Oliver Goldsmith:
 

A new species of dramatic composition has been introduced under the name of sentimental comedy, in which the virtues of private life are exhibited, rather than the vices exposed; and the distresses, rather than the faults of mankind, make our interest in the piece.  These comedies have had of late great success, perhaps from their novelty, and also from their flattering every man in his favorite foible.  In these plays, almost all the characters are good, and exceedingly generous; they are lavish enough of their tin money on the stage, and though they want humour, have abundance of sentiment and feeling.  If they happen to have faults or foibles, the spectator is taught not only to pardon, but to applaud them, in consideration of the goodness of their hearts; so that folly, instead of being ridiculed, is commended, and the comedy aims at touching our passions without the power of being truly pathetic: in this manner we are likely to lose one great source of entertainment on the stage; for while the comic poet is invading the province of the tragic muse, he leaves her lovely sister quite neglected.  Of this, however, he is noway solicitous, as he measures his fame by his profits. . . .
   The theatre, like all other amusements, has its fashions and its prejudices; and when satiated with its excellence, mankind begin to mistake change for improvement.  For some years, tragedy was the reigning entertainment; but of late it has entirely given way to comedy, and our best efforts are now exerted in these lighter kinds of composition.  The pompous train, the swelling phrase, and the unnatural rant are displaced for that natural portrait of human folly and frailty, of which all are judges, because all have sat for the picture.

writing in the first number of the Westminster Magazine
January 1, 1773

Elliot Hess phoned at 10:40 A. M. to come over for champagne breakfast so I nipped over and we all had another bottle or two of champagne and gay talk, much in the old manner of . . . the ’20s. . . . In some ways these people (I am one) cannot exist without the oxygen of laughter.  That was why I couldn’t breathe in Paris—fear of strange isolation and the financial panic that precludes all comedy.

Diary Entry, January 1, 1961

The scene [of ridiculous comedy, comedy that ridicules, as differentiated from ludicrous comedy] might normally be neutralized by being set in some distant country or operatic never-never-land.  “As for the action . . . ,” Alfred Jarry announced at the beginning of Ubu Roi, “the place is Poland, that is to say Nowhere.”  Satire was described by Jonathan Swift as “a sort of glass wherein beholders do generally discover everybody’s face but their own.”

Playboys and Killjoys:
An Essay on the Theory and Practice of Comedy

Nothing is so foolish as mistimed wisdom, and nothing less sensible than misplaced sense.  A man’s conduct is misplaced if he doesn’t adapt himself to things as they are, has no eye for the main chance, won’t even remember that convivial maxim “drink or depart,” and asks for the play to stop being a play.  On the other hand, it’s a true sign of prudence not to want wisdom which extends beyond your share as an ordinary mortal, to be willing to overlook things along with the rest of the world or to wear your illusions with a good grace.  People say this is really a sign of folly, and I’m not setting out to deny it—so long as they’ll admit on their side that this is the way to play the comedy of life.

in Erasmus of Rotterdam’s
Praise of Folly (1509)

A Topical Guide to the Complete Peter Leroy (so far) is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, dialogues, settings, and businesses portrayed in it are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. 

All rights reserved. No part of this guide may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. 

Portions of A Topical Guide to the Complete Peter Leroy (so far) were first published by Voyager, Inc., as part of The Complete Peter Leroy (so far).

The illustration at the top of the page is an adaptation of an illustration by Stewart Rouse that first appeared on the cover of the August 1931 issue of Modern Mechanics and Inventions. The boy at the controls of the aerocycle doesn’t particularly resemble Peter Leroy—except, perhaps, for the smile.