There's a fine painting of Mariana by Millais. It doesn't seem to be on the
internet, but it's often reproduced in poetry anthologies which include the
poem. It's one of my favorite pictures, half because of its evocative and
startlingly frank portrayal of frustrated sexuality, half for the camp value
of its heavyhanded symbolism. For example, dry leaves are falling on
Mariana's knitting, and through the window we can glimpse a fallow field. The
painting is crammed with things like that.
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Among the pre-Raphaelites I think that Burne-Jones is the best graphic artist,
while Millais has the best dramatic sense. But for sheer hilarilous camp
value, there's no one like Holman Hunt.
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Supposedly there exists a recording of Tennyson reading "Maude," but I've
never been able to track it down. (Tennyson's reading of "The Bugle Song" and
"The Charge of the Light Brigade" are included on the CD of the Poetry Speaks
anthology.)
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I've always included "The Goblin Market" firmly in the ranks of unintentional
self-parodies. If I were compiling an anthology which was supposed to be the
definitive collection of English verse, I might with a straight face have
included the whole. damn. thing. as a sort of twisted joke, but I doubt
Christopher Ricks shares my eccentric sense of humor. There's a deadly parody
of Christina Rossetti by A. C. Hilton under the title "Ding Dong." A few
lines:
"Like an apple?"
"Yes I should."
"Nice, nice, nicey!
Good, good, good!"
"Manners miss,
Please behave,
Those who ask,
Shan't have."
It's available in its entirety in The Random House book Parodies.
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On a wall in Roman Spain is inscribed:
Linge Leli, linge Leli, linge Leli Falculam!
Licinius fecit
[Laelius suck, Laelius suck, Laelius suck Falcula!
signed, Licinius]
(All three names are male.) I'm not sure what this proves, except maybe that
the Roman Empire also sucked. Odd and somewhat poignant to think that
Licinius et al. by this act are now immortalized as Buecheler-Lommatzsch
Carmina Latina Epigraphica number 1900.
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Thanks to Anny Ballardini for the reference to philosophical humor, which will
afford an unending source of innocent amusement. For some reason it reminds
me of The Pooh Perplex. Do people still read that? It used to be part of the
rite of passage of being a graduate student. I still smile whenever I think
of "the by Freud described Little Hans" (and me a Freudian.)
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Jon Corelis [log in to unmask]
www.geocities.com/joncpoetics
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