lonial
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 tech-
Ucs of 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 him-
ln Marlovian verse:
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?
0 slrangest 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 great-
llrisodes 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
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
y (listorted 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 Shake-
Ic 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!
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 babi< r
I m;xed those chiidren up,
And not a .reaturc kncw itlrl
.124
PAIIODf
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 oper-
seem (apart from the few consistently romandc Pieces
The yeomen ol the Guard) to be little more than
ies of serious opera, as the gay frolics of Of€nbach-
^s
h6us in HeIL, Bedutiful ltdl.n, etc.-are burlesques of
opera. Bul the Ofienbach pieces also satiriTea con-
French 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
lllcctiveness, it falls far behind all these, because oI the
ignored rhe far grearcr issues of irs day-greeity financien
and desperate unemployed, ar and the after,agonies ol
Thcre are trvo chicf rcasons for irs failure. one is rhat
$'ar- He accuses Eliot oI despising democracy, and (in x
b tlrrrid ana indirecr. Thu nrme ol f lioL i\ neler men-
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 ir-
t 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 en-
into heaven. In bitterness of spirit, it is closest to
Dlmciad, in venatility oI parody, to 7',4e Frogr. But
l(rl and spiritual rveaknesses ol its author.
. 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$torting their names: Tlre ll//rid
1-a?1.i becomes The Va&nt Mind, and Ash Wednesltl'
significantly, The Blood Bath ol the Mass To attack nott-
exirtcnt poems attributed to a ficdtious character i$ 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, $'hich tends to be rathera solemn gcrrrr,
can easily be mocked. It would not, I rhink, b€ riglrt lir
ca:ll O\id's Art of Lots a sati c parody of a didactic pocrrl
it is a didactic poem o a light subject, treated with rl '
appropriate leviry; ahhough I have no doubt that itc irr
it to be a gay r{orldly counterpart to the thou8hdul
Ittic Georgicr of Vergil.
er, one of the most pungenr satites eveNilten
rnock-didaclic poem in dignified and skiluul blank
This is Tn' rd), in lour
oi;i'riffcrly-tiiiiaLs-ubi;ct.
"tiiai"y," aui"i"g, and Nignt, t'y
iiiii;"i,
"
hedly poor and highly gifted intellectual, Giuseppe
(rtp9'r?99).'" It is a detaited description of a day
life of an indolent, conceited, and l,orthless young
man, set forrh lvith every scmblance of solemn rvide-
0dmiration. Although the pocm is lar longer than
I's richly detai]ed description of the hard-vorking
t routine, almost nothing happens ir it. His lord'
leads the life ot d,olce lM niante which is still the
of many trIedit€rranean men. He does not, iike
rv, lie in bed most of Lhe day."{ But he dses lalc,
by deferential servants:it lakes nine hundred lines
dcscribe his etaborate toitel and the various stages of
Costuming, until at las! he sallies forth
to bLr$ the elFq nt his dcar fdrherLand.3"
goes 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 hun-
o[ 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
.129.
 PARODI
(remi sccnt of Lucrerius, rrirh a quolariol
finest passages
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
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
P
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
[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 ob-
from 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
f, Since it usually dependj.mor:e on soxnd than on sense, it
tlrl rfllly sufficient to t(ist or diminish the meaning a little,
d to cmphasize $e tricks of rhyrhm and metody, in order
tt|ange the original from sweetness and porver into
. 131.
r/
 PARODI
laughter. Aristophanes sarirized rhe lyrical solos an(l
choruses of Euripides merely by applying tireir passionatc
roulades and urgenr reperirions ro rri\ial subjecLr. Vereit r
. . .l)
early poer,y is der ribed by Hora,e. in a phra.. r. ti-iiii t','
often puzzled scholars, as possessing molle atque Iacetum."/
But it is true that his B?rcolicr (which only rhe uninformcd
call Ecloguer) ar€ characreristically "sensitive and sophisti.
cated," even "r,itty"; and although rve can scarcely avoi(l
seeing him as dre architec! of the tragic lrnaid, we shoull
remember tha! he starred his poetic career with a Ie$, 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
| | r i't'1i 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:
No mor€ of rhis, for goddes dignireet
says he, in the very voice of rhe approaching Renaissancr,,
.132
adds in the r erY tone of Rabelais that such Poerry
nat worth a tord,"j3
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\ Pin-
poem\ which were seriou\l) inrended. By rheir tul
. '. i, li
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 $rell as herc belo\a',
(The so.ldss Muce herqeu has rolJ co)
'ne
\4herahish p.,ri,i,n.oulc dr."d heJrcnly e r\
Sit clad in lawn of purer oven daY,
Therc some high-sPirircd thronc 1o sancroft shall be given,
ln the,netroDolis of Hen!en:
Chiel ot rhe ln,"..1 .,;n'' and nom 'rr\pr"lrre h"r' '
Translalecl to archangel there."?
Swift knew such stufi 'was useless' and after Dryden
lirmed il ("Cousin Slvift, yolr lvill never be a Pocl"), he
anme an antiPoet, who Preferred to mock and degrade
fivo spirited
C gocldess NtrLrse. For examPle, Dryden wrote
Ildarics intendeal to evoke the various por{'ers of music
d to be sung bt the Sl Cecilia Society. s$'ift wrote
ddntdtd ridic line the poeric and musical imitation ot
and emotions, tfhich made Pegasus inro a hack, "crol-
Dg, lolloping, galloping," in 6/8 time.
ln Englistr the most famou$ 4gllllagrrody is an in-
nlons iittle poem *,hich i"-77i-Ahti'Jacobin
"ppeo..d the
ieta in 1798. In srbject, it satirizes Philanthropists
. 133,
 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
When womaD's sofr smile 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?
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 o[ his Spenserian stanza
his characteristic sple€n.
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€.
Comparison $,itb this hypodermic satire, the wooden
lu of "Peter Pindar" and his coarse mock epic ?lre
laJidr, are artistically ineffective, although they were, in
llr iime, good politicai propaganda.r"
l'hc mid-ninereenth century produced one of lhe most
llllanr of att parodists in linglish liierature: C. S. Calver
(r8gr-rBB4). His mock-Morris batlxd, wift the pastoral
n "Butter and cggs rnd a poufld of che€se," is a small
and (altho[gh i! is not lydcal but dramatic) hiri CocA
d Lhc Bull, satirizing Browning's fiirg azd the Booh, is
lllrrsterpiece .r0o !Vith tncxpccted hul11or, Swinburne
xlicd himself in a luxurious lyric jntittlcd Nd/ftdlidid,
hh is quasi Greek for "Mistinesses." The lines namble
wAver like long drifts of cioud.
illltlis the mirk and monotonous music of memorv.
melodionsly mute as it may be,
While the hope in the heart of a hcro is brui.ed br rhe
bre,rch of men's rapicN, resigDed ro the rod;
Murlc meek as a moth€r ahose bosom.bcats bound w;rlr
lhe bliss-bringing bulk of a balm breaLhing baby,
Ar thcy grope through ttic gravelard ol oeeds, under
skies growing green at a groan for the g mness ot cod.
l0ntemporary critic has said that Sr,inburne was here
(lying only his own trick of mechnnical alliteration;
i iurely he rvas also satirizing the logonhoea lvhich, in
.135
,/
 PARODY
his lyrics, often conceals the juvenility of his thought; hi$
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
Eliot has rarely been parodied rvith much success. Ile hirrr.
self says, in characterisric tones, "One is apt to think oll{.
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 woman-
the mistress of Pericles; and that she had composed
tly extempore and partly by sticking together {rag-
of the funeral speech sh€ r{rcte for P€dcles to deliver.
wouid be very suitable in a sadric comedy by Arisro-
but 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 Scrip-
lras clear in strxcture and expression, and rhat rhe
ln VulgaE translation $'hich the Western church had
fot a thousand years was the central path to its under-
. Erasmus, who spent much effort on esrablishing
iable text of the Greek Nerv Testamenr. rvas a friend
lympathizer of Reuchlin.
e dispute grelv hot. The Dominicans used rhe w€alth
irmendicant order to influence rhe Papal Courr. They
a large organization, a venerable name, and a popular
. Reuchlin had few supporters, excepr rhe new gen-
of classical scholan, the "humanists," who r,"'erc
by churchmen and lairy to be inclin€d toward
, However, in r5 r4 he published a collection ol.heir
ce with him, Nritten in Larin, creek, and
rew, and called Z?lfrrs of Distinguished Men.To th;s
opponents did not reply; but someone replied for rhem-
winter of r5rb'rbr6 there appeared a volum€ of
e Letters al Obscure Mfl addressed to afl €minenr
er of the Taculty of Theology at Cologn€, Orrwin
Craes. They are, it would appear, lerters from earnest
Porters of Master Ortwin, and Pfeff€rkom, and the
nican ord€r. But tley are not merely eulogies o{
.139.
.).
 PARODY
Reuchlin's opponents and invectives against Reuchlin,
They are more. They are a. sedes of satirical pictures o[
small minds naively expressing their ignolance, of pedant$
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 candor-
usually 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\ i. impos\ible ro
. 140.
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 $'ilh the council's resolutions.
orations ar.e, of course, impossibly frank: the Duc de
ycnne compares himself lo a bloody-handed Roman dic-
, saying thac he lvas "a Sood Catholic Sulla"; and the
legate ends with a benediction (in Italian), "God
war be with youl" It is an amusing, but a cutting sadre;
although now scarcely rcadable excePt by sPecialists,
in its time help to change history.
olh .he Letters of Obscure,l{en and the M€niqfean
attacked the emotiollal and intellectual attitude of
p, Later, the art of prose became more complex. The
oI Greek and Roman rhetodc were rediscovered
adapted. Individual t\'riters developed their special
; aflectatiols such as the tight arabesques oI Eu-
rn*became fashionable; and both were parodied
mimicry, delicate in the eighteenth cen!ury, became
-n6{etii in the nineteen$. There ar€ two line prose
in the Smirlr tttotlrt. Rcl4tPd l,tdre\,"): a
. 141
.)
 P ARO DI
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.
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 $,or t(s
of vencrable antiqtity, by using the same techniques i)t
"scholarly analysis" to shol' that rhe second part of Br
yai's Pilgrinfs ProgTerr r,as a forgery composed by l
.112'
P ARO Df
, and an ,,\ng1o-Catholic to boot; and that three
t authors creared Boswell's Lile ol Johnsan.
O! all the Amcrican Presidents, DJ{4ht. D. Eisenho$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
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 East-
o|,r) areas,w;rh rhis idea rhey were following up based on a
torl of national independencc arrangcment and the pro-
BrAm 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
Iln'1.$3
Itose ficLion, if intensely vritlen, ofren parodies itselt.
l;xprrlar, ir ah^.rrys arts to Le parodied. The modem
vel was no sooner born, in tears and vapors, than it i\'as
lrxlicd, in Lumors and lccrs. Samuel Richxrrlson's
n!t!,tln::! ylr!!,'9-I!"tL,dr_dc.l (,74i}) telti horr a senant-$r1
$lth n Doble heart resists rhe elTorts of her rnasrer to nake
t hir mi.rrcs. and i. rcs llde,l h) L.,nn:ne lri( l,"Jl
r Sllr, llcnry Ficlding's Jos. llt An drelLr.\ (ri4r) tell, Loiv hcr
blothcr, a Iootman rvirh a noble heart, rcsists the ellorts
.143,
J
 PAROD!
of Lady Booby, his employer, to seduce him, and is r(.
warded far more reasonably by being discharged and fin(l.
ing a girl of his o$'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($
alone, as pure comedy. While I still a junior schoolboy,
rvas
and long before I had even heard of mos! of the author$
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, I rras sritl amus(rt,
.144.
P Df ARO
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
s
emen$ o[ parodi{ sarire in any ]an-
lge; 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 con-
novelist. trxamples:
'he hut in vhich slepr the wh;!e man 1{'as oD a clearing
llweer the forest and the ver.
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
h
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.
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.
Ihnd 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 $'hite beard, a red rlster, anal
t looks like a sack over his shoulder. Beerbohm s paro-
Were intended to \\,ound. As lve knolv from his biog-
ty, he had a streak of feline cruelty. He liked making
lleti little fo€erics, and atterirg smooth pictures, and
roying rich reputations. He always loarired Kipling;
. 115
 P DIARO
of Lady Booby, his employer, to sedoce him, and is r(-
warded far more reasonably by being discharged and find.
ing a girl of his own. Since then, €very eminent novelisl
has been parodied, and the work still goes on.t,
Many of these parodics can be enjoyed for themselv($
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, I rras sritl amus(rt,
.144.
Df P ARO
lhoul feeling thar Brer Harte liad diminished th€ir
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 ]an-
lge; but its inrent is destructive. Il conrains eighreen
Chdsh; riif
llc tales about is placed in the favodre
ling, told in the preferred language and rhytlm, and
with the characterisLic €motional color: of a con-
novelist. trxamples:
The hur in sh:,h .lepr rl,e sl-ire man s!, on a,learing
between the forest eni 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.
lelr it.
ln(I, pro5pe.ri\ cLy,
lll Tantalu, 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.
Ihnd 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 paro-
Were intended to ound. As lve kno\v from his biog-
ty, 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.
. Amid
irg
this phantasmagoric chaos, in a thousand tirtte st..t,
towns built across rhe land (O mv Americal O mlt)
I
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
$i]d and moumful sorrow ar the thought, rhe wondcrtLrt
thought, drat elerldring I have seen an(i known (and hiL*
I not known and seen a1l drat i, 1l) bc sccn and knowD rrlx,jr
dris dark, brooding continent?) has come our of
-y own itt",
is hdrcd l. nr mc. rl," \^u'h , r.rn.'1. nJ n\ -\ i,,q..I r r.I n,. ,,)
voluned. ll h rr,rer ir nra\ bF, I I, ,\,. \auehr i, t,,o,,gt, Lr)
kateidoscopic dals nnd ve h et-and .tule r),n breasr€d ;igtjr,,,
and h my dark, illim'rable in Dy insatiatc illj,t
huge unrest, in my appatling 'na.lness,
and obscene fancies, in rrry
haunting an.t lonely menor;is (Ior rve are alt lonclv), ,,
mv gro,{.9'rF. il,ornin rb'" Jn I trpn/r ,l prndiq.tiric. It, \,
xl$a\s.!i..L,lo,,J
This l;rical moDologlre ou!.-or rhe cm(tle.eD.llcs;b,teat irrl,
.146.
e cloudbursts of adolescent emotion releasing deluges
lound uncontaminated 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
the long po1'!'edul line oI desrructive satires.
Ilut consider this.
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.
hg m)'eading
h.rJ \irh . lei.ur. Jr 1..,.r ,l,ree rouflh. imto,"nr
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
nct of violence o{Iered by a son toh; farher; the sudden
lization of a dangerously dislocared relationshipj sensi-
and flexuous syntax, uniquely appropriare ro the in-
uted 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.
.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 un-
vocally 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 f
of travel and exploration; but it does not, either in
€r or 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
. 149.
