Bartlett's Book of Anecdotes

by Clifton Fadiman

  4 At one time Gershwin thought of taking some lessons from Ravel in Paris, but nothing came of it. Later a story went the rounds explaining what happened. Gershwin had asked the French composer for lessons, and was answered with the question: “How much do you earn a year from your compositions?”

  “Between one hundred and two hundred thousand dollars,” replied Gershwin.

  “Then it is I who must ask you to teach me to compose.”

  5 At the end of a magnificent piano recital by a Spanish virtuoso, Gershwin’s companion turned to him and said enthusiastically, “Isn’t he great, George?”

  “Yes, he’s a genius,” agreed the composer. “A Spanish Gershwin.”

  GERSHWIN, Ira (1896–1983), US lyric writer. He collaborated with his brother, George Gershwin, on a number of the latter’s songs and musical comedies.

  1 Gershwin was a keen poker player, but very unlucky. After a particularly disastrous evening, he announced to his friends: “I take an oath. I’ll never pick up a card again.” After a moment’s pause, he added, “Unless, of course, I have guests who want to play.… Or unless I am a guest in another man’s house.” He paused again. “Or whatever circumstances arise.”

  GESVRES, Bernard François Potier, Marquis de (1655–1739), French aristocrat and courtier.

  1 (The diarist Saint-Simon records a blunder made by the marquis.)

  “In the king’s apartments one day, he was holding forth in praise and criticism of the fine pictures there. Pointing to several Crucifixions by great masters, he maintained that they had all been painted by the same artist. People began to mock him, pointing out the various painters and how they might be recognized by their personal styles. ‘Nonsense,’ exclaimed the marquis, ‘The painter of all of them was called “INRI,” cannot you read his signature?’ You may imagine the silence that followed this gross blunder, and what became of the ignoramus.”

  GETTY, J[ean] Paul (1892–1976), US oil executive and art collector.

  1 Getty once received a request from a magazine for a short article explaining his success. A check for two hundred pounds was enclosed. The multimillionaire obligingly wrote: “Some people find oil. Others don’t.”

  2 A newspaper reporter once asked Getty if it were true that the value of his holdings, at that time, amounted to a billion dollars. Getty was silent for a minute or two. “I suppose so,” he replied thoughtfully. “But remember, a billion dollars doesn’t go as far as it used to.”

  GHIBERTI, Lorenzo (c. 1378–1455), Italian Renaissance sculptor and goldsmith.

  1 Awarded the commission for the baptistry doors of the Duomo in Florence in 1402, Ghiberti spent most of the rest of his life working on them. When he saw them, Michelangelo exclaimed, “These designs are worthy to adorn the gates of paradise.”

  GIAMATTI, A. Bartlett (1938–89), US academic and baseball executive.

  1 The baseball commissioner’s most controversial action was to ban legend Pete Rose from baseball for life for betting on the game. Said Giamatti about his decision, “People will say I’m an idealist. I hope so.”

  GIAMPETRO, Joseph (1866–1913), German actor, born in Vienna.

  1 Elegant and accomplished, Giampetro was an indefatigable Don Juan. A friend, encountering him in a coffeehouse looking somewhat worried and holding a letter in his hands, asked sympathetically if he had received bad news. “No,” was the reply, “but the sender of this letter says that he will strangle me if I keep on paying attention to his wife.” “Well,” advised the friend, “I’d lay off the lady, if I were you.”

  “But which lady?” cried Giampetro. “The damn letter is anonymous.”

  GIBBON, Edward (1737–94), British historian. He is remembered for his epic and ironic treatment of Christianity in The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.

  1 When Gibbon was staying in Lausanne in 1757, he met and fell in love with an accomplished and beautiful French girl, Suzanne Curchod. He was invited to her home, and had some hopes that she would agree to marry him. However, when he raised the subject with his father, Gibbon senior emphatically refused to agree to allow his son to marry a foreigner. Destitute without his father’s consent to the match, Gibbon gave up his love, later writing, “After a painful struggle I yielded to my fate: I sighed as a lover, I obeyed as a son.”

