HOW WILLIAM STEIG ENDED THE LITERARY NOVEL

For those who don't recognize the name, William Steig was a wildly popular New Yorker cartoonist in its heyday in the 1930s. He eventually left the magazine because they were lukewarm about a new style he developed which was influenced by Picasso. After leaving he went on to develop two or three additional new styles, all good. Think about that the next time you find yourself agonizing over the perfection of just one new approach. 

Anyway, Steig had to pioneer new techniques because what he had to say was constantly evolving. The cartoons here are from his middle period when he was obsessed with the  problems brought on by middle age. 

 Youth is great, Steig seemed to say. You look good (above) and everything you do is imbued with romance and dash.

Then comes middle age, and everything you do seems like a grotesque caricature of what you used to do. Observations like this used to be reserved for long, wordy literary novels, but Steig put them into one panel cartoons. That's what I call economy! It's tempting to conclude that Steig almost single-handedly made a certain kind of long-winded novel obsolete.

People don't engage in swordfights or horse races in Steig cartoons. His work is all about the little things of life.  What he seems to be getting at is that we're all misled into believing that our lives are defined by the highlights. We think the important events are things like the big fight we had with a schoolyard bully or the day we met our lover, the day we had our first child, etc.  Actually, for Steig, those aren't the most important events at all. 

What's really important...I'm positing on his behalf...are the daily low profile events that nobody ever talks about. What's important are facts like, the fact that pizza tastes good, that your wife and neighbors can at least tolerate you, that the world is interesting, that family arguments about little things are inevitable, that your car doesn't break down too often, and that your family concedes the fact that the ratty old easy chair is yours and not the dog's.

In other words, the millions of events between the highlights are what life is really about. The handful of big super events are just punctuation.

I don't know about you, but that strikes me as profound. If life is about the little things, shouldn't we cultivate a strategy to maximize our enjoyment of them? That means being good at our job, being charming, being capable of having fun, cultivating self-discipline, being analytical....geez, it would be a long list. 

That's really all I have to say, but I can't help but throw another couple of cartoons in, even though they (below) don't fit my commentary.

Haw! A husband and wife quietly argue while walking down the street. Yikes!

Here (above) they're not arguing at all, but a third party causes grief. Boy, life can be tough!

AROUND THE WORLD WITH ORSON WELLES

Shortly after WWII Orson Welles did a show for American TV called "Around the World with Orson Welles." It was never shown here because half way into the filming Welles got a feature film okayed and he instantly abandoned his other projects. That's too bad. I saw some of it on European formatted discs at Steve Worth's house and can testify that the show was first rate.

His first subject was Basque country which straddles the border between France and Spain. Actually the Basques are neither Spanish nor French and have to put up with a pesky border check right in the middle of their land. It's okay, though...at the time Welles was there the Basques seemed to have a sense of humor about it all.    

Welles could have handled the project as a standard Lowell Thomas-type travelogue but instead he decided to focus on a couple of the people who live there. If I had Orson's job I would have picked interview subjects for their diversity: some good, some bad. Orson, on the other hand, picked only one type: people who had kind, civilized faces...people who he knew he'd enjoy talking to. What do you know? That turned out to be just the right thing to do.

He started with an American writer who lives there with her 10 year-old son. Actually she lives in the States and every two or three years takes a Summer in Basque country. She had a theory that everyone needs to escape to an alternative reality on a regular basis.

I'll add that this woman was interesting for another reason. Orson apparently charmed her into attempting to charm him. He brought out the best in her, and when she countered with a seduction of her own...which was meant for Orson...she seduced the film audience as well. Welles was smart to go after that.

But I don't want to give the impression that Welles only interviewed women.

He interviewed this guy (above), who had actually worked in Montana for a while. He was an extremely nice guy who had an admirable wife. It makes you feel good to imagine that the world contains people like that. He was a quiet man of few words but, amazingly, such a person is still capable of holding an audience's interest. How did Welles know that?

In another episode Welles set up in the kitchen of a Viennese restaurant that was famous for its pastries. Here he interviewed only one person, one of the owners. She was a rather nervous woman who had a sunny smile which frequently lapsed into something tragic. For that reason I wouldn't have chosen her for an interview subject, and once again I would have been wrong. The camera loved her!

She had one of those rare faces that seemed to reveal everything she was feeling, no matter how hard she tried to cover it up. She was a bundle of contradictions. She was alternately attracted to Welles and worried that he might do something that would hurt the business. She was vulnerable and strong, romantic yet practical. She definitely wasn't a natural-born restauranteur, yet the business she presided over continued to operate at a high level. She made it work, as G. A. Henty would say, by sheer pluck.

A fascinating subject for an interview!

BTW: a commenter speculates that the writer in the Basque village was New Yorker writer, Lillian Ross. Could that be? I wish I knew.

WORKING FOR THE RECLINER INDUSTRY

In a few months I'll be moving to a small town in the farm belt. I'll have to see what kind of work I can rustle up there. Small towns don't have much need for art. I hate to think about it, but there's half a chance that I'll end up as a salesman in a La-Z-Boy store. 

Yeah...La-Z-Boy. You probably didn't know it but La-Z-Boy's a big employer in rural America. If you don't live in a small town you probably don't realize how widespread it is. It's not just a few pushpins on an empty map....

....it's a whole doggone map full of pushpins!!!!! In case you haven't heard...La-Z-Boy is an empire! It's huge! That company owns this country!

Sure, if you live in a big city you don't need La-Z-Boy. You can buy designer furniture, and it'll be sophisticated and artistic and perfectly satisfying.

 But that's because you live in a big city. 

You can't get that stuff in the rest of America.

