Christopher Orr’s Funny Animal Alphabet on an Unmentionable Subject

This June a Research Grant recipient is in residence looking at alphabets in the reading room.  Not just a handful, but as many as possible—and Cotsen has literally hundreds, even thousands.  All the paging promises the fun of discovering something new in the collection.  It took a little time to chase down this print, an alphabet that also refers to Noah’s Ark, making it squarely in scope for Cotsen.  The wry contents note mentioning “excrement” written by the donor’s private librarian signaled that the print was  something out of the ordinary.

Christopher Orr's print "A-Z" (1987).

“A-Z” by Christopher Orr.

The  panel in the  lower right hand corner announces that this is the third printing of “A-Z” below a whimsically scratchy illustration of a whale swimming parallel to Noah’s ark, the animals heads hanging over the gunwhales.   Floating to the left of Noah holding his nose is the caption “Imagine what the smell there must have been,” a thought which has probably occurred to most people between the ages of four and eighty-four if they bother to think very hard about the logistics of keeping two of every species in crowded quarters for over a month.

Now look at the subjects for “A,” “B,” and “C, which are “Ant poo, Bear smells, Cat’s nasty’s.”  The merriment continues with “hedgehog pellets,” “llama lumps,” “owl do-dads, “rabbit currants” all the way to “zebra manure.”

When the print maker Chris Orr (1943-) printed the sheet in 1987, he had not been elected Royal Academician or appointed a Member of the Order of the British Empire.  His Wikipedia biography (Christopher there) soberly describes him as an “English artist and print maker who has exhibited worldwide and published over 400 limited edition prints in lithography, etching, and silkscreen” in the collections of the British Museum, the Tate and the Victoria and Albert, to name just a few.  And he has collaborated with Michael Palin on several publications. These achievements are humorously undercut with the comment:

During my thirty nine years as an artist I have been put in various pigeon-holes, such as ‘quintessential English’ or a ‘latter-day Hogarth‘. But are these epithets reasonable? My pictures are composed of well-mixed metaphors, references, allusions, jokes and descriptions. Does ‘Chris Orr-like’ refer to a typically English muddle? The tradition of graphic eccentricity (Heath Robinson, Donald McGill, Steve Bell et al.) is fair enough…

A pretty fair description of his middle-aged jeux de pee…

Cooking for Dolls in the Summertime: Marjorie Winslow’s Mud Pies and Other Recipes

L’Abecedaire des Demoiselles. 14th ed. Paris: P.C. Lehuby, 1839. (Cotsen 52908)

Today I was reading a bookseller’s  catalogue and came across an extraordinary illustration in a late edition of a popular French alphabet book, L’abecedaire des demoiselles  (Paris: P. C. Lehuby,1839; Cotsen 52908).  I ran into the stacks to see if the 14th edition had the same engraved frontispiece of a little girl entertaining her friends outdoors with an elegant repast improvised with stones.  The story “Le diner de cérémonie” tells how little Elisa welcomes her friends in a corner of the garden shaded by lilacs on a tiny table with bricks for chairs, a sheet of paper for a table cloth, and leaves for plates.  Being a proper little French  girl, she serves them slices of small brioche, wedges of apple, and sugar-coated almonds.  The author notes approvingly how generous the little hostess was without lapsing into gourmandise, a good sign for the  future.

Mud Pies and Other Recipes. New York: Macmillan Co., 1961. (Cotsen 13477)

The reason I mistook the main course for two artfully arranged stones instead of a buttery brioche was I had leapt to the conclusion that I had discovered a nineteenth-century French equivalent of Marjorie Winslow’s enchanting cookbook for dolls, Mud Pies and Other Recipes (New York: Macmillan, 1961; Cotsen 13477), which assures readers that anyone with a little imagination can prepare a backyard picnic out of few ingredients:

Doll cookery is not a very exacting art.  The time it takes to cook a casserole depends on how long your dolls are able to sit at a table without falling over.  And if a recipe calls for a cupful of something, you can use a measure cup or a teacup or a buttercup.  It doesn’t much matter.  What does matter is that you select the best ingredients available, set a fine table, and serve with style.

Dolls dote on mud, according to Mrs. Winslow, so here are some recipes for choice dishes starring that tasty and tactile ingredient.  The illustrations are by the incomparable Erik Blegvad.

(Cotsen 13477)

Pair “Mock Mud Puddle Soup” with the “Molded Moss Salad” and a “Grilled Mud Sandwich.”  For a party of vegetarians, “Leaves en Brochette” are a nice substitute for the sandwiches.

(Cotsen 13477)

(Cotsen 13477)

Little girls and dolls adore gooey desserts.  “Instant Mud Custard” couldn’t be simpler and follow it with “Dollypops,”  which are not too sweet.  Seconds would not be out of order.

(Cotsen 13477)

On a day that isn’t too hot, a good late afternoon snack would be “Pie-Throwing Pies,” an easy variation on “Mud Throwing Pies,” that can take out big brothers or pesky neighbors.

(Cotsen 13477)

We Americans may not rival the gracious hospitality for which the French are renowned, but we can show then a thing or two about outdoor cooking and dining!