The Book in Action?

The best way to enjoy The Cokesbury Party Book, of course, is to observe one of the parties listed therein in action. I have, as yet, not been brave enough to host such a party, because my wife and I already have the reputation for being among the most boring hosts on the planet, a reputation we don't need help shaping.

But are these parties boring? I don't know. From an ironical standpoint, they're at least darned interesting.

Sinclair Lewis, in his novel Main Street, walks us through such a party -- themed similarly to parties in the Cokesbury book -- given by Carol Kennicott at her home in the village of Gopher Prarie ostensibly to shake the town's denizens out of their party mold of bringing out the same old stories, the same old gags, the same old "stunts" that they trot out at any party, much like the midly entertaining uncle we all have who tells the same stories at every party he attends and gets laughs, because everyone knows the stories and loves their uncle too much not to laugh.

So here are bits of Carol's party, taken from Chapter 7 of the book:

"We're going to do something exciting," Carol exclaimed to her new confidante, Vida Sherwin. She saw that in the growing quiet her voice had carried across the room. Nat Hicks, Ella Stowbody, and Dave Dyer were abstracted, fingers and lips slightly moving. She knew with a cold certainty that Dave was rehearsing his "stunt" about the Norwegian catching the hen, Ella running over the first lines of "An Old Sweetheart of Mine," and Nat thinking of his popular parody on Mark Antony's oration.

"But I will not have anybody use the word 'stunt' in my house," she whispered to Miss Sherwin.

The grinning Bea brought down-stairs a pile of soft thick sheets of paper with designs of lotos blossoms, dragons, apes, in cobalt and crimson and gray, and patterns of purple birds flying among sea-green trees in the valleys of Nowhere.

"These," Carol announced, "are real Chinese masquerade costumes. I got them from an importing shop in Minneapolis. You are to put them on over your clothes, and please forget that you are Minnesotans, and turn into mandarins and coolies and--and samurai (isn't it?), and anything else you can think of."

While they were shyly rustling the paper costumes she disappeared. Ten minutes after she gazed down from the stairs upon grotesquely ruddy Yankee heads above Oriental robes, and cried to them, "The Princess Winky Poo salutes her court!"

I've got to admit that the second the Princess Winky Poo saluted her court, the part of the court that represented me would have taken a quick hiatus until the entire hullabaloo was over. Especially considering what happens next:

As they looked up she caught their suspense of admiration. They saw an airy figure in trousers and coat of green brocade edged with gold; a high gold collar under a proud chin; black hair pierced with jade pins; a languid peacock fan in an out-stretched hand; eyes uplifted to a vision of pagoda towers. When she dropped her pose and smiled down she discovered Kennicott apoplectic with domestic pride--and gray Guy Pollock staring beseechingly. For a second she saw nothing in all the pink and brown mass of their faces save the hunger of the two men.

She shook off the spell and ran down. "We're going to have a real Chinese concert. Messrs. Pollock, Kennicott, and, well, Stowbody are drummers; the rest of us sing and play the fife."

The fifes were combs with tissue paper; the drums were tabourets and the sewing-table. Loren Wheeler, editor of the Dauntless, led the orchestra, with a ruler and a totally inaccurate sense of rhythm. The music was a reminiscence of tom-toms heard at circus fortune-telling tents or at the Minnesota State Fair, but the whole company pounded and puffed and whined in a sing-song, and looked rapturous.

Soooo, anyone for Trivial Pursuit? Did people really have parties like this? Is this what made Prohibition such an unattractive thing? Of course, this takes place before Prohibition, if such a thing can be imagined. Yes, it's a conservative small town. But these are educated people, especially Carol, leader of the pack.

And remember, the party has a theme. Read on:

Before they were quite tired of the concert Carol led them in a dancing procession to the dining-room, to blue bowls of chow mein, with Lichee nuts and ginger preserved in syrup.

None of them save that city-rounder Harry Haydock had heard of any Chinese dish except chop sooey. With agreeable doubt they ventured through the bamboo shoots into the golden fried noodles of the chow mein; and Dave Dyer did a not very humorous Chinese dance with Nat Hicks; and there was hubbub and contentment.

