Blottentots, and How to Make Them

In Short

Part instruction manual and part collection of nonsense verse, this book explores the parlor art of "Blottentots"—figures created by folding paper over wet ink. Through a series of rhythmic poems, each paired with a bizarre, ink-stained illustration, the reader meets a parade of fanciful beings like the "Kangar-rooster-roo" and the "Gobble-Me-Up." It serves as both a creative prompt for the curious and a delightful artifact of early twentieth-century whimsy, capturing the joy of finding order and personality within the chaos of a random stain.

The Story

The narrative begins with a formal introduction to the "Prince of the Inky Imps," an anthropomorphized ink blot who claims a royal pedigree born of a crease and a fold. This establishes the book's central premise: that the world is teeming with "wonderland" creatures waiting to be liberated from the inkwell. The author positions himself not as a creator, but as a discoverer, documenting the strange inhabitants that emerge from "the blindest chancerie."

The journey proceeds through a gallery of these discovered beings. We encounter the "Flitter-Flitter-Flitters," which dance across imaginary meads, and the "Gobble-Me-Up," a creature whose monstrous mouth prompts a humorous inquiry about its dietary preferences. The tone is consistently lighthearted, shifting from the absurd to the slightly mischievous. We meet pairs like "Tom and Johnny," the lazy lawmakers who balance on a "Thingumajig," and the argumentative "Dr. Spindleshanks" and "Dr. Funnywig," who engage in a professional tiff before scurrying away.

As the collection deepens, the scope expands to include literary and historical figures reimagined as blots. The famous Nell Gwynne appears in a moment of delightful anachronism, while a scene from Shakespeare’s Macbeth is invoked to frame the meeting of two dark, ink-born twins. The creatures grow increasingly erratic; some, like the "Squidgeecumsquee," encounter their own duplicates in trees and react with horror, while others, like the "Pugnoses," struggle with the physical limitations of their ink-drawn bodies, unable to reach the roses they desire.

The middle section delves into the "science" of the craft. The author provides earnest, tongue-in-cheek advice on how to improve one's technique, suggesting the use of different ink thicknesses to produce "mottled and gray" effects. Yet, the author is quick to remind us that these shapes are "silly contradictions" that simply "came" into existence. There is no rigid control; the ink dictates the form, and the poet provides the voice.

The arc concludes with a sense of passing the torch. The author moves from his own discoveries—the "Cassowaries" and "Dromedaries"—to an invitation for the reader to take up the pen. In the final address, he acknowledges the limits of his own cataloging, noting that while he has identified many, there are countless more waiting in the ink. With a gentlemanly tip of the cap, he steps aside, leaving the reader with nothing but the blank page and the promise that the next creature is only a splash and a fold away.

How It Unfolds

The invitation to create The author lays out the simple methodology for manifesting a Blottentot. He emphasizes the necessity of caution, warning that a heavy hand or a misplaced crease will result in a messy puddle rather than a living creature.

The parade of sprites A succession of vignettes introduces the reader to the various denizens of the ink-world. Each creature is defined by its specific, often comical personality, ranging from the fidgety grass midget to the high-jumping, toe-stepping sprite.

The technical refinement The narrative briefly pauses to offer advanced tips on ink manipulation and paper pressure. This section bridges the gap between passive observation and active participation, encouraging the reader to experiment with different mediums.

The literary crossover The book winks at the reader by blending the absurd creatures with recognizable cultural touchstones. By casting famous historical figures and dramatic scenes as ink blots, the author highlights the elasticity of the medium.

The final handover The book ends with a gentle farewell that refocuses the reader on their own potential. By claiming to have run out of specific shapes to name, the author effectively pushes the reader toward the inkwell to begin their own discoveries.

The People

The central figure is the author himself, acting as a guide and a self-deprecating master of ceremonies. He is an enthusiast of "chancerie," fascinated by the intersection of artistic control and total accident. He wants nothing more than to share the secret of his "marvelous way" of creating art.

Then there are the Blottentots themselves, who serve as the true protagonists. They are a restless, eccentric group. Characters like the "Lanky Doodle" or the "Kangar-rooster-roo" are defined by their physical limitations and their strange, often contradictory behaviors. They are not merely pictures; they are described as having intentions, fears, and rivalries.

Finally, there is the reader, who is cast as an apprentice. The author addresses this reader directly, challenging them to move past the stage of "fearful muddle" and into the confidence of a creator. Through this relationship, the reader ceases to be a mere observer and becomes the final link in the chain, responsible for the next generation of ink-born beings.

In Its Own Voice

Regarding the necessity of practice in mastering this peculiar art:

With everything we humans do, Practice makes us apter: So start at once, you'll find it true At the end of your first chapter.

Regarding the humility required to accept the results of a random ink-spill:

But word for word I tell you, As true as word can be, That in its making there was naught But the blindest chancerie.

Regarding the unpredictable and often humorous nature of these creations:

Such angular shapes In such beautiful capes Are the silliest contradiction, But they simply "came," So I'm not to blame; With Blottentots there's no restriction.

What It's Really About

The book is a meditation on the beauty of imperfection. It argues that creativity does not always require a steady hand or a grand plan; often, the most interesting results come from embracing the chaotic, unpredictable nature of the medium. It explores the tension between human agency and the "blind chancerie" of chance. By turning ink spills into characters, the author suggests that our perception is what gives form to the world. It poses the question of whether we find meaning in the world or whether we project it onto random patterns. Ultimately, it is a celebration of play, asserting that if one looks closely enough, even the most mundane mistake can become a source of delight.

Why Read It Today

Modern readers who appreciate the intersection of art and play will find much to love here. It offers a refreshing break from the polished, digital perfection of contemporary media, returning to the tactile, messy, and deeply human experience of creating something by hand. It feels like a quiet afternoon in an old library, whispering of forgotten parlor games and the simple joy of an active imagination.

However, a reader must be prepared for the whimsy of a bygone era. The poetry is light, often verging on the silly, and the humor is characteristic of its 1907 origin—charming, slightly old-fashioned, and entirely unpretentious. If you are looking for a deep, complex plot, you will be disappointed; if you are looking for a creative spark to clear the cobwebs from your mind, you will find it in spades. The language is clear and rhythmic, making it an excellent companion for a leisurely read. It stays with you not because of its intellectual weight, but because of its invitation to look at a simple drop of ink and see a monster, a prince, or a dancing sprite staring back at you. It is a reminder that creativity is always within reach, provided you are willing to make a little bit of a mess.