  2 Gibbon’s ventures in the direction of matrimony were ill-fated. In middle age he wooed Lady Elizabeth Foster, who at the time was governess in the Duke of Devonshire’s family. On an occasion when Gibbon was engaging the lady in close conversation, one of his rivals, a French doctor, could not contain his irritation: “Quand mi lady Elizabeth Foster sera malade de vos fadaises, je la guérirai” (When my lady Elizabeth Foster becomes sick of your nonsense, I shall cure her). Gibbon’s riposte was: “Quand mi lady Elizabeth Foster sera morte de vos recettes, je l’immor-taliserai” (When my lady Elizabeth Foster dies from your prescriptions, I shall immortalize her).

  3 William, Duke of Gloucester, brother of King George III, permitted Gibbon to present him with the first volume of The Decline and Fall. When the second volume appeared in 1781, Gibbon not unnaturally sought an audience with the prince to present him with a copy. He was received affably. “Another damned, thick, square book!” said the prince. “Always scribble, scribble, scribble! Eh! Mr. Gibbon?”

  “Clientelismo [patronage] offers the only safety, and the one sin Naples inevitably punishes is ambition. Some years ago, a mille-mestieri nicknamed Giovanni the Immortal made a good economic thing out of stepping in front of moving automobiles. He survived twenty-six accidents and was regarded as something of a local hero in his vicolo because he not only supported his family by sticking the insurance companies but also provided an income for the neighborhood cronies who inevitably testified in court on his behalf. The day inevitably came when he misjudged a car’s speed and was fatally run over on the Via del Duomo. At his funeral, a reporter for a local television program asked one of the mourners, an old man who had been a frequent witness at Giovanni’s court appearances, how he felt about his benefactor’s demise. The old man shrugged and said, ‘This time he exaggerated.’ ”

  — WILLIAM MURRAY,

  Italy: The Fatal Gift

  GIBBONS, Euell (1911–75), US botanist and writer.

  1 The authority on wild foods came by his interest the hard way. As a boy his father, looking for work, left his broke and starving family to fend for themselves in New Mexico. When they had only a few pinto beans left, Gibbons walked up into the mountains and returned with his knapsack full of mushrooms and prickly-pear fruit. The foraged food lasted the family a month. After he found success writing books about the nutritional value of wild foods, he was asked how one might put together a good wild meal quickly. “Start with raccoon pie and cattail salad,” he said. “They never hurt anyone.”

  GIBSON, Bob (1935–), US baseball player.

  1 During the 1967 pennant race, Cardinals pitcher Gibson broke his leg. He was so hounded by reporters asking after his health and pitching prospects that he taped a piece of paper to his shirt front that read, “ 1. Yes, it’s off. 2. No, it doesn’t hurt. 3. I don’t know how much longer.”

  GIDE, André (1869–1951), French novelist.

  1 Paul Claudel, the Catholic mystic poet, once tried to convert the free-thinking Gide. He was unsuccessful. On February 19, 1951, Gide died. A few days later, on a bulletin board in a hall of the Sorbonne, a telegram appeared bearing Gide’s signature. It read: “Hell doesn’t exist. Better notify Claudel.”

  GIELGUD, Sir John (1904–2000), British actor.

  1 Gielgud’s first production was the Oxford University Dramatic Society’s Romeo and Juliet in 1932. The youthful cast was a glittering one and the production launched several people on their theatrical careers, notably Peggy Ashcroft in the role of Juliet. For the role of the Nurse, Gielgud had the inspired idea of asking Edith Evans, already a considerable star, and she agreed to play the part. There were various hitches at the first performa
nce and by the time of the final curtain Gielgud was in a state of acute nervous tension. All the flowery compliments that he had intended to pay Edith Evans and Peggy Ashcroft flew out of his head as he stepped to the front of the stage. What he actually ended up doing was thanking “two leading ladies, the like of whom I hope I shall never meet again.”

  2 After the evening performance, a man came to Gielgud’s dressing room to offer his congratulations. “How pleased I am to meet you,” said Sir John, recognizing the man’s face. “I used to know your son, we were at school together.”

  “I don’t have a son,” replied the man coldly. “I was at school with you.”

  3 Comedienne Carol Channing once invited Gielgud to a sports event at which she was to award the prizes. Sir John, suffering from a virus infection at the time, scribbled the following note in reply: “Sorry, love, cannot attend. Gielgud doesn’t fielgud.”

