(Photo: Ignatius J. Reilly bronze statue on Canal Street. | Todd Murray | CC Flickr) John Kennedy Toole, late author of Confederacy of Dunces, was born on this day, Dec. 17, 1937 in New Orleans. Happy Birthday.
Toole’s novel is considered an original fictional piece and hailed as a Southern comedic classic. The book is praised for its picturesque and highly accurate descriptions of people, sounds and sights in the French Quarter and beyond at the time.
Ignatius J. Reilly, the story’s protagonist, is a slightly overweight, anti-modern and somewhat delusional 30-something-year-old man living with his mom and who blames his misfortune on the world around him. Yet he became so loved by the people of New Orleans that they erected a bronze statue of him in front the Hyatt Centric hotel in the 800 block of Canal Street, along the French Quarter side, in 1996.
But Toole would not ever live to see the success of his work.
Toole’s attempts to publish his book were unsuccessful. Despite interest from Simon and Schuster, Toole became disillusioned with the editing process and fell into a deep depression.
In the years following the rejections, Toole’s became increasingly erratic and paranoid. He committed suicide in Biloxi, Miss. on March 26, 1969 at the age of 31, after running a garden hose from the exhaust pipe into the cab of his car.
Coincidentally, Toole died on the birthday of Tennessee Williams, a famed playwright who wrote the “Vieux Carre” script from his apartment located at 722 Toulouse St.
For the next five years, Toole’s mother, Thelma, pushed for the publication of his novel and was ultimately successful in getting it published under Louisiana State University Press in 1980. Thelma died in 1984.
The following year, in 1981, Confederacy of Dunces won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.
Dated June/July of 2010, Quarter Rat’s sixteenth edition was dedicated to the females of the French Quarter, or “ladies of the Vieux Carre,” including, but not limited to, the shot girls, strippers, bartenders and even the tourists.
It was essentially Quarter Rat’s “swimsuit issue,” but with Xeroxed photos of amateur models. And it wasn’t as colorful as previous issues. In fact, it had only three colors: black, white, and pink front and back pages. As with past issues, it was printed in a zine format.
Many of the photocopied pictures include female service industry workers, some of whom you may recognize. Do any of them still work in the French Quarter?
“We’ll stand up and salute the beautiful girls who keep ’em stiff for us every night… the drinks that is,” wrote Otis B. Easy. “These service industry girls went the extra mile for you readers. So when you see them, buy them a shot, throw them a tip, ask them to marry you or just tell them ‘thank you.'”
The issue was published shortly before the 2010 World Cup and is filled with raunchy, audacious tales illustrating the evolutionary motivations that drive commercial and personal behavior in the French Quarter: money and sex.
In one piece, seasoned bartender Jenna Tonic writes a story of how she sold her sweaty pair of $5 Victoria Secret underwear to a middle-aged, drunk male patron for $400, during a bartending shift on Bourbon Street.
“I paid my rent and then I even made a little bit of money bartending that night too,” she wrote. “I was wearing my rent making skirt. It was short. I mean really short. I tried to keep my special lady parts covered as much as possible, but I’m pretty sure my exposed ass is where the rest of my money came from.”
The issue solicited stories in one advertisement, which read:
“Submit your funniest French Quarter Moments in 1,000,000 words or less and receive a free oil-covered nutria and an authentic 2011 Super Bowl Ring. Send submissions, ideas, photos, or anything else to quarterrat@Ymail.com. Also feel free to stop by Molly’s on Toulouse Fri-Mon latenight to share your ideas or suggestions with the editor.”
Alas, Quarter Rat’s Greatest Hits, Vol. 1, a compilation edition containing the first eight issues published in 2009.
Although not specified, this issue was published sometime in the late summer, possibly in August or September of 2009.
By the time this issue was released, 19,000 copies of Quarter Rat were distributed, mostly by hand, according to publisher “Otis B. Easy.”
Featured in this issue is a story of “local legend” Goldie, a man who painted himself in gold for tips; and “Homesick Mississippi Men’s Room Blues,” a seminal literary work of art by writer and Quarter Rat plankowner Jay Slusher.
After a long hiatus, Slusher has returned to writing and plans to submit a comeback piece before the end of the year.
