Dorothy Parker – writer, critic, poet and celebrated wit – died fifty years ago this month. In the 20th Century decades when men were men and women supposedly knew their place, she was one of those females quite capable of holding her own against all-comers irrespective of any sexism or barriers that stood in her way.
It probably does her a disservice – as I do now – to concentrate upon her quips and bon mots rather than her prolific short stories, poetry and movie script writing.
However, (as Oscar Wilde once said) imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Parker deserves her place within that rare group of such quotable luminaries as as Wilde himself, Winston Churchill and Groucho Marx precisely because, although over time examples have sometimes been wrongly attributed to her, nobody has minded (probably not even Parker herself if they ever came to her notice) because they were funny or insightful enough that they could (indeed ought to?) have been hers.
Here’s an article by John Dugdale to mark the occasion, spotted overnight on the website of – THE GUARDIAN