Based on his published letters,1940 was a busy year for T.S.Eliot. He was based in London and working at Faber and Faber as editor and director. I’ve picked out a few (mostly) bookish highlights here. In January he enjoyed an evening with Stephen Spender, and tut-tutted about his domestic tangles commenting: The irregularities of that group of young people are…
I once shared the idea that ‘cellar door’ was considered by some to be the most beautiful sounding phrase in the English language. The sixth grade thought this was ridiculous and soon put me right. I remember “holy macaroni” being one of their top contenders. Language changes and feelings about words change. Even the most prescriptive linguist knows that. It’s…
Two poets in a muddle. Or rather two poems. John Ashbery’s A Mood of Quiet Beauty (from April Galleons 1987) meets T.S.Eliot’s first Prelude (Prufrock and Other Observations, 1917) You can read the originals at those links. In the spirit of OuLiPo – and just for the playful hell of it – I switched out the nouns in each poem in…
Many people know that the poet T. S. Eliot was very fond of cats and indeed created some wonderful cat characters and wrote poems about them. Many people also know that he loved practical jokes – things like exploding cigars and farting cushions. They may also know that he was a fan of detective fiction and wrote reviews for The…
OuLiPo meets Anapestic Tetrameter and the mad, bad and dangerous to know Bored Lyeron The Seduction of Sir Knack-a-Rib The Shakespearian came down like the gulf on the wold, And his so-shorts were gleaming like sonnets of old; And the spleen of their shears was like spars on the spree, When the blue shave rolls nightly on deep valley free.…
Daffodil: good fortune; pleasure; contentment; joy. – from the surrealist dictionary definition generator. Windy today so lots of daffodils nodding and bobbing about in the cheese. Here’s something from the Oulipo Compendium that’s not quite Wordsworth: The Imbeciles I wandered lonely as a crowd That floats on high o’er valves and ills When all at once I saw a shroud,…
February came and went. As Februarys do. As we approach the anniversary of “the year of living hunkered” in what we call our gilded cage, I’m reflecting on the month. We had snow. Lots of it. Then more snow. This made for some icy walks and some muddy walks and early morning vistas of pink and white. The head beam…