Alvah's Books

The Sartorialist
By Scott Schuman
Penguin Books
512 pages
$25.00

Reviewed by Randall Radic

 “The clothes make the man.”  An old, old adage, which, depending upon the amount of chemical-electrical activity in your prefrontal cortex, might be true.  For beautiful clothes, or a beautiful person caparisoned in beautiful clothes, reflect achievement and affluence.  Yet withal, clothing is highly personal, thus it also reflects taste. 

Beautiful clothes have an indirect impact upon physical beauty.  Clothing serves to enhance and influence beauty.  And the bizarre thing is this:  clothing evokes feelings of beauty rather than defining or pointing to beauty.  That is, beautiful clothing arouses feelings of beauty both in the observed and the observer.  Or try putting it this way:  beautiful clothes give action to beauty, which means that for many simply being beautiful is not enough — for beauty, in and of itself  is quite static, from some perspectives.  Thus beauty, in its erotic pursuit of esteem, seeks to place itself in evidence, i.e., give itself action, for esteem is awarded only on the basis of evidence.  In this sense, then, the artful display of beauty is an achievement — an achievement which itself is a form of beauty. 

What we’re talking about then is the beautiful display of the beautiful.  Beauty within beauty — beauty surrounded by beautiful taste and beautiful fashion — all presented beautifully.

Texture, color and light.  These elements aid beauty in acquiring status.  To that end, St. Thomas Aquinas asserted that beauty abides in the realm of the transcendental; and that beauty is “good” because it affects that perfervid ambience that mankind has designated ‘the soul.’  Indeed, St. Thomas went so far as to actually define beauty:  “Beauty is the splendour of form shining on the proportioned parts of matter.”  Saint Augustine said of beauty, “unity is the form of all beauty …. If beauty delights the mind, it is because beauty is essentially a certain excellence or perfection in the proportion of things.”  In other words, to these acknowledged men of holiness, we enjoy beauty because we like and admire unity, order, and brightness or clarity of color.  St. Thomas listed four qualities of beauty:

1.  perfection of proportion.
2.  integrity, and unity of form.
3.  brightness and clarity in color.
4.  degree of splendour — something luminous in itself.

And according to St. Thomas, deciding that an image or a person is beautiful has its provenance in judgment, not in intuition, and involves “a dialogue” with beauty.  Beauty, then, is what pleases when it is seen.  And to touch beauty is apotheotic, an ascension to God.  For the truly beautiful is ‘whole,’ or ‘complete’ in all its parts and proportions.

The French have termed this ‘completeness’ elegance — that which is gracefully refined and luxuriously attired.  And the term includes, but is not limited to:  line, grace in movement, and a harmony between person, costume and environment.

In other words, the dialogue between beauty and mankind is found in clothing.

Scott Schuman’s book – The Sartorialist – presents in photographs what the reviewer has attempted to present in the above paragraphs – the action that beautiful clothes give to beauty.  Some of the photos depict clothing of the most bizarre and disparate type, but the effect when viewed as a whole is wonderful and may truly be designated as “sartorial elegance.” 

The photos were taken in locations all over the world.  And they demonstrate the distinctiveness of nationality and ethnic taste.  In the end, though, as one flips through the pages, the reader is led to a singular conclusion:  sartorial beauty is a universal concept.  No one person or ethnic group or nation has a monopoly on elegance.  In fact, the photos prove that elegance has many faces:  conservative, outlandish, somber, and colorful.  And many times elegance is most pronounced when displayed with unabashed extravagance. 

When perusing The Sartorialist, do yourself and favor and pay particular attention to the shoes being worn.  The evidence is obvious to even the most myopic – shoes can make or break one’s fashion statement.  As can hats, scarves, and handkerchiefs.  

The Sartorialist is a gem of a book.  It is without peer.  For it provides a glimpse of just how important clothes are in human interactions.  Wearing just the right dress, a woman can shout, “Here I am!” without even opening her mouth.  And for a man, the perfect hat can speak volumes about his masculinity, his personality.

On the Lookyloo-O-Meter, which ranges from 1 star (squint in pain) to 5 stars (gaze in rapture), The Sartorialist beholds 5 elegant stars.  Don’t miss this one.  Simply having it on your coffee table will let everyone know how elegant you really are.

The Alice B. Toklas Cook Book
By Alice B. Toklas
Penguin Books, 1961
336 pages, prices vary

My goal this week was to review a cookbook that would tie-in with this month’s Alvah Bessie theme. Since Alvah was so enchanted by Spain, I thought a Spanish cookbook would make sense. Unfortunately, none of my Spanish cookbooks are very impressive or exciting to review. So I was in a bit of a quandary in figuring what today’s selection for “What’s Cookin’” would be and then I came across a little gem that’s been in the family since I was born.

I discovered The Alice B. Toklas Cook Book during my “Lost Generation” phase. This was a time when I wanted to escape to Paris and live the life boheme (in relative comfort, of course), writing, eating, and enjoying everything Paris had to offer a thirteen year-old girl.

Now, in all honesty, I have to admit that I found Ms. Toklas very intriguing not so much for her great gastronomic skills, but because of her alternative lifestyle with Gertrude Stein. Remember, I was thirteen and curious.

The recipes (or its variations, including the famous Hashish Brownies) in The Alice B. Toklas Cook Book can easily found in other top-notch cooks books, but what’s remarkable about this little book are Ms. Toklas autobiographical  anecdotes that are generously sprinkled throughout. In the section “Dishes for Artists”she writes of the time she prepared a striped bass for Picasso, which she decorated for his amusement:

A short time before serving it I covered the fish with an ordinary mayonnaise and, using a pastry tube, decorated it with a red mayonnaise, not coloured with catsup – horror of horrors-but with tomato paste. Then I made a design with sieved hard-boiled eggs, the whites and the yolks apart with truffles and finely chopped fines herbes. I was proud of my chef d’oeuvre when it was served and Picasso exclaimed at its beauty. But, said he, should it not rather have been made in honour of Matisse than me.

In “Beautiful Soup” she writes of the finer points and variations of the Spanish gazpacho and then goes on to provide four different recipes from Malaga, Segovia, Sevilla,and Cordoba, along with the Polish, Greek, and Turkish variations of this cold soup.

Food historians might have a special interest in the chapter titled, “Food in the United States in 1934 and 1935. Toklas writes of Stein’s concern about food in America and whether it would be “to her taste.” Here, Toklas describes the different cities and restaurants and all the delicious meals that surpassed both their expectations.

The Alice B. Toklas Cook Book provides readers with a fascinating  and entertaininglook at the eating habits and tastes of two American expatriates who broke bread with Europe’s and America’s leading artists. It’s a worthwhile read, if not for the recipes, but for Toklas’ observations.