Is this a positive sign the French Quarter is returning to a semblance of a pre-coronavirus normal? We think so. According to the Chinese zodiac cycle, 2020 is the year of the rat. The year may soon be over, but we’re just getting started.
Even though the original Quarter Rat publication technically ended years ago, artist and original staff member Eric T. Styles (who is now lending his talents to TheQuarterRat.com) managed to save at least a dozen separate issues published during its run from 2009 to 2013, and a special issue he produced in 2015.
Like many great rags, the Quarter Rat started as a single page news letter, folded in half twice, with stories from the local hospitality industry. In short time, it grew into a full-color zine wonderfully illustrated with Styles’ zany caricatures of the folks you’ll find in the French Quarter.
I’m in the process of scanning/photographing the images. My scanner broke, so I’m having to rely on my DSLR camera for high-resolution images until I get a new one. The process is a bit tedious and includes a bit of editing with photo software. As you can tell, the images aren’t the best and are blurry in some spots. But I promise you they’ll be replaced once I get better images.
In the meantime, enjoy the back issues. They will be published at least once each week as I make the time to scan/photograph each one. They could be published individually or in groups, depending on the progress.
Now that the archive mission has started, I’m looking for any QR issue I don’t have. If you still have any copies in your possession, please email dave@thequarrat.com and let me know what you have.
I present you the first Quarter Rat issue, published on March 9, 2009:
Some wonder what it means to be a Quarter Rat, what it takes to survive on dumb luck and forced opportunity. Those of us who make our way here know it takes the right set of eyes to see… Peer behind the curtain, beyond the neon beacons and syrupy, sugar-laden drinks. Look past Bourbon Street, burdened with tacky souvenir shops and thumping disco blare. Amble on; discover the real French Quarter—one that is sacred and profane, placid and chaotic. –M. Bevis
That was the first paragraph from the very first Quarter Rat publication on March 9, 2009. It was printed on a single sheet of legal sized paper folded in half. One ad from Molly’s on Toulouse and a handful of snarky anecdotes about living and working in the French Quarter and lists of annoying tourists questions directed at bartenders: “What’s the cheapest thing you have?”; “Right now, it’s you.”
Soon the local fanzine became a much sought-after collectible. A cultlike following formed from the Bourbon Street hospitality workers eager for an outlet to rage about their experiences from the service industry trenches. Within a year, the Quarter Rat expanded to 18 pages filled with tales of breaking up drunken Texan brawls, more stupid questions from patrons, strippers farting on customers, getting drunk and/or fired at work and hallucinating mascots assaulted by drag queens.
It was a cathartic release for the frontline, boots-on-the-ground service industry folk whose daily workplace was (and still is, for some) the French Quarter. It was a support group of sorts for the veterans of the most chaotic tourist destination in the country. We count our tours of duty by how many Mardi Gras we fight and survive through. Sitting at the local dive bars we remember those co-workers from seasons past who had enough and moved back home. When they recounted their stories from the Quarter, no one believed them.
Advertising in the magazine increased to at least an ad per page and all were directed at our readers—the locals. Ads included drink specials from our favorite local haunts, the best places for an inexpensive lunch during a shift, record shops and dominatrixes offering services. There were never ads from the big name tourist joints that we actually worked at and for two reasons: we would not be caught dead as a customer at our place of work and this was not necessarily a publication for tourists.
In an alternate universe, Lee Harvey Oswald could have been a patsy for the Quarter Rat.
The real secret for it was that it never took itself too seriously. The rag published sophomoric humor, embellished tales of actual French Quarter encounters, photos of scantily clad bartenders, bodily function jokes and the boast of “Now with 30% more typos.” The rodent mascot summed it up the best: we ain’t Disney World.
Several failed revivals sought to cash in on the tourist ad revenue, which was perceived as lucrative. That is why they failed in bringing it back. It was never for the tourists, it was always about them.
A few well known Bourbon Street establishments would refuse a stack of Quarter Rats dropped off on their cigarette machines. Some owners screamed at employees if they were even caught reading it at work, according to a few witnesses. Articles written by ex-employees blasting back at their former employers with libelous accusations and accounts of less-than-ideal work environments. This eventually contributed to the demise of advertising from business owners who saw it as crossing the line.
