Book: 'The Complete Prose' by Woody Allen (1998)

Whatever you might think of Woody Allen as a filmmaker, or as a person, there can be no denying that the prose he wrote for 'The New Yorker' is amongst the funniest ever put on paper. Even now, after a time lapse of months since last reading, 'If The Impressionists Had Been Dentists' is one of the funniest short pieces ever written. It's ludicrous!

Ludicrousness was Allen's gift for a long, long time. His writing was a perfect blend of intelligence and idiocy, often focused on one of existential angst, utterly superficial madness, or both in a bizarre fusion. His gift was to be gifted, and no monument represents that gift better than 'The Complete Prose', which is the ultimately limitless expression of someone insanely funny or funnily insane. It's no coincidence that he became steadily less funny over the course of thirty seven years of psychotherapy, now seeming barely insane or funny at all.

The list of fascinating little gems goes on and on. What do you mean, you've never read 'The Metterling Lists'? Really? A critical appreciation of the laundry lists of noted fictitious writer Metterling and you haven't read them? Good grief! You haven't lived! What about 'Fabrizio's: Criticism and Response'? No? I'm aghast. You will never know how aghast. If I were weaker, this blog would close down this very instant.

Oh, Woody Allen, you saved many lives with your words. We will always remember Needleman, laugh at the Gossage-Vardebedian chess game, and return to your look at organised crime with mouths agape. Thank you kindly. How did one man write all these things, especially without the aid of a yo-yo on a rubber band? No, that's an assumption; Maybe he did have a yo-yo on a rubber band. That could explain it all, especially the movie 'Bananas'.

'The Complete Prose' is a great, great collection. Recommended with no reservations whatsoever, as it's performed admirably for years. Now it's time to check out the semi-mythical S.J. Perelman's writing and see how it stacks up to Allen and Groucho Marx.

O.