Yesssir....step just one inch beyond the city limit sign and you're in La-Z-boy Land!!!!!  The whole swathe of real estate between the megacities is united in the opinion that furniture design peaked in the 1960s. Fuzzy recliners still rule and any attempt to improve on them is regarded as an attack on Western Civilization.

If I get the job this (above) is what I'll be selling. These are the Coca Cola of chairs, the Mount Everests, the Plus Ultras, the Sultans of Seats. They come mainly in three fuzzy colors: Murky Rose, Ash and Dirty Powder Blue. I'm not sure but the company might also make the rounded Thrift Store-type end tables and coffee tables that always accompany the recliners.

I know what you're thinking...that Lazy Boys are prol furniture and upscale people wouldn't be caught dead with them. I don't blame you for thinking that, but you're wrong. The rural rich like La-Z-Boys every bit as much as the poor. They're just better at hiding them.

Trust me, tucked away behind the glitzy curb appeal of the country mansion is a living room packed to the gills with the workhorses of the La-Z-Boy fleet, including the magisterial train-length La-Z-Boy Sofas.

La-Z-Boys are the sentimental glue that binds Americans together and makes us an essentially classless country. All rural Americans, rich and poor, educated and uneducated, love the stuff.

Okay, I'm not being fair to the recliner people. Actually, the different recliner companies have research labs and are constantly investigating ways to update. Here's (above) a gaming recliner.

And here's (above)...what is that thing?....I'm guessing a physical fitness recliner, so you can doze off while exercising.

I'm not sure what this (above) is, either. Maybe it's a drum set for cutting edge garage bands who want to rebel and sock it to The Man while playing in sybaritic comfort. I'd better find out since I might be selling this stuff soon.

Drop by the store and identify yourself as an Uncle Eddies Theory Corner reader. Maybe I can get you a discount.

HOCKNEY LANDSCAPES

I'm not a fan of Hockney's minimalist paintings of naked guys in swimming pools, but I like the landscapes he did later in life.

I think this (above) is from Yorkshire in England. It's an example of intellect and style successfully imposed on nature. It's the way an artist organizes what he sees, and makes it pleasing.

Of course real life (above) is more chaotic and gritty. Plants fight for sunlight, grey overcast skies attempt to snuff out everything underneath...well, not really, but it can feel that way.
 

Here (above) Hockney imposes less order on what he sees. It's beautiful but kind of scary, too.

Above, one more variant. I get the feeling that Hockney has tired of this view and is looking forward to trying something else.

Here (above) we're confronted with the mystery of ordinary life. Massive predatory clouds wonder over fields of dense, complex living things. It's extraordinary and commonplace at the same time.

For comparison, here's (above) a Kandinsky showing riders galloping down a hill. I'm not surprised that so many great abstract artists had a background in landscape painting. It's the ideal subject for abstraction. Nature is full of shapes and colors that contradict and reinforce each other at the same time. It always confronts the viewer with a problem and a challenge.

ROADSIDE RUINS [EXPANDED]

Another Theory Corner architecture post: I'm always amazed when I catch a glimpse of roadside ruins (above). It's sad to think that families lived and worked in those places and were forced to abandon their homes, sometimes quickly. 

The best roadside ruins are from the 19th and early 20th centuries. I don't think most buildings more modern than that will provoke any regret when they decay.

It's pretty clear that the 19th Century was an architectural Golden Age (except for factories, which were never designed for aesthetics). People built in a more confident and congenial style then, and there was no redistributive income tax to inhibit building. 

  

All over you could find the influence of German and English Gothic. Geez, I love that style. A lot of Frank Lloyd Wright is based on it (well, that mixed with a Japanese influence).

Of course those old buildings are gone now, or if they're still standing they're candidates for the wrecking ball. It's too bad because, even in decay, they're still fascinating to look at. I'd love to spend an hour walking through the rotting hotel above, wouldn't you? I'd even pay for the experience. 

Isn't there some way to rescue these old structures? Like that crumbling hotel above; isn't there a way to make it pay for itself?  Maybe some notable historical event or crime happened there that would interest the public.  I imagine that almost every surviving building of the gaslight era was the scene of some interesting event. 

Lots of people would like to see those old buildings restored, but it's not likely to happen. It would be too expensive. They're too far gone. But, think about it...we don't have to restore them. Let them stay in the sorry state they're in.  All we have to do is provide paths of safe modern scaffolding so the visitors don't have to walk in the rubble. 

That's the way tourists are able to access otherwise dangerous caves with fragile stalagmites.

Beautiful old crumbling buildings are undeniably interesting, even when not restored. The smell of decay and the mess are part of the atmosphere. They evoke thoughts about the ephemeral nature of life, about how a true understanding of the past is almost impossible. We all live like the protagonist in the movie "Memento," unaware of what came before our time and unable to project an understanding of ourselves into the future. It's a sad thought, but an interesting one. 

I'm even interested in more recent ruins (above), but they wouldn't appeal to tourists. 

What I said about buildings goes for outdoor structures, too. The crumbling bridge above is unsafe for visitors but the addition of a narrow and sturdy walkway a couple of feet above the rotting surface might convert it into a tourist attraction. 

All over the country lots of old railroad tracks still exist in the underbrush.  Lets stop ripping them up. They're a goldmine of tourism for the community that contains them.

 Yes, remnants of old railroad trestles still exist! For Pete's sake, leave them standing!

I love the rotting wood and the moss and the rust. It would be great if a working small gauge trolley could ride through the misty forest on reinforced old rails, but that would be a big expense.

It used to be a common practice for trolley routes to end at a scenic restaurant in the forest or on a hill. A lot of those old structures still exist, decayed and covered with jungle. Let's figure out a use for them. No need to renovate...allow them to be beautiful tourist friendly ruins. Build a new restaurant nearby if one is needed.