,]
 rEE DIS?ORTINA MlRROR THE DISTARTINC MINNOR
Bian('. rhu', Cuttiuct r TrudcL,. atthouSh ir is unquc_ are being ,dtten in oLrr gcnemlion. The besl ex-
lle
lronabl) a \jrirc and at,hough rhcre i. a sneer
in irr nan,r, ples which occur to me are the novels of the Marquis de
rs o\..no mean\ a pdrod\. tr i\ pr.jenLed
as a selou. rn,l c, and certaiu re{ent tales of brutality and dcgradarion,
v:ridr,a] nJlrdli\:. lr mr\ besr be ,omra,ed
prec€' ol reati.ri( hcrion \hi, h, tile
wirh ,s., clr as Nlirbeau s Torlrre Garden,Bo\,:Ies's ShelteringSAy,
Cuttiuer, were rvho y kner's Sdnct dry, ard the rvorks of Gen0r. These black
*: ln:il aurhor'J
': RobinJon
L,eloei
,eadins and imaS,narion: Ddni,t
C,x(o'", pubtished in r7 rC. aod
k6 lack nearly all the central purpose and underlying
lamr
t"- voyasp Round th( r/or1d, pubtilhed lhe in r7,i,
lism of satire, and although the nausea which they in-
couid easily be used by a satirist, their molal import
1.::,.-f"
JUt one yeac betore Swifr brouShr our Cultiv,,t,, T,a;?i:.
not sati cal. They are in fact the counterparts of such
is
- -What lhe diflcrcn,e
Wharrakes
berrleen rhe.e r\do ndrraftres? y saccharine romances as [,linor Glyn s Three Weeks
Crl/;r p/ a ,aririi dt srory. dnd lbe New toSagr Franccs I'lodgson Burfiett's Liltle Lord. Fauntleroy.
srraighrtorsard non.srri,iral fi,rion? lhe
ca,dinal Lesr i,
th-e efiec'_o]1.rhe rFader. The Ncra
,/qdgp, Iike orher dd Snlire can be mistaken for other forms of art and litera-
venlure srories. , an bi read \ irh inreresr
and exciremen( , nless its emotional and moral eflects are clearly de-
it,awatens felv other emotions. Bur it is impossible
for aD and undcrstood. Aestheric typer are not walled ofi
adult to read Gultiuer,s Tratek without ieeling,
mosl, polenl part ot bi\ experien.e,
as thc m one another by impenetmble ba11iers. At their ex-
a comple.c emorloD they diverge clearly and unmistakabty; but they
rvhth r5 compounded ol amu\ement. (onlempt,
di\qu,r, ug from roots r,;hich lie near ro one another in the
and rho"e eflici'ii genera y ]lepr ivc"3fi
L11 l:'*4., d,.. lman soul; and, through much of their development,
srory whn h
':i*ll:1.
rn rs emolon 'u,..sruiry
^ is a rur r esslul
pioau, ci una .i,,,,in, Cy gror/ closely together, so that only rh€ boldesl and
saririr narrarire. A sror) r\hr.l, t determined representative oI each type appea$ to
merely amuses us or thrills us, with no
aftertasre of derisiv{l De that particular type, while odrers k€ep crossing
bittern€ss, is a comedy, or a tale of adventure, or a romancr,
or. ro use the \ague\r rermi a novel. Hdtred nrier. and ming inA powe,. dnd ,ompc,ing rvirh one
which is n,,r hcr, just as do people, and languages, and societies.
srmpty sho( led re\ ut5ion bur i\ based
on a moral judAmenr, in forms of literature arc particularly close kinsmen
together with a degree of amusem€na
which may"rang,i near neighbors of satire, and often excbange with it
i:j.ryh:*
b:ly*" a.sour grin rr rhe in,onsruiry or rr,, h costumes and idc.rs.
On one side of satire lies its grim grutr oid ancestor
ex_po\ure ot?n absurd fraud _ such d,e, in varying propuF
in the stone caves, still echoing the martial monorony
trons, rlre cller rr ol satire. When rhey
are absenr trorn .r thc aavaget skin drums roaring for the destruction of
prece ot h(ion, ir is nor satirical.
enemy tribe, still shrieking I'irh the furious passion oI
or a.play produres teerins.s or pure hd,ri.l
1 ',:?
_-1, revuhion,
and nirhour a rrare ol sornful amLrsemenr
lho witch'doctor denouncing a rival. This is Invjqtive.
ur ue parent on one side rvas anrhropoid, and on rhe other,
regreaful conr€mp_t, ir is noa a satire.
Ir is a negarive novcl, lUplne. Lurking near by is the smaller, l'eaker, but some-
an anir,romaflce. Such books ar:e as yet uncommon. thouolr llntes more dangerous mutant of Invecrive: a by,blow born
. 1SO.
' 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.
Out! outl I schout, apon that snowt that snevillis.
T.rle tellare, rcbellarc, inducllar yth the devillis,
Sptnk, sink with stlnk ad Tertara Temagorum.
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<oulJ bc (xrire: ar,l i
nearly every.arire rlrere are sonre clemcnr. ol Far.F I lrl
main d;lTerence is that these nvo beings are kind. Tlrr,1
may be silly; they may tickle the observer, or pinprick hirn
($'ithout drawing more than a drop of blood), or hit h;r'r
rvith a blown-up bladder, but they do not hnrt. Exccln
to the most solemn or sensitive of motals, they are i
offensive. Comedy alrvays wishes to evoke laughter, or t
least a smile of pure enjoyment. Farce does not care 1\'hirt
ir docc pro\ ide,l rha t er ct tbody rollapses into rrnreason irrg
meniment. Most of us ignore this sidc of art; some ol ui
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$'s. He likes people, nor in spit€ of their
liarities, bur because o[ rhem. I-Ie could not en.hrre
nodon that all lhe oddiries mighr disappear, and teave
World to routine and to him. Invective and lampoon
from above and from behind: one is rhe prosecuring
, the other dre assassin. Comedy and tarce look
and lron belor': one is the amused friend r4ro
his frieud's absurdiriesi rhe other is rhe servant who
his master but cannot keep frorn befooling and mim-
him. As for satire, th€ saririt al$,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 $'ifi
and ridden out of tor!'n on a rail. Sarire is the
equivalent of a bucket of tar and a sack of feattrers.
' 155.
 THE DISTORTING MlRROR
The purpose of invective and lampoon is to destroy rul
enemy. I he purpo'e ot comedy and lrrce jr ro , du'e l',rirt,
less undesfuctiv€ laughler at human rveaknesses and irt,
congruiries. The purpose oI satire is, through laught
and invective, to cure folly and to punish evil; but il lt
does not achieve this purpose, 1r is content to jeer at foll
and to expose evil to bitter contemp!,
The purpose of satire is one of its distinguishing markr,
Another is th€ shape which it takes. In narmtive ficli{)ll
and in drama this shape is highly important bur is crxy
to misunderstand. Nouadays it is oflen misinterprclr(l
not only by reade$, 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 d1ffer-
lypes 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
'q!iti! lq!19" pretends ro be true and re?l; l, r
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, $,lx I
'arirF\ in fi(r;on \\hrrlrer nrtati\e or ,lr.r
we speaL ol
matic) e shall mean only rhose books which are prt,.
dominantly satirical, not those which now and rtrer dn,lr
into satire but are mainly designed to presenr a riclr,r
and more balanced picture of life.
The central problem of satire is its ielation to realily,
Satirt itishes ao expos€ and criticize and shame bunriur
life, but it iret€nds to tell rhe \,\'hole rrurh and norbiru{
bu. the truth. In narrarive and drama it usuatty does tlrir
in one of trro ways: eittrer by showing an apparently factuirl
but really ludicrous and debased picrure of rhis rvorld; r,r
. 158.
TI]E DISTORTING MIRROR
howing a picture of another world, with which our
is contrasLed.
UT OI T}'!S I\IORLD
are therefore a large number oI satiric tales in
form of visits to strange lands and other worlds. The
Iamous in Engl;h is G llit?r r ?rdurh. This terrible
say', b1 irs riLlc rnd b) ;r' nlreme. whrr ir means
the journey of a guu, or a fool, through various aspects
uman life-in four badspells, to paratlel the lour
ls rvhich Dean S$'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 dis-
pd 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 (LiUi-
tesembling 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-
'159.
 7EE DISTARTINC MIRROR
based rcality. All reality was, for Swift, debased. 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.
THE DISTORTlN.; 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$o of the
, m,ddler lr- I ngli.l, nime' rcvcr.ed. Senoj
bor; his teacher b€ars the commonest of all, Thims;
lhe ruling goddess Ydgrun is the nin€teenth-century
juju NIrs. Grrndy. Butler's mind was agile, but it
arro\{', I personally can never laise up much enthu-
for a tale in rl,hich, after long sut{erirrgs and dan-
journeys into an unknorvn region, ttre explorer
finds another yictorian Britain wiih a ferv conven
turned upside-down. It is cleveriy told and there are
amusing qrirks in it. Yet, when r\,e think 1|hat
ul varieties of human society there are on the
of rhis globe, aDd ho$' fanastically and insiructively
difrer trom dear olJ Fng'ldrJ. \e ma) ,L.,rJ.r ,Lr,erl,Fr
woflr, B,'r1." ru, r,,' rl,c ,Ill,.r\(
'irnc '(d n,"Jn-
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$o LliIIerenr ,o, irl
l0. The superior group is the Artico]es, rvhose life is
y given up to artistic experience, painring, and carv
0nd composing music, and writing. They possess no
. 161,
I 1'H E DISTORTINC MTRROR
li money, and are suppoted by the rich Beos (short lot
Boeotians, i.e. duJlards), who carry our all the non-arlisll
work of the country. The chief-problen in the lives ot llt{
Arricoles is tl)at their existence is too comforhble and lo0
tirniied to provid€ them rvith much marerial for art.'Ihh
particularly perplexes the wite$. 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
i of Etdorado. The most farnous of all such voyigcs It
i 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 weak-
and 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 con-
the 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 dump-
oI 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 be-
its 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
Poor beggarly Stoic was now a rich gentleman with
afld women, while Cyrus the conqueror cadged far-
from 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,
I ,pidtual 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-
,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 $'as finally handed as a slave to his crazy prede.rr
sor CaJigula. Such is Seneca's satire, |he Apocoloqnto\i! tt
It is so cruel and mean and personal, the lpocolocyntotit,
rhar ir would be a lampoon. it ir did nol contain a <eri"rrr
.166.
,f EE DISTO RT 1N C MIRROR
judgment. It is basically a farcical desciption of
ius trying to reach heaven and being sent to hell;
y all of it is funny; it is full of jokes, puns, parodies,
, and epigmms; but it contains a serious waming
udius's successot Ner:o himself, in rhe form ofa speech
ugustus, th€ founder of th€ Empire. (Nero did not
the warning, and ended more m;erablv. even more
sly, ihan Claudius.) Because Seneca was a clever
and a skillful teacher, it is a britliant and insrructive
. Because he was a moral rveakling, it is a disgusting
of brutality and flaftery. Bur it is an important his-
document. It is the first exLanr book to say openly
the Roman emperors lv€re human, and less tha[
, and far from godlike-and rhereby to impugn the
Ie system of monarchy founded by Julius Caesar.
's vision of the shambling stammering Emperor try-
Vainly to get into heavcn prepares lor the skrn refusal
e Christians to sacrifice ro the false god on the imperial
afte !'ard, in A.D. q6r, vhen lhe Chdstians were
y conquedng rhe Empire, al1orher sarire on the same
was composed. In a vision of heaven called Tfte
ng.Part\-also inspired by Menippus and atso wrir-
for the Satumatia-the last pagan Emperor, Jutirn
Apostate, describ€d his imperial predecesso$ 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 "Who-
ever 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 Cer-
vantes, 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 dis-
guised vices of this rvorld, laid bare as at Lhe last judgment,
scorched $,ith frery hlrmor and cauterized ith acid \'\'it.
The style is hard, brisk, often brutal, olten too coarse to
suit the tender sensibilities of quev€do's contemporaries.
The mosr peculiar feature of his ,/irionr is one ('hich reculs
in Rabelais' undenvorld chapter and inother such fantasies
oI this kind. It is that, althougl he is dealing with an
essentially Christian theme-the judgm€nt of God between
good and evil, the r€velation of all tha! in this rvorld was
hidden, and the penalties of the condemned he does not
mention the Chrislian deity. The divinity l'ho presides
over dre last judgment is called Jupiter and shorvn as naked,
"clothed in himself.'!? Q evedo does mention angels and
6ends, the Ten Commandments, the aposdes and the sainrs,
. .169.
168.
THE DISTORTING MIRROR
and certain institutions of the church (for instance, the
monastic oders); and he makes great play with the Accuser,
th€ devil himself. But, as God is not introduced, so Jesus
is not mentioned as rhe Saviour and Redeemer oI mankind.
In the same way as iL is difficult for a devou. Christian
to wlite a tragedy, so it is almost impossible for a devout
Christian to compose a Christian satire dealing 'r{ith death
and the judgment and the n€xt world. Therefore both
Quevedo and Rabelais transfer the theme oI judgment and
punishment back beyond Christianiry to fte milieu in
which ir first erLered Western thought: the ancient Greek
iral belie[s.alled Orplrism, uhirlr arc be\r known ro
us from the eschatological visions of Plato; and they both
paint those visions rvith the vivid satirical colors of the
Cynic Menippus. quevedo's book of f/irionr begins rvith
an explicit allusion to Dante's Comedy, and the largest
of rhem is a sort of parody of Dante's HeJl; but evefl there
we meer something hich only a very unorthodox Chris-
tian ould have even dreamed of rvriting. In the plac€ of
punishment, Qucvcdo sees Judas Iscariot. Dante, seeing
Judas, did nor speak to him and could not.1€ But Quevedo
speal$ 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
 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 InteLLigent Lile on Earth?
(Soon after landing,
they visir the ner{ Cuggenheim N{useum of Modem Art
in New York, lvhich interestr and alarms them. Its sLruc'
ture reminds them of the planel Kokeye, and they specu-
late, "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 irregu-
lar, and so absurdly shaped. Everything is chaotic. Look at
th$e little streams, not one going straight; th€se pools,
neither round nor square nor oval, nor symmet cal in any
l'ay; all these little pointed dots lhe meant hat we call
mountains]. And see how flat this sphere is at the poles, and
hoiy awklvardly it turns round.the sun, so that the polar
areas must be deserts. I think there is no life on earth, be,
cause I don't believe any inlellig€nt people would ever
consent to make their home here,",o However, Micromegas
happened ro drop the diamond necklace he tvas l'readng.
The Saturnian picked up one of the diamonds and found
fiat it magnified like a lens. Wi& ils help.he two visitors
salv a living organism in the water-which proved to be a
whale-and then something a little bigger, a ship fLrll of
scientists just back from exploring the Arctic Cilcle. What
amused Micromegas most was to see these misemble micro,
scopic animalcuiae talking and movilg and engaging in
corporat€ enterp ses, just as though they were real.
' 170.
TIIE DISTORTING MIRP.OR
Aflother variant of the sariric nanative is lhe voyage
into dre future. Mosr such visions are naively optimistic,
such as EdUard Bellarl.'y's l-oohing Bachudrd.2ooo.r897
(r8BB), or grirnly pessimistic, such as H. c. Wells's ?ia?.e
Machine OBg ajJd When the Steeper Wahes OAsq, rc-
vised and reis\ued in rqo6 a. flr \tp.pct Auah?,/.1hese
ir is dimculr ro der ribn r, *rirer..in.F LhFy usua y irou\e
neither laughter nor. contempt nor disgust, but nerely
wonder or hor:ror. Yer rhere are some episodes of satire in
Ior insLance, rhe awakened Sleeper
a few oI these fantasies.
finds that newspape$ have been reptaced by loud+peakirs
which \oeam oll sen,arional news Lile rhis:
"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
(ar leastin English) isrGtorge Onvellt Nin9.!9,c., 4;ehty- "
Four_Published in 1949, it sounded grim enough rhen.
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 $,as narura y
christened alrer Churchill.) By rq84, rhe world has been
divided into three superstaFs, Oceania, Eurasia, and [ast-
asia. Brird;n_lr.rs be,omF d pro,in,e ot O,erni? ralled Air.
ltrip One.'l he rhree powcrc dre permanenrl) dr war. al-
though somerimes, to gain an advanragc, one will make
a temporary "alliance" or even "peace" .lvith anoLher.
Oceania is governed by a single roralitarian party. parrly
through the injuries of lvar, and partty because of the
enormous l.,rasre of enegy and marerial which the party
encourages in order ao keep its porver, Brirain has become
an impoverished, grim, and hopetess lnnd, ruled by an
. 171.
 AEE DI SIO F.'I IN G MIRROR
jarchy more exclusive, more ruthless, and oniy tech
oLgically more emcient than medieval feudalism win-
s[on SmiLh att€mpts, although he is dmember of the "Outer
Party," to assert his intellectual and emotional independ-
enc€, He is lvaLched, and arrested, and tortured undl (like
the victim of Koestler's DarA??d$ 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 New-
speak. 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 Fort-
s and the occasional rocket bomb. Since his tim€ air-
ips have become-because of technological advances-
lmost 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.ii-
ted, 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, un-
ppily, 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 mod-
ern voyage into a peaceful future world is a satire so biil-
liant and so bitter that it is almost the GrUirrr of our rimc-
In 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 educa-
tion 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 extmva-
gar'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 loud-
speakers. 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 regions,
ty thousand leagues under the sea, out inro the in-
ivable 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 Mun-
seem 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 en-
oyed 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, ho ever, in the same spiril
as w€ listen 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
It oI bitterness; it makes r
leaves scarc€ly any afterlasLe
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
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
?r 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 con-
ting 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,
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 exchang-
ideas 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 ani-
ls. 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. A1-
gh, like the proverb which rhey embody, rhey may be-
part 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 $'as thar, i{ he
.177.
