Keeping Authors in Their Place

By James Hanna

Who can forget those exciting months in 2026 when an extraterrestrial civilization made contact with Phineas Ford? The aliens’ broadcasts were jumbled, suggesting a stunted vocabulary, but that may be because they hadn’t had much chance to evolve. After all, their unfortunate planet was orbiting Proxima Centauri, a star too cold and runty to warm a planet up. Even so, America decided to begin a conversation and provide this planet with some of the books that made us an enlightened nation. 

It would take four light-years to broadcast these books to that frozen, barren world and four more light-years for its inhabitants to send us a response. Still, time is hardly a factor when it comes to awakening celestial neighbors. Since the inhabitants of that planet seemed destined to live in darkness and gloom, it was our godly duty to rescue them from the mire. And who better to do it than Phineas Ford, the greatest stargazer of all and a man so well-read that his opinions are valued all over the world? It was Phineas who had built a telescope of such incredible power that he had spotted galaxies previously unknown to Man. It was Phineas who had read ten thousand books in several languages and had published hundreds of articles on the evolving state of Man. And it was Phineas who built an audio receiver of such sensitivity that he was receiving messages from interplanetary life. So, it is little wonder that in times of great challenge and change, America seeks direction by turning to Phineas Ford.

At the White House’s request, NASA put together a plan to familiarize the extraterrestrials with the best books Earth has to offer. And since sending them entire recordings of these books would be overkill, NASA concluded that brief summaries would be more than enough. So, Phineas was asked to record an album summarizing the world’s finest books, an audio that NASA intended to broadcast to that faraway planet. And because the whole country was thrilled by the thought of this merciful crusade, Phineas agreed to recite his assessments on National Public Radio.

Phineas began with Anna Karenina, a book he had read fifteen times, and in only a day, he distilled the book to its proper essence. His recitation was deceptively simple, lasting only fifteen seconds, but that was enough for Phineas’ words to send shivers up one’s spine. Phineas stated, “A wife cheats on her husband, then throws herself under a train. This is what happens when wives leave their husbands to sleep with unprincipled men.”

“Brilliant!” cried Scott Lessing, Secretary of America’s Department of Culture. “In less than thirty words, Phineas Ford trims the fat from this long-winded classic, reducing it to the marrow of what Tolstoy meant to say.” “Spectacular!” cried one of the trustees of the Kennedy Center. “Ford provides a conclusion of such economy and depth that Tolstoy himself would have apologized for wasting so many words.”

Not one to sit on his laurels, Phineas composed another recap, this time focusing his no-bullshit mind on F. Scott Fitzgerald’s bootlegger. In reducing The Great Gatsby to a handful of powerful words, Phineas plucked the crux of this book from a sea of verbosity. Phineas stated, “A man is shot dead because he can’t let go of the past. This is what happens if folks don’t embrace the life they’re supposed to live.” 

“How profound!” cried Christie Wentworth, president of the Southern Baptist Convention. “I shunned that book when I was in school, even though it was required reading. My goodness, how could the school board label a book a masterpiece that clearly serves no master and certainly offers no peace?  Mr. Gatsby is clearly nothing but a homewrecker and a crook and I’m glad Mr. Ford has given him the eulogy he deserves.” In harmony with Mrs. Wentworth, the Knights of Columbus proclaimed that Jay Gatsby got what was coming to him and Fitzgerald deserved the same. 

Phineas was clearly on a roll, and with destiny in his sails, he presented three more summaries of equal merit and length. In evaluating Moby Dick, he stated, “A ship captain fights a monster whale and ends up getting killed. The moral of the book is, ‘Climb not too high lest the fall prove too great.’” In weighing The Catcher in the Rye, Phineas surmised, “A foul-mouthed boy gets thrown into a nuthouse after he drops out of school. The author is saying, ‘Respect your elders and don’t go playing hooky.’” Condensing Madame Bovary, he stated, “A wife gets into debt and then kills herself because she can’t pay her bills. The moral here is, ‘Save your money for a rainy day.’” 

Since great enterprises sprout detractors like toadstools follow a rain, Phineas’ summations were challenged by a critic for The New York Times Book Review. The critic wrote, “Admittedly, baby steps are required to lift uninformed cultures to greater sophistication. But are Mr. Ford’s opinions of books that have survived the erosion of time not equivalent to a blind man who, upon seizing an elephant’s tail, insists that he is clutching a snake and nothing more?”

“Shame!” responded the erudite editor of Christian Thought Today. “Are Mr. Ford’s statements not prose poems of the finest caliber? One need only consider “The Raven” to gauge the worthlessness of critics. When Poe’s masterpiece was first published, the cultural watchdogs cried, “Foul.” They said Poe was a jingoist and not a serious poet. They called him a rhymester, a charlatan, a champion of doggerel, but today, no one remembers these critics, and “The Raven” is being read everywhere. So, if Mr .Ford is to suffer a fate equivalent to that of Poe’s, let it be said that he is in the best of company.”

Encouraged by Christian Thought Today, Phineas voiced three more reviews. Addressing The Odyssey, he stated, “A war hero kills a bunch of men who plan to screw his wife. The poet is saying, ‘Woe unto those who can’t keep their pricks zipped up.’” Assessing The Red Badge of Courage, he said, “A boy, facing battle, shits himself but still decides to fight. The moral here is, ‘When going to war, pack a change of underpants.’” In summarizing Hemingway’s novella about a quixotic fisherman, Phineas said, “A graybeard catches a fish he can’t fit in his boat, so sharks come and gobble it up. The message is, ‘What is beyond your entitlement seek not.’”

Phineas’ summations drew more detractors, but their voices could not compete with a speech made by Vicky McNaughten, the Secretary of Education. She delivered her speech at an evening ceremony held on the National Mall, where she spoke of NASA’s great vision and the genius of Phineas Ford. Facing a crowd of thousands, Vicky also declared that students would no longer be held hostage by writers with diarrhea of the pen. Instead, they would earn their literature credits by reading Phineas’ briefs, which would give them more time to participate in band and ROTC. 

Following Mrs. McNaughton’s promise of scholastic liberation, the crowd was treated to a recording of “Bringing in the Sheaves.” Afterward, the stars gave way to a fireworks celebration, and it was announced that Phineas had won the Presidential Medal of Freedom.