Mortals & Immortals C. Caricatures C. DE Fornaro CPreface Sjf B. DE Casseres It ^T^ublished by The Hornet Publishing Company Ninety-Nine Water Street, New York^ U,S.A. Copyright igii ^ By C. DeFornaro I The Psychology of Caricature C aricature is the intelledt of art. As music, painting, and poetry are records of life con- ceived emotionally, caricature is a record of life conceived intelledually — hence satirically, paradoxically, comically. It is like an eye the retina of which holds only the ribs of aftion, the fleshless muscles of attitude. As irony is the supreme of philosophy, caricature is the supreme of art. Life begins in an Eden and ends in a Brocken of discords. The evolution of the individual mind is from belief to spite, from the naive and pasty vision of a Bernardin de Saint-Pierre to the withering sneer of an Aristophanes. The caricaturist vision is a vision from the very apex of mental development. It laughs at men with the brutal laugh of God. Its jest is as keen as that jest we call death. Like the poisonous humor of Rabelais, Cervantes, Heine, Jules Laforgue, the caricaturist carries in his soul the fatal smile. This smile is mute in Cappiello, brutal in Rouveyre, fantastic in Sem, inexorable in Fornaro and murderous in De Zayas. It is born on the frozen summit of sensibility. A sigh congealed in the blood of the brain will sparkle like a diamond — and cut like one. It is a mistake to believe that a caricaturist must necessarily draw caricatures. All those who see life as an absurdity, as something fantastic, as a stupendous Olympian jest, a sport organized by the Immanent Ennui ; all those who see life as a mixture of diabolistic humor and mystical vaudeville are caricaturists, whether their names be Shakespeare, Cervantes, Heine, Fornaro, Sem, De Zayas, or Anatole France. Every mind who faces boldly the hidden Dramaturgist of existence and trills a tra-la-la in its ear is a caricaturist. It is the crack in the Urn of Existence — this brain-chuckle. It is a poultice of ice laid over the heart of drooling sentimentality. This tragic, this bitter, this fatal smile on the lips of Caricature ! It is a strange hieroglyphic from a hidden wisdom. It is an eccentric fata morgana that plays above the graves of reputations and discrowned celebrities. It is the gibbet of all the follies and vanities of existence. It is born of the cynicism of God itself. And it is because of this that there is something of the macabre, something chilling, something frightful in all caricature. It is an art for the few, for the connoisseurs of life. It is an art from which paunchy, heavy-mammelled Complacency flees as from a genius. It is an art that the sleazy bourgeois mind looks on as a blasphemy — that bourgeois mind, eternal revenant of pre-established stupidity! Sacrosanft pig around whose trough Flaubert and Heine chanted their ironical pater- nosters ! But caricature wounds no more than nature does, and it is no crueller than life, and is not as frightful as the hypocrites’ paradise that is called the social system. The caricaturist has that touch of the Satanic in him which redeems him from the pestilential morality and sanity of the work^a-day world. He is impersonal, disenchanted, a Nietzschean. That Satanic touch which lies at the basis of his art is something akin to that cold, intelleftual smile that lago threw on the corpses of Othello and Desdemona. It gnawed at the brain of Balzac till it crumbled. It put Swift on a throne of ice. Disembodied, the Satanic spirit that fastens on the mind of the caricaturist is the