It took about a year to chase down things. Other flatulence-themed books had been done, yet Dawson saw a crack ready to be filled. There are a couple of other fart books out there, but they get into all this gastrointestinal stuff, not so much the cultural aspect. Also, they tended to write in sort of a smarmy way, loading up on the puns. I tried to stay away from too much of that.
Farts have their own inherent humor.
They don't need any help from me. Le Petomane accompanied an orchestra, farting well-modulated notes, on key, in the appropriate spots. Imitations of a little girl, a bride on her wedding night, and a dressmaker tearing two yards of calico were also staples of his act. No wonder Le Petomane outsold even Sarah Bernhardt, whose talent came from a more conventional orifice. Le Petomane grew rich from his blasting, moved into a chalet with servants and sired 10 children.