'How Does It Go From There?'

“A lot of people claim that it does no good to cram one’s head with facts, but I hope that this little essay has proved that facts may be very fascinating things if properly assembled.” 

Even as a young man I suspected pedantry would not make me popular with the ladies. But what else did I have to offer? I could recite the capitals of all the states and the names of all the U.S. presidents (in order) and counted myself a pretty charming guy. Try telling that to one of the forty-three girls on whom I had an unrequited crush.

 

Readers of mostly forgotten humorists may recognize the tone of the sentence quoted at the top. Robert Benchley’s literary M.O. was making asinine claims with a straight face, like a painfully sincere Boy Scout. Benchley (1889-1945) was among the first “grownup” writers I read as a boy, along with Thurber and Twain. S.J. Perelman came a little later. Above I quote from “Literary Notes,” written in 1935 and collected in Chips Off the Old Benchley (1949). The piece begins, like any squib in a magazine with literary pretensions:

 

“This being the centenary of the death of Mrs. Felicia Hemans, perhaps we ought to give a thought to the Boy Who Stood on the Burning Deck, and possibly, if time remains, to the Breaking Waves Which Dashed High. Those who do not wish to join in this sport will find falcons and shuttlecocks in the Great Hall. Ask Enoch to give them to you.”

 

It’s not necessary to know that Mrs. Felicia Dorothea Hemans (1793-1835) was a real English poet, and that the two lines cited by Benchley are taken from “Casabianca” and “The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers,” respectively. At least some of Benchley’s readers ninety years ago would have gotten the allusions but would they have found “Hemans” a perfect name for a poetess? Benchley continues:

 

“Everyone knows how Mrs. Heman's famous poem begins:

 

“The boy stood on the burning deck,

Whence all but him had fled;

And this was odd, because it was

The middle of the night.

 

“The question is: How does it go from there? Darned if I know.

 

“How typical this slipshod knowledge of great literary works is! How often do we find ourselves able to recite the first four lines of a poem, and then unable to keep our eyes open any longer!”

 

No question, much of Benchley is dated. Some of his film work remains amusing. Take a look at “The Treasurer’s Report” (1928). Admittedly, my enjoyment of his writing is tinged with nostalgia because I first read him when very young. Try reading “Literary Notes” again, this time substituting, say, Adrienne Rich’s name for Mrs. Felicia Dorthea Hemans’, and see if he still has a point.