Seeing Who Salutes
WE have not yet gut a Cadet Edition of Henry Miller or a Kama Sutra for the Beginning Reader, but, clap hands, for as of this publish- ing season we do have The Young Man's Guide lo Advertising, by Nicholas Fisk (Hamish Hamil- ton. I8s.). There has always been advertising, the Perceptive Mr. Fisk writes. 'Does a flower adver- Ilse, for instance? Perhaps it does, both by its scent and colour. The tail of a peacock is an advertisement. The gorilla beats his chest to advertise." FurthermOre, advertising is one of the wheels that make a capitalistic society go round. (Ask any gorilla.) Advertising, Mr. Fisk allows, Is a much-criticised, controversial career for a Young man to choose, but it has its compensa- tions. 'Advertising deals in large, sometimes immense sums of money. Much of it rubs off on
the practitioners. . . This is not to say Mr. l'isk is entirely without qualms. 'Although every- one can write,' he tells us, 'very few can write well—and even fewer can write effective copy. Perhaps the reason for this is that people who are educated or otherwise equipped to write good English are the very people least likely to be salesmen at heart.' But only a page later Mr. Fisk says of the copywriter, 'Like all advertising people, he is uninterested in the idea of starving in a garret. . . . The great novel, the deathless prose, the sublime poetry that he writes is written In the evening if it is written at all—for he has the well-supported belief that copywriting need not stand in the way of other writing. So many first-rate writers have been—or are—copy- writers.' Would Mr. Fisk care to name some?
If he can't, I can name at least one who be- lieves no audience is too young for advertising. Rupert Croft-Cooke coyly writes in the flyleaf of Tales of a Wicked Uncle (Cape, 10s. 6d.).
Now children, if you like these tales
What you should do is—help their sales
Tell every other girl and boy
That they arc certain to enjoy
Each grisly moment, and that they
Must buy their copies the same day!
The verse and invention inside are on the same trite level, nauseatingly cute, and more simpleton than simple.
Next, two new books from Roger Duvoisin, familiar characters off on new adventures. The new Veronica, Veronica goes to Petunia's Farm (Bodley Head, 12s. 6d.), with illustrations by the author, is only middling stuff. Charming, but a little on the thin side. The Happy Lion in Africa, with pictures by Duvoisin and a text by Louise Fatio (Bodley Head, 9s. 6d.), is much more fun. It can also be read as a parable for colonial expatriates. The Happy Lion, enjoying his captivity in civilised Europe, is unexpectedly returned to the African jungle. So long out of the forest, he now finds the outlandish animals there frighten him. 'Truly,' said the Happy Lion (longing for the fleshpots of Europe), 'this is not a country for a lion.' I agree.
Best book in this batch is clearly The Lion and the Rat, a fable by La Fontaine, illustrated by Brian Wildsmith (O.U.P., 15s.). The price is somewhat steep considering how quickly these books are torn, but the illustrations by Mr. Wildsmith are absolutely first-rate, and there is surely some satisfaction for all of us in the moral of the fable. `So the little rat, by patience and hard work, was able to do what the lion, in all his strength and rage, could not.'
MORDECAI RICHLER
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