When Jean Kerr settles down to explain about the ordeal of hotel living during out-of-town tryouts (the room service was so bad that a playwright sent a funeral wreath to the kitchen with a note: in memory of those who have passed away in the last 24 hours). . . or when she parodies a well-known magazine's Can This Marriage Be Saved? department in a hilarious ribbing of Lolita, it is cause for dancing in the streets. The title of this book comes for a remark made by her son one he returned home from school one day to announce in dispirited tones that he had been cast as Adam in the school lay about Adam and Eve. That's wonderful, you have the lead Jean said. Yeah, he answered glumly, but the snake has all the lines.
Jean Kerr was an American author and playwright, best known for her humorous bestseller, Please Don't Eat the Daisies, and the plays King of Hearts and Mary, Mary. She was married to drama critic Walter Kerr and was the mother of six children.
As opposed to Christopher Buckley's Wry Martinis, which 10 years later is unreadable, Jean Kerr's books make me laugh 50 years after she wrote them. Her most famous book is probably Please Don't Eat the Daisies, which was more about being a mother. But Kerr was also a successful playwright, married to drama critic Walter Kerr, and this one is more about the theater.
Hilarious book! It's a series of essays covering Ms. Kerr's life as a wife, mother, and playwright. My favorite chapters were the ones with Humbert Humbert and Lolita appearing in a "Can This Marriage Be Saved?"-type article, (a feature that is still a part of Ladies Home Journal today); and "Out of Town With a Show", where Ms. Kerr describes what happens when a playwright goes on a try-out tour for a new show. True, there are some dated references, but the book is still funny --and fun to read.
Kerr has collected a series of columns written in 1958, '59, and '60 for various magazines such as Ladies Home Journal and McCall's. Her writing is humorous and deals with subjects of motherhood, being a playwright and consumerism. Although I was not able to comprehend a lot of her pop culture references, I found this book entertaining and, for the most part, surprisingly relevant.
Very funny second collection by an important mid-century female humorist. I laughed out loud several times reading this book - my only reason for giving three stars instead of four is because a) I felt some of the humor (as with almost all humor writing) has become dated (after all, the book was published about 70 years ago) and b) it seemed to me that the collection lost some momentum towards the end, with the funniest pieces at the start. Nevertheless, this was a funny book, and one I'd definitely recommend to fans of James Thurber, Robert Benchley, Stephen Leacock and other humorists of the early- to mid-twentieth century.
This and her Please Don't Eat the Daisies were at Mother's parents' home in Oslo, Norway when we arrived there with my little brother for a summer visit. For want of anything better, I read both, as well as many back issues of The Readers Digest, before finding that some English books were available at the local library and at bookstores catering to tourists.
This book is one that I read over and over again. A favorite of mine for sure. I love Jean Kerr and her writing style. She reminds me of Erma Bombeck but is even funnier than that. I laugh every time. A must read for every mother. It is guaranteed to make you laugh.
Jean Kerr's humor is very rich. She never seemed to be writing filler to get the page count up. Her imagination was too fertile for that. Laugh after laugh after laugh. Highly recommended reading.
Kerr has a sprightly style. Despite the contemporary references being a lifetime out of date, most of the comedy still speaks to us. After all, kids still drive their parents crazy, husbands still speak a language that wives take issue with, and playwrights still find writing a maddening challenge.
This may or may not be the edition I have (mine has no dust cover). The edition I have is illustrated by Whitney Darrow, Jr.
I grant you, a lot of this stuff is very dated. It would be a public service if somebody would go through and publish a guide to the popular culture at the time. I don't think, for example, that I've ever seen more than about five minutes footage of June Allyson. (I even had to look up the spelling).
So I can't deliver on the companion volume of popular culture. But I CAN elaborate which essays are found in this book, with short elaboration. This will make it possible to figure out which of the essays are in Penny Candy, which I don't have a copy of, and another later book whose title I can't remember.
So here goes:
Notes and acknowledgements: which explains the title.
Chapter I: I was a sand crab: Not only explaining why Kerr never took her kids on an extended 'adventure' vacation, but also providing tips for those taking kids to the beach.
Chapter II: Letters of protest I never sent: But she probably should have. Though she represents such compositions as a cure for insomnia, some of them are badly needed.
Chapter III: Go, Josephine, in your flying machine: The author uses personal and anecdotal arguments to refute the statistics
Chapter IV: How to talk to a man: with various subcategories, such as 'when he's snoring'.
Chapter V: A child's garden of manners: Includes some dubious ones, like the obligation not to grab the tablecloth as you fall after tipping your chair back.
Chapter VI: As I was saying to Mrs Rockefeller (confessions of a status finder): This might be more entertaining if I'd read Vance Packard's The Status Seekers. Or not.
Chapter VII: Can this romance be saved?: It's not necessary to have read Lolita to understand this. Or the Ladies' Home Journal. But I didn't find it very funny. As I've said before, I don't care for this aspect of Kerr's work.