  4 Discussing the character of Othello, Gielgud once remarked, “I don’t really know what jealousy is.” A moment of reflection. Then: “Oh, yes, I do! I remember! When Larry [Olivier] had a success as Hamlet, I wept.”

  GILBERT, Sir Humphrey (?1539–83), English solider and navigator, half-brother of Sir Walter Raleigh.

  1 Despite the advice of his lieutenants, Gilbert refused to abandon his little ten-ton frigate, the Squirrel, which was overloaded and un-seaworthy. Having paid a visit to his men on board the other remaining ship in his fleet, the Golden Hind, he insisted on returning to the Squirrel. On the afternoon of September 9, 1583, the frigate was almost overwhelmed by the waves, but finally was recovered. Gilbert, sitting near the stern with a book in his hand, shouted out to the Golden Hind as it came within earshot, “We are as near to heaven by sea as by land.” That night the watch on the Golden Hind saw the lights of the Squirrel suddenly vanish, and he cried out, “The general is cast away.” This was indeed true, and of the five ships that set out on the expedition, only the Golden Hind returned to England to tell the tale, together with Gilbert’s noble last words.

  GILBERT, John (1895–1936), US film actor. A great screen lover of the silent film days, Gilbert found his career ruined by the advent of sound.

  1 Gilbert was once called upon at short notice to play the role of the heroine’s father in a Chicago production. He learned his lines in record time, but was still struggling to remember the name of the character he was playing, Numitorius, when the play opened. A colleague having helpfully suggested the book of Numbers as a mnemonic, Gilbert rushed on stage with renewed confidence that evening and delivered his opening line: “Hold, ’tis I, her father — Deuteronomy.”

  GILBERT, Sir W[illiam] S[chwenck] (1836–1911), British writer famous mainly for his collaboration with Sir Arthur Sullivan in the Savoy operas.

  1 Soon after the death of a well-known composer, someone who did not keep up with the news asked Gilbert what the maestro in question was doing. “He is doing nothing,” was the answer.

  “Surely he is composing,” persisted the questioner.

  “On the contrary,” said Gilbert. “He is decomposing.”

  2 At the Garrick Club in London, Gilbert was once baiting a group of Shakespeare admirers. “Take this passage, for example,” he said. “I would as lief be thrust into a quickset hedge, As cry ‘Plosh’ to a callow throstle.” One of the group at once sprang to Shakespeare’s defense: “That’s perfectly clear. It just means that the speaker would prefer to be scratched all over in a thorny bush rather than disturb the bird’s song. Er — what play is that from?” Gilbert smiled triumphantly. “No play,” he said. “I made it up — and jolly good Shakespeare it is, too!”

  3 The Gilbert and Sullivan partnership was frequently stormy, with Gilbert particularly irritated by Sullivan’s oft-repeated intention of pulling out so that he could write “better music.” Gilbert observed, “He is like a man who sits on a stove and then complains that his backside is burning.”

  4 An actor whom Gilbert was attempting to browbeat turned on his tormentor and said, “See here, sir, I will not be bullied. I know my lines.”

  “Possibly,” retorted Gilbert, “but you don’t know mine.”

  5 The actress Henrietta Hodson had a long-running feud with Gilbert, whose dictatorial methods in the theater she strongly resented. At a rehearsal for a Gilbert comedy she missed the chair and sat down heavily on the stage. Gilbert applauded from the stalls. “I always thought you would make an impression on the stage someday,” he said.

  6 When Gilbert lived in his mansion, Grims Dyke, in Stanmore just outside London, his neighbors on the adjoining estate were the Blackwells, a family of solid tradespeople who had built up a thriving business in jams and pickles, which sold under the trade name “Cross and Blackwell.” They were totally unaware that their attempts to pass themselves off as landed gentry caused a considerable amount of local amusement. On several occasions Gilbert’s dogs wandered onto the Blackwells’ land, an intrusion not permitted to pass unnoticed. Gilbert received a stiff note of complaint. His reply was brief: “Dear Sir, I will take care that in future my dogs do not trespass on your preserves. Kindly pardon the expression.”

  7 At rehearsals one day, Gilbert was anxious to speak to a particular actress and asked a stagehand where she might be found. “She’s round behind,” replied the stagehand.