 THE DISTORTINC MlRROR
carried too large a crumb on his head, he would walk
sideways.
Ho cver, a ferv of the huge collecdon of animal fables
are sharp enough and sour enough to be defined as satires;
and lrom the Middle Ages we have one of lhe gr€ar sarires
of the l\'orld, in the form of a biography of one of rhe
cleverest of all animals, Reyrard the lox..'This is vcry
. neally a satiric epic. II the eighleerrh,cenrury critics had
not been so shorrsightedly devoEd to Lhe Greek and
Roman classics, they should have cited rhis, ir discussions
of the conneciior bet('een cpic andsatire, epic and comedy,
mther drar rhe virtually non-exisLenr ,\tdrgit€r. It mirrors
the Uorld of rhe N{iddle Ag€s, taur, nallow, pymmidat,
authoritarian, and unintelligenr. On top sirs His Majesty
King Noble the L,ion. Next come his barons, Bruin the
Bear, Iscngrim the Wolf, Tybert rhe Cat; and then one
of his most eneBetic and producrive subjects, Chanricle€r
the Cock. Over against lhem all sands Reynard rhe Fox.
They are society; he is anti social. They are rich and po$,er-
ful; 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:
Reynard rhe [ox honored b] King Lion
Ev€r since I l'as born,
I've felt biller scorn
l'or wortlry respectablc p€opte;
. 178.
 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, ill-
proportioned 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 re-
captured 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 TEE DISTORIINE MlRROR
and sometimes like a man, enrolling in the uliversity o[
0even books of elegiac couplets telling how the I'olf
Paris and aspiring to become a bishop or a cardinal.
,c, the monk) was deceived by the fox. Irs arthor, Nivard
Burnellus is so asinine that, afler seven years in Paris, hc
Ghent, who rvrote abour A.D. tt5o, was a comPetent
can only say Hee-haw, and cannot rcmember the name o[
sophisticared satirist."'
the city becftuse a traveling companion confused him by
Surely the strangest of aU the satirical books about ani'
saying a PAtemosLer; but he utrers long and superficially
ls is the Metamorphordr of the North Alrican sophist
intelligent monologltes, criticizing wicked greedy mon-
uleius, written, in eleven books of astoundingly com-
archs and lewd hireling bishops, comparing the merirs of
and versalile Latin prose, about A.D. r8o."s The hero,
.he various religioris orders and inventing a new one o[
begins as a nalvely intelligent and romantically sen-
his own. Nigel wrecks rhe corrinuiry of the story, aheady
al young Greek and ends as Apuleius himself, visits
distorted to admit these improbable homilies, by squeczing
hessaly, traditionally a greaa center of magical pmctices,
in other animal fables and allegorical rales; and he finishes
adventurous modern investigators visit Haiti to study
rvith a dispuae bet$'€en the donkey's owner and a rich man
. He ties to change himself into a bird, but uses
of Cremona, neither of $'hom has entered the story before.
wrong fonnula and becomes a donkey. His mistress
Ia would, perhaps, be too flattering ro suggesr that Nigel
accomplice kno s the cure: if he €ats fresh roses, he
wished to make his story resembl€ its hero, and end wirh
I become a man again. Before she can bring him the
an amputated tail; but perhaps he did divine rhe o ginal
he is stolen by robbers, who load him with plunder
meaning of sarire, a horch-pokh, and tried to rvrite a srory
drive him ro rheir r are. Thenceforward. fulJy human
full of the heterogeneous and the unpredichble.
mind and emotions, but in voice and appeamnce an
The FooLs' Mirror is only one of a group of medieval
ass, he passes through increasingly dangerous and
Latin poems abour animals rvhich are mainly sariric in in-
ling adventures, painful even for an animal, almost
lention. The earliest is ?ie Prironer's Exit (Ecbasis Cap,
durable for a man-until, the night before being
th)i, a tuthet affected title half creek and hall Larin),
pelled to make a public exhibition of his sexual
rvrirten by a monk of Loraine about A.D. q4o. It tells how
s rvi'lr a \omrn , riminal \ho. after rhi' degrada-
a calf escaped lrom its srall and was almosL eaaen by ahe
is to join him in dearh, he escapes frorn prison, runs
rvolf: the moral for young monks is "Fret not ar your the s€a-shore, plunges into th€ pu lying $,aves, and
cloistcr's narrorv room." Its author was a good Latinist,
a vision ol the goddess, the molher of all nature. She
widely read. He must have known Florace prefty well by pities him. In a speech filled with intense beauLy
heart, for he took over one,fiflh of his lines from Horace.
transcendental nobility, she exPounds her love and
(See how satirical material is handed on, The fable of lhc
power, welcomcs him as a devoree, and tells him that
sick lion ho could not penuade the fox to visit him morning, instead of being humiliated and slain, he
inside his cave, told by Aesop, rerold by Lucilius, and lreslr ro.es in tlre harrd ut orrr'ol her prie.t'. So
lll find
summarized by Horace, is here expanded and told oncc
becomes human again: but nor dre silly youth he was.
more, th; time by the rvolf.) One of fie best and most becomes a tmnquil, humble, self denying, sell-forget-
popular of all is ysengrim, a satire againsr monasticism serious, happy man.
.180. .181.
 TI]E DISTORTlNC MIRROR
This extraordinary story is, firsr and foremosr, a tale of
grorvth and education through suflering-r'hat rhe Ger,
mans call, in an untranslatable wold' a Bildungsroman.
Lucius moves Irom sensuality through besriality to puriryi
from silliness ahrough asininity to wisdom; from irrespon-
sible vagabondag€ tlrrough slavery and fioggings to the life
of a pious pilgrim; from black magic through cdmes and
orgies to a higher religion. (Apuleius himsell was seriously
accused during his lifetime of pracricing magic, and gen-
emtions later was srill believed by some oI his fellow-
Africans to have been a \'\'izard.),3 Since it describes this
process through a narative which is grotesque and im-
possible, often grossly comical and often disgusring, it is a
satire. Some, rbough by no means all, of rhe advenr[res
etperien,ed by rhe hero or told in lris hejring. are sariri.
in purpo.e rnd in rone. Ihechietdiffirulriesinappraising
the book are, 6$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 transforma-
tions credible by describing them i'irh eloquent imagina-
tive 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 $hy, a tale of ideally happy marriage attained
.182.
TEE DISTORTING M'RROR
hideous ordeals, it is told to a ter lied maiden by
a drunken hag in a banditi cave.
There have becn many satires l'hich, llke ReJnad, Ye'
tended to be about animals, l{'hile they were really about
'people. The {o*rll\nhq14s of the frnal llnQk of Gu\iqet
are cerllidy-Qo! horses. Ho$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 intelli-
lent 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,
. 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 at-
lempt 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 Brit-
tany. 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
$'e recall that most penguins are monogamous, and that in
their society sexual deviations are virtually unknorvn. How
ever, Anatole France chose penguins because he shared
the conviction of many French inrellecruals that their
fellorv-citizens are (although of course superior to orher
Europeans) fundamentally betus. ln case, he virtually
dropped the idea one quarter through ^ny
his sarire, aparr
from a ferv comic names like Greatauk and Porpoisia.sl
Then he transfomred the book into a distorted burlesque
oI French history, passing over the Renaissance and th€
age of Louis XIV in a Iew rapid pages,6ut devoting an
entire book to a satirical ve$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 prcle-
tarjat under rhc guidance ot the Communisr parry-
eventually 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 de-
ion 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 disappoinr-
r, 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 Com-
unist 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 {arm-
congregation about Sugar;andy Mountain in the sky,
still more at the end, when we observe the pigs drink-
lng 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 immedi-
ly 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
"At1 !{. rrlsrlrrdm by toy xi
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.
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
wasps who talk human language. 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 col-
laboradon 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 court-
ship 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
. 187.
 THE DISTORTINC ]I1I R RO R
when Lugene lone,,co produced flr Rlinorrror, rvhore
rheme ua!ihar ihinumin popL,t,';on ol iiiiiir-iir?-rou n
rvith one solitary exception $'as transformed into roaring,
rampaging, thick'skinned, happily brutal rhinoc€roses, he
was challenging one of the central problems of dmmatic
satire. In spile of a rveak and farcical first acr and a dis-
appointing conclusion, h€ solved it in one big scene. To
see the quiet undemonstrative hero on the stag€, con-
fronring one oI his friends rvho visibly swells out and alters
his shape and changes his nature until he is one of the herd
\yhose bellorvs and tmmplings can be heard ofi stage, him,
sell €very moment less human than pachydermarous, this
is to appreciate not only the experience of saaire, but the
amused and tormented emotions of the satirist, Ionesco
himsell has variously described his play as being a cririque
of Nazification (vtrich he conceives as a pewersion of
intellectualism), of totaliarian government, and of col-
lective hysteria. It is all thai, and more. As he puts it,
"Orce ideologies become idolalries, . . .hey dehumanize
The Rhinoceros slro\'ted men becoming animals. One of
dle bitterest satirical piays eler: \\rritren shows men rvho
rctain their hlrman shape, but in spirit are so close to being
b€asts thar they bear the names and folloN the behavior-
patterns of cruel and Lreacherous animals. The hero of Ben
J?n:9n-: I/o_Ipone (16{)?) is l.rell named l'ox. His pansitic
attendant is Mosca, a fly; \rhile his legacy-hunring false
friends are greedy rapto$:
V lr urc, li e,
Raven aDd gorcrolv, all [rhe] birds of prey
Tha, rl,ink |l,iml rurrring ,.rr.,+.
In a satiric story, no. all rhe human beings need be dis-
guised as animals.,{ defr satirist can produce the right
effect by introducing only one animal, aDd sholving it as
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.)
Its patron has bought ia a baronetcy, and inrends to have
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 language-
Emily. 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, laugh-
ingly. 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 dis-
tppointment 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 dis-
passionate 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 .un-
ished at his death in r88o) lold the story of two middle-
dged 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 contrari-
n€ss of human beings an.l the idiotic inconsistencies of
authors. ln an nnprobable scene which may be an un-
funny 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 $orld and take uP their old rrade of
copying. Copying rvhat? A dictionary of human stuPidities
Flauberr had atready compiled tts lrasis' a Dictionary of
A\cepted lderd-which reminds us of S\rifL's CompLete
Cotlect;on al Gente€l and Ingeniour Contersation B.ut
' there is an important difference Bofi Swift and Flaubert
were convinced that the mass of men l\'ere "as well quali-
fied for flying as fforl thinking";"" both rvere moved to
. 191.
 TEE DISTORTING MIRROR
nausca by the spectacle of human follyi bur S$,ifr re.ained,
even in his grimmest moods, a sense of humor, 1\'hilc
Flaubet bored both himself by his search rhrc gh rhird-
class books for examples of third-ctass rhinking, and his
reade$ by the banality of his examples. There is some-
thing comic in even the silliest exchanges in Swift's Coz-
Mi$. Well, comparisons are odiousj but she's as like h€r
husband as if she were spit out oI his mourh; as like as
one egg is to another. Pray, how w_as she dressed?
Lad, Snart. Why, she was as fine as fr'penc€; but truly
I thoughtthere was more cost dran worship.
Lad, Ansuemll. I don'r knorv her husband. Pray, what
is he?
Ladl Snart. W}.y, he' s a concealer of rhe la!v; you must
knolv, he came to us as drunk as David's sow.,o
But mosr of FlauberCs Dictionary is m€rely flat.
cnoconrrr. Attracts people by imiraring the cry oIa child.
DIAlro^"D. One of these days lhey'll make synrhetic onesl
And just think, ir's only carbonl
cur-F'srREAM. Celebrated town in Nor$,ay, recently
discovered.
yAwNrNc. Always say, "Excuse me, it isn't boredom, it's
my stomach."
wALTz. DenoDn.e r'r
Page after page of the novel is an a d wasre o{ sentences
such as this: "^tbe Catechim ol Perset)erance, by caume,
had disgr$led Bouvard so in.ensely fiat he took up the
volume of Louis He1'vieu." The loral €fiecr resembles those
collections of cigar:ette-stubs, roln bus tickers, hair-comb,
ines, Irugmenis of dirty newspaper, and broken bordes,
rvhich the padaists used b frame and exhibit zs collagcs;
and som€times the patient readet, as he rvatches rhe nov€l.
ist laboriously sieving out a huge inrellecrual rubbish-
' 192.
T E DISTORTIN G 141RROR
dump, rvonders rvhether FlauberL himseu in this Prcjecr
was not unconsciously providing a Prime exanPle of hu-
rman stupidity. The satirist should enjoy his subject, hol-
€v€r Sruesome it may be; ho$'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." ("Novel-
ette" in England is a non_U word, meaning "cheap ro-
mance." 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 $'hich tre does not belong, "de'bag" him, or
take his lrcusers off. He is then exPelled "for indecent be_
havior," 'ith tris career ruined. He gets a job as a school-
mascer. in an inferior private school in Wales, wiLh an
aristocratic English clicntele and a slafi comPosed of
eccentrics and criminals. At the schoot sports, a chic and
beautilul lady called M$. 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 $pecihc and Senerally disaPProved tyPe of
€nteftaining. Paul spends some tine in prison, is smuggled
. 193.
 THE DISTORTINE MIRROR TIIE DISTORTIN G M]RROR
t unaler a fake deaLh certifrcate, and returns to Oxford
continue studying for the church
The main point of this is ihe double'edged satire that
e good are dull and stupid, and that fie beautiful and
.1r" .otr,rp, anal ruthl€ss: the world is nor governed
moral principles, or even by ordedy reason, bxt by
arrd the potuet the absurd But along its blades
"f
e are many diamond_sharP facets: jokes against move'
ts and personalities, some of which are still alive and
inent, while others have receded' since 1928, inco
itorv. There is, Ior instance, a progressive German archi'
who hates people anal loves machinesr his nam€ is
tto Fri€drich Silenus, and he wilt remind some peoPl€
watter Gropius. There is an intensely cultivated Negro
med Sebastian Cholmondeley ("Chokey" for short) who
s a fine singing voice and declares "My race is a very
iritual one": Mr. Waugh may have been thinking of
Robeson. Almost every detail in the book could no
ubt be paralleled from some real Pe$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." social snobbery rvere explored ina series of brillianr tales
by Aldous Huxley. This type of satire was probably initi
lvtlln Wansht
ated in English by Thomas Love Peacock. Although ihere
are occasional patches of luminescence in Peacock's novels,
. 194. . 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 recog-
niTe 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, $,as irfact
the c tic Middleton Murry, drawn so halshly rhar his
enemies rejoiced and he himself was deeply wounded.
(Like Byron on reading Southey's gibe at his hot remper,
he thoughr of challenging Huxley to a duel. We must
regret that he abandoned rhe idea, for it I,ould have pro-
duced one of lhe funniest scen€s in a]l literary hisrory.)
Recently the American saririst Mary MccartLy wrote a
novel called The Groltes of Academe. Her subject was a
girls' college headed by a "liberal', president, and she
played tvith it as afiectionately as a cat with a ne ly caughr
mouse. Not lorg afrem'ards rhe poet Randal
Jarrell pro_
duced a novel called Picrrrar lrom an Institution. ihis
also portmyed a girls' college l^,irh an eccentric sraff and
a boyish presid€nt, bur one of its chief comic characrers
was a \'!'oman novelist rvirh a feline smile and a cool un-
chadtable eye: a figure apparently stron& but harboring
humiliating weaknesses of its own.
Most dramatic satires are of this type: caricatures of
contemporary life. Yet the frontier ber'$'een comedv and
sarire on thF srrge i! a thin and rva\cring line. Ir ir easv
enough rn
'e.ognize
a rrue .arire like parirnrr, bur many
. 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 Mal-
io in Tueuth Nig,ir-is drar'/n in hanher lines, be-
fooled, 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
uDon thc lools $lro beliele bim
To produce rhe lull eflecr o[ salire on lhe 'rrage exa8-
serali;n i\ usually nceded. ls ir po"ible ro imrgine the
iirst Lord ol rhe Admiralrv e\plrining Io rhe ' re\a ol on.
of Her Majesty's ships tbac he reachcd his posiLion by stick-
ing to his desk anal lrever Eoing to sea? or to conceive a
naval captain Placed under arrest for saying "Damme" to
one of his men? No; but Disraeli Save the Admiralty post
to a publisher who tne$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'ell-
known 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
flea's jump. Critics ofAristophanes say that the real Socmtes
paid liltle attention to astronomy and biolog) but concen-
trated 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 $,ith anyone
and everyone. But Aristophanes is rvriring satire. Satire,
which pretends to be true, is usually a disrortion. Long
after the gay dramatic satires of Aristophanes had left the
slage, they rvere succeeded by the melancholy romantic
comedies of Menander. An admiring cdtic exclaimed,
"Menanderl Lifel Which of you copied the other?" This is
not rvhat anyone-except perhaps a mod€in philologist-
rrould cry after seeing a play by Aristophanes. Satire is
often Iunny. but a eomedy is not a \arire.
