The funniest book I ever read

Good Read

IMAGINE SATAN AS the naughty brother of Archangels Michael and Gabriel, a rapscallion sent away from Heaven for a celestial day or two when one of the lesser angels tattles on him and he incurs God's displeasure over some sarcastic observation he made concerning one of the Lord's works. While flapping around space, enjoying a reprieve from the cacophony of countless souls singing praises to the Lord, all out of tune, he visits Earth and writes a series of letters to his brothers telling him of the madhouse it has become. Thus, begins Mark Twain's Letters From The Earth. 

Letters From The Earth is a collection of essays and sketches that Twain worked on during the later years of his life, and hid away from his wife. Olivia “Livy” Langdon Clemens was the child of staunch New England Congregationalists. Her family included one of the leading evangelists of the time. I can only imagine that Livy felt uncomfortable when her famous husband went on a rant about Christian hypocrisy, such as is evidenced in this book, and I believe that Twain felt guilty for causing his wife grief. He truly loved her.

Olivia Langdon Clemens

To be fair, most of today's Christians shouldn't take offense. They too should enjoy the humor in this book. It lampoons a literalistic interpretation of the Bible that is not commonly practiced these days. However, there are those who still do, and who probably will be offended. Sorry 'bout that.

The Letters were retrieved from storage by Bernard DeVoto, an editor who had been hired by Twain's survivors, probably looking to earn a little from his unpublished work. DeVoto put them in order and added them to other essays of an irreligious nature: The Diary of Adam, The Diary of Eve, and others. Twain's daughter, Clara Clemens, then the executor, put the kibosh on the project. Some have speculated that she worried that Twain would roast in hell if they were published (that is, if he wasn't already there for having just conceived of them).

Henry Nash Smith finally convinced Clara to release the Letters in 1960 arguing that her father's work belonged to the ages. Clara relented in part because the Soviets were claiming that her father's work was being suppressed by the capitalists. The first time I read them was when I picked up a copy of the Saturday Evening Post magazine that I found on a boat owned by a member of the Baltimore Yacht Club during their summer cruise on the Chesapeake Bay. The Letters had been serialized by the Post and I had to find the rest as soon as I returned home.

Yes, that was only the first time I read the Letters. I've read them many times since. Even though I have bought countless copies of them, and given away many, I now have a copy permanently stored on my Kindle. I'll be able to survive even the most tiresome queue at the DMV without complaint. However, there is a danger in reading this collection in a public place. Someone may send for the men with butterfly nets from the laughing academy to retrieve me from the floor where I end up every time laughing hysterically.