The Editor's Uneasy Chair

A Ford of literature

Corey Ford, Vanity Fair's brilliant and handsome young humourist, has been a constant contributor to these pages since 1925. Formerly on the staff of Life and The New York Times, Mr. Ford has also contributed to The New Yorker, College Humor, The Saturday Evening Post, etc. He is the author of The Gazelle's Ears, and Salt Water Taffy. Although he has been frequently accused of being one and the same as Vanity Fair's inimitable book-reviewer and parodist, John Riddell, the information has never been confirmed in these offices. When the Editors consulted Mr. Ford for a little personal information, he sent this reply:

"It's awfully nice of you to ask me to give brief biological facts about myself, such as time and place of birth, where educated, my early experiences, favorite avocation, favorite motion picture actress, favorite men's college (except Columbia), is Prohibition a success, and do you approve of necking (yes, 146; no, 13). I'd have had it ready a long time ago; but I've been sort of stopped by that one about time and place of birth. I haven't the faintest idea. As a matter of fact, now I look back on it, I'm not even sure that it happened. Maybe I was never born at all. If by any chance I slipped up on this, a fine public laughing-stock it makes out of me now. 7 should go crawling around in rubber pants at the age of twenty-eight. No—in view of this uncertainty, I think the wise thing is to say nothing about it."

Mr. Ford is the author of Backgammon to Lose, on Page 37.

Shedding light

Julian Huxley, having recently completed a series of lectures in this country, paused long enough before sailing for his native England to write for our readers an article on What Science Doesn't Know, which appears on Page 40 of this issue. Mr. Huxley is a brother of Aldous Huxley, a frequent contributor to Vanity Fair, and the descendant of an intellectual aristocracy that has, for a century, dominated the scientific and educational development not only of England, but of the world. The famous Doctor Arnold of Rugby, his son, Matthew Arnold, and T. IJ. Huxley, the great Victorian exponent of evolution, are among Julian Huxley's notable forebears. Although he is still a young man he has made some of the most farreaching contributions to biology, natural science, and modern scientific thinking. His most recent work is The Science of Life, jointly written with H. G. Wells. Julian Huxley, also holds the world's speed record for autographing, having signed— legibly—seven hundred and fifty copies of The Science of Life in an hour and a half.

Fact framing

SIR: The person who does your nominations for Oblivion might be either pert or cruel without "framing facts."

To those who have been day by day with Rabindranath Tagore in his home, his' portraits give no appearance of "care to look like a holy man," or in any way to look any different from the way he looks ordinarily about his work and play ... and Tagore is not "chief of all the so-called mahatmas and swamis who swarm over here," whatever that means. Tagore disclaims, has always disclaimed, being a swami or holy man in any way—and has no connection with their type, and is not liked by them. There are no mahatmas "swarming" over here; there is only one man to whom that title is generally applied, and he is in jail in India. And he and Tagore, though they respect one another, neither agree nor work together.

Mr. Tagore does not "visit the United States every few years to collect a comfortable sum in lecture fees." This is only his fourth visit to America, and only on two of these visits, the first two, has he lectured "on tour," and the second of these, as his management will attest, was a financial failure.

I have heretofore enjoyed your nominations for Oblivion. I am compelled henceforth to regard them with considerable suspicion.

Chicago

UPTON CLOSE

The past and present of a futurist

Depero, who drew the sketch above, also designed the cover of this issue of Vanity Fair. He is one of the most amusing figures among modern decorative artists.

An Italian by birth, be lives in New York, frequently exhibits his work in Paris, and calls himself (quite justly) a futurista. At one time in his career as an artist, he was very interested in marionettes, and designed many of these little

A yolk's a yolk

Sir: It seems to me that the photograph, Eggs, by Paul Outerbridge, Jr., was well placed (on the reverse side of The Crusaders coupon) in the January issue of Vanity Fair. Personally, I see nothing artistic in a bowl of eggs, regardless of its location in the magazine; and, because 1 felt that the bowl of eggs detracted from the otherwise delightful contents of Vanity Fair, I cut it out with a pair of scissors.

Concurring, as I do, with your policy of joining forces with Corey Ford's Crusaders, I signed on the dotted line, which was on a coupon that backed the eggs, and mailed it post haste. In this way I not only eliminated the bowl of eggs, which jarred me, but also helped to rid this country of an abominable law, which disgusts me—all in one fell snip of the shears.

I trust that, after duly recording each application, The Crusaders will throw all of Paul Outerbridge's eggs into one basket.

New York

JACK HOYT

figures himself. lie is continually writing (in Italian) manifestos about art and life, and varies his activities of painter and sculptor by occasionally decorating Italian restaurants, and running a factory for hand-sewn Futuristic rugs in Italy.

Speaking of the Vanity Fair artists, it will interest our readers to know that Miguel Covarrubias, the famous Mexican caricaturist, has just returned from his world tour via the Orient, with a splendid portfolio of sketches in colour—some of which appear on Page 52 of this issue. Covarrubias will shortly begin the illustration of some dramatic and colourful Harlem nightlife scenes for Vanity Fair.