Another group of satires on contemporary life contains
those stories which involv€ travel and advenrure. The
extravagant pictures of society such as Peacock's novels,
alrhough lhe) .onrain alirums and cvrur,ions. are e"sen
tially static. These satires move, and their heroes see a
great deal of lhe rvorld. Somelimes the hero is a passive
obser\er, enduring and. in (ilcn,e. criri, izing: somerimes
he is a sort of knighr erranr, \. ho ir r uprs in ro \ayiolrr groop,
ited an otherrvise unknown baroque Latin poet, is invited
and ups€ts both th€m and himself.
Not every fictional tale of rrai'el is a satire. Some are
perfectly serious; some are purely l,Lrmorous: som€ are
ialia, the country of his birth. He is plunged into the
bsurd intrigues of modern totalitarian politics, slvept arvay
boldly romantic. And, because many authors are nor clear
in their minds about the distincrion bet$,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, some-
mes 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 trans-
artend a celebration of the poeCs tercentenary in Neu-
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 other-
fairly 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€ Ausro-
Hunga 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 Mar-
gites. 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
was killed or ortraged in a guerrilla action of the terriblc
Thirty Years'wari 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

.24O.
The tmage of Sarirc
Ilonrispir.e from1669 .diiior df CrinnnekhauseD s
Simf li.iss itu1L\ T e I tt. h
 T 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 ad-
venture. 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 there-
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 Brundi-
sium. 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 politi-
cal 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 Augus-
tus) 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 Brun-
disium 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 chess-
match. 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 ad-
visers? 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 pub-
tlishing 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 prede-
cessor 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 in-
deed 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 There-
fore, 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 Carh-
erine's Russia and by the more civil sensualities of Re-
gency 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 ideal-
islic 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 sea-
chang;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 cus-
toms 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 inter-
esting 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 char-
acters 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. There-
after 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 under-
lying 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
oI 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.
Secondly, satiric tales are ofren improbable, and do nor
obiat to Leing impo"sible. Ttreir aurho)s 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,
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 Gulli-
s 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 $'recked
'his enterprise long before ir matured-or so we say lo our_
lelves, and then lte remember the fake specialisb r{'ho Pro-
liferate like cancer cetls both in country comrnunities and
in large cities; and we f€el the impact of satire Of all the
:lmprobabilities rvith rvhich satire deals, the mott Platrsible
'End the closest to real life is the faaud, the hoax, the s$'indle'
 TEE DISTORTING MlRROR
TEE DISTORT IN G MIRROR
It is easyfor scienrisrs to tesa rhe limirations of human
jokes on pr€tty girls and well'dress€d men, and can
cndunnce under conditions of acute srrain; but th€ height
aDd depth and breadrh and absorbent polve. of t'gesture a symbolist, our-jargon a psychologist, out-lan'
human a semanticist-he personifies the mischievous, de-
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,". tive force of satire, evil in itseu, and only potentially
when attached to a good prince or a good principle.
Ousr belorc h,ri'ing rt,i\ para3raph I redd rhe biogrlphy
a Roman gen€ml oI the republic *'on a great vic-
o[ a man {.tro rea y sotd rjre Eiflel -foher ro /r.,o differenL
scrap-meal merchanrs. He posed as an agent of the , he Nas privileged to Eo, in a procession called a tri
FreDch ph, to make a sacrifice oI thanks to the supreme god. FIe
gov€rnmentj whieh as usual needed money; and
he tol.I a coslume of unique grandeur. His family and Friends
them ir must be kept confidential.)
To mo(( and expo,e rhe gultiLiliry ot mankrnd is one follo{\cd hi, , harior a, ir morLd rhrouglr rhe shoullnB
ot ts. The victories he had won uere shown in pageants
rhe,,hi(f funirions ot pdnurge, rhe rterer unprinciptcd
orved by his captives and his rejoicing army. For a time,
rascal who is rhe associate and friend of prin.e
'l hey mJke d ,rr,,n8e,oupte. rhe gooJ priore turrrugiuet. was raised high above ordinary humanity. But behind
(ouflie,: rhey do nor (losclv curresponJ rvirh rh; brd
dnd m marched his troops, often singing songs of edged deri-
llre orlrer andcheeful satire: his physical weaknesses, his badhab'
master-and-servant pairs who are norable in sarire
an.l hisequivocalreputation,allresoundedamongandsome-
romedy: Dionysusrnd Xanrhias, Don
eLr;xore.rnd Srn.ho, above the shouts of applause. And (according to some
uon Jrun and Lepore o. fhcy rre r toser ro prince jl.rl
and Falstafl, but the difference berween rhe ftvo pairs thodties) a slave stood behind rhe triumphator in his
is ot, holding above his head a golden crorvn, but say-
srill great. Pantagruel, who is a wise, benevolent, and
cul- g in his ea1 "Remember, you are human." Wichin the
tured monarch, does not rreat panurge (rvhose name
means of Pantagruel, so free and gay and powerful and
Cle\er S.oundretr as an amusing companiorr met tor
an sible, Panuqe plays the part of that slave and sings
hour rnd lhen lorgor(en. He takes him inlo his serri,r,
and spends_much time talking lvith him. panurge.an mocking song. Three hundred years later he appears
sense be called an adviser or a minister of his
tr, ,,o Goethe's F rrl, lvhere he is one of the two principal
he is
."r.. lile.a-roun root, ha\ing, inrreadfrince:
ot
ractels: Mephistopheles, the spirit uho says always
lr:h
ba( I. or a d\\ ar fish body, an inconigiLty nd ugtr ry
a hump o." Satire is not positive, but negative.
mind. yir And yet, like Mephistopheles, a higher por'€r may deter-
ir is irnpos'iblc ro e\, ise Panurge trom RaLrtdi_ wundFr
stor:y. He represents one oI the essential €lements
Lul that it alitays aims at €vil and always does good.
in satire,
ds P2n'Jg'u(l relrre\enr) anolhcr.lsThe prinrcty
gianr rvtro The exploiti of Panurge rypify another feature of satiric
sna orvs dn entrre eroup ot pilgrims b) a., itlcnt, and re.
arrange! long,rdnding di.pures Ly supert,uman ives. This is that they are usually shocking. Their
otlrengrh and,widom {and or i rrionaJt) ot ridicuier, Sesrur(. toes are bealen, soused in fiIfi, threatened wirh insrant
per- tion. Their heroines are raped, enslaved, eaten by
sonrhes sntrrj.at \.orn lor rhe 5mall. and rhe nr(dn,
and rhc bals. In ways equally outrageous, the satiric hero
prejudiced, and rhe conventional. The crook rvho
plays imes abuscs and humiliates the rest of mankind- FIe
'210. .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 com-
ments 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 im-
piously 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 $'orld, and the kingdom of heaven, rvere at hand.
near approach of this wonderful event had been
dicted by the aposrles; the tradition of it was pre-
erved by their earliest disciples, and ihose who under-
tood in their literal sense rhe discou$es of Christ him-
elf 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 Omnip-
e, not to rheir reason, but to th€ir senses? During
age of Chrisr, of his apostles, and of their first dis-
Lhe 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 spec-
tacle, 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
as coldly as
hopeless schizophreDic, traces 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
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<r
Nightingale opens sympathetically, does justice to .hat re-
markable lady's achievements, and closes rvith a quainr bur
.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 sav-
and 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 indigna-
ion $,hich Suachey's friend Clive Bell says lvas his main
ive."'We are intended simply to smile a scorrful smile,
nd to tuln a(at from the Victorians with disgust.
I Several oI stmchey's biographical studies are stbtle
ire. '1 here a,e lar less dcli,rrely rrritrn bio3raphie:
i.h are neverrheless satiical in their effect. These are
s of eminent rogues, composed sometimes (frctionally)
ahemselves and sometimes by their Pretended admirers
hey arer.alled picaresque ttories. from rhe Sprni'h uo'd
a rogue, pi.aro. There must be thousands of them. Not
 7HE DISTORTING MIRROR
all, by any means, can be classed as sarire. In many of the
best oI them, rve are m€anr simply ro enjoy rhe higtr spirits
of the trickst€r, to be astonished ar the ingenuiry of his
stratagems, and to be excited by the trials and dangers
through which he chooses Lo pass. For insrance, rhere is a
delightful collection of stories by O. Henry called ?lrd
Gentle Gralter (r9o8) rvhich plays on atl .hes€ emotions,
but contains no snee$, 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 osten-
sibly 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 Field-
ing 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
.218.
THE DlSTORTINC MIRROR
after his death he became even more famous than dnr-
Lg his life. Ior various reasons he was admired as some-
like 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 al-
ys 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 render-
his 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 Wal-
, who 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 him-
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 brrt-
throu€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 every-
thing, 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 in-
edible; 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,
'satires.
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 pierc-
ing 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 black-
irds, &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
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 played-
t is all wrong: i! is a satire on vulgarity written lor a re-
fined 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 $'ho have read the whole oI
Trimalchio's banquet and taken it ao be absolutety typical
bf upper'class Roman manners in the frnt century. This
 TEE DISTORTINE MIRF.OR
is as though some foreign observer of American mores
rvere to describe Diamond Jim Brady who began dinner
with a qua{ oI orange juice and rhree dozen oysters and
gJ\F I'is nr;,rrc.s I ill;:rn Ru,re a qotdt,ta,cd b,, y, tc \irh
ieweled hulrcdp, a. a rypi,at Ameri,jn genrtcmJn. tr i\
hard to see ho!v any scholar could make rhis misrake, since
even the disrepurable herocs of petronius constantly jind
themselves amus€d but revolted, and finally run arvay from
Trimalchio's mansion in disgust."" Bur some philologists,
dirhouqlr sLill.d in rhc.ubrlerje. ot tanBuig.. ha\e iiUte
oPpotunity, and even apdtud€, for obs€rying rhe nuances
of social behavior; and rhis is the penalry of the satirisr_
he exaggerates and selects, but he prerends rc be relling
the trurh, and simple-minded readers take him titerally.
In modern rimes I believe it rvas the clever Iralian saairisr
Francesco Berni (ra97l8-r5j5) who, r,irh ironic descrip-
tions of dre lovely peacefrl time of the plague and ttie
beauties of the chamberpot, introducecl the technique ot
satiric phorography. He had many Itatian folto.(vers, notably
Cesare Caporali (lbgr-160r), wiro was admired and i,ni'-
tated by the G$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 es-
capes 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, al-
though \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
.222.
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
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.. .)"
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 sub-
stance anal inexPticable of Pr€sence-to clench itself
incessantly and agonizingly, it gave his face a melan-
choly 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 flre-
work 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
.223'
 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) $,ho, wirh ironic descrip-
tions of rhe lovely peaceful rime of rhe plague and rhe
beauties of the chamberyor, inrroduced rhe technique of
satiric photogmphy. He had many Italian foltowers, notably
Cesare Capomli (r5Sr-16()1), rvho rvas admired and imi,
taled by the fi$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, at-
though 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 "Oh, Nina, zr,4at d lot ol Parties."
I (. . . 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
humanity... Those vile bodies.. )ia
mass€d
Even one episode in a party can be made into satire;
even one moment, one aspect so apparently trivial as the
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 sub-
stance and inexPlicable of Presence-to clench itself
incessantly and agonizingly, it gave his face a melan-
choly refinement, and made women think him capable
of strfiering cteep panBs of love. But that of NL de Saint-
cand€, 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 THE DISTOIITING MIRRAR
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-
clenching his jarvs as though aftempting to orienr him-
selt, 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 (r lnrfs l.Gimi&,
rlom Branas sni? ot l.,,rJ, 1!91 ediihn relr)
and humiliated by a capricious vidow whom he loves, is
visited by her dead husband, r'ho has been released from
'224.
 THE DISTORTING MlRROR
puryatory to save Boccaccio from ril€ error he himself com-
mitted. 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 par-
ti, 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, Fiam-
Tratrd, 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
The same theme was raken up and made more concrere
and more grotesquely comic by Juvenal:
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
.296.
?HE DIS?OR?IIVG MIRROR
aith patent medications and widr hcaps ot soakin8
dough fr€sh from the oven, is that a ta€e, or an ulcerTrg
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 $ought of €xploring a lady's dressing'
Bur ohl ir turncd poor Srephon's bolt€ls,
When he beheld and lmelt the towels:
Beg!$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
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 $,as the
em. when Lady Mary wordey Moncagu, on being told
 T I] E D IS'IO RT INA MTRRAR
that Lcr hands were rndrer dirry, replied, "You should see
my feetl"
This kind of liremry satire is very close to sarire in the
visual arts, r'hich althoug-h it is a heavy inadequaLe
word-il g€nerally called caricature. In the Nliddie Ages,
not only preachers in the pulpit and Goliards in rhe ravern,
but sculptors in the carhedral produc€d satirical representa-
tions of vice and lolly personilied in hlrman (and even in
animal) form. Lustlul ladies and greedy merchanb and
proud prelates, .seen by critical eyes and carved lvittr loving
haded, still look down on us lrom the walls and columns
of many a Gothic carhedral. During the Renaissance rhe
greatest artisrs enjoyed crearing satire through picrurcs.
Leonardo dre$' 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, Louis-
Philjppe, 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

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 exas-
geration and distortion typical of satirei and besides, therc
.228,
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
 _---

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.
ic scene is 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
Ia loose gown irdecently open and a rag on her head.
Iegs and face are scarred, perhaps nith syphilitic
. lVith a smirking affectation of aristocratic non-
e, 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
.229,
 7' I1 E D I S? O RT IN G 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."' Hoga.th r Cin Ln ne

.230'
 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-tera-
lre have been given food names: ..farce" mean-s. .lllqfiing,,,
!!a:9-Jli9'l poegy was a crude fr "r ruri"name
"'J original ,"a
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€$,, or fish chowder,
minestrone, ot pae\a, or pot,aufeu, or garbure, or a
itterol rn ired i uld , utr rr irh pir |es and por o-s?lad and
couple ol slicc\ oi (heese, in fa\t a satuta. To be rr e,
Irefore, co id original derivation and first conceprior, a
ire musr be varied, it must be large enough ro till the
l, and it musr be coarse and hearty. Flighty stylized,
te. and \opl,isri,ated sdrires hive been \rirrcn. of
rse pardcularly in the field ot parody_The R&fe
ol
Zo.li is a lirrle masterpiece oI aristocratic satire: bur
!y are LrnrypicaL, almosr paradoxi(al.
The name has norhints ro do uirh tt,e Lrcek being\
 coNcLusroN
called satyrs, shaggy crearures parrly human and paflly
bestial, otten rudely Boatish in their behavior. They arr,
neler mentioned in connection wirh sarire by Romans (lt
by Greeks (except by one late cdtic, ard in some ve$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 $,hole rhhg, in order ro give che poor rrrr
cultivated Romans a sort of originaL primirive drama corrr
sponding to the eariy srages of Greek drama.3 But rtrr,
Italiins had a narive talent and liking for exacrly this hirxl
of shorv, improvised vcrse dialogue, competitions in crrrrrrr
CONCLUSIOM
Abuse and scurriliLy, mimicry: anct ir sounds extremely
likely that shows of this kinct did exist. perhaps they con-
tained liftle scenes oI chearing and thieving, comparabie
ln a smatl way to those which appeared laier in iegutar
comedy with Plautus. Almosr cer:tainly there were char_
lcter-slerches ol real personr or ot rype5. and joles abour
local peculiarjries-tor rhese rhjngs appear, highl) de_
veloped. in Nae\;us, rhe hrsL orie;nal Romdn (omir
dlamatist..
Therefore, when Ennius called his poems &itrrue, he
meant not only thar they rrere a mixed dish of simpte coare
lngredienrs, buL that they grerv out of an improvised jolli-
fication hich .$'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.
