Gregory d’Alessio – A New Yorker State of Mind

Magnificently Obsessed

Above: Irene Dunn gets her head examined by Parisian doctors during a scene from the 1935 melodrama Magnificent Obsession. (letterboxd.com)

I can’t think of a better time to escape the world for a few moments and indulge in a bit of frivolity. In this case we take a brief look at a popular film that pushed the envelope of plausibility in true Hollywood style.

January 11, 1936 cover by Helen Hokinson.

Magnificent Obsession featured two of Tinseltown’s leading stars, Irene Dunn and Robert Taylor. Although many critics have called the film’s plot preposterous, it was a fan favorite—at the Radio City Music Hall premiere on Dec. 30, 1935, capacity crowds braved sub-zero weather to see it.

For a film that has been debated and discussed for decades (and remade to some acclaim in 1954 by director Douglas Sirk with Jane Wyman and Rock Hudson in the leads), critic John Mosher barely gave it a glance, feeling sorry for Dunne in her role as a tragically blinded widow.

MAGNIFICENT HAPPENSTANCE…In Magnificent Obsession, **Robert Taylor** played a spoiled playboy, Robert Merrick, who survives a boating accident at the expense of kindly doctor. Clockwise from top left, Taylor in a scene with **Margaret Brayton**; Taylor and **Irene Dunn** in the scene where Dunne’s character, Helen Hudson, is struck by a car and blinded; Dunn with child actor **Cora Susan Collins** *(who incidentally passed away in April 2025 at age 98)*; the end of the film emphasized Merrick’s transformation from a selfish playboy into a selfless, Nobel Prize-winning man of faith and science. (roberttayloractor.blog/mubi.com/rottentomatoes.com/Facebook)

A brief synopsis: Wealthy playboy Robert Merrick (Robert Taylor) drunkenly capsizes his boat. A hospital’s only pulmotor saves his life at the expense of a beloved surgeon who dies without it. Merrick falls in love with the surgeon’s widow, Helen (Irene Dunn). While driving Helen home he makes a pass at her; she exits the car and is struck by another, losing her eyesight. Merrick conceals his identity while watching over Helen; he then follows her to Paris, where she learns her sight is gone forever. Merrick reveals his identity and proposes. Helen flees. Six years later Merrick, now a Nobel Prize-winning brain surgeon, restores Helen’s sight.

In the film’s defense, plots that stretch credibility have been around since the Greeks and deus ex machina, and consider how many films today employ “portals” of various types to get heroes out of sticky situations. Unless you’re talking about a Werner Herzog film, it’s all make believe.

HANDS OFF…**John Mosher** had particular scorn for the way beloved character actor **Charles Butterworth** (left) was used in the film. Along with Dunn, Butterworth was another “victim” of *Magnificent Obsession*, according to Mosher. (IMDB)

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A Lot On His Mind

E.B. White had a lot to say in his Jan. 11 “Notes and Comment,” beginning with a paragraph about the impending merger of two Condé Nast publications, Vanity Fair and Vogue. The old Vanity Fair magazine, published from 1913 to 1936, was a casualty of the Great Depression, and it essentially disappeared with the merger (Condé Nast revived the title in 1983).

FADE OUT…At left, *Bali Beauty* by Miguel Covarrubias, on the cover of the final issue of the old *Vanity Fair* magazine, February 1936. Publisher Condé Nast merged VF with Vogue beginning with its March 1, 1936 issue (at right). *The New Yorker,* once considered a competitor of the old *Vanity Fair,* was itself acquired by Condé Nast in 1985. (vanity fair.com/vogue.com)

White also commented on a new book, The Ruling Clawss, which criticized The New Yorker for its “bourgeois attitude.” Interestingly, the book was produced by none other than New Yorker cartoonist Syd Hoff, who wrote and illustrated The Ruling Clawss as “A. Redfield,” a pseudonym he used in the 1930s for his contributions to The Daily Worker and other leftist causes.

HOFF IN A HUFF…Cover of the 1935 edition of *The Ruling Clawss;* frontispiece from a 2023 reprint of the book by *The New York Review of Books.* **Syd Hoff** (1912–2004) contributed 571 cartoons to The New Yorker between 1931 and 1975. Hoff also drew cartoons for The Daily Worker under the pseudonym “A. Redfield.” (*abebooks.com/nyrb.com)*

In The Ruling Clawss, Hoff (as Redfield) criticized “bourgeois humor” as an opiate of the masses, citing The New Yorker, Esquire, Judge, and Life as publications that take “the banker boys and politicians, who are the rapers of liberty and democracy,” and present them between perfume ads in whimsical situations. The bourgeoisie makes itself look human, wrote Hoff, “By exposing itself in the boudoir, or the night club, doing foolish things or saying something ‘funny’…In other words, the fascists and warmongers are little lambs who do their parts in contributing to the merriment of a nation.”