  “Yes, I know that,” said Gilbert, “but where is she?”

  8 Gilbert watched one of his actors give an appalling performance. Bursting into the man’s dressing room after the show, he cried, “My dear chap! Good isn’t the word!”

  9 Gilbert once visited an actress who was lying ill in a darkened room. Her mother, who was tending her, said, “I won’t ask what you think of her appearance, for you can hardly see her.” Gilbert replied, “Her appearance matters nothing. It is her disappearance we could not stand.”

  GILLESPIE, [John] “Dizzy” (1917–93), US trumpeter, composer, and jazz musician.

  1 One night Dizzy was playing in a small club where he liked to try out simple, sometimes old-fashioned tunes. One such number, “Hey Pete, Let’s Eat Mo’ Meat,” was received scornfully by a group of musical sophisticates sitting right in front of the stage. Dizzy noticed their mockery, positioned himself directly in their vision, and played an extended burst of astoundingly difficult and beautiful jazz improvisations. Leaning over them, he said, “See?,” then quietly resumed his playing of “Hey Pete.”

  GIOLITTI, Giovanni (1842–1928), Italian statesman.

  1 Someone mindful of Giolitti’s tumultuous political career once asked him if it was difficult to govern Italy. “Not at all,” replied the old statesman, “but it’s useless.”

  GIORGIONE [Giorgione da Castelfranco] (c. 1477–1510), Italian painter of the Venetian school.

  1 On one occasion a group of sculptors were maintaining the superiority of their art to that of the painter. Giorgione was not impressed, claiming that a painting could show at once all that was necessary, without obliging the viewer to walk around the object. He offered to show in a single view the front, back, and both sides of a figure in one painting. The sculptors were skeptical, but Giorgione fulfilled his promise by painting a nude with her back turned to the viewer, a pool of water at her feet to reflect the front, a burnished corselet reflecting one side, and a mirror the other.

  GIOTTO [Giotto di Bondone] (c. 1266–1337), Italian painter and architect.

  1 Pope Boniface VIII, thinking to employ Giotto, sent a messenger to the painter to ask for a sample of his work. With one continuous stroke of his hand, Giotto drew a perfect circle. When this was shown to the pope, he realized that Giotto was preeminent among painters of the time.

  2 While studying with Giovanni Cimabue, Giotto painted a fly on the nose of a figure in one of his master’s paintings. So realistic was the insect that when Cimabue returned to work on the picture, he tried repeatedly to brush the fly away. It was some time before he realized that he had fallen victim to one of Giotto’s practical jokes.

  3 When he first
encountered Giotto’s children, Dante was struck by their ugliness. “My friend,” he exclaimed, “you make such handsome figures for others — why do you make such plain ones for yourself?” The unruffled Giotto replied, “I paint for others by day.”

  GIPP, George (1895–1920), US football player.

  1 In December 1920 a throat infection turned to pneumonia and Gipp died at the height of his career. On his deathbed he told Notre Dame’s coach, Knute Rockne, “Someday, when things look real tough for Notre Dame, ask the boys to go out there and win one for the Gipper.” In 1928 Notre Dame had had a catastrophic season. They were in New York to play Army, burdened with the memory of an 18–0 defeat in the previous year’s Army game. In the locker room Rockne gathered the team around him and repeated to them Gipp’s deathbed request. “I’ve never used Gipp’s request until now,” he concluded. “This is that game. It’s up to you.” The Notre Dame team went out and played like men inspired. The final score was Army 6, Notre Dame 12. The following day the New York Daily News headline read: “Gipp’s Ghost Beats Army.” The game was known thereafter as “the Gipp Game” and “Win one for the Gipper” entered the American language.

  GLADSTONE, William Ewart (1809–98), British statesman, four times Liberal prime minister (1868–74, 1880–85, 1886, 1892–94).

  1 Mrs. Gladstone was presiding over a gathering in her drawing room when some of her visitors launched into a spirited controversy over the interpretation of a biblical passage. Presently one of the party, feeling that the discussion was becoming too heated, tried to put a stop to it by remarking piously, “Well, there is One above who knows all things.” Mrs. Gladstone’s face brightened. “Yes,” she said, “and Mr. Gladstone will be coming down in a few minutes.”