Imagine a book club which offered a new book of humor every other month for a year. The books will be sent right to you but cost less than the regular trade editions even though they are absolutely identical. The authors are all famous names. The titles cover all aspects of humor: anthologies, collections, comic novels. Doesn’t that sound great?
It existed. Called The Laugh Club it got national attention when announced in 1932. Cheap fun stuff in the middle of the Depression! How could that go wrong?
It went wrong. So wrong that it’s been totally erased from modern memory. What kind of obsessive would spend six months trying to resurrect every mention from every database?
Me. I’ve written apparently the only account ever, except for half a paragraph in John Tebbel’s A History of Book Publishing in the United States, released more than a half century ago. The story is so weird and the memory loss is so overwhelming that it was perfect for my Great Forgotten Humorists website.
Don’t ask silly questions like: why would anybody want to read about The Laugh Club? I had to write about it. I made it as entertaining as possible and loaded it with images so people can just skip the words if they choose. It would make me very happy if any other human being read the piece, but even if not, my inner peace is now satisfied, and what else is the internet for?