Referring to his fellow cartoonists, Hoff concluded: “the Arnos, Soglows, Benchleys and Cantors…are all talented and funny, but…and here, I believe, is the point…their comedy is all too often a whitewash for people and conditions that, in reality, are not funny.”

NO LAUGHING MATTER…Examples of **Syd Hoff’s** cartoons in *The Ruling Clawss. (nyrb.com)*

Today Hoff is probably best remembered for his children’s books, especially Danny and the Dinosaur. You can read all about his work at this website.

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A Different Kind of Hoff

We move on to another Hoff, namely Mardee Hoff, who was “ungrammatically selected” by the American Society of Illustrators as the possessor of the “most perfect figure in America.” Here is an excerpt from “The Talk of the Town.”

HER BODY OF WORK…**Mardee Hoff** (1914–2004) possessed the best body shape in America, according to the American Society of Illustrators following a contest involving 2,600 women at New York’s Commodore Hotel. At left, Hoff on the cover of *Life*, Oct. 21, 1940. At right, circa 1936. (findagrave.com/Reddit)

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Life With Clarence

“The Talk of the Town” noted the passing of beloved author and cartoonist Clarence Day in a lengthy tribute that highlighted his remarkable output despite crippling arthritis. Excerpts:

GOOD OLD DAYS…**Clarence Day** (1874–1935) developed crippling arthritis as a young adult, and spent the remainder of his life as a semi-invalid. Nevertheless, he churned out more than a dozen books, most famously Life With Father, a collection of stories from *The New Yorker* that were published in book form shortly after Day’s death. *The New Yorker* continued to publish Day’s stories through August 1937. Above, Day, circa 1920, and a first edition of *Life With Father.* Below, scene from the 1947 comedy film by the same name featuring **William Powell, Irene Dunn,** and **Elizabeth Taylor.** (Wikipedia/abebooks.com/IMDB)

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At the Movies

In addition to Magnificent Obsession, John Mosher endured screenings of several other pictures he could not recommend, despite featuring “talented and delightful people”…

…Mosher thought the best thing about mezzo-soprano Gladys Swarthout in Rose of the Rancho was her, um, feet…

SINGING BANDIT…**Gladys Swarthout**, a popular Metropolitan Opera mezzo-soprano, portrayed the daughter of landowner besieged by outlaws in *Rose of the Rancho.* In the film she disguises herself as a man (right) and organizes a band of vigilantes to fight the outlaws. The film was one of five produced by Paramount in the 1930s featuring Swarthout. (IMDB/swarthoutfamily.org)

…and he was frankly mystified by the Soviet Russian film Frontier, featuring lots of beards, collective farms, and a big display of airplanes at the finale…

FOR THE FATHERLAND…At left, **Aleksandr Dovzhenko** directs the Soviet film *Frontier* (aka *Aerograd*), about a remote Siberian outpost that comes under threat of attack by the Japanese. At right, **Sergey Stolyarov** portrayed the pilot Vladimir Glushak, who was filled with wondrous tales about the new city of Aerograd. The film was commissioned by Joseph Stalin. (IMDB/kinorium.com)

…English actress, dancer and singer Jessie Matthews (1907–1981) also wore the pants in First a Girl, a comedy adapted from the 1933 German film Viktor und Viktoria (which was remade as Victor/Victoria in 1982 with Julie Andrews)…

SHE/HE…At left, **Jessie Matthews** in First a Girl, a comedy adapted from the 1933 German film *Viktor und Viktoria;* right top, Matthews with **Sonny Hale;** and, at bottom, with **Griffith Jones.** Mosher called the film a “dreary affair.” (IMDB/interwarlondon.com)

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All Aboard

During the 1930s “Snow Trains” carried skiers from Manhattan to the Catskills, the Berkshires and other destinations. Railroads offered travel packages that helped popularize downhill skiing before World War II. Excerpts:

POLAR EXPRESS…A Snow Train arrives at Thendara Station full of skiers headed for the slopes and winter activities in Old Forge. Circa late 1930s. (northcountryatwork.org)