.233.
 aoNar,tlstoN
Horace is apparently translating <rrou6oyEloroq when ha
says he wants "to tell the truth, laughing": after saying so
he continues rvidr a serious, though lightly phrased, di$.
cussion of a social and ethical problem.d He has therefore
moved from lhe merhod of satire to its purpose, or one ol
its purposes, combined with one of its melhods. The saririst,
though he laughs, rells rhe trurh.
Many satirists repeat this. But often they declare rhat
their truth is what people do nor want to hear. Persius,
after saying that Lucilius spoke out boldly and Honce tact.
fully, goes on:
I mustn't whisper? in privare? into a hole? noahere?
Y.r here I li bury ir. Book, I m)'eif hivc seen ir:
everyone has a pair of ass's earsl This sccret,
this laugh of mine, this nothing, I will sell for no
Iliad.ll
Juvenal asserts that the trurh which is his subject,mat(rr
is so easy to see that he need only walk rhrough the srreeu
of Rome, or stand at a busy crossing wirh a notebook.s Bu[
for him truth is limited to the rdumph of \a'icledness. Inr.
mediately afrer stating da. all human life from the days ot
rhe Flood is' the fanago ot his book. he .r;es
And when was ther€ a cher crop oI vices?"
Soon afterward he adds that ro tell rhese trurhs, naming
names or even saying /'Thacs lhe man," is dangerous, an(l
rvill bring the satirist to a fearful death. He determircn
therefore to describe vice and crime, r,hich are permanenl,
endemic, in Rome, bur to use rhe names of scoundrel$
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 $ih a smile, so that he willll not repel them
cure them olthar ;gnorance which is r:treir worst fault.
is Horace The other type hates rrnost people, or
them. He believes rascality is triiumphant in his
; or he sa. wirh Sni{r, rhar Ihou8l l-r he toves indi-
he dete$ 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 funda-
tal facr ofhunan life, so lar as ir can be pur into words,
the hopeless ddeat of che best and nol'blest among Lrs:
.235.
 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,
.236.
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 ridicu-
or 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 hypo-
ic: 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 health-
ough far too many of us spoil our metabolism by stu-
and 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 rhunder-
ingfountain o{ boiling lava, searing all it touches and petri-
fying 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 hare-
poetry (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
life. Ior instance-
Thousands 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,
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
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 (Bitter-
bile), ending in a glorious victory for Gargantua command-
ing 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 in-
volved in the la$'suit; and the cities and fortresses of the
war are all tiny places near Rabelais' own home.'3 There-
fore crandgousier is Rabelais' father, Picrochole is the
rancorous neighbor, and Gargantua-
A noticeably large lrumbff of satirists have been im-
pelled by a rankling sense of personal inferiority, of social
injustice, of exclusion from a privileged group. Menippus
was a slave. Bion's faLher was a slave and he himself was
sold into slavery. Hor:ace's fath$ 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€ek-
speaking 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 gen-
eElize 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 cor-
r€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 posi-
tive 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€ car-
gantua, 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 constitu-
lion 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€m-
p€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 ABBREVIATIONS
chey are reborn, and still you arise to destroy them. Sathe
sufiereth not long, and is unkind. Satire envieth not, but TIII names ot periodicals and srandard works of
do$ not admire. Satire vaunteth not ibelf and is not reference are abbreviated according to the sysrem
pufted up, but God help lhose rvho vaunt thehselves. set ont hf tl\e Amer;can Jaulnal al Archaeolog it
1958r CP : Classi.al Philolagr, PL : Nligne,
Satire is easily provoked and thinketh much evil; rejoiceth
Patrclogie Lat;na, ,.nd so on.
no! in iniquity, but exulteth in its overthrc'lv; beareth Orl,er abl,r"\ iJrion. are rhp 1\"ll I no$ n jur ! j\or)
very lirtle, believeth very little, hopeth very little, en- ot Lalinr cf. : compare, init.
dureth only so that iL may overcom€. Hail to Satirc, the middle,6n.
- beginn;ng, med. :
cnd, ibid. : in Lhe same book or in
-
tenth Muse, whose face is nol, like those of hel sisters, the same passagc; c. means both chapter and circa
serene and symmetrical, but bears the wrinkles ofa grimace (about).
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.

.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,.. 7i-
6. 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 nc-
iedcl.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
Who 60 altempts co pi.kle it in tears,
Taking as rar materirl lor his la)s
lhr good old rn6li.h Leer he lorcs to pr,k.
To which all other exit he denies
s've iim"gh the whizzins hoscpipe oI his eles.
lThe Geary;ad, London, r 93,, p. !3.)
15. Ruskin, ,r'at'd Pentelici, Lectvc IU, lnaginalion,' para-
Sraph 85.
16. Voltaiie, Cdrdtd?, c. ro nn.
rt. Jurenal 3.,6,-16?.
ra. Trc;lut and Cresida 5.to.38 57.
19. SwiJt, Ptoposal lar Conecting the Englih Langragd, eds. Davis
and Landa (oxfotd, r95?), ,43.
.247.
 NATES ON QHAPTLR II
II. DIATRIBE
r. Hotuce, Sermones r.ro.4849. On tudis et Gmech iata.ti car-
nikh 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
B,
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$ius (r.rr5)
says Lu.ilius 'broke his jaw.tooth" on his victids.
E. EP. z.a.6o.
6. Mad in his edidon of Luciliu, (cited in n. !) conparer fras-
ment 836 with Aristophares, lyrrrr r84; but there Lu.ilius is really
parodln,g Ol)$el 9.966 36?, rhile Aristoph"nes is apparentll dock-
ing 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
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
not ncarly so many dnect quodtions and imirations of Old and
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$ake
all night weeping and singing serenade. Again, n h larjetched to
.248.
NO?ES ON CHAPTER II
say that one remark in Luciliu, ("God preseNe us from dirty lan'
CUrEF t,8 899) de1n. rha, I u ili"' him."lf h:ll "\"iJ oLwFnir)
in his !a!ires: Ior he cenainly do€s not do so, and the loDe ot the
remark sounds much more like one of his comi. characters-perhaps,
as Ma.x suggests, a shocLed lady.
ro. Hor. Se/n.2.5.rr r!.
rt. Hor. dP. s.r.Es-6o.
12. The metaphor by which wit is called s t is too common in
Gr€ek ald Lalin !o make it necesaiy for us to interpret the phrase
as ar allusion to the fact tlat Biont {a.her sold s,lt fish.
r3. For a d€scription oI some of the,e glpsy priesb see Apuleius,
\ Metamaryhoset 8.21.20
14. For an elaboration of this point see P. Wendland\ Hsll.zi-
tkch-rijmiche (zltzr (Tiibingen, rgrr) ?{5-146. On Sr. Paulh use
of sone ol the oethods of the diatribe and on the coqleclion be-
tween the diatribe and Ch*tian preachiDg generally, see X. Norden,
Antihe Kunttprcsa (Leipzig, ,898) !.bo6 n. r, and ,.556-558. There
tu a good aualrsi of the stlle of lhe dialribe in rhe srme work,
r.rr9.r3r. The whole subje.t is cl€arly and pereratingly reated in
an old but still useful book, S. Dllls Ronah Societl lrom Nerc to
Marus AuteLiu (London, ,9o5'), Boot UI, c. 2, "The Phildsophic
15. We know Bion.hiefly thiough hh life in Diogenes Laertius
4.46 5?j see also voq Amim in PDl/n, 3.485,485 and C. Wachsmuth,
Sittosalhi &tue.i (Leipzig, 1885,) ?3-?7. His discou$es hare dis-
aPPeared, but they caq be reconshucted from quorarions, and desqip
tiols, and imilalions by his foUower Teles, {hose work has been well
edited by o. Hense lTdeti retiquioe, Tnbingen, r9o9,). On Teles
6ee 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
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 81ace-
fuuy 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. $rendlind and O. Kern,
.249.
 Nr'OTES ON CHAPTER II
B.iltiige zu/ Gdchichte der g;echischen Philosolrhie und Religion
(Berlin, r895).
t9. In .. r, sections 4 and 5, of hjs book cired in r.9 M. Pue]na
Piwonka draws a slDrp distinction between the sernofl$ 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 of in Arh
Dion)'sus
tophrnes' arogr. \{c hear also of a l]ight ro HeaveD, nodcled (as
:, .950
NO?'S ON CEAPTER 1I
H€lm in Pt7lnE ,i.r.889 inrers) on the flight or Trygaeus in Aris-
lophanet 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 <rq2\) |os 4r1.
,4. Lu.ian sals he "dug up" M€nippus: sre \is Tuie Accsed 23.
The slnportaz of Menippus was an arcesror or Julian, remarkable
saiir€ on his predecessrr, :u!trdoLov i Kp6vu, on wli.h see p. 16?.
15. On Lu.ilius and Callimachus see M. Puelma PiwonLal boot
(cited ln n. 9), especjalty c. 4, section ?. Lucilius 698 quores and
criticiz$ Ar.hilochus, ard Ma* in his edition suggests lhat atl his
Menty+evenrh book was deaoted to a dirical discu$ion of Archi
lochus. on Archilo.hus and Hipponax in Horacet epodes see Epod.
6.13-,4; oq Archilochus as an ifipiralion for Horace s sermohes,S.im.
r.5.t2- C. M. Dawson has a good study of Caltimachus's iambics in
rcJ r1 (r95o) 1-,68.
!6- Margites is an exrension of udpyoq, "mad," as TheNit€s of the
Aeoli. oapoos, boldnes. '
17. Few iI any rholars now believe MolAtldr {as composed by the
author or authon of lhe 1l@d and O.l!$d)'. It looks lit€ folk-naterial
put into a sophisticated merer abour fte rime of Arclrilochus. The
fragmenls and resrimonia are on pp- r5?.r6q of dre frith lolume of
T. W. Allent edilion of Homer (Oxford, ra,r). Aristode's nenrion
of the poem has misled some people inro asuming that ir mus! haae
been r Nock epic; but it was not .alled a rdpo6td, rarher a rdiyvrov.
See I. J. Lelievre, "The Basis of Ancient Parody," Gteece and Ram.
r 095a) 3o n. rr. A papyrus wirh ,r lraenenrary lines (heaameien
inegularlr hinbled with ianbics) which nay be pat or Malgitds was
edited by E. Lobel jn Orlrnln.hs Popyti Pa XXII (London,
t954) no. ,3o9. They a.e interpreted and the poem is recotunucted
in an atremely ingenious e$ay by H. Langebeck jn IJSCP 6:l (,!58)
33-63. He appears to me to nake i! probable that the hero was not a
dull clod, but a bogus intellectual who thought he knew evelything
,8. Ennius's -rycdtrhdgdli.a was a rranslaiion ol lle.lyfnthid b\
the Iounh.entury Si.ilian author Archesfarus- This poem goes
'251 .
 NO?'S OIV AH APT ER II
into Eieat dehil on the bett vadeties of fish and othei delicacie|.
Sinc€ it is in hexameters, and uses th€ diction oI Hom€r and othcr
lofly wtiters for a trivirl subject, it looks like a satiric Parodyj an(l
yet the author seetu to take the subiect quil€ seriously, with no
PerhaPs i! should be c1a$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,
,.4.,-8, ,.,0.46ir). M. Puelma Pisonka, in c. 3, section , of hir
book .ited 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)$e! and Titsias,
may well have been inspired by MenippuJs NrAuia, although not
directly modeled on it; see R. Helm, a,.iau &nd Menipf (Leipltg,
1906) r9.
Zo. Apolagia 31c8 d\.
3r. The ertant monologue satires in Latin (ex.luding the satirc{
of Luciliur and vaho, which are so lragmentary that we can nelcr
be quire sure of deir originel shape) arer Horace ,.r, 1.t, r.3, ,.4i
r.6, r.ro, ?.:, and,.6i Persius r, s,3, and 5r aU Juvenals pocnN
€icept 4 and 9. Some of thcse satires open by addre$ing a real
p€rson-who, ho ever, does not reply (e.s. Hora.e ,., and Juvenrl
6)j and many hare short pa$agee of dialogue with an imaginary
interlocutor or intcrlocutors; but they are basially nonologues. Thctr
there ar monologu€s disguised dialoguesr Honce 2.1, 2.3, 2.1,
,.5, *.7, !.8, and Juvenal 9. In six of these the.hief speater is not
rhe poet himself but another chancter Honce s.3, !.4, s.5, ,-t, !.8,
,*
NO?ES ON CHAPTEF II
nnd Juvenal 9; and in Horace 2.5, rhc Poei does not aPPear at all
Hora;e ,.8 b a! oddity, for it is really a na!.ative in 1he lorm oI a
monologue with Horace acting as interlo.utor. Juvenal r5 conlains
r detailed and vivid narrarive, bui most of the Poem is an indignanr
monologue conmeniing on the s1orl Satnes in 1he mooologue lorn
oI a lettcr at utconnon in Lalin, but Horace's Poeric LetLe4 ^re
quirF.lo.e b \Jrirr P8 r.,8). dnd Pebiu' 6 ool' like I lFrrer' OI
rire otrcr rarin 'ari'e'. Horace ,.5 , 7 ,9 and ! 8 \nPntion'd
above as a hybrid) are narlatives, as is Petroniust Sar)'i.a; some oI
Vano E best sadreFEu d)mion$, 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$ati\e i; lom, are br.kdlly Pl,odh': HorJ'P P,rod\ing d dedn3_
|ory epigram with an aetiological addilion, Jurenal an ePic Poem
by Statius, Seneca a hisbri.al mono$aph, Vano the Od)$d) On
Petrorius sce p. ,,1.
92. Satire and epic, Juvenal ,.5r-5?; satire and tragedy,663466,
Iuvenrt s s.tir"" 1t,o re. eived TU, h ot rl-p poxc, of rhe mono'oguc"
6n cr-hi."l ,n.t po.i',.i1 .ubje t'. (rllFd d-l"rdtion' shi,h werP
lashionable in ihe first century A.D
t3. Weinreich rcmarks on P. tc of &e Inlrodlcdon to his
Ri;mkche Satneh (Znricl, roaq) that the vet'y i'rles Agdinst EuhoFils
and, Againn Rufinu not righl for satire, whi.h is true. Thel stand
^te and inve.tives such as ci.ero's attacks on
half way belwcen satire
Antony and Catiline. ID satire thei. closest relative js Juvenal 1,
ridiculous flatterie6 oI dle Greeks in Juvenal 3.86_108 are as bad as
Lucian s toad)ing pane$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,).
Hovever, there ; Do good evidence &at the two men knew ea.h
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
NOTIIS ON CHAPTER II
l:1"1 -,':'. o,.,ionr.tv rhouBh, or him,etr r! d.inc a vrniq,r
in on/ d rHo book\ as,{s4;r/ R,fn,,. 4.ri2). ThGe is a sound, though rather unsymPalhetic, pon.ait of
l:'_'ll'"1 'l',,."1,"p,
rh( !4riFr\ and qir whn h"uLh
rrp F.,€nriah of sadrc Abnham in c. ? of n. A. KannS tlrd) tn A ntian Inklledual Hk'
j6..Whar hrpprned in rhe Middlc Ag-a wJc,hat e,jrc ot rhe loa)' (New Yo.L, r90o).
n oDoroguc r\pe was di\pt1.ed bv invcrri\e or ...omptrinr,
thi. 43. Ror., Campbell, The Georyiad (London, r93,) ,et7
pro,.-, F kdt dF\ribpd bv \ar. John perFr in (., of his coarldi,r 44. For idcntilications of most oI the characte6 in dese nolels
a1d s,utra tn rart\ r aetih Li,"tutut? ro\,ord. rgru). s.,riu; q and an account oI MiUert life wlile he was wriling and liting thed,
ut see Allr.d Pe.lns, M) I'iend. Henry ltiuet (New York, t950).
tnar , hrlrq dis, usq. .te"rty and ifluminarin8lv. rh;q,.,t,"r
Dernaros
.h;h.( j5. Mort Sahl is famous enough to hale been the subje.t of a
poetu re a rcal satire.
