The Lampoon

If potential were the mark of a good magazine, the Lampoon would at last satisfy the critics who monthly expect the publication finally to regain its legendary glory. For in the current issue J. F. Fletcher and cartoonists L. Draper Hill and P. M. Herrera display the talent necessary to revive an all-too dusty tradition of humor. But potential is not always interesting or amusing, and neither is the current issue.

It starts well--Herrera's cover, although evidently designed for Dartmouth weekend distribution, is well drawn and attracting, and the insurance advertisement parody on the inside cover is probably the funniest contribution. From there, however, the issue trails into a succession of three attempts at movie satire. The attempts satirize only themselves. The other prose rises above this level but once. Fletcher's The Ghost is somewhat ill-conceived, but nonetheless well-executed, and his style precurses a Renaissance in 'Poon wit. Any such revival, however, is stifled by the inclusion of a piece titled As Maine Goes. Evidently the editors realized that it was poor and attempted to discourage readers with a first sentence beginning: "To the average Harvard undergraduate buried beneath his books at Widener..."

While the prose still gropes in feudal gloom, the three example of verse do display a rising talent. H. B. Corning's title page swipe at football ticket distribution flows neatly, and the effect is only slightly dampened by a rather inept ending. Lack of a punchline is also the principal fault of his verse-captions for a two-page spread on football weekends. The redeeming features of these two layouts are Hill's cartoons. Another such display, Ah, Radcliffe Girl, suffers conversely; Fletcher's verse is clever and light, but most of the drawings, by J. G. Marcos, are not.

The cartoons, for the most part, are not funny. Some, however, do show a degree of sophistication and promise that has long been lacking. Herrera has contributed two fine small illustrations, one of a pet owner swearing at his parrot, the other of a novice fisherwoman. His others, though not as good, are as well-drawn. R. S. McIlwaine has contributed three cartoons, one of which is bad, and another which is worse. But on the third try, he comes up with probably the funniest cartoon in the issue, depicting the unrelentlessness of mechanical room-cleaning. The other cartoonist, G. N. Herbert, shows that he can draw a Jaguar.

The combined result, per se; is not very good, but then the first rays of dawn are not very bright. Especially after a long night.