Thankee. You can listen to the first four books of the Limerick Iliad here
http://thejeunessedoree.libsyn.com/
And I think it’s quite easy to see that the sublime rhythm of the limerick is maintained throughout. The problem with scansion you seem to have utterly baffles me. Here is a section starting close to the verse you cite and it seems to me that the limerick rhythm is intact -- as much as the rhythm of blank verse is intact in the Bard’s later plays, for example.
Of course, there are artful variations…have to be…otherwise the celestial music becomes an insistent thumping. For example, notice the drop here
When Mentor suggested he go to
The deck.
The reader is forced to pause at the end -- and this is what is well, funny -- and makes it possible to write limerick after limerick, tell a story, and not be bored.
And, of course, the limerick form is not only defined by certain metrical requirements (however gracefully improved upon) but by what Eliot has not called “The Matter of the Limerick.”
For example, a series of limericks in which nothing is juvenile or scatological would be an abomination. Generations of practitioners of the form must be listened to -- hence Nestor’s “weenie” and all of this would have been set forth in the limerick section of “Tradition and the Individual Talent” had Eliot written such a section.
The limerick is honored throughout the poem from the beginning where the sexual fetishes of Joyce and Homer are compared, to the middle in which Odysseus is attacked by the Klan and saved by James Brown and the International Brotherhood of Railway Porters to the end in which Odysseus finds himself under the boardwalk of Atlantic city, 1958 with Mr. Pickwick staring mournfully (it seems) at the sea and George Burns finally arriving bringing the Grace that saves Odysseus.
The ship arrived and there on the sand
Was Nestor with a samba band
And the usual crew
To do what they do:
Killing bulls for Poseidon the Grand.
Telemachus was snoozing with Toto
When Mentor suggested he go to
The deck.
T. said "What the heck"
And tried to recover his mojo.
There were 900 times 5 on the beach
And all calling each each to each
And dining on tripe
And bullocks and snipe
And no one was eating a peach.
Yes, there were nine groups of 500 on the beach
And everyone calling each to each
They were devouring entrails
And guzzling wine served in pails
Conveniently placed within reach.
There was a chapel to scrapple
And there the Pylosites would dapple
Their lips with the entrails
Of bullocks and whales
And with huge thigh bones would grapple.
The young man's heart was a-rending
Because at this time he was tending
To be a contrarian
And a strict vegetarian
And, besides, he was bullockbefriending.
But Mentor just shouted "Let's go!
This is the kingdom of Nestor you know
And he will be glad
Because he liked your Dad."
Telemachus closed his eyes and said "No."
Then tried to think of excuses.
And said to Mentor "The truth is
I'm shy
And Nestor's such a tough guy
I don't really know what the use is."
For he had spied the King on the sand
And he was doing pushups -- with only one hand
Up and down went his weenie
Poking from his bikini
Which couldn't contain his huge kingly gland.
For deep within old Nestor's palace
Was the most potent sort of Cialis
Given to Nestor
By a satyr named Lester
In a topless bar down in West Dallas.
"Ah, Mentor tell me...my guess is
Those nude fellows doing bench presses
In a sort of a ring
Almost surrounding the King
Are the princes (a thought which depresses)."
And Mentor said "You're damn right-o!
Look at their pecs -- and they can fight-o!
But Telemachus sighed
And he almost cried.
Damn it -- something just wasn't right-o.
Was he really the son of Odysseus?
His build was closer to the Genus Sissyus.
He thought himself "imperially slim"
But the joke was on him.
This engendered an adolescent crisius.
He shivered there in the sea breeze.
Athena could sense his unease.
But he grew bolder
When she touched his shoulder.
He appeared like a young Hercules!
And, of course she thought it'd be way cool
Though some might think it quite cruel:
She transformed Toto
Into a proto
Two headed six-balled Pit Bull.
"My name is Rambo Telemachuspous
And I have strength of a Cantabrigian catapultapous
I roam strange lands
And I've come to these sands
Sent by the the Sanctimonious Octopus.
My hound's name is Chrysanthropus Chrysalis.
We come bearing the sign of the phallus.
Greetings great King.
Of thee we sing
In the suburbs of Far Western Dallas."
The speech seems a tad bit inflated
But Athena patiently waited.
There was a pause.
Then several rounds of applause.
T's rhetoric seemed highly rated.
"I come to you seeking my Papa
And, so sorry, this is just a brief stop
A word of Odysseus
(This bull's thigh's delicious)
And I'm off to seek my dear Papa."
King Priam bounded over the sand
And took Telemachus by the hand.
"You? You're the one?
You're that dear man's son?
Come here sweet boy! This is grand."
Priam's face was bewrinkled. His hair grizzled.
But the rest of him was perfectly chiseled.
