It just so happens that the very first of the original New Yorker cartoons offered by eBay seller Henning Fine Art in its current run of works from the estate of W. B. Park had been published with an exceedingly long caption. The words are not spoken but instead delivered in the form of a detailed minute-by-minute summary of the action in mock-documentary format. It's practically time-stamped. I recall that it sold in the same range as Park's other New Yorker originals, around $205; in other words, there was no surcharge for all the outsize prose.
8:28: Charles stood up and strode into the kitchen. Everything was in readiness. He selected a fresh piece of stone-ground whole-wheat bread and balanced it carelessly in his left had. Behind him the electric wall clock hummed quietly. The peanut butter spread easily across the bread, Charles expertly turning the knife this way and that, guiding the creamy paste around the surface. The grape jelly proved more of a challenge, but he was equal to it. At precisely 8:30, he settled back into his chair, back into his reverie, back into the doubleheader. W. B. Park Original art The New Yorker, October 3, 1988, p. 99 |
Detail, right, with W. B. Park's signature |
W. B. Park eBay listing c. mid-2024 archived on Worthpoint |
8:28: Charles stood up and strode into the kitchen. Everything was in readiness. He selected a fresh piece of stone-ground whole-wheat bread and balanced it carelessly in his left had. Behind him the electric wall clock hummed quietly. The peanut butter spread easily across the bread, Charles expertly turning the knife this way and that, guiding the creamy paste around the surface. The grape jelly proved more of a challenge, but he was equal to it. At precisely 8:30, he settled back into his chair, back into his reverie, back into the doubleheader. W. B. Park The New Yorker, October 3, 1988, p. 99 |
8:28: Charles stood up and strode into the kitchen. Everything was in readiness. He selected a fresh piece of stone-ground whole-wheat bread and balanced it carelessly in his left had. Behind him the electric wall clock hummed quietly. The peanut butter spread easily across the bread, Charles expertly turning the knife this way and that, guiding the creamy paste around the surface. The grape jelly proved more of a challenge, but he was equal to it. At precisely 8:30, he settled back into his chair, back into his reverie, back into the doubleheader. W. B. Park Original art The New Yorker, October 3, 1988, p. 99 |
Note: Here then in the archives is an original cartoon by George Booth, possibly unpublished, with another of those very long captions you've been hearing so much about.
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