spirit of Circumstance, the immutable gray eye of Fatality. It was the firefly with the wintry flame that encircled the head of Orestes and Oedipus, Napoleon and Edgar Allan Poe. It is the invisible satyr in worlds and destinies, the star in the forehead of Lucifer, the cold, bethlehemic light hovering over the manger of geniuses destined to strange Gethsemanes and pensive Calvaries. Every caricaturist was once an idealist — if not in his youth, then in some previous incarnation. For him the slow evaporation of ideals and their condensation into nebulous comic visions ; the slow massacre of brazen hopes; the murderous concussion of Will and Reality. Here is the psychological root from which is born that sadic, vengeful smile, that guffaw in hell. The Ideal — of which the caricaturist becomes the eternal enemy — is a vague clarion-call sounding from impossible summits. The sense of the ridiculous forever muffles it. Chimera is become a passionless, smiling Sphinx. The ironic, the satiric, the caricatural is the final mental concubine of the disenchanted. The oval face of Grief is at last touched to a smile by that transfiguring chrism. The legioned visions of impenitent minds cannot advance beyond that unarithmetical grin. On that tragi-comic Horeb one sees men as they are. Fornaro and His Work T he caricatures of Carlo de Fornaro are entirely different from anything we know. They are absolutely original in their method and viewpoint and refleft the person- ality of the man. There is no invention, no pose, no affedlation in his work ; it is an art that springs diredtly from the subconscious nature of the man. They reflect a manner of feeling more than a manner of thinking, which is not to say that his work is not intelleAual. The brain feels as well as thinks; it has its emotions as well as the heart. It is still an open question whether there is any such thing as thought at all. What we call a thought is merely a certain manner of feeling about a thing translated into an image or a word. Fornaro feels with his brain. His cari- catures are the record of that feeling. His work is the philosophy of the concrete. Each figure is complete in itself. Each pose is definitive, struck off firmly, positively, inexorably. Each caricature is a dogma of perception. “My truth is the truth ; there is no other truth” might stand as the metaphysical formula to base his art. He is not related to any one else. He is more Anglo-Saxon than Latin, more artistically brutal than delicate, though sometimes in some of his caricatures one catches a sly and mordant politeness deeper than the frank contempt of Sem. The evolution of his art in the last ten years has been toward a greater simplicity. With a single stroke he can focus a charaAeristic ; a single dot reveals a thought. The caricature of Theodore Roosevelt is an extraordinary piece of work, as is that of Senator Bourne. Here char- after is reduced to geometrical lines, f ornaro and Picasso have found the secret of the straight line, the poetry of logic. It is the absolutism of Spinoza applied to art. The caricatures in this book are literature. They are a record of the men of the hour. They are a composite of America. Divine the secret of these caricatures and you are at the heart of America’s secret. The soul of it all is the Praftical. And Fornaro, because he is of another people, has divined this. The United States is giving us the romance of the Real. These faces, these forms are the epiphany of the praftical, the utilitarian. Here are the Voyagers in the new Western sky, the Vikings