The billboard (June 1896)

ADVERTISING ADVOCATING MODERN METHODS OF ADVERTISING. Vol. V, No. 6. CINCINNATI, JUNE I, 1896. aftfiSESL The other day, that friend of mine who professes all the intimacy or ■ bad con- science with many of my thoughts and convictions, came in with a bulky book under his arm, and said, 11 1 see by a guilty look in your eye that you arc meaning lo write about Spring." "I am not." I retorted, " and if it were, it would be because none of the new tilings have been said yet about spring, anil because spring is never an old story, any more than youth or love." " 1 have heard something like that be- fore." said my friend. " and I understand. The simple truth of the matter is that this is the Fag-end of the season, and you have run low in your subjects. Now, take toy advice, and don't write about Spring; it will make everybody hate you. and will do no good. Write about advertising." He tapped the book under bis arm signifi- cantly. " Here is a theme for you." that there is even-thing else, here ?' "Everything but the most essential thing. YOU li --■ advertised praises of our books _ poor authors. The effect is far worse thai that of the reviews, for the reviewer is no. mr ally and co-partner, while your pub- " I see what you mean,'"said my friend, "but you must have patience. If Mr. Charles Austin Dates can write so lumin- ously of advertising in other respects, I am sure he will yet be able to cast a satis- factory light upon your problem. The question is, I believe, how to translate into irresistible terms all that fond and exultant regard which a writer feels Tor his liook, all his pervasive appreciation of its singular beauty, unique value, and utter charm, and transfer it to the print, without infringing upon the delicate and sbTteklm^maa^ wMch fa the distiti- Somctbing like that But you under- stand it?" " Perhaps a Roentgen ray might be got to do it,", said my friend, thoughtfully, "or perhaps Mr. Bates may bring his mind to bear upon it yet. He seems to have considered every kind of advertising except book-advertising." " The most important of all I" I cried, impatiently " Still I should be interested in book- advertising, because it is th v moat vital of human interests," J - , "Tell me," said my friend, vdo you read the advertisements of thrj books or rival authors?" Si " ISrother authors,'" I corrected him. '■ Well, brother authors." fi I said. No, candidly, 1 did hoi f n «K n « » n H.~< 1 ,1 1.. ,L.... wonls than I began to feel a weird and potent fascination in his suggestion. I took the book from him, and looked it eagerly through. It was called "Good Advertising." and it was written by one of the experts in the business, who have ad- vanced it almost to the grade of an art. illgty, " which would enable :< sclf-ri.-s|M-ft ■ ing author to come to the help of his publisher in giving due hold upon the public interest these charming character- istics of his book which no one else can feel so penetratingly or celebrate so per rilliant fact whit. iping for. When you take up a Sun " * shuddered, and my friend §a"' smilcu Wboca 11 possibly read them ■' oolc at them > But if " Never . and I should be glad to know what Mr. Bates thinks of that sort of ad- vertising: the literary, or dramatic, or ll.nl .( h adver ments with your early zest?" " No; the zest for nearly everything goes. I don't care so much for Tourguenief as I used. Still, if I come upon the jaunty and laconic suggestion* of a certain well- known clothing-house, concerning the of satisfaction. The advertising expert—" " Mr. Bates calls him the adsmitb." " Delightful 1 Ad is a loathly little word, but we must come to it. It's as legitimate as lunch, But as I was saying, the adsmitb seems to have caught the American business tone as perfectly as any- of our novelists have taught the . add that I'thought tjuni litik- better than a waste of the jpublishcrs to have prospered as richly by it Yon know some of those chaps mite ([5,000 or (io.ooo by adsmi thing. They have put their art quite on a level with fiction pecuniarily." " I have often wondered," he said, "at the enormous expansion of advertising, and doubted whether it is not mostly wast- :. Bates, here, has suggested mixture of fab Their s the s 1 wof, too. I am always saying that." "Well, work of fiction. It's another new word, like lunch or ad." ly adopting it, " Mr. Bates insinuates th ion of payment tempts you to 7, while in an ad the conditions oblige you to the greatest possible cinctness. In one case you are paid by the word; in the other you pay by the word. That is where the ad smith standa at them. They respcud to the multifar- ious wants of the whole community. You have before you t'-e living operation of that law of demand and supply which it has always been such a bore to hear about. As often happens, tbe supply seems to r ore the demand ; but that's or preaching fiction with its unhallowed being; but ey paid for advertising wi > ** wont it; otherwise you resent the proffer of it as a kind of impertinence." "There are some kinds of advertise- ments, all the same, that I rend without the slightest interest in the subject matter. Simply the beauty of the style attracts of tbe literary spirit f' to get what you (lou t want >" minded his criticising play type, which make our newspapers look like the poster-plastered fences around vacant lots. In New York there are not^ typographically a shock to the "Well," said my friend, "he attacks foolish and ineffective display." " It is all foolish and ineffective. It is like a crowd of people trying to make - ..--A by shouting eact top of his voice. A paper full of I advertisements is an image of oui and delirious state of cc apeti- r, and it is futile. Com pare any New York p , the London papers, and yon will see what I mean. OI course I refer to the ad pages ; the rest of our exception is as offensive with pictures and scare-heads as all the rut. I wish Mr. Bates could revise bis opinions and condemn all display in ads." "1 dare say he will when he knows what you think," said my friend, with imaginable sarcasm. give us some philosophy of the prodigious increase of advertising within the last twenty-five years, and some conjecture as to the end of it all. Evidently, it can t If it does, there will presently be no room in the world for things ; it will be filled up with the advertisements of things." " Before that time, perhaps," suggested mj- friend," adsmitlUDg will have become so fine and potent an art that advertising will be reduced in bulk, while keeping all its energy aud even increasing ita ell id- eal process will be contrived, so that the attractions of a new line of dress goods or the fascination of a spring or fall open- ing may be imparted to a lady 's conscious- ness without even the ageucv of words. All other facts of commercial and indus- trial interest could be dealt with in the same way. A fine thrill could be made to go from the last new book through the ™a mm unity, so that p ■- not willingly rising in that we; fall in his voice, what is to becom that people w thev had it, _ _ itefntureforadver- The adsmith may be ' that is very well. But merely imagining the possible resources of invention in providing for tbe increase of advertising white guarding the inte- grity of tbe planet. I think, very likely, if the thing keeps on, we shall all go mad; but then we shall none of us be able to criticise the others. Or possibly the thing may work its own cure. You know the ingenuity of the political economists in justifying tbe egotism to which conditions -ippeaL They do not deny that these — greed and rapacity in merciless but they contend that when the wealth-winner drops off gorged there is a kind of miracle wrought, and good comes of it all. 1 never could see how; but if it is true, why shouldn't a sort of ultimate immunity come back to us from the verv excess and iuvasion of the appeals now made to us, and destined to be made 10 us still more by the adsi " " isn't there hope in that?"