The mastermind behind this anti-publication went by the alias of Otis B. Easy: a charming, convincing and quite possibly sociopathic individual who could best be compared to the character Tyler Durden from Fight Club. Every bartender and kitchen help having a smoke in an alley, or street performer would wave to Otis and ask “When’s the next one coming out?”
When a new issue was released, on several occasions, a parade of topless young women organized Quarter Rat deliveries to our distribution locations. Local artists painted their breasts with themes of Christmas, Halloween or whatever was the topic of that issue. I watched these topless dancers and barmaids snatch handfuls of the magazine from a shopping cart and run into bars with fistfuls of issues to the delight of employees and customers alike. At most every location, a bartender or customer offered to buy shots for the girls.
The days before COVID-19. We shall overcome.
As the ensemble reached the 800 block of Bourbon Street, things started fall apart. The now-wasted delivery girls would carelessly fling handfuls of magazines into an open bar and onto unsuspecting customers and staff. Half-naked women pulling a combative half-naked woman off a tourist may have presented the wrong image. By the time the final box of magazines was dropped off on lower Decatur Street, the group was scattered across three blocks. Some were MIA, while another was passed out in the shopping cart. Only Otis could have managed to organize such an event.
I came into the creative mix in October of 2010 for issue #18. I moved to New Orleans determined to make it as an artist. I was a little fish in a big pond filled with established local artists. I stumbled across one of those Craiglist ads asking for free artwork in return for exposure. “What the fuck, it’s a chance to get seen.”
From that point on I did the covers and additional artwork, as well as some writing for the QR. I located to the French Quarter and found myself being dragged from bar to bar, introduced to bartenders, dancers and bouncers who all knew my work. “I am Jack’s success.”
Don’t ever change, French Quarter.
The highlight for me was a full page ad I designed for Bourbon Street’s Deja Vu strip club. I was escorted in by a bouncer who looked like a villain from Die Hard and he took me up to the manager’s office, where Buddha handed me $200. On my way out, a dancer jumped off of the stage and gave me a hug.
After leaving, I stood there and, for a brief moment, relished the fact that I walked out of a strip club with more money than I walked in with. I had climbed the food chain. Mission completed.
If you think we’re making this shit up, pay a visit to the French Quarter.
If you had to place a theme on the Rat, it would be “It’s all about the hustle,” whether it’s a shot girl pushing tubes of nasty tasting liquor, the guy betting you that he knows where you got them shoes or a publisher trying to sell a reality television show idea based on the life of a Quarter Rat. Yea, we tried to go there (we’ll save this story for later).
Given the level of entertainment available at the time, it seemed like it would sell. There was also a hustle for an animated show about life on Bourbon Street. That is another story I won’t go into for the time being, but it was a fitting end to the Quarter Rat and appropriate in so many ways, with poetic perfection. In hindsight, it was the best thing never to happen to me.
The final issue of Quarter Rat magazine was issue #30 for Mardi Gras 2013. Shortly after the abrupt ending to that incarnation, I was approached by some ambitious hipsters to bring back the publication and to capitalize on the still fervent cult following of the publication. Quarter Rat Monthly lasted two months. My buddy Eddie gave me $200 to do an issue in May 2015, Quarter Rat Digest. I was constantly being asked to do another issue. In 2016, I produced a full issue based on my comic “Binge.” I paid for 500 copies printed in China and charged a $5 cover price to offset the total absence of advertisers. I still have a couple of cases left. “Fuck this art shit, I’ll just sweep bars for now on.”
Now here we are with TheQuarterRat.com. For a while I had occasional contact with a writer who wanted to do something with this enigmatic legacy. I kind of kept blowing him off after having a dozen people approaching me over the years with notions continuing the premise. He was persistent and seemed to have some talent so I tossed him the logo with a “Good luck with that buddy” and a snicker. I was surprised to hear back from him with a link to a decent looking news site for the French Quarter. I only contribute opinionated libertarian rant pieces and locally themed memes. It’s enough for me for now.
I’m pleased to see that, much like the publication’s totem animal, the quarter rat hasn’t been exterminated.
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