of giant corporations, the Samsons of Wall Street, the butter-mouthed orators that make our laws and shorten our incomes. It is a saga of the West in black and white. It is real literature, great literature. The face is the palm of the mind, and Carlo de Fornaro is a palm-reader. Before the ideal — the innocent enough looking Trojan horse wherein there is secreted a savage, starving, murderous horde — he plays Merryandrew. Before the hierophants of seriousness he squats satyr-wise and pipes a merry ditty. Civilization — the great crime against nature — has perverted mirth. Puck is dead. The daily newspapers laid on one another for a single year would be a palimpsest of un- imaginable humbug. The work of Fornaro in its essence, like that of De Zayas, says Oh, go to ! It will be noticed that there are no women caricatured in this book. That is quite proper in America, for when we speak of women we are either satyrs or asses. I peered into the face of the creator of all things and I saw therein indifference over which there had come the patina of irony ; and I peered into the face of Satan and I saw therein irony over which there had come the patina of ennui; and I peered into the faces of the caricatures done by Fornaro and I saw hypocrisy over which had spread the patina of power. BENJAMIN DE CASSERES. Index of Cartoons 1 Aldrich, N. W. — Rubber money expert. 2 Bryan, W. J. — Hoodoo. 3 Belmont, Aug. — Exporter of horses. 4 Bennett, J. G. — Qiialified yachtsman. 5 Bourne, J., Jr. — President baiter. 6 Berger, V. — Trust partisan. 7 Bristow, J. L. — Authority on rubber sched- ules. 8 Cannon, J. — Cigar annex. 9 Cummins, A. B. — Bigwig on tariff. 10 Crane, VV. M. — Pussy-footed adviser. 1 1 Clark, Champ — L ong head on reciprocity. 12 Carnegie, A. — Peace and Homestead. 13 Clapp, M. E. — Ostensible Republican, 14 Cook, Dr. F. A. — Polariscoop. 1 5 Comstock, A. — Colledfor of works of art. 16 Debs, E. V. — Poet. 17 Dix, J. A. — Paper magnate. 18 Edison, T. A. — Luminary on German Art. 19 Freschi, j. j. — Solon of the Italians. zo Foss, E. N. — Ex-republican. 21 Gaynor, W. j. — Genteel letter writer. 22 Gary, E. H. — Co-operative Socialist. 23 Gold Dust Twins — E xponents of Nepot- ism. 24 Gompers, S — Friend of the Socialists. 25 Guggenheim, S. — Alaskan. 26 Herford, O. — Geographical Nestor. 27 Hearst, W. R. — Tamer of 7 'igers. 28 Harmon, J. — Successful fisherman. 29 Hill, J. J. — Tie Wizard. 30 Johnson, J. — Chauffeur. 31 Joel’s — H ome of Polygeneric theory. 32 Knox, P. C. — Political philanderer. 33 La Follette, R.M. — Expositor of Shake- speare. 34 Lorimer, W. — Order of the White Ele- phant. 35 London, J. — Philistine. 36 Morgan, J. P. — Mecenas. 37 Mayer, Hy. — Caricaturist. 38 Murphy, C. F. — Contradfor. 39 Otis, H. G. — Dynamite prophet. 40 Pulitzer, R. — Peace propagandist. 41 Powers, T. E. — Socialist. 42 Perkins, G. VV. — Acrobat. 43 Peary, R. E. — Friend of the negro. 44 PiNCHOT, G. — Back-woods-Man. 45 Ryan, T. F. — King of Diamonds. 46 Rockefeller, J. D. — Oil-Canned. 47 Roosevelt, T. — Jack the Giant Killer. 48 Root, E. — Ringmaster, 49 Ridder, H. — Leader of the German. 50 Smith, J. F. — Polygamist and Republican. 51 Sullivan, T. — A Certain Party. 52 Taft, W. H. — Tbe Political Trainer. 53 Thompson, Seton E. — Painter. 54 Underwood, O. — Bryan’s Friend. 55 Waldo, R. — Copper Head. 56 VVicKERSHAM, G. W. — Friend of Don Por- firio. 57 Wiley, Dr. W. H. — Attila of poisoned food. 58 Wilson, W. — New-Gent in politics. 59 World Staff — I'he Disinherited. 60 Watterson, Col. H. — Teddy’s Chum. OUR CANADIAN COUSINS 61 Borden, R. L. — Condensed Canadian. 