« Addams’ idea of a bracing day’s outing is to visit an insane asylum. He takes a kind and friendly interest in the inmates and will chat with them unselfconsciously by the hour. “They have a refreshing conversational approach,” he says. » — John Kobler
For this, the penultimate entry in this year’s Hallowe’en, I’ve reached for one of the most prized items in my collection: a book I apparently picked up for 10 dollars in the 1990s… it’s a bit hazy. It was originally given to (or by) one ‘Sadleir’ on December 25, 1950.
Coming upon the tome while browsing the general humour section, I vaguely recall being intrigued by its title, ‘Afternoon in the Attic’, and upon realising that it was illustrated by Charles Addams, the deal was sealed.
Suffice it to say that it’s also a brilliant piece of writing, a series of essays on unusual topics: the niceties of duelling, Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum, Astrologers, Paris’ Théâtre du Grand Guignol (1896-1962), Winston Churchill among the Apes, Psychic mediums, a bartending school, a family of human cannonballs, a tour of haunted New York State, and a chess-playing automaton.
Since most of you won’t make it past the paywall, here’s part of the author’s New York Times obituary:
« John Kobler, a writer whose early days on the crime beat resounded in an enduring biography of Al Capone, died on Monday in Manhattan. He was 90.
He was born in Mount Vernon, N.Y., and was a 1931 graduate of Williams College. He worked for various news organizations as a reporter before editing the crime reportage of PM, a 1940’s New York tabloid.
In World War II he was a civilian intelligence officer posted to North Africa, Italy and France, where he was attached to the United States Embassy. He returned to freelance for The New Yorker, Colliers, Vanity Fair and The Saturday Evening Post. His first book, published in 1938, was ”The Trial of Ruth Snyder and Judd Gray.’‘ It interwove trial testimony with commentary about a notorious 1927 murder case. ”Some Like It Gory” (1940) and ”Afternoon in the Attic” (1950) were collected essays about bizarre crimes and creepy characters. ”Afternoon’‘ was illustrated by Charles Addams.
He was best known for ”Capone: The Life and World of Al Capone,” a biography published in 1971 and reissued most recently in 1992 by Da Capo Press. It remains in print, as does ”Ardent Spirits: The Rise and Fall of Prohibition” (Da Capo, 1993).
He also wrote biographies about Henry Luce (1968), John Barrymore (1977) and Otto Kahn (1989), the banker and arts patron. His favorite among them was ”The Reluctant Surgeon: A Biography of John Hunter’‘ (1960), the 18th-century Scottish anatomist and precursor of modern surgery (1960). » [ source ]
For this post, I’ll stick to a single essay, the one entitled « Next Week: Murder in a Madhouse ».
« The seats in front of me were occupied by an American family — father, mother, two girls and a small boy. “I just can’t bear it,” mother was saying, “I just won’t look.” The girls were chewing their programs which bore the Grand Gignol trade mark – a bat with a man’s head. The small boy, who I felt sure was a connoisseur of American comics, sat unruffled and superior. “Kid stuff,” he snarled. “Quiet!” said father, who seemed uncertain what his proper attitude ought to be. “The curtain’s going up.”
The climax bursts with all the restraint of a fire alarm. While Hunchback and Normandy Woman pinion Louise’s arms, One-Eye goes after the cuckoo bird with a knitting needle. Blood splashes all over everybody. (“Heavens!” mother gasped, forgetting not to look.) Louise’s screams shiver the scenery.
But a super climax is yet to come. Hunchback and Normandy Woman, suddenly fearful of what they have done, turn on One-Eye and force her face down upon a hot stove where it sizzles in a jet of smoke and flame like a barbecued mutton chop…
That was enough for father. He herded his family through the exit amid the shrill protests of the small boy who did not want to miss the rest of the program. What he missed included a maniac who disembowels small boys, a woman who gets shot in the head by a gangster and, sandwiched between for comic relief, a bedroom farce with lines never intended for little pitchers to hear, all of it staged with determined realism. »
-RG
Who's Out There? 