Humor Tarkington, Booth: Harlequin and Columbine. v1. 29 March 2012

[GrannyGrump]

First published 1921. This short novella takes us backstage during rehearsal of new playwright Stewart Canby's painstakingly crafted masterpiece. Talbot Potter, tempermental leading man and owner of the acting company producing the play, insists on rewrites to show his character in a better light. The play is galloping away from its original premise, and Canby is panicking. Enter beautiful ingénue Wanda Malone — Potter is infatuated; Canby is smitten; even Potter's manager, old Mr. Tinker, is enchanted by her. Now Potter wants the ingénue’s rôle expanded...

A humorous tale with an unexpected ending.

----

Some excerpts:

Potter threw his manuscript upon the table, a gesture that caused the shoulders of Packer to move in a visible shudder, and the company, all eyes fixed upon the face of the star, suddenly wore the look of people watching a mysterious sealed packet from which a muffled ticking is heard.

Canby emerged from the cream-colored apartment to find the stoop-shouldered figure of the also hypocritical son leaning wearily against the wall, waiting for a delaying elevator. The attitude was not wholly devoid of pathos, to Canby’s view of it. Neither was the careworn, harried face, unharmoniously topped by a green hat so sparklingly jaunty, not only in color but in its shape and the angle of its perch, that it was outright hilarious, and, above the face of Packer, made the playwright think pityingly of a St. Patrick’s Day party holding a noisy celebration upon a hearse.

A tragic figure made its appearance upon the threshold of the inner doorway: Potter, his face set with epic woe, gloom burning in his eyes like the green fire in a tripod at a funeral of state. His plastic hair hung damp and irregular over his white brow -- a wreath upon a tombstone in the rain -- and his garment, from throat to ankle, was a dressing-gown of dead black, embroidered in purple; soiled, magnificent, awful. Beneath its midnight border were his bare ankles, final testimony to his desperate condition, for only in ultimate despair does a suffering man remove his trousers. The feet themselves were distractedly not of the tableau, being immersed in bedroom shoes of gay white fur shaped in a Romeo pattern; but this was the grimmest touch of all — the merry song of mad Ophelia.

----

This was a fast, fun read. Hope you think so too!
One frontispiece illustration. Drop caps.

This work is assumed to be in the Life+70 public domain OR the copyright holder has given specific permission for distribution. Copyright laws differ throughout the world, and it may still be under copyright in some countries. Before downloading, please check your country's copyright laws. If the book is under copyright in your country, do not download or redistribute this work.

To report a copyright violation you can contact us here.