(Continued on page 86)

(Continued from page 31)

Alajálov, the Russian cartoonist whose Vanity Fair and New Yorker covers are so popular, did the amusing sketch in red and black on Page 63. Vanity Fair is also pleased to announce that in April and May it will introduce to its readers the work of two famous new European caricaturists—Garretto and Toño Salazar. The latter, curiously enough, although a Frenchman by birth, lived for a number of years in Mexico, where he went to school with Covarrubias.

Commander Byrd: no Icarus

SIR: In your December issue was what purported to he a biographical sketch of Admiral Byrd, by Mr. Morris Markey. Because of its air of familiarity and its novel point of view, it appeared to achieve a flavor of authenticity. But the flavor proved to he so misleading . . . that I am moved to protest. . . .

On the fragile presumption that Byrd is the Tex Rickard of exploration Mr. Markey hangs his article. Now that is wrong; no matter what else you may take away from Byrd, there is one quality in him that is impregnable—sincerity. The polar regions do not warmly nourish mere opportunism. Moreover, Byrd has been soundly trained in his vocation.

In paragraph 3 Mr. Markey says that Byrd, after a slight taste of flying, visualized his career in the larger opportunities of promotion. Whether or not he failed to become an expert pilot is debatable. He won his wings in the Navy school at Pensacola, became a member of the Crash Board and was judged competent enough to he assigned to train 100 pilots in night bombing tactics. If he had troubled to ascertain this fact, Mr. Markey must have conceded that this required a fairly high order of skill. . . .

Doubtless it is also true that Byrd has no trace of the "flying fool." But neither is he the self-pampered opportunist that Mr. Markey creates. . . . After all, Byrd holds eight Navy citations for courage. . . .

Contrary to Mr. Markey's statement in paragraph 4, Byrd had nothing to do with "hounding" Congressional Committees into appropriating a million dollars for the flight of the Navy NC boats, nor with inducing the Navy to undertake the flight. Byrd was in Canada at the time, in charge of American naval forces there, and first learned of the project when recalled to take charge cf navigational preparations. . . .

What Mr. Markey calls "the first venture in his own behalf," the Greenland (lights, was not his own at all, but wholly a Navy and National Geographic Society enterprise. Not a dollar was "wormed from citizens at large," and there was no "bow," however brief, "for Rockefeller or Ford." Contrary to Mr. Markey's statement, they put up no money. The National Geographic Society provided the funds, the Navy much of the equipment and personnel. Commander MacMillan was senior officer; Byrd was merely in charge of the Navy aviation unit, under orders. Three planes were used, not one.

Here, as before, the Rickard influence was noticeably absent.

I doubt very much whether Byrd had to search for a "key"—which Mr. Markey labels as science—to his future technique. After all, Byrd is, and has been for many years, trained in the technique of exploration and aviation, both of which happen to be, in their larger aspects, scientific. Moreover, he is a well-educated man (University of Virginia, V.M.I., Annapolis and Harvard), is of a philosophical leaning, with an intimate friend in Dr. Hocking of Harvard; and so it is conceivable that the word science carries a different meaning to him than to Mr. Markey. . . .

The polar flight did not, as Mr. Markey said, cost a million dollars. It was but one effort of the expedition; there were many others equally important. The faintest pretense at research—the guidance of a good geographer—must have convinced Mr. Markey that Byrd's flight to the eastward, to name a single example, was one of the most important reconnaissances of its kind ever undertaken. Not only was an unbroken coast line discovered, explored and extended; it was also mapped by camera. . . .

No doubt I have become concerned with certain trivial errors; but this I did for a purpose—mainly to show how thin was the research given to this study of Byrd. If he is to be belittled, surely a man of Byrd's standing is entitled to better than that. . . .

CHARLES J. V. MURPHY Mamaroneck, New York.

Mr. Charles J. V. Murphy, Vanity Fair is reliably informed, ghost-wrote Commander Byrd's book. His letter, therefore, was undoubtedly written by one in full possession of the facts.

A grand hotel

Dear Sir: I have long been a subscriber to Vanity Fair, and I wish that you would make up your minds just what the editorial policy of your magazine is. In your January issue I notice that, on page 31, under the photograph of Eugenie Leontovich, you speak of her play, Grand Hotel, as "that fine piece"; in the article on the opposite page, George Jean Nathan dismisses the same play as "an occasionally amusing but negligible cinematic account of thirty-odd hours' happenings in a Berlin Gasthaus."

I am at a loss to know which of your two comments I should accept.

(MRS.) E. L. PRINCLE

In the opinion of the editors, Grand Hotel is an exciting and interesting play which should not bore anyone. However, the columns of Vanity Fair are reserved for the comments of its contributors, of whom Mr. George Jean Nathan is one of the most popular; and it is one of Vanity Fairs most rigid editorial policies not to restrict the free expression of their opinions.