62 Laurier, Sir VV. — Canada’s Prophet. SOUTH OF THE RIO GRANDE 63 Castro, C. — Skilled seaman. 64 De La Barra, F. L. — The man who has lost his Shadow. 65 Diaz, P. — Ex-Revolutionist. 66 Limantour, j. Y. — Friend of G.W.Wick- ersham. 67 Madero, F. I. — Spiritualist. 68 Reyes, Gen. B. — Mexico’s Boulanger. ^ The drawings in this book have never appeared before with the exception of the cartoon entitled: Tiuo Immortals : Diaz and Deaths which was published in the New York Call^ May 2gth^ igii. -viiikiL T^o the Memory of My Father Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2015 https://archive.org/details/mortalsinnmortalsOOforn Niv-ALDRicfi- V :ss:ssi!s;s'" I!:---'!!!* 1 vV.J. BRYAN. But I WILL aggravate riT Voice Go that (WILL Roar you AG gently AiANY SucKiNQ Dove . — ^ midsummer-ihichts dream. /\. BELMONT The Public be. ..jammed! 3 J.G. Bennett SPiRin ARE Not TInely Touch'd But To Tine issues. — Me/Wi/RE foRMEASW^E. JBOURNEJr. 5 VicToR 3ER&ER. 7 J.CANNON. CURSES, notloud but deep. 8 - MACBETH . He CALL^ — .1 ,K(H(; HENRyjI W.M.Cf^ANE. — MERKr vjives OFM/INPSoK. (T (GRIEVES M/lNV.' THE qENUEHflN IS LE/IRn'D ,/»ND/1 MOSTR/IRe SPE/\K£R. - K'NC, HENRY® 11 AKdrew CAP^NEGiie O Wonderful, womperfvl, and most wonderful wonderful! and yet again wonderful . — As Ycx/ like *T. 12 Dr.CooK. T 14 IS TRUE T IS PITY/ANP Pity T is 'TisTR'jE ;/\ fooLiSH RGuRE. — H Am LET. A.CoMiTbcK. -G,oD tempers the wind To the SHORn LAMB, 15 foRTV THoui/\ND 6R0THEf^5 COULD Not, With /^LL Their quantity or U?VE, make UPMY6UM. THws EDWon. PLAYS SUCH FANTASTIC TRICKS BeFqRE high HEAVEN' 18 \j doth appear you are a worthy Juocig,yoy kmowthe UAW. — MERCHAHT or VENICE. 19 It may wtUL ee; There is a mutiny ins Mind ~<(NCi h£NR/2!ir. 20 WJ.C.AYNOR. But IF" I PLACE MY INTEREST ON ONE SIDE, ANO VIRTUE ON THE OTVieR, THE DOCTRINE OF EPICURUS WILL STAND ITS OROUND, THAT VIRTUE IS NOTHING,, OR MERE OPINION. -EPICTETUS. 22 The Qold \>usT TwiN3. MV ELBOW iTcheO; ITHoOQHT TH6RE WOULD /S TbLLOW, — HrCM /^B©vT HcjTHiHa* THE VOICE INDEED !5THE VOICE OTj/\COD;BUTTtiE hands are the HANDS^or ESAV. ~C,ENE^SIS. J. HARmon. A 1 / 28 every mam thy ear Bvr Few thy Voice — hamuT Ml^LlKE 30 ME NOT FOR NY ^ON PL Joel's LiTeraRY corner,- once Mexican revolutionary table Pc KNOX I have been PctfTiC WITH MY TKiENP, SMOdnj wiTh Hlltfi ENEMY. — A3 too Like iT. R.M. La ToLLeIK, That, like an EAGLE in a DOV£-COTe, I TLUTTE(^Q VOUl^ VOLSCIANS iNCOf^lOU. — CoRiOLANUS. 33 w. LO 34 ALL THE perfumes of ARABIA will Not SWEETEN THIS LITTLE HAND. OH, OH, OH.' — Macbeth. 4 JACK London A Famous f^tBEL art — i Kino J.P.MOflGAN. QOETH DOi^N 11^4 ^0 THE PIT. fHoVERBS. 1. 12.. H.G.OTIS. ■^/\LPH PULITZ-Ef^. LeT Me Tell THE world, 40 —I KtNG HENRy n He use 4 HisTbLcr UKeA«>u0HQ7Hoasc anpiwpsr The PRE^EKTATtoH THfl" ME Hi^ WiT. — MYw UKC »T. 41 42 -■ Mt^CHANT OF VENICE. R.E.PEARY Trie Noble- aho true-heACTep rent BANiiHCp! rtiS OFFENCE, HoNCSTt: JD.F^Oc|JKie. CoM- D . t^.H.TAFT: 61 Sir w. LRuRieR.. South of the Rio Grande C CASTRO. His LiFe was csenTle . ^ J.caejar. 63 r Oela BARRA. my HEAOTHer PLACED A FRUITLESS CROWN, PuTA barren SCEPTT^E in MY CRIPF w A « i J.Y.LinANToi^R. & s vAA S 8 8 % \L ) t $ / 1 8 $ i j S i \ / fi s S s « 8 8 i H l/s/.T AE””n % CHASPTAFT 8 8 «ss.ss$$'a> $ % i 8 « 8 i 8 i V/ \5 8 8 1? 8 8 G-NWiCKERSHAM. 8 And I HAVE Bought Qolden opinions rROH All S0RT5 or people. — macbeth KI.MADEf^o. dare:, is the whole secret of revolutions. - STJUST. 67 Ut ME SIT HEAW ON THY SOUL TO-MORROW. ! -^KlNCi RlCHARPm 68 c w 4 -C % i ' »■ / 4 : i -A 'f