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From Our Advertisers

We take wing with Bergdorf Goodman’s stylish “Trinidad Clipper suit…

…the folks at Nash took out the center spread to tout their inexpensive yet distinguished Ambassador…

…apparently it was distinguished enough for these toffs…

…by contrast, a more spare, minimal style is seen in this ad for Schaefer beer…

…and in this ad for Bloomingdale’s…this was tricky to reproduce, the lightness of the compass against all that black ink…

…here’s a new marketing ploy from R.J. Reynolds…smoke a half a pack of their Camels, and then send back the rest if you don’t like them…I’m guessing most folks finished them off…

…Liggett & Myers kept it simple, equating smoke in your lungs with clean, crisp winter air…

…on to our cartoonists, we begin with spots by Gregory d’Alessio…

…Daniel “Alain” Brustlein…

and Christina Malman…

…Leonard Dove looked in on an owly patient…

…Alain again, seeking an elusive promotion…

…the stages of love and marriage, per George Price…

…Helen Hokinson reconvened her ladies club…

…Barbara Shermund discussed politics…

…Mary Petty considered the price of great art…

…and Petty again, at the dress shop…

…Robert Day illustrated the benefits of “how to” books…

…and we run off with James Thurber...

Next Time: A Profile in the Paint…

The Wahoo Boy

Darryl F. Zanuck (1902–1979) was an unlikely Hollywood mogul. Born in a small Nebraska town with an unusual name (both his and the town), Zanuck dropped out of school in the eighth grade, apparently bitten by the acting bug during a brief childhood sojourn in Los Angeles.

Nov. 10, 1934 cover by **Constantin Alajalov.**

In the first part of a two-part profile, Alva Johnston began to probe the mystery of the boy from Wahoo who would rise to become one of Hollywood’s most powerful studio executives.

MAKING OF A MOGUL…Clockwise, from top left: **Darryl F. Zanuck** relaxing with trophies from his hunting excursions, circa 1940 (detail from a Margaret Bourke-White photo); Zanuck’s home town, Wahoo, Nebraska, 1920s; screenshot from a trailer for *The Grapes of Wrath,* 1940; Zanuck with child star Shirley Temple (left) and his first-born daughter **Darrylin** (mother was silent-screen actress **Virginia Fox**) in the 1930s. (Robin Pineda Zanuck via *The Hollywood Reporter*/Saunders County Historical Society/Wikipedia)

Johnston took a quick look at Zanuck’s humble origins, including his first encounter with the film industry at age eight. There must have been something in the water at Wahoo, a town of just 2,100 residents when Zanuck was born. Other Wahoo notables contemporary to Zanuck included Nobel Prize laureate and geneticist George Beadle, Pulitzer Prize–winning composer Howard Hanson, and Hall of Fame baseball player Sam Crawford, among others.

After writing dozens of scripts for Warner Brothers (including many for their popular canine star, Rin Tin Tin), in 1933 Zanuck would leave Warner and form 20th Century Pictures with Joseph Schenck. By the time Johnston penned the New Yorker profile, 20th Century had risen to be the most successful independent movie studio of its time.

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One-Way Street

It goes without saying that the interwar years of the 20th century were a time of extreme foment; Bolsheviks, communists, anarchists, fascists and other political agitators seemed to be constantly at each other’s throats as Europe prepared for its second act of self-annihilation. In the middle of it all was the Balkans, its many feuds always simmering near the boiling point.

After the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in 1914 (which, along with other factors, triggered World War I), you would have thought Europeans would have abandoned the practice of parading dignitaries through crowded streets. In 1934 they were reminded of its risks.

That year was King Alexander I of Yugoslavia’s thirteenth on the throne, but his time was running short in a country constantly beset by civil war. Fearing that the German Nazis and Italian Fascists would take advantage of the instability, on Oct. 9, 1934 French Foreign Minister Louis Barthou invited Alexander I to Marseille to sign a Franco-Yugoslav solidarity agreement. While Alexander and Barthou were being slowly driven in an open car through the city’s streets, a Bulgarian gunman, Vlado Chernozemski, stepped from the crowd, hopped onto the car’s running board, and shot Alexander along with his chauffeur. Barthou also died in the melee, killed by a stray bullet fired by French police (three women and a boy in the crowd were also fatally wounded by stray police bullets). Struck down by a policeman’s sword, Chernozemski was subsequently beaten to death by the enraged crowd. It was one of the first assassinations to be captured on film.