Chapter VIII: Tales out of school (the sanwich crisis): One of the reasons I've always liked Kerr is that she, (like me) is nocturnal. The description of the problems of making sandwiches at 1am is resonant)
Chapter IX: Out of town with a show (or what to do until the psychiatrist comes): Kerr was a fairly well-known playwright (often in collaboration with her husband). This essay contains a (fairly nonspecific) recipe for spam (the lunchmeat).
Chapter X: How to cope with bad notices: This actually deals with mildly bad, ambiguous, and even good reviews. Kerr points out that really bad notices are often a relief.
Chapter XI: The ten worst things about a man: Well, if those are the worst she's experienced, all I can say is that she's been a very lucky woman.
Chapter XII: Happy Motoring: A description of the ideal family car (and what one may have to settle for)
Chapter XIII: My Wild Irish Mother: Well, you'll just have to meet her. But, as you're unlikely to, this essay will have to do.
Chapter XIV: When I was Queen of May: Having known several very tall women, this is a familiar story to me. But to those who haven't known tall women, it's an introduction to another milieu.
Chapter XV: Mirror, mirror, on the wall (I don't want to hear one word out of you): A fairly succinct discussion of the unrealistic expectations of the cosmetics industry and other purveyors of 'beauty'.
Now I'll have to digest this, so that I can figure out what's in Penny Candy.
This author's first book ("Please Don't Eat the Daisies") was a best seller which was made into a hit movie. The impact of that book overshadowed her second book, which was published three years later. That's a shame because the follow-up book is even funnier than the first one.
Jean Kerr and Shirley Jackson were writing hilariously snarky books about their families during the 1950's and 60's and many readers thought of them as being similar, if not interchangeable. Re-reading them now, I can see funadamental differences.
Jackson presented herself as a housewife, with few mentions of her active, successful career as a writer. Kerr's stories are divided between her family life and her life as a playwright. While she's sharp and witty when she writes about her husband and children, I enjoyed the parts about her career even more. Of course, WRITING a play is a quiet, boring, solitary business. It's when the production begins that sheer insanity sets in.
I also loved her stories about her childhood and the chapter about her mother. Jackson glosses over her childhood (which was unhappy) and writes almost nothing about her mother (with whom she had a notoriously tumultuous relationship.) I find it refreshing that Kerr loved and admired her mother and didn't hesitate to say so. This required some degree of courage at a time when psychologists were insisting that anything but the most distant relationship between mother and child was unhealthy. "Smother mothering", you know.
The tale about her tossing the flower crown onto the head of the tall Virgin Mary statue (and the reaction of the stoic nuns) is one of the funniest things I've ever read. I was fascinated to read that Kerr's Irish Catholic mother was respectful of the teaching sisters, but not in awe of them. Kerr in her turn regarded the parochial school as a place to send her kids for seven hours a day, five days a week. Home-schooling? God forbid!.
Teachers today hark back to the Good Old Days, when parents revered teachers unquestioningly. I suspect it was less reverence than simple relief at getting the kids out of the house for a while. There's a difference between raising five or six children and one or two.
Kerr's stories sound like a woman who loves her husband and children, even if they do drive her crazy on a regular basis. At the same time, I admire her honesty in admitting that she enjoyed the opportunities her career gave her to have an occasional break from kids and housework. She was honest and open and not ashamed of being happy with her life. That's what makes her books so much fun.
I'm glad that her books are now appearing in Kindle editions. Some of her references may puzzle younger readers, just as the references of newer writers sometimes puzzle ME. Singers, politicians, etc come and go, but excellent humor writing is timeless.
OK, to be honest, I finally gave up on this one. There were parts that were very entertaining, but most of it was hard to get through. The humor is very dated, and it's an old book. I did find the illustrations fun to look at.
Found my diary from 1962 with a list of books read complete with ratings. Alas, no comments. This one was 2.5 stars. I know I also read Please Don't Eat the Daisies.
For some reason "Please Don't Eat the Daisies" is far better known, but "The Snake Has All the Lines" is just as good: if you like the one, you will also like the other.
Clever, witty essays made all the more interesting by the sheer fact they were written in the late 1950s. It's fun to see how both everything and nothing has changed.
This book is like a time capsule from the 1950s. As a millennial reader, it was fascinating to consider how far our society has moved away (for good and bad!) from the post-World War 2 social order. I'm sure the book was considered much more humorous when it was published. As almost everything from that time, it seems tame now.
Harmless fun. Especially enjoyable for somewhat informed fans of 1950s and 60s America.
It amazes me how relevant Jean Kerr's essays remain 60 years after the initial publication. My favorite essay in this collection is on playwriting. Kerr is describing taking a new play on the road before staging it in New York - how she has to rewrite jokes, rearrange scenes, and change lines. Finally, everyone is happy with the play and, while it's good, it's not at all what Kerr actually set out to write. That it one of the truest things I've ever read about the creative process. Kerr's essays about children and marriage are a little dated, but still largely true - true enough to be hilarious.
Reminded me of Erma Bombeck, but not quite as relatable. From the veiw point of a writer jwith a family not a wife and mother like Erma. IT was ok and funny in places. An okay read.