Dorothy Parker: A Nice Dash of Paprika

In spite of her father being Jewish and her stepmother being Protestant, Dorothy attended Convent of the Blessed Sacrament, a Catholic elementary school on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. At school, she characterized the Immaculate Conception as "spontaneous combustion." She was then asked to leave and not come back.

Dorothy then attended Miss Dana's School, a "finishing school" in Morristown, New Jersey until she graduated at the age of 18 in 1913.

Buy This at Allposters.com

Dorothy supported herself by playing piano at a dancing school but she was already honing her skills as a writer and poet. In 1914, at the age of 19, she sold her first poem to Vanity Fair magazine. A few months later, she got a job as an editorial assistant at Vogue magazine where she worked for two years. It was while she was working at Vogue that she met Edwin Pond Parker II, a Wall Street stock broker. They were married in 1917, though they were separated soon after when Edwin went off to serve in World War I.

A big boost came to Parker's career in 1918 when Vanity Fair's theatre critic, P.G Wodehouse went on vacation and she was asked to fill in. Parker's caustic wit as a critic was initially well received by Vanity Fair and was very popular with her readership, but it wasn't long before her criticisms began to offend the magazine's powerful management. She was fired by Vanity Fair in 1920. Two of her good friends who were her collegues at Vanity Fair, Robert Benchley and Robert E. Sherwood, stood with her in solidarity and resigned in protest.

When The New Yorker was founded in 1925, Parker and Benchley were hired on as part of a "board of editors." Parker's first piece for the magazine was published in its second issue. She quickly became famous for her short, acerbic, humorous poems, many of which had to do with the ludicrousness of romance, while others were artful contemplations on the appeal of suicide:

By the time you swear you are his, shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is infinite and undying-
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.

and

Razors pain you;
rivers are damp;
acids stain you;
and drugs cause cramp.

Guns aren't lawful;
nooses give;
gas smells awful;
you might as well live.

Dorothy Parker at The Literati Shoppe

One of You is Lying Tee

I've Never Been a Millionaire Magnet

Keep Children Home Bumpersticker

What God Thinks of Money Bumpersticker

Take Care of the Luxuries Tee

You Can Drive a Horticulture Tee

It was during Vogue years that Parker, Benchley and Sherwood began to have lunch together at the Algonquin Hotel on a regular basis. This routine grew into the formation of what became known as The Algonquin Round Table, a casual literary social club "brat pack" that would become infamous for the hard-drinking of its members and the acerbic criticisms, sarcastic comments and practical jokes they played on each other and other writers.

(photo is in the public domain, courtesy of Wiki Commons: The founding members of Algonquin Round Table: (l-r) Art Samuels, Charlie MacArthur, Harpo Marx, Dorothy Parker and Alexander Woollcott)

The Algonquin Round Table

The Algonquin Round Table was a group of writers, critics, and actors and who met at the Algonquin Hotel in Manhattan. It began as a practical joke, the first of many that the group became known for. Drama critic, Alexander Woollcott had just returned from serving in World War I and John Peter Toohey, a theatrical press agent, organized a luncheon, ostensibly to welcome him home. In reality, Toohey was annoyed that Woolcott had refused to promote one of his clients in his column and, instead of a welcome home luncheon, the gathering turned into a spirited roast. Everyone, including Woolcott, appreciated the fun and the suggestion was made that they all meet there every day for lunch.

The group met daily for lunch between roughly 1919 and 1929. Because the members were all columnists, the wordplay and witticisms they engaged in were disseminated throughout the country. In the beginning, the group met in the Algonquin's Pergola Room (now called The Oak Room), sat at a large rectangular table and called themselves "The Board" (their gatherings were hence called "board meetings'). When they were assigned a regular waiter by the name of Luigi, they started called themselves "The Luigi Board." Later they re-dubbed themselves "The Vicious Circle," but after cartoonist Edmund Duffy of the Brooklyn Edge caricatured the group sitting around a round table with everyone wearing armor, they switched their name again to "The Algonquin Round Table." This is the name that stuck in pop culture.

Their meetings consisted of hard drinking, chain-smoking, and a passion for games, especially cribbage and poker. They also played charades (which they called simply, "The Game") and another word game they called, "I Can Give You a Sentence." In the later, a player was given a word and he or she had to use it in a sentence; the object, of course, was to be as witty and clever as possible.