Paris correspondent Janet Flanner offered some thoughts about the incident in her “Paris Letter.” Excerpt:

WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DAY MAKES…**King Alexander I of Yugoslavia** (left) and French Foreign Minister Louis Barthou just moments before an assassin fired two fatal shots into the king. Barthou would die an hour later from a stray police bullet that would enter his arm and sever an artery. (Still image from YouTube video)

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The Traffic Machine

In his “A Reporter at Large” column, Morris Markey sang praises for the Triborough Bridge project, which was making visible progress on the massive public work that commenced in 1930. City officials had dreamed for years about a project that would at once connect Manhattan, Queens and the Bronx, but it wasn’t until the power broker Robert Moses got involved as the Triborough Bridge and Tunnel Authority chairman that things really started to move. Moses biographer Robert Caro wrote that “Triborough was not a bridge so much as a traffic machine, the largest ever built.” A brief excerpt:

As noted by Markey, the “people in charge” were forthright about the bridge’s completion date of July 1, 1936. And they kept their word. The bridge was substantially complete by June 1936, and would be dedicated on July 11, with Moses serving as master of ceremonies.

MAKE WAY FOR THE GIANTS…City engineers had been kicking around plans since 1916 to build bridges to connect Manhattan, Queens and the Bronx, but the massive Triborough Bridge project finally got off the ground in 1930. By 1934 the bridge’s Queens tower (left) would loom over Ward’s Island, visible in the background; at right, views of buildings in Astoria (Hoyt Ave.) that were slated for demolition to make way for the bridge, photographed by Eugene de Salignac in early 1931. (*MTA Bridges and Tunnels Special Archives/NYC Municipal Archives)*

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From Our Advertisers

The common zipper was a relatively new invention in 1934. It had been more or less perfected by 1920, and in 1923 the B. F. Goodrich Company would coin the onomatopoetic word to describe the newfangled fastener on its galoshes, but it would take a while for the fashion industry to adopt the zipper as a replacement for buttons on garments, including men’s trousers. And so we get this staid-looking ad from Wetzel that signaled its entry into the brave new world of zippers (Talon was the dominant U.S. producer of zippers for many years)…

…this next ad is kind of amazing, a 1935 Auburn for only $695, which roughly translates to $15,000 or so today—still a bargain…known for cars that were fast, good-looking and expensive (and favored by Hollywood elite), Auburn struggled mightily during the Depression…along with its sister marques Duesenberg and Cord, the company would fold in 1937…

…during Prohibition distillers were allowed to keep stocks of whiskies produced before the 18th Amendment went into force…some of these were distributed through pharmacies during Prohibition for “medicinal purposes”…what was left over was sold after repeal, a stock of “pre-prohibition casks” that would be exhausted before Christmas, or so the ad rather alarmingly suggested…

…we first met tennis star Ellsworth Vines Jr a few issues ago when he was touting the health and energy benefits of Camel cigarettes…here he promotes an unlikely “stimulant”—Pabst Blue Ribbon ale…Vines testified that “the demand for more and more speed in sports calls for a finer and finer ‘edge’ of physical condition” and observed that PBR was “a great preventive of overtraining and staleness”…yep, after a few brewskies who feels like doing anything, let alone play tennis?…

…on to our cartoonists we open with a couple of spots by George Shellhase…

…and Gregory d’Alessio…

…William Crawford Galbraith gave us a fish out of water (the caption reads: You New Yorkers didn’t know we were so sophisticated in Detroit, did you?)…

…George Price still hadn’t come back to earth in his latest installment…

…Gardner Rea illustrated the results of charitable acts by the Junior League…

…and we close with James Thurber, and kindness from a stranger…

Next Time: Portraits and Prayers…

Art of the Machine

Above, at left, self-aligning ball bearing from SKF Industries, featured in MoMA's 1934 Exhibition of Machine Art; at right, judges for the exhibit were aviator Amelia Earhart and professors John Dewey and Charles R. Richards, holding first, second and third prizes, respectively. (MoMA)

The notion that machine-made objects have aesthetic value has been with us for some time, dating back to avant-garde movements of the early 20th century such as Futurism, which influenced other schools, including the Bauhaus and De Stijl. However, the idea that a museum would display a propeller or a vacuum cleaner as a work of art was startling to many in 1934.

It had been a little over twenty years since New York art patrons experienced their first shock of the new at the 1913 Armory Show. By 1929 the city had established the Museum of Modern Art, which opened the exhibition Machine Art on March 5, 1934, at MoMA’s second location—the old Barbour mansion at 11 West 53rd Street (razed in the late 1930s and replaced by today’s museum).