And all those Cilaises
Had given him four pectoralisis
And what looked like a giant bull's pizzle.
And he called out to his lieges and vassals
To drink up and cry out many wassails
There was a great vox humana
As they went to the cabana
He explained it was his summer castle.
He lounged there on a fine throne
Looking quite like Sylvester Stallone
And said "Oh, my boy.
I will tell you of Troy."
Then he wept and gave a low moan.
“Your Daddy has been in my prayers
Last time I saw him he was bareassed
He had a dose
From the Priestess of Kos
Ah, we were a fine bunch of slayers.
Did you know that after old Troy was sacked-o
Your daddy said he’d turn back-o
We were already at sea
Some of the guys and me
Oh, so many got whacked-o.
You Dad said he’d rejoin the King
Which was, I’m afraid, the wrong thing
For the King was at Troy
And that seemed to annoy
Poseidon who promised he’d bring
All sorts of troubles and woes
You Dad said “Well that’s the way that it goes.”
And he turned back
With a complete lack of tact
With a boatful of varlets and ho’s.
Your father seemed -- can I say-- strangely changed
And more than a little deranged
And a strange entertainment
Showed his derangement
At nights on the boat he arranged
Something he called “Vaudeville.”
I don’t understand it and I never will
He stood on the stage
A man of his age…
With a Phrygian trollop named :Lil.
He wore a strange hat. Had a cane.
And what he did next seemed insane
He danced and he burbled
About a lost love named “Myrtle”
While the trollop was shakin’ her thang.
He stopped and told terrible jokes
Referred to his warriors as “mokes”
Then did a lewd dance
While that trollop did prance
Until an enchanted pig said “That’s all folks!”
Then the heaven's began to thunder
And the pig admitted his blunder
And Odysseus came back
With another strange act:
Baby Alice the Midget Wonder!
This went on for nine nights
And during each night there appeared a strange light
A ray from star
That moved here and thare
As they danced and sang in delight.
On the ninth night we were sipping sauternes--
On the deck. I expressed my concerns
Then down from a star
Came a strange god with a cigar.
Odysseus said. "By the gods that's George Burns!"
He said "You think I'm God -- prima facie
But I think God is Count Basie.
Here have a cigar.
I got to get back to that star.
I'm still looking for Gracie."
Then your father --if you'd seen his face--
Said "That's it I must go find Grace!"
The jumped over the bow
And climbed up the prow
Of his ship -- and left with no a trace.
My guess is that your Dad is at sea
Suffering from PTSD.
Perhaps there's more to find out.
Go ask Menelaus.
And now let's talk about me!"
Which he did until Dawn's rosy fingers
Suggested that they should not linger.
Then they hopped on a freight
That stopped at Track 8
To pick up some Singapore slingers.
kasper salonen <[log in to unmask]> wrote: ok, this has obviously been a respectfuly epic undertaking (no pun
intended, what with "peril of death"..), & I congratulate you on
finishing BOTH homeric paperweights.
the limericks make for a tone that is farcically light, amusing, &
delightfully sacrilidgeous...
BUT (& this is the Critical Response part of this response)
to begin with, this is an absolute pain to read. it really is. the
fenangling with fitting the phrases into the limerick form is like
watching a fat woman put on a corset. most of the attempts are
humorous because they're so obviously a struggle to fit & rhyme, but
fairly soon this becomes tiresome. with this reading, I would suggest
that the ENTIRE thing be proofread & rewritten with much closer
adherance ot the limerick metre to make this smooth -- though I'm not
volunteering for the job.
HOWEVER (& this is the Verdict part of this response)
I've discovered that if both these epics are read as free verse,
rather than as limericks with the limerick metre in mind, it reads
better & practically without snags -- all snags, whatsmore, seem
unabashed & intentional. it seems that the only part of the 'limerick'
mindset that should be retained when reading these is the necessity
for (iconically chlidish) rhyme, the scheme & vague length of the
lines, & the wildly flailing tendency for the ridiculous (which makes
the Odyssey & Iliad great candidates for the project to begin with) --
the only problem for me personally is, with my metric background going
back to junior high, that I can't shake the desire to read this as
tadaTUM tadaTUM tadaTUM. that, however, is my problem. the rhymes &
sentence sonstructions are close to comic genius at times, & some are
simply pleasing
>The ship arrived and there on the sand
>Was Nestor with a samba band
>And the usual crew
>To do what they do:
>Killing bulls for Poseidon the Grand.
SO (& this is the Conclusion part of this response)
well done & thanks.
KS
On 20/06/07, joe green wrote:
> The Limerick Odyssey is done:
>
> http://limerickodyssey.blogspot.com/
>
> and the Limerick Iliad is complete
>
> http://limerickiliad.blogspot.com/
>
> So much for the world as it is.
---------------------------------
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