Platoon Platitudes

Above: Political cartoon by Clifford Berryman depicting three supporters of the Neutrality Act, 1939; at right, Frank Sullivan at his favorite watering hole, the Worden Hotel in Saratoga Springs, NY. (nationalww2museum.org/digitalarchive.sspl.org)

In 1935 the American humorist Frank Sullivan introduced the “Cliche Expert” Mr. Arbuthnot to New Yorker readers, exploring a variety of bromides associated with everything from political campaigns to the legal system.

July 18, 1936 cover by **Antonio Petruccelli.**

For the July 18 issue Sullivan (1892–1976) called on Mr. Arbuthnot to explore the subject of war (Sullivan had some familiarity with the subject as a soldier in World War I). Below is the first of two excerpts from “The Cliché Expert Testifies on War” (spot drawing by Susanne Suba):

A peripheral member of the Algonquin Round Table, Sullivan wrote his first article for The New Yorker in 1925, and seven years later published his inaugural “Greetings, Friends!” Christmas poem (he would contribute forty-two of them, his last in 1974). He penned more than a dozen Mr. Arbuthnot stories from 1935 to 1952, and also introduced such characters as Aunt Sally Gallup, Martha Hepplethwaite, and the Forgotten Bach. An expert in comparative illusion, he is credited with this gem: “This is either a forgery or a damned clever original!”

Here is the second excerpt from “The Cliché Expert Testifies on War”…

In a 1967 interview with The New York Times, Sullivan remarked that the war-divided country had lost its sense of humor. “But wars have never stopped humor,” he told Alden Whitman. Sullivan maintained that the world was more lighthearted in the 1920s and 30s, despite the horrors of World War I. “It was a time of beautiful nonsense,” he said.

SAGE OF SARATOGA was the nickname conferred upon **Frank Sullivan,** who preferred the simpler life in his hometown. Top left, the small clapboard house Sullivan shared with his sister in Saratoga Springs; at right, Sullivan reading the July 9, 1966 issue of *The New Yorker*; below, an **Al Frueh** illustration topped Sullivan’s annual “Greeting Friends!” message for the Dec. 26, 1936 issue. *(algonquinroundtable.org/hillcountryobserver.com)*

Here is the cover of the July 9, 1966 issue featured above; the painting is by Charles E Martin:

A final note: After his service in World War I, Sullivan moved to New York City and wrote for several newspapers including the New York World. After the World folded in 1931, Sullivan moved back to his hometown, Saratoga Springs, where he shared a small clapboard house with his older sister, Kate Sullivan. Of his preference for small town life, he wrote: “Once I visited New York for twenty years but I wouldn’t live there if you gave me Philadelphia. A small town is the place to live. I live in a small town 180 miles from New York and while I would not say it has New York beat by a mile I would put the distance at six furlongs.”

Called the “Ultimate Freelancer,” Sullivan wrote for The New Yorker for fifty years and also contributed to the New York Times sports section, the Saturday Evening Post, and Town & Country. His work is collected in more than a half-dozen books.

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Hanging Around

In his “Notes and Comment,” E.B. White noted the speed at which the Hindenburg made its Atlantic crossing, although the giant German airship had to hover over Lakehurst, N.J. for an extra hour to wait for customs officials to get out of bed. White also mentioned a “Dr. Eckener,” a reference to Zeppelin captain Hugo Eckener (see below), who was also manager of a German aircraft company that produced the ill-fated Hindenburg.

DOOMSDAY MACHINE…The Hindenburg flies above New York City in 1936—the airship made seventeen round trips across the Atlantic in 1936—its first and only full year of service—with ten trips to the United States. The Hindenburg would famously crash and burn while docking in Lakehurst, NJ on May 6, 1937. (zeppelin-museum.de)

LOYAL TO AIRSHIPS, NOT GASBAGS…Airship innovator **Hugo Eckener** was apparently commanding the Hindenburg flight noted by E.B. White, but he was not on board when the giant airship crashed and burned the following May. A stickler for safety, Eckener was sidelined by the Nazi regime and replaced by Hitler loyalists. (Wikipedia)

White also commented on a recent evening at the movies “in the back country,” where a Clark Gable–Myrna Loy picture was playing in a makeshift theater outfitted with wooden benches.

RUSTIC RIVOLI…**E.B. White** found the silver screen a bit diluted in a “back country” theater, probably similar to the one pictured at left. He most likely took in the film *Wife vs Secretary* featuring Myrna Loy, Clark Gable and Jean Harlow. (facebook.com/MGM)

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Komrade With Kamera

Humorist Leo C. Rosten contributed numerous short fiction stories to The New Yorker as well as several “A Reporter at Large” pieces between 1936 and 1939. He published “A Shot of Lenin’s Tomb” (classified as fiction) in the July 18 issue. Two brief excerpts:

THE SOUL OF WIT…**Leo C. Rosten** (1908–1997) was an American writer and humorist in the fields of scriptwriting, storywriting, journalism, and Yiddish lexicography. Fran Lebowitz once called Rosten “the Jewish James Thurber.” Above, Rosten circa 1940s and a foggy view of Lenin’s Tomb, undated. (forward.com/tass.com)

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Crossing Over

Station wagons were first built in the 1910s as custom jobs—independent manufacturers would produce wooden bodies for the Model T chassis. These were considered “depot hacks” and commercial vehicles rather than family cars. But things changed in the 1930s as manufacturers saw their potential in the consumer market. Journalist George F.T. Ryall (pen name “Speed”), who wrote the “Motors” column for The New Yorker in the 1930s, looked in on the new automobiles that would foreshadow today’s crossovers.

IN THE FAMILY WAY…In the mid-1930s U.S. automakers began introducing a new kind of car—the station wagon. Pictured above are the 1936 Dodge Westchester Suburban (left) and the 1936 Chevrolet Carry-All Suburban. (Facebook.com/hemmings.com)

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At the Movies

The 1929 play The Green Pastures, which portrayed Old Testament stories as seen through the eyes of a young Black child, was written by playwright Marc Connelly, one of founding members of the Algonquin Round Table. The play was based on Roark Bradford’s popular 1928 story collection Ol’ Man Adam an’ His Chillun (strongly criticized over the years for its patronizing and demeaning portrayals of Black characters). Connelly, who won a Pulitzer for the play, also directed its screen adaptation, one of just six feature films in the Hollywood Studio era to feature an all-Black cast. Critic John Mosher gave the film, along two other releases, an unenthusiastic review.