5?. This is lrom .Against the pride of the Ladies,,, on pp. rBc-,,i6 IulueDgth .hancter{kerch ih Tiftc (Aususi 15, 1960). It .ontains
ot.The pot'ti.at toas! ol Fa8!a1d ttam th" R.ien al !;i.,;,;,) some good specinens of his butteill-pluswasp diatribes.
ol Eduatd.l t. ed. rt onLton. ,8r9r. I hrvF \ti8t ,tr addp,pd 46. Commenting on Teience! Pio'u to, Donatus €xplicitly says
.Fwclc
-'r.-Wti8hr
me texr: in padiculdr. !irh ,iorl\..r that the paraEite Phormiot speech in 839f. js not talen from the
iwhhh eo.c ,o w.U Greek originel of the comedy, but f.om Ennius's satires: he then
'r,ntnForiginal tlobi. ThFre iq dt.o a Aood sJrire . On rt ; Con- I quotes six lines. They can be found in Waminglon's Rena;ns at' Old
love attrirs: see pp. rE,6-rr,q, Latin I lLoeb serie, Camlrridse, Ma$., 1935) 388-389. A contem_
The sdri'nal pdragF ,rom sr. Bernd,d i, s,tto 1, \up"t porary monologist, Bob Newhart, ho has probably neve! heard of
-38-
uanttu4 (PL rii..ol.9i9r,.ir.dbr Okn.pf.,7, ?,r. rhFce.qrion Xhnius, delive.s a diatribe on lhe same plan. Spealing in the char-
t,om Brom\2rd is in ow{. pp. 3,63,7: rir; ida.:, D,. a.ier ot a disgn,nded common soldicr in George Washingmn\ amy,
prarn5, dlso occDrs jn ptet, ptauma" t^a i,
Owr e\- he piles up Amy gripes about all lhe great figlres of the War ot
'n 11\ i riri PoFm
rrr,bured ro watrcr Ma ' Independence. "You hear what Nutty George pulled last night? The
t-o'.coliJ. r. dut?ada id rheFem\otw,t,Fr dollar a.ro$ the Potodac, you d'dn1 heat about thaQ You know
..30. "."1i,g. """ he had ns out till three in the mo.nirg looking lor the damn
Y"p_*:.Ti: La!i, Po"n. commont\ ttttibut"d to tratt4 Mop^.
ed. ,. wri8hi (London, r8ar). thing? . . . There was some nut flashing a light on ard ofi in the
p_.-s8q.n. 19r his rrooi( .ired on p. chur.h tower all ni,aht. The ftinute lte quits, this drunk goet iding
.,1.: 9l'.';..::
be cnt'te. wtk ot Ba,h , p,oro\u" is no nofl rn,. a *ii^ 41 5"ya rrra, through town screaming. . . . H€re .omcs one of the real weitdos of
or ,,, i. them au-Benn),r the one nith the squue gla$es. Ncx! rime we
trcn5on rhc remp ot rtre gid rbour woman. ralFn by pF h.'
rhe shat dcs,riprion in p,overb. Ir^; have a thunderstorm, watch himl" (Ne, voiA ?incr, April ,?, r96r.)
7.,o.,2. rhir ,"1m. a li,rtc lik" In his .brrming infodudory letter dadicating The Pni:e af
47.
4t. A\ You Lihe tt 2.j.so-5t. aoll, to his frifDd Thomas l{o.e (partl,! because "folly" in Greek
4p. Abmham a crncrd Ctrra difleF from Bion in rhe ta,r ,hrL i5 aoltd, wilh a long o) f,rasmus defines it as a satire, by sayi'g it is
Bion qd. almost sholt\ neearivF and yepri,dt. wh:tF 4Lrrl,dn both funn) and biting, by pointing out that, ahhough ostensibly a
wds piece of fooiery, it has a serious meanins, and by lisling among its
a dprour cl'i.,ian. bur therF ,r" msnr m;rtFd ,oin. iden.F. in
rhe! pr€de.essors Alhenian Old Comedy, The Battle al Lrogs and Mk.,
styles- Bion said_abour wives that ar ugty one ras a ndri
and a Senecas Apacolo.yntosis, and a oik by Lucian.
prxv one r ko,ui rDiog. Lacr,. 4.48). So AbrlhJF w1,Dq hh redde,s
or thp dang4\ ot lo\e and mdnia8p. sayinq rhd, vcnur h 48. B.owning called thcse serious monologoes D/ahdtic Idyk and
''we. wrq mrn,hp IIre Nu$ mu$ der Wenu$: Dramdt;c Ramdnces. They bear about the same relation to regular
VrrltFbre autbpi.,en,,. (J,d6
d..r E^th?tn poetic drama as his saiiri. honologues to sadric conedy.
3. p. 69r' in mrrrir8e onr mu{ i hoose .a,.tult\.
''d"mit man ni'.Book
an,rart eincr CFr -u, , in S."ren trrut, an.Lau e;ne, 49. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethrt lo8a22 and rr?4b3o.
Paulen einen Faulen, znstaft einer Doiothee €in Ach und Wehe, bo. Hamlel 3.2.9"t gg and 3r2 3t4. Sce a detailed analysis by N.
amrarl eincr sibilr ein€ ptFRertMrht h.qrrhe.. (/zaar. Boot L KDnx: The uard irony and irr contert, r5ao-r7tt (Durhim, N.C-,
p. ln rhF addrp$ ro ihF reed.r bptorc Bo.k 3. he eys rhar he rq6r).
'5)..ot want "d€r Heil. 5r. A. R. Thompson, in a good little book called The Dry Mo.h
does Lehr einen Fassnachr_Mantel 'anlegen,,,
which is like aiv g odoei@ d€,w iG6uo€v of Rion (Djog.;err (Berkeley, Cal., 1948), sals that dramatic iDny {as fint so namcd
and dcscribed by collop Thirlwall, the B.ilish scholar, in 1833
.254.
1. '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$," wrote Pope to Swifr: see l\is Cotrespondefl.r, ed. c. Sher-
burn, vol. 3 (oxrord, 1956) 360. I owe rhe quorarion originally to
Mr. Ian Jack, Augustan Sari. (oxford, 1952) roo. In.idenralty, I
believe he is a liltle ofi rhe nark iq desqibins rhc Latin Jaru'a as
"in esselce an inlomal ethical episrle, wirhout a plot.' An etlicat
epistle would Dot naturally have a "ploC i and aparr from that, letrers
for ihe Romatu were nrher more {ormal than sD€ecL The 6bs.eni-
rirs and absuJirie, of mu,h ta,;n 3arire rould have bFen imp.r-
missible in a letter, but are ex.used by the fa.t that tley are supposed
to be ebullitions of lively talk. S!iU, rhe conre.tioq ol setmo
epirrrla is .lose: see Nt. Puelma Piwonka Giled in n. 9) 9r,91. ^nd
51. Oa rhe CPiItes du .oq-d-l Ane see O. Ro$etrini, Zcr I"f!cr.6
anciennes et itdliehnes tur la satbe en hance au XyI. s;C.le lFlot-
ence. 16.,8.
51 '9r81
On cr. l.romes leuch:eF n. 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. PAR ODY
r. See R. Lebel, ntar.el Duchamll (6. C. H. Hamilron, New york,
1959) 44-45. The ritle was L.H.O.O.Q., whi.h appears to be a di6-
tortion oI LOOK, but if spelled dut letrcr by letler in lrench be-
comes the wlgar 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
.256.
]VO?ES ON CHAPTER III
thrr Ddrodl mPanr rqo rh:ngr' P'in iPdll\' in crFece and RomF: on''
oa*,e" rro-,i Jurtot and alPl)ing ir to a @6i'
'.-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
slieit charccreris i', and not nftP$aril) q!o';n8 'ny Pd*age
. 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
,.-rhi\ oarodi. a,rriLur.d ro an anon)mout dc'Fgrte rtod a
.oinr.y i'.. r""*' Hemi.Ph're rdt publi'hed in rl"r vr'd vo't
ot
'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 $,r ;t rh)ming Parod' ol th' rroth
'p*r^ u" r,t',t'1r m,ry men shFn fie) .jng \e.Fts are thinting
oI worldly thires, like thi;:
DIXIT DOMINVS DOMINO IiEO
heut gehen rvt zum Hefn Leo
SED! A DEXTR1S I{[IS
heunt werde i.h gewinnen, das ist Sewiss
DONEC PONAM INIMICOS TVOS
gectern hab i.h ve6pilt d,eY Ma$
SCABELLVM PEDVI\I TVORVM
nPDnr wird si.h das Gluck kehren um
VIRGAM VIRTVTIS TVAE
las silts i.h lerd lrbcn f!r/i h.
IN "5PLLNDORIBV'i SANCTOR\Nl lx V] FRO A\Tf
I VCIFERVII GENVI TE
so daDn be?ahlen ni.h 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
sauiTich 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
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$, ,)zar,idn, Oxford, !949, p 'z5o)
o. He,lerh Ppd,6on. Zrb6) (New \ork. t91t)' 2lb LJbou,hare
ar.o ,"mm..'.' on Qu-.n Vi' r.rid s pol\^hiloP'oEPnir:\e nrrurc in
 1VO"ES OIi CHAPTER IIT
i rlig\,ly bli'pr'Fm.r. p.,'oJv ot J4uq rpho,i.r i,. ]r" I,.w 6.J4:
''\'lrr. inni lor rhr rFier' dr, | ,p pr ,nJ,I rt r'p. r5er.nt. .tb I p 1\,.)
,o. s. N. Sehrman, Porhair ol Md, (New york, r!160) 89-97.
\\. Goody Blake and Hala\ Gill.
12. sinan Lee, the On Eunttmot.
iS. Ilisce\a eo s Sonnek, Part IU, xiii. I.annot resist quoting a
deli.ions pie.e of setfprrody bv the parna$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.
15.The name oI Pigres of Halicama$us, who was the brothq
oI Queen Artenisia (aliied with xeRes ir hi, invasion ot creece),
is tnditionallv conneded {irh this poemr blr it tooks more lite a
product ol rhe agd ol Aristophanes, sotue nfty years later_ Tleie
at a good article, wirh bibljogriphy, s.r. Ptgrcr, by \ i. Aty, inpr/nE
qo.2.,J,g ,q,6. and a lirtle rreatise futl oI interesrjns side infotuarion
by G. w Waliemarh, Da Batnchomyotuachiae orignte, natura, his,
totid. J ..io.:bus.'nilotio?ibL,,srur'grn. .88o) Ih/," 1r" rwo dit
rerhr airoun,s or the oriE:n ot ttd,o.t\ jn crF.,e. q,iqrorte (po-, \
!118d,2\ sr\s ir v h, n qr i rrn bv He8emon ot Thaio.. a n;r who
',
Iitpd du,ing,rre Pdop.nrr,irn War. potemo. quo'nd b) Arhen1.u"
1,5,-698b), a$errs rhat the inventorol paiody wa; ihe bitier janpoon-
iq,, HiDpon'\. kho li\ed mu{t' pa'ti,r. abour
no hinS ,o ruppo,r
,,o B.C Rur rh;.F i,
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,
ieputable Nbjcct: ir would be more cotect to d;$ibe rhed as
mF,elu
"bu.ivF Ii(. r,'e angl .pce.h ot A,hi a in ;o.t Ln4 the
inrF, rn-. ol r-l parod, a, rn indi\ id,,at r) p,
"ioJ in r,yorA' ,trd D rxr.
of poe,n \o! rhF fforp in,mdu,-d t,v HFscnon. xh^ h,d o,rsinalt)
bpen a 'l'rns"d., ' cFri^u! rc,iq ot epn- poFtry. Hh roq tarrous
worl las a rattle of Gtdrtu, which amuseil ihe.Arhenians even in
the grim days of rheir Sicilian expedirion. For the survivins f.aa-
rPn,! nt Hippond\ .'nJ Heg.mon. rn.l di.,u.,ionq. s"p B,.n/r,
Catpusculutu \.3t.36 and 3j-49.
On the other hand, since so much crecl lileraruie gftw out ol
folkpoeta, it is tempring to rhink that Hegemon .lid not .,invent',
parody, but iathd sLylized an eii6ting form. F. W. Householder,
nAPQlArA, cP j9 (r94) 8, suggests rhat afrq serious recjtarjons
of epi. poetry by rhe profesional rhapsodists, lhere appeared anateur
parodists who mide lun ol their matter and sllle. So a hagjc rilogy
was followed by a satyr playj and fas€dies by .omedies. Ir would b€
a shlme not to mcniion a magninc..! parodl bv Matro or Pitana, the
A ic Dinner (c.3,5 B.C.), a hunsrv n.n's desdiption of a banquet
.258.
NOT ES AN CHAPTEP lII
in Homeric terms. It shows an almost in.redible verbal fa.ility and
a loowledge of Homer which must have b€en virtually compl€te
from the beginning of the Iled to the end of the odjr$a); it plays
with wolds in many difierent fashions-puns, un€xpected line-end-
ings, 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
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 land-
animah and water-anidals, who are not uslaUy natural enemie,
and because of the tndition tlut the poem was Mitten by a @n-
tedpo.ary of Xerxes, it has been believed r}rzt t)1e Batra.hony-
ond.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) 168-
r69.
!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$ociat€d Press, February 16, r95?.
?5. This lack ol selectivity vitiates an otheMise valuable collection
of material by C. D. Ml.Dougau called Hoar.r (New Yort, 1958,).
!6. Clifton Jades tells the story in detail in I W6 Monty's Doublc
(New Yorl,
'958). w;c ich Hatphdnn
!?. W. Voigt, . Kdpenict uurd,e, nein
IdrcnsDtd (Ber]in, n.d., c. !9o9).
.259.
 NO?'A ON CHAPTER ]11
28. Adriaq Stephen, The "Dreadnbught Aoat (Lotdon,
2s. Aeneil. 4.43r'. Tdlibus otubdt tdletque mietima fetus. . . .
30. The storl oI Partridge is told in the Dictionary of National
Biography and supplemenred by W. A..[ddy in The wits,r. John
Partridge, Astrologer," Strd.ies in Philolog 29 (r93r) ,91o. Professor
Janes Clifiord of Columbia has bcen kild erough to check my
a(Lounr ol dre hou add to add 3ome deta:I, The lame iMmeLimes
(e.9. iD S\\itt\ AccanpUthment ol the Fbst al Mr. Bich.fiafr's Pre-
di./to,t spelled Parftige. The Nlerlin quotaiion is from the end of
t,- Derails of thjs and many olher lirerary deceprions are given
in a delighiful bool .alled ,{'ltf.er .t Mynificdtions LittCrdiftt by
Roger Picard (Iloltreal, ro4i). MdimCe had already invented a
Spanish ptaywdght called Clara Gazuli and a fe knowjng readers
snspected Hya.inthe Maglanovilch be(ause his po .ait showed hjm
playing the grla-not De.ause that is not a real Balkan insliument,
bu. because it is an anagram of Gazul. Maglanovitch is said to mean
"soq oI mist," a suitable name for a poet of the mo ntains like
O$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 noser-
34. 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
?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,
a macarcnibus de.ivara, qui quoddam pulncnrum,
farina caseo butyro compaginatum, gro$ m rude et rusticanum. ideo
maca.onica nil nisi gro$edinem ruditatem e! vocabulezos deber in
se continere.' (Quoted from J. A. Moryan, Macaran;c Poetry, NrN
York, r871,,48{49.)
31. Pope, Rdpe ot' the Lacn, Canto I ard Canto 3 Rn.j John PhiliP3,
Th. Splendid Shilltzgi Pope, Dunciad, Book 4 inh. 'rhe splendid
S/ttllirg is a little jewel of satiric parody. Philips, who was l,Iilton s
nepherv, Mote it, rot ro no.k his uncles magnifi.ent poerry, bur
to am$e and teach one oI his own unde.graduate tuiends who was
a spendthiift, by heroically exaggerating the woes of insolvercy and
.260.
NOTES ON CHAP'TER III
1936).
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.
t5l'r84.
39. Pope, Dunciod 2.
40. swi|., Le|ion clr, ,5,-,52. There is a good discu$ion oI this
poem in Nlaurice Jol-n.on s (i, ol tv,/ ,\\ra' lre '{ Y 'oo_ro;
'95o\
4r. Carulrus66. trom ( dllimz(hni Lac4 ot B'ftnn.: tl. 7 h. Rap.
ol the Lach 5.121',3o1
A ludd€n star n shot through liquid air,
And drev behind a radian, uail of hair'
Not Berenice's lock fi6t rose 5o bright,
The heavens bespangling with dishevelled light.
42, speace, Anecdotes (€d. S. w. sinser, l-ondon, r8!o) Se€tion
v, r?3? . . . 39, P.
'94.