Hubbub and contentment. That's the goal of any party, right? Now remember your host here (me). I must admit the best contentment from a party thrown at our house comes when the last guest has left and I can finally sop having a good time and start enjoying myself -- reverting to my hermit ways as my own hermit wife does the same thing. Why, a few weeks ago we did have a conversation. Via chat in Facebook. And our computers sit kitty-corner to each other in the study. So we're not the partying types.

And we do go to themed parties these days. Well, themed as we allow them to get. My favorite includes the theme of Adults Play Board Games in the Basement while the Children Wander Aimlessly Upstairs, Upset Bowls of Ice Cubes and Neglect to Clean them Up. The theme is getting together. We don't have board game-themed food. Thank Heaven. What kind of food goes with "The Family Business," a card game wherein each player represents a mob family out for blood against the others?

So did they have fun at these parties, like the parties in the Cokesbury book? Evidently so. Witness what was written in The Dauntless, Gopher Prarie's paper the week following the event:

One of the most delightful social events of recent months was held Wednesday evening in the housewarming of Dr. and Mrs. Kennicott, who have completely redecorated their charming home on Poplar Street, and is now extremely nifty in modern color scheme. The doctor and his bride were at home to their numerous friends and a number of novelties in diversions were held, including a Chinese orchestra in original and genuine Oriental costumes, of which Ye Editor was leader. Dainty refreshments were served in true Oriental style, and one and all voted a delightful time.

Yee-haw.

Tomorrow, we get to the first party -- a wild celebration of the New Year that involves spelling, make-up, bound women and oysters. But not in the way you'd expect.

From the Introduction

Obviously, we can't pursue this project in a vacuum. We need to know more about this book. So here, I'll excerpt a bit from the book's preface:

This book is intended to meet a need in the social life and recreation field for an entertainment guidebook that actually plans the party. Most books of this type are merely a collection of games and stunts. One must search through them to find the games desired for any particular occasion. They require much work in the selection of material, or one must be content with a miscellaneous collection of games and stunts that are in no way related.

The parties in this book are planned around a central theme or idea, and this idea is carried throughout the evening. Most of the parties are so full that many of the games and stunts will have to be eliminated. This is done so that the social leader will have a large number of events from which to choose and may pass over those he does not wish to use. The writer is willing to guarantee that if all plans are carried out as suggested, any party in this book will furnish entertainment for two full hours. The games and stunts are arranged so that an active game is followed by a mental or quiet game. Guests at a party will very soon become bored with too many consecutive mental or active games. By interspersing them this can be overcome.

The parties are planned so that they will fit into the different seasons and months of the year. Beginning at the first of the book, the first four parties are thought to be suitable for January, the next four for February, and so throughout the book. Outdoor parties such as the Gipsy Party and Aquatic Party are planned for the summer months.

Whew. Sofar, of course, this sounds pretty conventional. A bit boring, actually. It does sound like a book that would appeal to the conservative, those worried about entertaining without wanting to offend even inadvertently. But there's more. The next two paragraphs really epitomize a rather interesting 1930s ethos -- the desire to make money at everything one does. Observe:

One will find many ideas for pay parties. Among these are: Selling the Calendar, the Circulating Pig, King Neptune's Carnival, Measuring Party, Cootie Party, Fifty Party, Hart Dice, Box Supper and Cake Walk, Street Carnival, Vanishing Party, and Minstrel Show.

The Minstrel Show, given in the concluding chapter, has been used sucessfully a number of times. Three times it has been put on by a local civic club and netted in excess of one thousand dollars at each performance. Three times parts of it have been use at Young People's Conferences as an evening's entertainment for the whole group.

Yes, minstrel shows. This is not a politically correct book and does not come from a politically correct time, as judged by this portion of the book's cover illustration. But in reading the preface, it's clear that this book is meant to present familiar material, material that will not make party attendees feel uncomfortable -- a phenomenon Sinclair Lewis would have been vary familiar with, as he satirized it through the absolute conformity of his character George Babbitt and through the character of Carol Kenicott, who fought against such "comfort" and eventually succumbed to it out of despair. The book does dare introduce new ideas, but not without another American ideal: Thorough testing and vetting for "practical value."