Novelist and art critic Robert M. Coates (1897–1973) paid a visit to the Machine Art exhibition and wrote of the experience in “The Talk of the Town.” Coates was no stranger to the avant garde, having himself embraced literary innovation and experimentation as a novelist. James Thurber is credited with bringing Coates to The New Yorker in 1927—the two became close friends—and Coates would stay forty years with the magazine. Excerpts:

EXTRAORDINARY ORDINARY…Clockwise, from top left: According to MoMA director **Alfred H. Barr,** Jr, the 1934 *Machine Art* exhibition celebrated the machine’s abstract and geometric beauty; MoMA found its second home—the Barbour mansion at 11 West 53rd Street—in 1932; sign on West 53rd advertising the exhibition; outboard propeller by Aluminum Company of America (Alcoa); collection of scientific beakers and flasks from Corning Glass Works. (MoMA)

KA-CHING!…*Machine Art* featured Model 1934 from National Cash Register; at right, Electrochef range, model B-2, designed by **Emil Piron** for Electromaster Inc. Objects featured in the exhibition were selected by noted architect **Phillip Johnson**, who was the founding chairman (1932-34) of the museum’s Department of Architecture. (MoMA)

IN A NEW LIGHT…Springs and wires took on new perspectives at the *Machine Art* exhibition. From left, the apparent first-prize winner (based on the photo of Earhart at the top of this entry)—a section of a large spring; cross-section of wire rope; and typewriter carriage and motor springs, all produced by American Steel & Wire Company, a subsidiary of US Steel. (MoMA)

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Salad Days

Swiss-American restaurateur Oscar Tschirky (1866-1943), who was known throughout the world as Oscar of the Waldorf, worked as maître d’hôtel of the Waldorf Astoria in New York City from 1893 to 1943. He is credited with having created the Waldorf salad, along with any number of cocktail recipes. “The Talk of the Town” noted his latest concoction:

WINNING OSCAR…From 1893 to 1943 **Oscar Tschirky** was the Waldorf-Astoria’s public face and a gracious host who made both the great and the not-so-great feel welcome. At left, in 1923; at right, Tschirky samples the first shipment of beer to arrive at the Waldorf-Astoria when the brew became legal again in April 1933. (Library of Congress/Karl Schriftgiesser)

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Unburdened

In the March 17 issue, writer and poet Langston Hughes (1901–1967) published the first of three fiction pieces that would appear in The New Yorker (one posthumously in 2016). In the short story “Why, You Reckon,” Hughes tells the tale of two hungry Black men who rob a rich white man by pushing him into a basement coal bin—one of the Black men takes the white man’s money, jewelry, shoes and overcoat, then rushes off, leaving his companion without any of the loot. To the companion’s surprise and befuddlement, the white man is left excited by the incident, because it is the first real thing that has happened to him. Here are the final lines of the story:

HARLEM RENAISSANCE LEADER **Langston Hughes** in a 1936 photo by **Carl Van Vechten.** A prolific writer and poet, Hughes published three short stories and three poems in *The New Yorker.* (Wikipedia)

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From Our Advertisers

New Yorker ad sales were booming, and blooming with color…we kick it off with this ad from Coty touting “3 New Boxes for Face Powder!”…so why are there four boxes in the ad?…

…the obvious answer to the question posed below would be “wealth and privilege…and youth”…the “Eleanor Roosevelt” featured in this Pond’s ad is obviously not the wife of FDR, but rather Eleanor Katherine Roosevelt, the teenaged daughter of Assistant Secretary of the Navy Henry Latrobe Roosevelt…

…speaking of the high seas, I have to admit I sigh a little when I see ads like this, obviously staged, but suggest a style of travel that is as extinct as the T. Rex…

…perhaps those folks on the boat were enjoying a splash of Perrier in their evening cocktails…

…or maybe the domestic White Rock was on ice…why is the rich old coot so much shorter than his wife?…I guess it emphasizes her relative youthfulness and her maternal obligations to a child-like older man…

…their proportions are similar to Jiggs and Maggie, but that’s another story…

…R.J. Reynolds was back with their “jangled nerves” theme on behalf of Camel cigarettes…

…maybe your tires will hold, but have you checked your brakes lately?…

…in the 1930s the anti-war organization World Peaceways ran a series of provoking ads on the artificial glories of war…some magazines, including The New Yorker, ran these ads free of charge or at reduced rates…