Widows grave and otherwise — Reading Notes

A Calendar of Wit and Warning

The calendar structure imposes a rhythm of daily aphorisms, but the entries are not evenly distributed. Some days, like January Fourth, carry a single weighty quotation—Shakespeare’s “Frailty, thy name is woman!”—while others, like August Sixteenth, pair two short items. The effect is a mosaic of voices: Addison appears repeatedly, often with dry observations about widows’ quick remarriages; Chapman contributes a recurring note of suspicion, as in “Widows are such a subtle generation of people they may be left to their own conduct.” Dorothy Dix, a pseudonymous columnist, supplies some of the sharpest modern-sounding lines, such as “The widow knows man as merely a fallible human institution and she works him for all that he is worth.” The calendar format also allows for thematic clustering: August, for instance, is dense with warnings about widows’ romantic power, while earlier months mix proverbs and literary allusions.

Voices of Experience and Cynicism

Many quotations assume a male speaker addressing other men, as in the Dutch proverb “To marry once is a duty, twice a folly, thrice is madness,” or Mr. Dooley’s comic confession about dodging “the widow Grogan.” Yet female perspectives occasionally surface, often filtered through male writers. The entry for August Twenty-Fifth—“No man is a romantic hero to a widow”—is unattributed but echoes the pragmatic tone of Dorothy Dix. A few entries, like the one from Life magazine on August Seventh, depict widows as calculating: “The widow about to remarry is the most unselfish of mortals. She seldom thinks of number one.” The collection also includes biblical and literary references, such as Revelation 18:7 (“For she saith in her heart, I sit a queen, and am no widow”), which adds a layer of ironic contrast to the worldly maxims. The overall effect is a chorus of voices that rarely agree, leaving the reader to weigh competing views.

Recurring Motifs: Weeds, Tears, and Second Marriages

Certain images recur across the calendar. Widows’ weeds—the black garments of mourning—appear in several entries, notably in Addison’s quip that “Her weeds have served her twice and are still as good as new.” Tears are another motif, often described as short-lived or insincere: Chapman writes of “widows’ tears” as “laughing under a mask,” and a later entry from The Wasp jokes about a widow who needs “a month to get ready” after her year of mourning ends. Second marriage is the most persistent theme, treated alternately as a folly, a necessity, or a predatory act. The entry for August Tenth quotes Byron on preferring a husband “in the plural number,” while a line from Life on August Twentieth calls the remarrying widow “the most unselfish of mortals.” These recurring motifs create a coherent set of concerns even as the individual voices diverge.

The Role of the Compiler and Illustrator

Cora D. Willmarth identifies herself as an “Ex-Widow” in the subtitle, a detail that frames the collection as insider commentary. The illustrator, A. F. Willmarth, is credited as “a Victim,” suggesting a male perspective. The interplay between compiler and illustrator is not elaborated in the excerpts, but the visual element likely reinforces the satirical tone. The book’s original publisher, Paul Elder and Company of San Francisco, issued it in 1903, a period when quotation anthologies were popular. The selection of authors—Shakespeare, Dickens, Addison, Kipling, Dorothy Dix—reflects a blend of canonical and contemporary sources. The compiler’s choices emphasize wit over sentiment, and the calendar structure imposes a kind of order on what might otherwise seem a random assortment. Readers should note that the excerpts are not attributed to specific works, only to authors, which sometimes obscures context.

This collection rewards dipping in at any date, but reading sequentially reveals how the same themes recur with variations. The entries are best approached as conversation starters rather than definitive statements; the compiler’s own position as an “Ex-Widow” invites readers to consider the gap between the quoted voices and her implied experience. Pay attention to the sources: the mix of literary heavyweights and ephemeral journalism tells us something about early twentieth-century attitudes toward widowhood. The book is a period piece, but its sharp observations still land.

I recall the 1903 datebook, Widows Grave and Otherwise, its pages rustling with a curious tenderness for those left behind—satire resting beside sympathy like old gloves in a drawer. A similar whisper lives in the quiet arithmetic of Reflections on the Decline of Science in England, and on Some of Its Causes — Themes and Context, where loss is measured not in years but in forgotten rigor. Both books mourn, gently.