These luncheons predictably inspired some of the members of the Circle to meet and collaborate creatively outside the Algonquin. While the entire group collaborated successfully only once for a revue called No Sirree! many members paired off on projects and they all benefited from the national attention the group received.

Like many social cliques, they often amused themselves at others' expense, often promoting themselves while inflicting their sarcasm on outsiders. Among their detractors were James Thurber, H.L. Mencken and Anita Loos, the latter of whom sarcastically referred to the group as "The Sophisticates." Gertrude Atherton described the group in her 1923 bestseller, Black Oxen by saying:

"They met at the sign of the Indian Chief where the cleverest of them-and those who were so excitedly sure of their cleverness that for the moment they convinced others as well as themselves-foregathered daily. There was a great deal of scintillating talk in this group of the significant books and tendencies of the day....They appraised, debated, rejected, finally placed the seal of their august approval upon a favored few."

Although his brother, Harpo was a member of the group, Groucho Marx disapproved saying, "The price of admission is a serpent's tongue and a half-concealed stiletto."

Dorothy Parker published her first volume of poetry, Enough Rope, in 1926. It was a collection of previously written and new material that sold 47,000 copies. The book received impressive, albeit somewhat mixed, reviews.

The Nation described her work as "caked with a salty humor, rough with splinters of disillusion, and tarred with a bright black authenticity" and the New York World said that Parker was "one of the most sparkling wits who express themselves through light verse."

The New York Times, however, dismissed her work as "flapper verse."

Miss Dorothy...

Buy This at Allposters.com

More Dorothy Parker at The Literati Shoppe

The Yale Prom Sweatshirt

I've Never Been a Millionaire Mug

I Require Three Things in a Man Tee

A Bottle In Front of Me Sweatshirt

No Cure For Curiosity Bumpersticker

Dorothy Parker Stickers

Dorothy Parker Profile Stickers

One of You is Lying Tee Front Version

I've Never Been a Millionaire Tee

During the 1920s, Parker traveled to Europe several times where she ran in literary circles that included Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald. These were by far the most productive years of her career. She continued to produce work that was published in prestigious magazines like The New Yorker that were well-regarded for their wit and style; however Dorothy was plagued in her personal life by severe depression and alcoholism.

Her husband returned from the war, but they later separated and Dorothy engaged in several tempestuous affairs. Her affair with playwright Charles MacArthur resulted in pregnancy and a subsequent abortion, followed by a deep depression and her first attempt at suicide. Other affairs included publisher Seward Collins, fellow Algonquinites, Robert Benchley and critic Alexander Woollcott.

Using her well-honed sarcastic wit, she said of her affair with McArthur, "How like me, to put all my eggs into one bastard."

Dorothy formally divorced her husband, Edwin in 1928.

In 1934, Dorothy married Allen Campbell, an actor with aspirations of being a screenwriter, who was 11 years her junior and a bisexual. Dorothy is known to have publically said he was "queer as a billy goat."

It was the Golden Age of Hollywood and the couple moved to Los Angeles where they both became a successful and highly paid screenwriters (although she commanded a much higher salary than he did). They both signed contracts with Paramount Pictures and later worked freelance, eventually making in excess of $5,000 per week, an enormous sum at the time. She and Campbell worked on more than 15 films, but Dorothy loathed the work, writing:

"When I dwelt in the East I had my opinion of writing for the screen. I regarded it with a sort of benevolent contempt, as one looks at the raggedy printing of a backward six-year-old. I thought it had just that much relationship to literature.

Well, I found out, and I found out hard, and found out forever. Through the sweat and the tears I shed over my first script, I saw a great truth - one of those eternal, universal truths that serve to make you feel much worse than you did when you started. And that is that no writer, whether he writes from love or from money, can condescend to what he writes. What makes it harder in screenwriting is the money he gets.

You see, it brings out the uncomfortable little thing called conscience. You aren't writing for the love of it or the art of it or whatever; you are doing a chore assigned to you by your employer and whether or not he might fire you if you did it slackly makes no matter. You've got yourself to face, and you have to live with yourself."

