One of the secrets to the long success Whitney Darrow Jr. ’31 enjoyed as a cartoonist and illustrator, in addition to his elegant drawing style and dry wit, was that he so resembled the people he drew. The well-educated child of a well-to-do family, an avid golfer and traveler, and a longtime resident of suburban Connecticut, he was in many ways himself one of the upper-middle-class, decent yet worldly businessmen whom he so gently but incisively satirized for almost half a century in the pages of The New Yorker. He even kept his studio for many years near the Saugatuck train station, the better to catch the train into Grand Central with his Cheever-esque neighbors...
...Long after he became successful, Darrow would carry a small sketch pad and draw people wherever he went. Whether working in New York or, later, in Connecticut, he would rise at 6 a.m., exercise, eat breakfast, and then go to his studio — invariably dressed in a sports jacket and tie. “He was the only person I’ve ever known who worked every day,” his daughter recalls. Unlike some of his colleagues, who turned the job over to an editor, Darrow also wrote the captions for his cartoons. Fellow cartoonist Henry Martin ’48 says that Darrow’s work inspired him to draw for The New Yorker, as well.
Darrow’s artistic style and humor, all the more piercing for its subtlety, proved a perfect fit for The New Yorker at mid-century and beyond. “He has an essentially benevolent view of humans,” Cooke wrote of Darrow, “and, as with Damon Runyon, even his villains ... are only pretending to be in charge; they are transparent, and they are adorable.”
The rest is here complete with cartoons.
Decent yet worldly businessmen...
I grew up in the world Whitney Darrow took aim at. While I understand why people say he had a benevolent view of humans, it isn't true. If you look closely at his cartoons of which unlike most New Yorker cartoonists, Darrow always wrote his own captions, the implications are not benevolent. The implications are right on the money too. There are very few decent yet worldy businessmen. There are even fewer decent yet worldly housewives. It is an even rarer instance to have decent and worldly in the same sentence and have the sentiment being expressed be a truthful one. The reason people want to believe Whitney's cartoons are benevolent is because his humour acts like a blind. You are so amused that all six cylinders need to be firing to be able to understand what he is saying. In some ways Whitney Darrow's style reminds me of P.G. Wodehouse.
There is a famous P.G. Wodehouse quote that graces the front page of nearly P.G. Wodehouse novel in the Peperium library:
'I believe there are two ways of writings novels. One is mine, making sort of a musical comedy without music and ignoring real life altogether; the other is going right deep down into life and not caring a damn...'
Mr. P and I have talked about this quote for years. When we first really started discussing it, we were both of the opinion that P.G. did not ignore real life. The Nephew Crusher, Madeline Basset, Lady Florence Craye and Roderick Spode are all very real people. The vicars who prattle on amused by their own intelligence, the engaged girls who demand a enormous display of affection, usually involving breaking the law, from their intended and the uncle who slips his leash to live out his fantasy of pretending he's a confidence man are really wonderful examples of common behavior in not so common circles. However, since reading Evelyn Waugh steadily since mid-October, I now more fully understand what P.G. meant about ignoring real life and about going deep down into life and not caring a damn. He is right. He doesn't do that. Evelyn Waugh did that. You can tell from P.G. Wodehouse's quote he had nothing but admiration for writers like Waugh. It takes a real man to not care a damn because the care Wodehouse is speaking of is what other people will think.
Another fellow who clearly never gave a damn of what other people thought is Saki (H. H. Munro). I've been learning about him from my old friend (literally) Enoch Soames. Last night I read a review of H. H. Munro which was one of the best pieces of writing I've read in a long time. Well, the writing is not quite as good as Waugh's or Munro's, but to be fair, whose is? The writer does demonstrate much promise and if he put some more muscle in it like a galley slave of the old school, he would catch up to Waugh and Munro. He still has enough years left in him. The review will be posted here in a few days, so as I always tell the children, keep your eagle eyes peeled...
Anyway, like Wodehouse, Whitney Darrow's cartoons created a sort of musical comedy without music. But he did not ignore real life all together. He just said it in such a genteel way, that the very people he took aim at week after week walked away very pleased with themselves.
Now that's a funny man.
Mrs. P
*Attention Roman Catholic Boys for Art and their kindred spirits. Mr. Darrow even managed to know you before you were knit together on this blog. Click on the very first link and scroll down to the 4th cartoon. It made me laugh and no doubt you'll walk away pleased with yourselves too...
Cheever-esque indeed!
Posted by: mandingo | December 13, 2006 at 03:10 PM
Apparently, Mr. Darrow was much like Tom Wolfe, an extraordinarily keen observer who described what he saw in an engaging manner that many see as merely witty and clever. Many of Wolfe's works--e.g., The Pumphouse Gang, and The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test--however, have an edge of sadness to them, a sadness at people who are wasting their time, their talents, their youth, their innocence, their futures. Mr. Darrow's cartoons certainly entertain, but, in many cases, they also carry a certain air of sadness (anger, perhaps) that something in society--even upper middle-class suburban society--has gone very, very wrong.
Posted by: Old Dominion Tory | December 13, 2006 at 03:21 PM
Yes, very Cheeveresque.
Old Dominion, you are very perceptive - you ought to review books....
Posted by: Mrs. Peperium | December 13, 2006 at 06:42 PM
Truth said in jest, and the "on the money" implications of the captions in Whitney Darrow's scenes are a key ingredient to a mystery that has dogged me since my early high school years. A quality bestowed upon the inbitants of Mr. Darrow's world and so rightly addressed by Mr. and Mrs. P places those characters and situations on a table for both immediate amusement and later consideration. It is precisely that which made another illustrator's--I believe he would prefer 'cartoonist'--work so satisfying.
I stumbled across Bill Mauldin, of Willie and Joe fame, during a read of Ernie Pyle many years ago as I attempted in vain to escape the world around me. Something about the combination of caption and circumstance spoke beyond the immediate humor of the pieces, and made the single-panel drawn world more than passing entertainment. The images and captions were more powerful and a made longer lasting impression than expected, and I have tried to put my finger on what caused the imprint. Thank you for helping me discover 'The Truth Said in Jest', and for reminding me of Mr. Darrow's world.
Dan Patterson
Arrogant Infidel
Posted by: Dan Patterson | December 13, 2006 at 09:25 PM
Books?
Posted by: Misspent | December 13, 2006 at 11:07 PM
Thank you for your compliment, Mrs. Peperium. You are quite kind.
Posted by: Old Dominion Tory | December 14, 2006 at 08:37 AM