Bennett Cerf was one of the founders of the publishing firm Random House. Cerf was known for his compilations of jokes and stories, and for his regular appearances on the panel game show What's My Line?
Only fair. Even middling limericks are fun to read, but there were a lot of just middling poems, and some of these were honestly no good at all. There were a rare few gems, and the final page with five "beheaded" limericks was really fun, for other readers I'd suggest skipping to the last page first. The trick of spelling rhyming words so they looked more alike was occasionally clever, but seriously over-used. And I really didn't appreciate when the limerick used and abbreviation as the rhyme scheme, as it made it significantly harder to actually get any meaning from. Especially when the context didn't make clear enough what the first abbreviation was supposed to be. A GOOD limerick is incredibly hard, and incredibly satisfying. But it seems this book was published before enough of them were available yet. The editor seemed to think having words that rhymed was more important than having words that made a coherent sentence, as a significant number of them didn't even tell a short funny story, they just followed a beat. It was like watching a school choir, and spotting the one kid who didn't memorize the words, so they're just up there mouthing "watermelon" over and over hoping no one notices as long as they're in tune. So, yes, at least a majority of the poems were "in tune," and they're limericks, so it's a fast enough read to skim through for the better ones. But I won't be suggesting this one to fellow readers any time soon.
What a precious gem of a book! Cerf has awakened me once again to poetry through his beautiful collection of limericks. This book is a keeper. It is filled with oodles of limericks like these:
Said a potentate gross and despotic, "My tastes are more rich than exotic. I've always adored Making love in a Ford Because I am auto-erotic."
There was a young lady from Del. Who was most undoubtedly wel. That to dress for a masque Wasn't much of a tasque, But she cried, "What on earth will my fel.?"
Limericks may be considered childish poetry, but everyone wants childish and chuckles every once in a while. :)