From 1934 to the 1950s, Dorothy and Allen divided their time between homes in West Hollywood, New York, and Bucks County, Pennsylvania, where she and Alan had a country house. Parker became an increasingly active in political causes involving civil liberties and civil rights. Her efforts got her placed on the infamous Hollywood Blacklist and the FBI compiled a 1,000-page dossier on her. She was called before the nefarious House Un-American Activities Committee in 1955. She pleaded the Fifth Amendment and, unlike many of her contemporaries, refused to implicate others.

Buy This at Allposters.com

Like all her relationships, Parker's marriage to Campbell was rocky. Parker continued to struggle with alcoholism and Campbell was involved in a long-term affair with a married woman that had begun in Europe while he was stationed there during the war. Parker and Campbell divorced in 1947, but remarried in 1950, then separated from 1952-1961. They reconciled in 1961 and worked together on several unproduced screenplays, including one for Marilyn Monroe.

In 1963, while the couple was staying at their West Hollywood home, Dorothy came home to find her husband dead. He had committed suicide by drug overdose. She returned to New York where she stayed for the rest of her life.

Dorothy Parker attempted suicide three more times in her lifetime, but all were unsuccessful. Parker died of a heart attack in her Manhattan apartment on June 7, 1967, at the age of 73.

Although she had never met the man, Dorothy bequeathed her literary estate, which includes all future publishing rights, to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. because she believed so strongly in his work striving for social justice and racial equality.

Ms. Parker named her friend, author Lillian Hellman, as her executor. She left instructions that she wanted to be cremated and did not want a funeral. Hellman honored her wished about cremation, but held a funeral anyway. By all accounts, Hellman made herself the star attraction of the event.

When Dr. King was assassinated the following year, the Parker estate was passed on to the NAACP, pursuant to Dr. King's will. Hellman bitterly contested the disposition and the case dragged on for five years during which time Hellman reportedly made a highly unsavory spectacle of herself. Hellman claimed that she should get Ms. Parker's money because Dorothy "must have been drunk when she [made out her will]." Her public rantings were highly inflammatory and brought a public backlash. Hellman eventually lost her suit and was removed as Ms. Parker's executor in 1972. The NAACP continues to collect royalties for Ms. Parker's work to this day.

In 1988, it was discovered that Hellman had failed to give the crematorium instructions as to what to do with Parker's ashes 21 years prior. The ashes were kept in a small cardboard box and had sat on a shelf at the crematorium for six years, at which time they were sent to Ms. Parker's lawyer, Paul O'Dwyer, at his Manhattan office. He put them in a filing cabinet where they remained for 15 years. When this became known, the NAACP stepped in and took possession of them. They created a memorial garden at their national headquarters in Baltimore and during a memorial ceremony held on October 20, 1988, Ms. Parker's ashes were interned there. Her epitaph reads:

Here lie the ashes of Dorothy Parker (1893-1967) Humorist, writer, critic, defender of human and civil rights. For her epitaph she suggested "Excuse My Dust". This memorial garden is dedicated to her noble spirit which celebrated the oneness of humankind, and to the bonds of everlasting friendship between black and Jewish people.

The Algonquin Hotel was designated a Historic Landmark in 1987 and a National Literary Landmark in 1996. The Algonquin Round Table helped earn the Algonquin Hotel the designation.

In 2005, Dorothy Parker's birthplace was also designated a National Literary Landmark and a bronze plaque marks the spot where the home once stood.

On August 22, 1992, the 99th anniversary of Dorothy Parker's birth, the United States Postal Service issued a 29-cent commemorative postage stamp featuring the author in its Literary Arts series.

In April of 2011, Dorothy Parker was inducted into the New York State Writer's Hall of Fame.

In her later years, Dorothy would come to denigrate the group that had brought her such early notoriety, the Algonquin Round Table:

These were no giants. Think who was writing in those days - Lardner, Fitzgerald, Faulkner and Hemingway. Those were the real giants. The Round Table was just a lot of people telling jokes and telling each other how good they were. Just a bunch of loudmouths showing off, saving their gags for days, waiting for a chance to spring them.... There was no truth in anything they said. It was the terrible day of the wisecrack, so there didn't have to be any truth ...