1932: An easy victory in the 2000 Guineas at Newmarket ensured that Orwell was firm favourite to win the Derby in June. Punters bet heavily on the colt, but he lacked the staying power needed for the longer Epsom race, and finished a long way down the field. At Doncaster, three months later, he had the chance to redeem himself in the St. Leger, but again ran poorly. Win or lose, though, the name Orwell appeared prominently and repeatedly in the sports pages.
Tag archive: 1932
1932: Jessie Beale accompanied her husband, a forest manager with a teak firm, into the foothills of Burma. At Karen and Kachin villages they distributed Epsom salts, boracic washes and aspirin. Other than that, the villagers had to rely on local medical care, some of it “pretty grim”.
“I once saw a poor girl who was being looked after by some old women in childbirth. They put a plank on her stomach and jumped on it to force her baby out.”
Source: Lines from a Shining Land, ed. Derek Brooke-Wavell (1998), p. 9
1947: For 15 years, man-eating lions terrorized the Njombe district of southern Tanganyika. They dragged villagers from their huts and ambushed travellers on roads; on one occasion they snatched a herd boy off the back of a cow without harming the cow.
Not until 1946 was a determined effort made to end the menace. It took Game Ranger George Rushby and his African game scouts more than a year to track down and shoot the beasts. Only after 15 had been killed was Rushby satisfied that the reign of terror was over. “There is no doubt that the Njombe lions were the worst man-eating lions ever recorded in African history,” Rushby wrote. He estimated that between 1932 and 1947 they had killed and eaten over 1,500 people.
Source: G.G. Rushby, No More the Tusker (1965), chaps. 20–2
1932: Large mobs of emus, migrating from the interior of Western Australia to the coast, pecked and trampled crops in the state’s wheat belt, especially around the town of Campion. The farmers, many of them First World War veterans, clamoured for the authorities to deploy machine guns against the marauders. A contingent of soldiers armed with Lewis guns was sent into battle, but the birds were too speedy and too wily, scattering into small groups and dashing for cover as soon as the guns opened up. “Major Meredith and his merry men” claimed a thousand kills, but the inglorious campaign failed to impress anyone, and was scathingly referred to as the “Emu War”.
Source: Journal of Australian Studies, 2006
1930: Grown-ups fretted over grown-up issues like political instability and job insecurity, but for 13-year-old Roald Dahl, 1930 marked the start of the “great golden years of the chocolate revolution”. The limited chocolate choice of the 1920s was suddenly transformed; “the entire world of chocolate was turned upside-down in the space of seven glorious years, between 1930 and 1937”.
The Mars bar first appeared in 1932; Chocolate Crisp was launched in 1935 and renamed Kit Kat two years later; Aero also went on sale in 1935; Quality Street made its debut in 1936; and Maltesers, Rolo and Smarties were introduced in 1937.
Source: Felicity and Roald Dahl, Roald Dahl’s Cookbook (1991), pp. 150–5
1972: For 40 years, black men in Alabama were the unwitting participants in a Public Health Service study of the effects of untreated syphilis. From 1932 until 1972, when The Associated Press broke the story, the Tuskegee Study followed the progress of the disease in a group of 399 men. No effort was made to cure the men. When penicillin became available for the treatment of syphilis, it was deliberately withheld from them, since its use would interfere with the experiment. By the time the study was terminated, at least 28 and possibly as many as 100 of the participants had died from complications caused by the disease. “They were subjects, not patients;” James H. Jones observed in Bad Blood, “clinical material, not sick people.”
Source: James H. Jones, Bad Blood: The Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment (1993), pp. 1–2, 179
1932: Penelope Chetwode met her future husband, the journalist and promising poet John Betjeman, for the first time. Asked shortly afterwards what it was she liked about him, she replied, “He has green teeth.”
Source: Bevis Hillier, Young Betjeman (1988), p. 373
1932: “Ravel’s Bolero I submit as the most insolent monstrosity ever perpetrated in the history of music. From the beginning to the end of its 339 measures it is simply the incredible repetition of the same rhythm,” scoffed Edward Robinson in The American Mercury. The main theme, he wrote, was “an overwhelmingly vulgar cabaret tune”, little different from “the wail of an obstreperous back-alley cat”.
Source: Nicolas Slonimsky, Lexicon of Musical Invective: Critical Assaults on Composers Since Beethoven’s Time (2000), p. 138
1932: Ralph Bagnold was a pioneer of motorised desert travel who later, during the Second World War, founded the British Army’s Long Range Desert Group. In Sand, Wind, and War, he recalled an incident from a peacetime expedition in the eastern Sahara.
Bagnold and his companions were driving across the Selima Sand Sheet. Their immediate destination was a small, uninhabited oasis, where they anticipated finding a petrol dump guarded by a policeman and his camel. They had driven hundreds of kilometres on a compass bearing. In the early morning, as they neared the oasis, Bagnold “distinctly smelt camel” on the breeze. He decided to follow his nose. “We drove for eight miles, and there, in a small depression out of sight from any distance, was the little oasis, the petrol, the policeman, and his camel.”
Source: Ralph A. Bagnold, Sand, Wind, and War: Memoirs of a Desert Explorer (1990), pp. 88–9
1932: Filippo Marinetti provoked uproar in Italy by proposing, in The Futurist Cookbook, the abolition of pasta, which he condemned for inducing “lassitude, pessimism, nostalgic inactivity and neutralism” (“fiacchezza, pessimismo, inattività nostalgica e neutralismo”).
Source: F.T. Marinetti, The Futurist Cookbook (1989), p. 37
1932: Howard Hawks, the film director, invited screenwriter and author William Faulkner and actor Clark Gable to go dove hunting. As they drove east from Los Angeles, Hawks and Faulkner began to talk about books. Gable joined in, asking Faulkner to name the best modern writers.
“Ernest Hemingway, Willa Cather, Thomas Mann, John Dos Passos,” Faulkner replied, “and myself.”
“Oh,” said Gable. “Do you write?”
“Yes, Mr. Gable,” said Faulkner. “What do you do?”
Source: Joseph Blotner, Faulkner: A Biography (1984), pp. 309–10