43. Details of Juvenat s parody of statius are given in G Highet,
l&enal the sat[''t (Oxford, 1954) 79 and 156 259, notes ,, 5, tr, and
41. 'll\e Moihdea br Teofilo FolenSo (r{9,-I541) is in the dighdy
inappropriate meter oI eleSiac coupleis, and n written in !h€
''macaronic" blend or Latin and Italiin (rnostly Latin): ns chier
nodern inspirarion seetu to be Arioslo. Lope! C4touagrr is in
a loose lyricai meter: it begins with an ioitation of vergil s lezeid
r. ra d (the aulobiosraphical lines cut out by Versil s executois) and
contains sne good parodies of Arioslo. -A.ddison .atled his Poem
nYTMAIO-TEPANoMAXIA, and based it on the.urious lirlle Piece
or geographicat tot about central Af.ican pygmies and southward-
mig.ating cranes in,llmd 3.2.?. Iracaula)' tholght it might have Siven
3,755- a hint to Ssilt for his volage to Lillip|t Gee Macaulays e$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$ii.antos of it are
too mu.h. There is a wiity English abbreviation and adaptation of it
by w S. Rose, in ihe style of B)ron: Tnd Cautt and Pathanent ol
Be6rs (London, r8'9).
.261 '
 NOTES ON CHAPTER III NOTES ON CHAP?ER 111
{1. Lirrr r 4 ol t e Lut,:a tohF\pond ro ten?,d t.t.j. c\en in see G. Highet, The Clasial Ttuditian, OxfotC,, t949, .. 14, par-
\u, h r .n.rll d"r"il da Lhc r"u' Terr' ;t rhe ,so prr.s ol rhe rhemp. ticularly pp.28cr82.) It goes on to say that tl€ supporters of rhe
atna / uilutnque qut erc. moderns applauded, thc lorcB of thc cienrs were disgusr€d, and
t"s , aabol, ?t . " P,, 1"1 .^ Lt". a third Broup-vho believed that in sone fields thi ancierts ex.elled
1di et, the nodems, and the modems su.pa$ed tbe an.ienrs in otllerts
T\e invo{I;on ro d,c \tu,p in tirec a.,? ro a|orrtq r. r.,"iJ left the mccting peDsively. One of thed (obviously de Calliares,
,.8-,,: eLen \qdrl, dn.rfd luFiI4n ,unu.udl jn,pi pvpl),. i although he does not name himselD tnen dreamed the advelture
,act.rt.hu. ra.". n neart\ prrodi.d by Boi"iu: de{ibcd in dre epic parody which lollosr: a war benleen Ancients
Tant de 6el entre-t il dans l ene des ddrors? and ModerDs, stimulaied by rhe Bodde$ Renown, wlo ca$ied a
Pope did rhe same in lines ?-rr of rhe frrst book of his napd, en.ring desription of &e meeting up to Paha$us and recired Pefaulrt
wirb poem. Then tLe Ancients seizcd onc peak of Panassus, the Ntoderns
In sofr bosoms d{ells such mighry rage? the othcr. (The mountain does in lact har€ two peaks.) The bartle
/I oftFn vondFr Io{ m
ot Heli.on ensues, with r number ol Homeri. duels: Corneille is

he,e Lard bv 'n\ .raoui

o|h,
fdrodic pa{rges ot fnA,i.t rdrir- deleatcd by Sophocles and Euripides, Malherbe by Pindai, Statius
c,FFt R;m," o,iiin"... by Marinii dre contest of Scneca with Lope de vega is a dnw.
how m n\ .Lgq^rp,l ro rhpm b\ Bort,Ju.";d
'h.ir.ru.h^,s
Thu,. lohns^n.,,n.u"".,t Racine and Boileau then join lhe Ancients, and are wel.oned. Ar
plu".- dr rhp L.qin,'ing of h:. o( Ji,er.l ,o. -tron last perce is made on a.oDpromhe de.reed by Apollo, who ends
"dJprr,ion
( I'inz ,o I'c, u.- n in,p,'r,l tc., dira ,i) bv Ju\en. Lh.,n L) BojtpJU 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
De Parjs au pirou, du Japon juqu't Rooe. xeadi but anyone who goes throlgh it .arelull) is bound ro see thar
Anrl .urFI) rl-c g1"ar Fn4r /t rl,e cnd ot popr', D{,.i,/. ,i,F Swjlfs ,a/r/e ot' the Books was (as lvolron suggesred) an innadon
of Dulr,s, is moJeh.l on ,hp ydwn ot \aollA\a )a\n of it, with somc gaps and some original additions. Like de Callitres,
"t ,rp e,d oi rlk
re.o_nd boot of l.d Lutrinl) In ]rLis n$t book, Boileau goes on !o Swjlt opened (ith tlle seizur€ of the two peats of Pama$us, and
modpl rle?ng.rot Dr,orJ rnd h"r inoiBn"nr .a..h upo. pro.eedcd to a var, sith an elaborate order ol barrte and a selies
ourLur{ or in Aflfid t 31.49. k.hitF hpr uan,to,mr,io;
Jur-, ot duels; he made the goddes Fame lly from earth ro hcaveD with
'd8e
dn lrFd {'vJnr ot rFlision
"nd h"r !i. ro rhF Le1\urpr \ rvt 'nto
ar,. news of rlre .onflicr, and caused Jupirer to inrerest himseu in ir, tihc
parodics of the demon Allecto s visit ro Turnus in I eneid Apollo in de Cal]ieres' parody. But he was roo inexperjenced to
7 to;466.
46. Abtalatu and Achitapldt r. 8 jo. workout an oignral and consistent .onception, and perhrps ashamed
a7. Reporrd b. ne"n ro,(iFr ir \p.n., q /,-,do... (,,1. \. W. to .opy de Callitres too closety. ThN, he presentcd Denrley bolh
Sin8a. I ojdon. ,82u. (e, rinn IL ,t10 . . 3?. 6ot. as a libErirn Guperior to au the boots) and a, one or the wading
I,
W'r,d' in 7l"n4p"ot,\"to.hJnd iop""Uo.,,.-.triq
48. book.hampions. And-a mu.h greate. sign oI immaruriry-he .ould
-I /r!47\ 54?-35t not finish his piece. Hc promised to gile "a lull imparxial ac.ounC
rtptu'eJ l.,r i'rn "how. rl-ar. "lhnuqh tanr. rrd djrion ^t Home;
rhe pJLIi,alon t in" Xop". pote pr.o,ti.,t of a bartle which happened "on l'riday lasr. Bur as soon as he
\crsF. lrom hi, trdnrt-,ion htirc so,ti,JA on it ,n,l i.,..r..r ttre startcd desoibing &e fighr irsell, he pretended to be r.nslaring tuom
pa,odies inro his sarjre. atr ar.icrr record inte.rulted b) gaps jn lhe nanusdipt"i and he
aa. l,rn(^i. d- cdlliAlFc H;:ta.r" po..ttL. d. lo g""r" -. ... t1". broke ofi after a dorn piges *irh 'Desuni .ac,rra" ( the iesr is
a" u,t" .i,\ p1 rl1.,01,i"n.,tF:rad"u", \...p,hrt.Fd la.king") long betore the tcnnination of rhe .onfli.r, which h€ there-
1".,,688
in ar Paris, withour an auLhor's name. Ir is in the 6tn ot a fore, uDlike de Callidres, lelt undecided- Swift\ o{q episodes, the
prose veision of a cla$k.l epic, in twclle bools, wirh an nrtfo.tuc- Iable oI the spider and the bee and the flight of Nfomus, aie far
rion. ll.p in'rodu,rio',.1,!ribFq rhF tormdj op.nind ot rh. 8, ., better ihm his imitatiotr ol the Frnch auLhor. The r$emblance
ol Lh- Bool" rhc t" t'..;,n of rhp r,w trFnrh \rad.n) 1r between lhe iwo satics is cxamined in some detail l)y E- Pons, suil,
whjch Charles Perranlt ^u.
read his poem Ic s;acle de r.olis te Crand, (stnsbours, r9,5) ,7r-,?1. For de callirres' satire several earliel
(l"imine ,l',r ion,-mpora^ rren, h hI.er. F,tuo.F, or .urpar.rd inspirations have bcen suggestedj but one which appeals parricularly
rl-e an.iFnr c.Frr . nd I rrin x,.rto.. (tor rt-,,
th .. ot rir i|rIh. to me is the fight in dre bool$hop desoibed in the fifth canto oI
.262. '263
 NO?',J ON C1]APTER IlI
3oileaut Zu,rtr: the rival faclions pelr each orhe. wirh lotumes,
and the fight becomes a bartte ol rhe books lhemsetveF
Li, pres d un cuarini, Taren.e rombe e rene;
Ll, xCnophon dans l'air heurte contre un La Serte.
50. Joyce gave a very luu list of 1he Homeric panllch in Utlsci
to his friend Sruarr Gilbe.t, ryho expounded lhem h his siudy Jan?r
lor.e's "Uuset' (New York, rssr).
5t. La Secch;a Rdpitd, canto r, stanzas r? and 15. Lors of brorh
52, Cdnro r, strnzr 30.4r,4o.2nd 36 rjn rha' or,larl.
53. cdn'o 3, srn/d ?7. and cdnro r. sr.n/d 3r. BotoSId i e-
nowned for it$ 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
A tous mes chanrsl la monte'me la$el
Un Bimple fait .ontd naivemcnt,
N..onrnrn' que lr vr,iri pure.
Narr€, succinct, sans frivole orDement,
Poinr trop d'esprir, aucun raffinemenL
voill de quoi desarmer la censure_
AlloDs a! fait, lecteur, tour rohdement,
Ceq non 2vh. T"btcru Lr'npr& narur..
5il f.r bien lri', nJ bp,otn d( borJue.
Notice, as well as rhe lisht smooth verse of burtesque, the usual p.otes
ratioq o{ rhe satirist that he is merety teling th; phin unm;ishe.l
book is caued Satr^ricah liber, w]lli.b ieans Baah af Sa'r_
__.b8..The
l;Lc Ad entureq o! Sarri.on Itb€r, whi.h (wirh a repeltent bur ;or
impossible hybiid {ord) neans Babh al iatnic rn;nsr. rr shorld
not be.alled Sallrt.or, any more rhar Vergjl,s cco,gn should be
called his ceolgt.on or Hotuces Epadon tiber t\is Ep;dan.
59. This suggestion is worLed our h c. Highet, ,,perroDius the
Moralist, TAP\A 7, (,94r) ,?6,oa.
60 CF,vrnr"q hinrrlf in rhe,ao,,d,t,.t! r \,irs" in.,^qs Jrr i"
fran! rbour them: una m)nadi de pu.rio\ i.ur .'n 1-,u6n.,r..
llaman).
6,. This is rhe opening of Chapter ,.
62. Dan Qu;xote, Pa ,, c. 6 ad nn.
6j. Doa Qrt*olc, Pa r, c. 9 ad fin.
.264.
64. Esdtbmr, Part r, Canto r, 359.361-
65. Ijldiblar, Patt !, Canto r,58j.59o:
\ou s, l fnd ir d ht,J,1upr"'.
To catch ne wiLh poetic npture,
ln which youi mastery of arr
I Dolh show itself, and notyour heart;
I Nor will tou raise in miDe combustion
!) dilt of high heroic lunian.
66. -{rnbphanes, Tlid lrogr r3o9j363.
61. The Ftugs t411"t418, rlanslaled by lV. B. Slanlord.
69. Fieldirgt parodies corer a wide range of English baroqu€
dnma, beginDing wnh Dryden, whon he cjtes very often. lt is
slrange !o see him annoradng his own hre, spoken Lry P.i!ce$ Hun-
camunca, 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$a)'s play was nrdeed partirlly based on Shakespcare's lR,m'o
ar.l /!licr; bu! did [ic]ding not recognize the Shakespearean origind
1o- carcI, Chrohonhatohrftologor (,731). The prologle to this
play conecdy defines mockheroic parody as opposed io burlesque:
To-night our.omi.muse the busli. qears,
And g:\.\ he',FIf no sm, l romanr:' aiB.
struts in heroi.s, aqd in ponpoxs !c6e
Does the minutest incidents rehearse.
Jt. "Satondrcla" Btoun in Seerbohmt scrdt ,1trn, which
^ppears
came out in ,9r9. The quotations are lrom Acts r and 3.
12. H enry I r, Pdrt ., 2.4.1tG, 80, parodying l{arlorve, Totub tlain.
lhe Grcat, Pdrt ., 3,t 2,
?3. The duel of Menelaus and Paris (lliad 3.3r4-38t is tou.hed
upon in Tr"i1,6 and crcstzla r.,-r,3-,,7 and ,.!.q?8+91- The parade
of the Troiad he.o.s in Troilus and. cre$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 NO'f ES ON QEAPTER 111
.tat'r (New York, ,94j), whi.h has particularly valuable chaptes on ahd indFFd insar,rc,Pote5)ir ptumc in rft" nrp.. Rubet-
tlrosc diliicult plays ,\ledjurr lot r'teaturc, Timon al Athens, anl liuc Bl'ndus in 8,. \ri,t. ,onr"ml]o.a,iFJ re,^An,/rtlJuvenati
Lim .q p,incc
Coliola,6. xlr. Canpbell dei.ril)cs the tlo la!t$ as "tragicxl iarir.s. Alberi.o di Bclsioroe.
The referen.e ro HatuLet is r.s.ror':,o.- (rhe prnrce \ras elidend) 8a. ThF,e n d g^o,lbndl\.i, ot Con, hd,n\ ! qriri(ilno\el Oblanol,
_lnp
rcading Juvenal ro.) Ii Chapman was lhe .iva1 pocr ol lvhom Shalc- iuperfluos mdn. in,hdprprgo(MJn slon;nsoutt.n. ol Rur
speare speaks wirh such enq in the sorretr, ir is a lirde easier to tian I ptatrte \orL. jq58l.
see why, afrer Chapnar! oanslation had (a! least in part) appeared,
'Ncw
45, Mauina lg2lg1.
Shakespeare should mke such a fier.e delight ii nishaDdljng Homcfs 80. Flrri,rjng poct\, Meuogio,no gos-sjc: ,..onrilio di scmidei
and Chapnan's heroical world. ttqeni, Mattino 6t.62.
11. Air 6 in Thc Deggals Opdfd, "Virgins are like the Iair Flowcr 8,. lhp m\dr oJ primirtrp equ,lirv. M",zo8jo,n,2.r5ojJ8. wilh
iD irs Lusrre," is a vulgarizatioD of a stanza fron Carulluts beautjful sotuc rp\eDbtdnce ro I u(rFriui! pi,ru,c ot ;,imiri\. maniind in
weddjDg song, 6!.40'48. 5.925 9b7.M"-DoEio,no 298-30' jr ad,pred from
Ju\.nat r4.ja.J5.
?8. Chorus of Peers, from i.L 1 ol lolanthe. aa. Yope. Proloqu" to th. Sal es $8.
79. SergcaDt s song wjth chorls ot Police, f.om Act 2 ol The Piaks PrF,c
..89. t tt or dam"bit Rito. uot,;no 7 ,,Or io I inrgn€rd.,,
Motttno tutth! pa'odiesot.t-c dida(ti, manncr in Md,i,o'So-S,.
