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(www.biography.com)
Dorothy Parker was the sharpest wit of the Algonquin Round Table, as well as a master of short fiction and a blacklisted screenwriter.
Dorothy Parker was the sharpest wit of the Algonquin Round Table, as well as a master of short fiction and a blacklisted screenwriter.
In addition to her writing, Dorothy
Parker was a noted member of the New York literary scene in 1920s.
She formed a group called the Algonquin Round Table with writer
Robert Benchley and playwright Robert Sherwood. This artistic crowd
also included such members as The New Yorker founder Harold
Ross, comedian Harpo Marx, and playwright Edna Ferber among others.
The group took its name from its hangout—the Algonquin Hotel, but
also also known as the Vicious Circle for the number of cutting
remarks made by its members and their habit of engaging in
sharp-tongued banter.
(excerpt from an interview with Dorothy Parker by Marion Capron – www.theparisreview.org)
INTERVIEWER: That’s not showing much
respect for your fellow women, at least not the writers.
PARKER: As artists they’re not, but
as providers they’re oil wells; they gush. Norris said she never
wrote a story unless it was fun to do. I understand Ferber whistles
at her typewriter. And there was that poor sucker Flaubert rolling
around on his floor for three days looking for the right word. I’m
a feminist, and God knows I’m loyal to my sex, and you must
remember that from my very early days, when this city was scarcely
safe from buffaloes, I was in the struggle for equal rights for
women. But when we paraded through the catcalls of men and when we
chained ourselves to lampposts to try to get our equality—dear
child, we didn’t foresee those female writers. Or Clare
Boothe Luce, or Perle Mesta, or Oveta Culp Hobby.
INTERVIEWER: You have an extensive
reputation as a wit. Has this interfered, do you think, with your
acceptance as a serious writer?
PARKER: I don’t want to be classed as
a humorist. It makes me feel guilty. I’ve never read a good tough
quotable female humorist, and I never was one myself. I couldn’t do
it. A “smartcracker” they called me, and that makes me sick and
unhappy. There’s a hell of a distance between wisecracking and wit.
Wit has truth in it; wisecracking is simply calisthenics with words.
I didn’t mind so much when they were good, but for a long time
anything that was called a crack was attributed to me—and then they
got the shaggy dogs.