海角大神

鈥淐artoonist鈥� is unlikely to be counted among professions promising excitement or adventure. After all, those who earn their keep with pen and ink spend most days stationed at a drawing board. Cartoonists may document the passing parade 鈥� the rise and fall of politicians or the ebb and flow of cultural trends 鈥� but they seldom partake of it. Instead, they contend with such humdrum matters as the burden of deadlines and the instructions of editors.

Yet the life and work of Peter Arno (1904-1968), whose cartoons ran in The New Yorkerfor more than four decades, counters this image. He entered the world as Curtis Arnoux Peters Jr., the offspring of a New York judge father and an English 茅migr茅 mother. He received his schooling at the tony Hotchkiss School and, later, Yale University (from which he dropped out). And he was surely the only cartoonist who can be said to have starred on stage in a John Van Druten play (鈥淢ost of The Game鈥�) and appeared on screen in a Jack Benny comedy (鈥淎rtists and Models鈥�). Did we mention that he came up with the design of an automobile and was arrested for threatening a doorman at the Drake Hotel?

In Michael Maslin鈥檚 dazzling, well-illustrated biography, Peter Arno, Arno鈥檚 story is told with skill and flair. The author also makes clear that the cartoonist was regarded as sui generis by many of his colleagues, superiors, and successors. 鈥淧eter Arno tricked me into thinking that if you were a New Yorker cartoonist, you were King of New York,鈥� said cartoonist Robert Leighton, who began contributing to the magazine long after Arno鈥檚 death. 鈥淚t鈥檚 all based on one photo I saw of him in top hat and tails, probably with a showgal on each arm, walking down a New York street in the 鈥�40s.鈥�

Of course, even if Leighton had not viewed that photo, he would have had a sense of Arno鈥檚 orbit from looking through back issues of The New Yorker. Befitting his background, the cartoonist fixed his gaze on the flaws and foibles of the upper class. As Maslin recounts, Arno鈥檚 drawings depicted 鈥渉usbands and wives鈥� cat-and-mouse games, and husbands and lovers, and wives and lovers,鈥� as well as 鈥渢he battleship grande dames, the sugar daddies, the precocious young, and clueless elders.鈥�

In one representative cartoon (included in the 1979 Harper & Row collection entitled 鈥淧eter Arno鈥�), a bedraggled, belligerent, bow-tie-wearing gentleman has been arrested and is seen standing in a police station among a swarm of officers, one of whom introduces him as 鈥淢r. J. Stanhope Alderson.鈥� 鈥淗e has money, position, many influential friends, and we can鈥檛 do this to him,鈥� the cop explains, recapping, with a smile, the arrestee鈥檚 protestations. In another cartoon from the same book, a bright-eyed bride sits with her groom in a car pulling away from the church in which they have just been married. It seems that some of their vows have made a greater impression on her than the others. 鈥淛ust when do I get endowed with all thy worldly goods?鈥� she asks, eagerly.

Arno鈥檚 artwork is endlessly expressive, communicating intricacies of character with sharp, simple lines. Consider the arch of a woman鈥檚 back as she leans through a doorway to survey a gaggle of gifts or the upright posture of a pair of elderly operagoers, one of whom has failed to properly operate his hearing aid (鈥淵ou have so got it turned off!鈥�) Even small details delight, such as the light cast by a television set being watched by quarreling marrieds or the white dabs of snow surrounding a couple huddled in the woods or the outstretched arms of a wife reaching for her husband鈥檚 鈥渃onsumers鈥� research bulletins.鈥�

In fact, this book鈥檚 succession of wild real-life incidents suggests material for a potential Arno cartoon (the captions to which were frequently furnished by others, according to Maslin). In 1929, Arno brought a lawsuit against the Packard Motor Company, charging that the car he bought 鈥渃ouldn鈥檛 reach the 90-100 miles per hour as advertised.鈥� (A decade later, when Arno designed a car for the Albatross Motor Car Company, the resulting vehicle was touted for its 鈥渂eauty and overall aesthetic appeal鈥� rather than its speed per se.)

And in 1938, while married to the second of his two wives, Arno was seen holding hands with none other than Brenda Diana Duff Frazier, famously described by Lifemagazine that same year as 鈥渢he outstanding debutante鈥� for, among other qualities, 鈥渉er long hair鈥� and 鈥渉er vivacity.鈥� A biographer of Frazier is quoted as downplaying the relationship, speculating that Arno sought her company 鈥渏ust for publicity,鈥� which hardly does credit to the man.

In other ways, however, Arno was unremarkable. The cartoonist鈥檚 work routine is thoroughly detailed here, with a New York Postreporter noting in 1939 that he stayed home most Mondays because his deadline at The New Yorker fell on Tuesdays: 鈥淗e, therefore, leaves work until the last possible moment, works right straight through, smokes several packs of cigarettes and loves every moment of it.鈥� And New Yorkereditor Harold Ross is quoted in a series of simultaneously exasperated and affectionate communiques concerning everything from Arno鈥檚 tardiness at delivering cartoons (鈥淭here are various rumors around the office as to whether you will or will not do any drawings in the near future鈥�) to his requests for higher fees (鈥淗is price is $1000 a drawing, which he feels the company can pay at this time, and, in fairness, should pay鈥�).

Even so, it is obvious that Arno was nonpareil. Writer Philip Hamburger remembered encountering him at a 1952 party celebrating the start of William Shawn鈥檚 editorship at The New Yorker. The cartoonist, Hamburger said, arrived with a flask full of martinis: 鈥淗e was taking no chances on someone being stingy with the vermouth!鈥� It is only surprising that the episode did not prompt an Arno panel.

Peter Tonguette has written for The Wall Street Journal, The Weekly Standard, National Review, and many other publications.

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