80. Bunthone's recitativc, trcm Act r of?at;?".d. 395'397,94'-943.
8,. Rutrercup 3 song, lrom l.ct 2 ol H.M.S. Pinalotc. lold.l'ip d,esing. (.mp.,red ro A.hiIcs and Rinaldo,
..9o..His?4s2\11
8r. ifhe parodt of Cilbert and srl]jrat is P.rlcurdncc, ot Holl M.ottila rhe nql' ot Crpid.nd tt\mFn. Vrlriro
a Cotonet,an EntireU original opetetta by Tmbat U vuUigan, Nitlt l'i3lord,hif. cnra6, d L, hh tui,drc$a , (aretpsnc$, tomprrpd lrJig,l
ro a
words by A. P. (now Si. Alan) Hcrberl ind nusic by Viviar Ellis. bull €nap,ng ftom rh. !trrihri,t attzt, Matttlo
54:ia54. ,t. \c,gjl,
It Nrs produced in ,934 as part oI Co.hran's relue Shdarrirr. Tnc A?aei.t 2.2,3a?4 \taB in\o,pd ro
8id on hrs tord.iiir dre$ swo;J.
scene is the rcrace of lhe House of Comnons, $ith lishing-borts ,rtfdrli'o 8o88,4. p'rini ,ompakc him,e ro top",,inging ar !h.
noored in fte Thames to provide a pi.turesque chorus of fisbinggirri. b-anquir Bi\en bv Dido ro AFnFar and ro phpmius rhe minsupt
ot
The plot tums on the fact that 1he Earl of Bnnion had tvin so.s, Krng Ar. inouc in rhp odr r .. Mqzoercno j+1.
but nobodl knows whkh vas born fiist and whi.h slould lherelor. R.o.P..ol thp Lqh s.\: a; -te Benrir Drmeegli am.biti
inhe.i! the title. The final .horus is ar once a criticism oI Gilben .n(l (.rreni
^91. sho off.r "r,,jfr,e. 'haF
ro
SullivaD and a parody of one of thei. most famous songs, 'Tale a in Parinis dedicition ro his Doem 'hem.el\e;on rhe atrd,\ o"t F..hion,
p2i. oI spa.kling e_!es," trott Act 2 of .The Gondoliersl t tlliPut,.. 6.fin. 5wjti pa,o.Jird one of tle nortd q
qldactr, BredrF,t
Take a dainty pandox, ".g2 poem( in his D, - rp!,on at o (.0 srod.i, rt_,Lh is i;.pirpd
Dre$ it like a cho.otate box- 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, $.52 = te1.id
TakF , \o b e', mi\ r'r"m \"11, 'he
'L !.10-53.rinc. 1760 A"nad gfo-j- ihe poinr ot,he.arire
Take one spinster, gire he! H- i{ rh.
Take some togic, chop it thin; lgnobl. elu:lo, of I he ( ir) a, , unu""red h VFrBitt I urdt and heroI
-ldle som' rune. zrd rlFa in: worlds. Tn,hi. rs in,o toan) orh., qri,i(rl
'rh ,rdi,. swjtr qJr rhe
One prrt' r {nB an/'ub
don r fo-err
prede.e$or of.lqnes Joyce. Anal he was a devote.l anat skiltlul prrc_
list. Hi, tnt.ndp.) sp+.h apo,n,t
Your una..omlanied odette. p-o.e. an d,n,r on I ord Noiting
Take a little lolc. but hnshl iab, plrodie, r porir,.at omr;on: tis |,4d\at prcphtry. an a|zcl
Not enough to raise a blush: on the Du.hess of Somerser which is said to have ruined his chan.es
By dcgrecs you'll gct a of obr"ining prFt(rmpnr in rhF r\!rLtr. prrodie, a medietat do.u-
menr.. {nd alrl.ou8h I-'s glFar(.r horL n_no,. in lom. 1 parody. jt
Rather popular operetta.
conuins parodi. di,rdrion.: rhp p.r,\ p\gmr.q ol Li ipur. rl,e gro$
83. Il nfdtttrd came out in 1J62, Il Mezzopiorho ]n 116t. Il resbto
Slanrs ol BrobdirgndS. rhe.quinr'n8 inrue, ruat, ot LapuLs. an.l Lhc
and IaNotld, which Parini did not complete, were published a{te. frlL}v l Jhoo* arp rtrc,p nor p"rorli.i ot l,umJn being,?
his death, in r8ot. Although fte empty-headed )oung noblem2n is
9J. Jpnerrcn ro Langdon ,,8'o,. trcn A r"fle,$n r,afb a, Rp.
desdibed in eeneml tem!, and is a type whi.h ofuc! rccure in history L./'r,r. ed. S. p"doLFr \\Fw york, rq,r6). rq4.
.266. .267,
 NO?'S ON CHAPTER III
91. Hoia.e, Sdrnorcr 1.10.44.
95. vetgil, Catalepton 4,6, ?, atd ,r imitale Catullus. The tentlr
poem is a deler parody or catultus 4, Pnar./d illd.
90. chaucer, rtlr ?nofas rgt4rgts; Prc'logue ta Melibexs t (rto!t),
? (2,,8), and,! (!,,e).
97. S$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.
,-5.) Here is George III on dis.ovedng. louse on his plate at dinner:
"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. ?8-
p9 th.rc js a sweet Sapphi. Ode to Tobacco.
iwFcr. wh,I r orr i, AJ).
"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$ell (London, r9q6),
.oqtaining C).il Connollyt supcrb pirody of Aldous Huxley, To,
ir Gari. Besides Mr. Macdorald's anrhology quoted above, ihere is
a good .ollecrion edired by Burli.g Lowrey, Tuentieth.Century
Pdtodr, Amerian and Brtrsl (New York, rq6o).
rro. Clilton Fadiman, The lvoite at the Door., Iidn his p,rrN
ot ore (New York, ,qi;).
rrr. Peter De Vries, Requiem for a Noun, or I'truder in rhe
Du!l," reprinted ftom The Neu lortidl in Dwighr Macdonatd,s
Pdrodtdr (N-cw York, 1960)-
IV. THE DISTORTI N G MIRROR
r. On the Eskimos and rhe NeSroes see R. C. Elliotr, The pouet ol
sarir" (Prin.eton, ,960) 7ot4. F.om l. Douard, 'Tlre Dozens, rtc
Amcticdn Imago I 0939) 3,,5 (a relerence which r o{e ro Mr.
Elliott), it appears that rhe .ommonest form of Neglo abuse is an
irs lt tothe opponenfs morhei:
Your ma behind
Is like a runble sear.
Ir hang from her back
Down to her feer.
T_he pe.uliar name irDozens ' may .omc from an obscene song in
whi.h the singer counrs up from one ro twelve acts of sexual i;rei-
.ourse with his rtualt nother.
,269.
 NO?'S ON CHAPTER IV
Iooled. (r) The piece conlains many allusions to the contrasts god)
(faat nonar.h) (lo,li ard Nelo nade a pDr on clNdiuts deaih
^nd rhe Greel sord lor "loo1" (suetonius Nctu
ilvolving 33.4. (j) In
contenporary Roman stana cvcutbita mcant 'fool (Pelronius 59),
and ihe crect Io. .z.zrrila is koroxJvon. {Gu rduJ also neant "Iool,'
says Quintilian !.5.5?: and so docs go,rde in moden French.) So
if we waDted a lypically slangy and vulgar titl€ to correspond to
,4lo.oloryrtoJis, we .ould .hoose ,optI.dt,o,. However, Mr. Robert
Graves hassugge$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 Derem-
ber 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$t year as Empel
16. Julian, Srnpost"m 336ab. The title by s'hich thc rvort is now
g€n€nlly known, The Cdesars, is not found in tbe manuscripts.
Although it
is technically a N{enippean satire, blended ot prose and
poFll!. rhflc dr€ v.n fF$ '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${ell (Nclv York, r9.r), Introducrion,
?2. Rabelais, Se.ond Book, c. 92.
,3. Rabclais, Se.old Book, c. ,ri Second Book, c. ?.
?4- There is a good edition of Caaton s nnglish translarion ol
Reynatul bf D. B. Sano, (Cambridge, Mass., 1960).
NOTES ON C1'IAPTER IV
15. This is hom c. ?8 oI a verse adaprarion of nqaalrl by f. S. Xllh
(London, ,891).
:6. chauce!, Nuu t Prie,'r Tdl, 33,*33,6. The poem has been
translared into unrhymed pentametq [Dgtish couplers by c. w'
Regehos under Chaucerh tide, The Boak ol Daun Bbnel the As
(Auslin,'lexas, ,qiq). The Larin t.rt has been edited, with inuG
duction and norcs, by J. H. Mozley and R. R. Raymo (Uniae$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
n..o *, c. 3; and BooL 8, "Les Temps lutuis: l'histoirc sans
,"1,1.
 Ir'O?'S ON CHAPTER IV
nrber dhn unlikely po$ibiliries.'
34. "l,ikely imporsibilities
(Aristotle, roclid rl6oart).
35. Iron an article in the I'aris rtagaznre,r'rr (r!6r).
36. 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 $as nst c].rjfied by rtrc
brilrhnr:Iadcuv Zielimti, Die Gti.detuns det attotlischen Komijdi.
(,88rr).
46. P"ntagruel contaim Parnrgc wjthin }in$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
fot thirty years, Clire Bell s Old hien.ts (New yo.t<, lqnt)
3r.
19. O. Henrl was deeplt sympatheric ro the men rvho gare him rhe
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
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
$". worli,r,,, rlF,lFdium or rr.nipp,ir.ari,", hp had ttora(es
satires in mind. (He admned Horcce, for he coineil the elegant epi.
gr"m shi, h d-, -ibF i'i\ rr',. t to,d,.i ....to,r ,4i,,a. , t-tr. bjnl;er
n."lf. rirl
ir. F\t,l'r"'n'. I'u,r. ir',ohp.i18,FitirB.
"nd irq hn"t
flight of the guests, is a huac expansion
_$uesomeot Sern. !.8: and ihc lcg,.v-
hunting 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
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,( $ro,.. uoFri. I.-,.r tr,i,:,.C I i,,hFt
', r hnAt rir,n ,'re
lo, ,nJinr. inir'A a, ui.irF murF 81or. tu\u,) or Nc,o,
rime- rh" f'FF,h .,,rol.,r l, nT" Ldr.oninn. in hi, DnJ) L.tp in
An i"nt Ron. ,,r. L\ l O. Lorir",. \Fh Hrrpn. Conn.. ;o4ol.
built heavilv on Pctronius. It lvoutd bc inrerestins r. *" o"A'
Iit" n th" U"r.J (,a.a ba.FJ p".r\ on ,\. don;ri, n ,nn"r. " or
Louis B- Ilarer d Al Capone. ID the.sdrl/t.a, the anred disgusr
ot trncolpius and his fricnds is lrequcnrlv rnderline.l: at fiNr ir;ni.
.ally-admir.tiorr saluri (r8.0), nihil anplius inreirogaui De u erer
numluam inter honestos .en (4r.5)-and trren Do.e
t.aDkl): hoDrinen ram putidum 'e (54.r), cun Asqlros . .a,d mo.e
. omnia
sublatis manibns rluderet er usque ad lacrin.s rnterct (.r?.t, ciron
.. . risum ia,n dn, comprc$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\
to rl\e jokc p.detenptin in rltj and rhc pa$age !9o.3r7 ibcluding
lhe ourageous .omparison oI the soup full of dcad flies ro the cutf
of Pahas tu1l oI lloatn,g srccks aller Leprnto-from Crporatit S,p,,
 NO?!S ON CHAPTERS IV'V
la corte. The sequel (sar. ,r), in which he loses htu way and is
ofiered a miseiable lod8ing and lively enlertainment b) a lady oI
free disposnion, is inspird in part by the episode oI Polyaenos md
circe in Petlonius, sar. rrGrlg (wlicn i actually quoted in !?9-!4q)
and in pari by the more apprdpriately sordid incident in Peronius,
Wztgb, vile Bodies, c. 8.
51.
Dt CdtC .le chez S@aa', Deuxieme Pafti€.
b5. Pronst,
56. Th€ wil€ gives her husband long curtain lectures: "mai ne'
lor lelti non si dorne' = Juvenal 6.,68 ,69 (but Boccaccio goes on
to report one of the le.tures, in fine conlersational Italian). Even
the nost charle would ralher have one eye than one nan = Jua.
6. 53 54. Wives go ofi to brothels and return '\tanche ma non sazie"
= Iuv.6.11513r. They wili not go anywher€ with their husband,
but they ale brave in lacing disgraceful adventures = Juv. 6.94-10r.
''Nothing is harder to endure than a ricn wile = luv. 6.460 (now
thougbt spurious, but betieved in Boccaccioh tine to be authentic).
They know what h done in India and SpaiD, they know the source
of the Nile, who is pregnant, everything : Juv. 6.4o,-1,e. Thet
tea.h their darghters how to rob husbands and to ieceive .iandestine
lette$ 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
6r. Swift, 43-50. The sane topic ie-
appears in Srviftr I
Sc4etilul 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
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
486.16.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.
!. In Greec€ rhere w€re satyr.plays, in which mylhical themes
were rre ed ligh'lv wirh roull'tr ot CrorP,quF,ir anJ )omdn(r. they
we'. d(tFd arrer Lhe rhree khich ecLn,omprring du.ho'r
'rd8edieq
submined. TlFv it,o have notrring rt,tever ro do ri.h carirc.
. 3. Thp pdsagp dF\(rib;ng rhrre sele qtu,0" i! I i\a 7.r. hhich
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.
4. spc. lor inqqn(p \reriuss to,at iotpr' abour rhe tivorire
pr";nsr" and Lanuvium, and
deli, a, ie, ol p.ople trom tne rowns of
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$.. 1936,
8o-8r.nd.3in'
5. 1F n;e g, on rhap'er r ot rhk book, paE. e5o.
6. Ho Ce. S.'u oz.r
'.,.?4.
7. Penius Lr !9'!3.
8. Juvenal ,.30.59 and 6a-tr.
9. Juvenal r.8!87.
ro. Juvenal r.r47,r?r.
An inr-.liqFnr (onremporan a!Lhor. paoeta Hansrord-John
',.ha\_(a,d
€n. quirr franLlv, qd.ire i:,hppl .+ rrm"lt quoFd$irh
approval by her husband C. p. Snorr in his recent S.ien;e and Gor-
d/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 $rnisr. \ome.
ri'n.. an in8;nu som..inp\ a publjc dptFr dFr. I hi! reFm) to mp ro
be a uselul cavear for readers of nafative satires, even when th€y
are aubbiographical in formr E..olpius is not petronius, and cutii_
ver is not Swi{t (alihough sonetimes he resembtes him prett.tosely).
Naturally n is true {or sarires in rhe lorm of p^rody. A.d ir is true,
' 277.
 NOTE,S ON C HAPT ER V
wirlin limitFlor nonologue srtires. Yet it lvould, in mv vicw' be BRIEF BIBI,IOGRAPHY
iliffcult !o maintain tlnt in most nonologue salires (if they arc
dtensibly spoken by the satirisi) there is oore 6.tion Lhan ttuth
Thus, tlie ;alirist olren tclls trs iacts whi.h aPPII to no olc but (t) cotqusculun Ludibundae. (11
Pacrs r.piLae Gtatcae
himselt: Pope h his prologue io the satits givcs tis addrc$ Paradia et Ar.hestmtlr, ed. P. Brandt (LeiFzig, t888)i (r)
r_ I tl lT Ii Nl,, Jr,r:b(. l-b "t P, ",rn F ard rame' I i' P "Ii' ul-r siltoyaphi, ed. C. l'achsmuth (I-eiPzig, t885')
DpraonJl lriFn l, rrd eneIri'..
qgr'n, alrl,ough sti_. r'F rlerori
An excellenr edition i,l the Greek mo.k cpic Poems, Packed
io.. eves ',r" ".J iupp,' $ anJ. nio''. \Ft r,rF ,h"roLi( rr i' ul' so tightly xith intormation that it is dim.ult to use, but in_
pora bi irs h..rc'. ,o notc rruth Lhin fl rion
" 'u'r 'nu, ' \ Iclr' B i' IP" PdrP\F' JnJ
ind to l, ir'pr'..1 o1 en rio' valuable lor special;sts.
'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 G) J. W. Duf, Rotnat' Satirc (Stthet classical Lectures P,
Berkeley, Cal., r9j6).
in.lignation, which he s2id .ould then no longer iend his heart Short and attractilcll Nritten introduclory discussion
(So ssitt, in his cpiuph.)
,tj lhi. rrl.rm"rion o,trs ''om J Nt Loh"n ' inrrodu(riun ro (3) R. C. Elliott, Thetouet ol Satite (Pr;nceton, 1960).
his nerv translarion of Rabclais (i'ensuin Books, 1955). An intclligent b L sDmelimes conlusiltg book rracing the
!i. Dryden, preface, To rhe Reader, ,4bsalotu an.l Achitophel roor. ot \.iiJ h",k o p'ini i\e ind m"liFe ir
aLin ror rn:.gi.i, jn,a, ,rion. I' P "eroniP.
idFJ n'\ LF dift, rrir
,,. RrLpld'.. l i J Boo\. , . ,'r,5 'nd !, ,r: thr id.dl Prinr,' 'prrral
to aat€pt, but X{r. Illktt wcll conrcls the violence aDd con
bariveness uhich lie telind mosr satir;c wriiing.
(a)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
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! Hudi-
L)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 intro-
duclion, 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).
.278
i
\f l