On the Shelf

Somehow the Jester got hold of a copy of the CRIMSON'S Lampoon Review and reprinted it. The CRIMSON does not know how this was done, but feels that the review's accuracy makes it worth running again anyway.

In the latest issue, the editors of the Lampoon have descended to a new low in their seventy-five years of unmitigated dullness. Even the Life-Saver joke, usually the high point of each issue, if lifeless, trite, and unfunny. The Shaefer ad is unreadable, while the Coop ad, which is generally the only reason for buying the magazine in the first place, is totally tasteless and unprovocative.

On the masthead of the Lampoon there are six literary editors. In the magazine as a whole there are approximately six pages of prose and poetry--none of it worth reading, and probably all reprints anyway. The material, in general, is an unfortunate selection of old wheezes and extravagant panegyrics upon the Lampoon. But as everyone who cares knows, the Lampoon hasn't made any money this year, or any other year for that matter, and we understand it will be shortly going out of business. The arrival of this issue will certainly finish things up.

Possibly the best piece in the May number is an essay by Merril O. Young '51 on Dr. B. F. Skinner and his trained pigeons. This should no doubt be of interest to Dr. Skinner if no one else. The style is shoddy, and the slapdash arrangements of sentences displays the typical Lampoon unfamiliarity with the basic elements of syntax. "The Cruise of the Escarole and Romaine," by Douglas B. Bunce '50 about a forty-foot pedal boat is equally badly written, but might be fairly pleasant if you owned a forty-foot pedal boat at the time. John H. Updike has flooded the issue with a number of poetic fragments varying greatly in content, but all alike in their tiresome banality. Charles C. Osborne '52 local short-distance swimmer (see CRIMSON, April 19) has contributed a totally pointless poem on men's underwear which is not much better. Least funny of all, however, are two burdensomely long long stories, one by Michael J. Arlen '52 obviously written to fill a gaping hole in the middle of the issue; another by Arlen and Thomas D. Edwards '53 can have no better end in view. They should appeal to no one.

The cartoons, like all that have appeared this year, are very bad indeed. Drawn by Bunce, Gifford, and Updyke they show a certain superficial technique, but can hardly be termed printable. In fact, that, to a great degree, is what is the matter with the stuff that appears in the Lampoon: none of it ever evokes a spontaneous "ha-ha," "ho-ho," or even a "tee-heo." The reaction of the average Lampoon reader is one of slow-boredom, gradual sleep, terminating, when he wakes up, with one of bitter disappointment.

In short, with their latest issue, the Bow Street Aviary has only proved once again what we have always maintained: that it is not, has not been, nor is ever likely to be even remotely funny. Too busy patting their own dogma, touting their own theories, the "funnymen" have come up with another turkey. The Lampoon has indeed gone a long way downhill since the days of Benchley and Williams.