I should mention I do not intend this blog to be a place to mock. Rather, this will be a place to ponder the world of 1930 and make comparisons between the 1930s and today. I believe we'll find many of the attitudes remain prevalent, even among those who believe themselves to be moving into edgier material. Read on:

Many of the games used in this book are quite well known. Very likely you will find most of your favorites, with variations or in a different setting. The many new games and entertainment ideas have come from the actual experience of the author in teaching among Young People's Conferences and other work among Church and civic groups. All new material has been thoroughly tested after very careful selection for its practical value.

Tis introduction also begs the question, who is Arthur M. Depew? Luckily, his book obliges:

The author of this book, Mr. Arthur Depet, is the pastor of the First Christian Church of West Palm Beach, Florida. He is a successful pastor in planning social life programs with his own church young people. He has also had a wide experience in planning good times for civic organizations. During the past four or five years he has taught the course on Social Life and Recreation in the summer Young People's Conference at Daytona Beach, Florida. In this capacity he has had unique opportunity to enlist the active co-operation of a host of young people, and to evaluate their reactions to the program materials contained in this volume, as well as to appriase their skill in the leadership of these social life activities.

Yes, from simpler times.

So, let's have some fun. Next week, the first party: The Watch Party.

What's All This?

Say hello to the Cokesbury Party Book; published in 1932 by Abingdon Cokesbury, publishers of religious books in New York City and Nashville, compiled by Arthur M. Depew. A lucky find at the Deseret Industries Thrift Store in Rexburg, Idaho. Who knows how it got there. The DI, as we call it, typically has lots of books, a fair number of them religious and a fairer number of them of the trashy romantic novel type. Occasionally, a rare gem. It was there I found a copy of Ivy Ruckman's "Melba the Brain," a book I loved in childhood -- but this copy was signed by the author, making it even more rare. And then there's this book.

But a blog about the book?

Definitely. First of all, it's a time capsule of sorts, giving we moderns a peek into the lives of those who lived on the cusp of the Great Depression, between the great wars, during the presidencies of Herbert Hoover and Franklin Delano Roosevelt. This book was published 77 years ago. A lifetime. But it may as well be a thousand years, because the world of today resembles only marginally the world of then. Then, technology and the might of the city was only beginning; today, technology and the city, for good and evil, bring us both dream and nightmare.

There's more. I've long enjoyed the novels of Sinclair Lewis, the great Minnesotan whose novels, like those of John Steinbeck, encapsulate the formation of the United States as both a great power and a great user and abuser of men. It is in this era that the likes of Minneapolis, Cincinnati, Rochester, Buffalo, and cities of the like rose from the grasses and lakeshores to become powerhouses of manufacturing, of commerce, of education and fledgeling liberality.

And leisure. Then arose the American Leisure Class. To which this book was targeted.

There is some humor to be found in this book, humor to our modern eyes. Who, for example, would host a party themed on the life of George Washington, featuring a game in which the host hides a number of hatchets throughout the house for the guests to find, the winner finding the most hatchets? Try that today and you either worry about having an axe murderer in the midst, or someone fussy about not wanting to play with hatchets in the first place.

There is a connection to the past. In Lewis' Main Street, heroine Carol Kenicott attended many a party themed along the lines of those in the book. Even hosted one herself. And all the time felt the fool. But went along with it because that is just what you did.

So over the next year, I'll read the book and post party tips from it. Accompanied with what I hope will be humorous commentary on the elements of the tips, and why they may appear humorous -- or indeed offensive -- to our modern ways of thinking. We'll delve into the arcanity of the Mother Goose Party, Newspaper Night, College Field Day, Stunt Night, and Gipsy Night. And we'll imagine what it was like to live back then, to play back then. And think about how we play today and how people in 77 years may regard what we considered amusing.

I hope this is a fun journey. I know I'm looking forward to it.

Entering Betaland

Folks, this is going to be an experiment. I might have time this weekend to get the Cokesbury Party Blog rolling, and I might not. I think it'll be worth it, if only for people who are fascinated with the world of the 1930s, the world of Sinclair Lewis and the odd little ways in which those worlds collide with our own today. Please stay tuned.