Oh, you are so sweet!.......
(*Today I am murning someone, too
.....my mother in law died, at 16.00pm of this spring day.
Tomorrow morning I will fly to Naples for her
her funeral>
we had the same name, Erminia
( a name so rare that maybe in your entire life you maybe meet only another
women called the same...... and that was her).
I will not be in touch for a while.
I hope life is generous with you, meanwhiel, little genious.
EP
----- Original Message -----
From: <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Monday, April 24, 2000 7:02 PM
Subject: Re: PeeWee Hermeneia's cunning linguistics [was Re: Saffo? I hope
not.....]
> EP e' morto! Viva EP! (Say, isn't that what they used to call
> Evans-Pritchard? Any relation?)
>
> You are cheering me up, too, roedeer sole, when I am so sad over
> Doug Oliver's death. And how he would have loved your "infinite
> chances of Being"! He became very interested in bees when he wrote
> his Cave poem, you know, and we used to joke about the Great Chain
> of Beeing. I've just been musing on a lovely story he told me he
> read in a Renaissance book called _The Feminine Monarchie_ (which
> had reversed a long poetic tradition, going back to Vergil at
> least, of male queen bees): a beekeeper once put a Communion wafer
> at the entrance to his hive in hopes of increasing honey production.
> When he later examined the hive, he discovered--Doug said--that the
> bees had made a wax cathedral "and were flying around it sweetly
> humming."
>
> What did Voltaire whisper in my "infant ear"? He said (in French,
> of course--this is just a rough, preschool-girl translation):
> "Littlebig-ette, no matter how long a baguette life begets you,
> never forget that half a loaf is NOT better than none."
>
> From the Vicarage, Durham
>
> ___________________________________________________________
> >Dear Candida,
> >
> >today, 12.40 a.m, I am dead in my hotel room.
> >Thank you very much for you many jokes that cheered me up,
> >while getting stiffer.
> >My lower limbs already turned blue, all my beauty gone,
> >I contemplate the infinite chances of Being.
> >The TV is still on, someone is talking:
> >the Italian handsome Prime Minister D'Alema, has resigned.
> >Fair enough!
> >Il Re e' morto! Viva il Re!
> >
> >And I, what do I say, in my corrupted flash, between axe and stoke ,
> >waiting with wide-opened eyes?
> >I say : "Dear Candice, how about Voltaire?
> >What did he whisper in your infant ear?
> >Apologies, dear Soul, for all the troubles that caused you to learn your
> >language."
> >
> >Dearly yours, EP
> ___________________________________________________________________
> >> Apologies in turn, sandal-wing, for my sharpish tone! Don't know
> >> what it is about Good Friday that always puts me in such a Bad
> >> Moody, but all this dirty talk on Easter Sunday is making me feel
> >> cheerful as a resurrection (wishin' you a Burkin' Hare day, too).
> >>
> >> To answer your questions below--by all means, call me "Candida,"
> >> if you like, for it is well known that I come from the Land of
> >> Hams (pace Circe), and your Terry Southern Italian dialect is
> >> udderly irresistible.
> >>
> >> A "come-on" is the "ordinary language" term for what philosophers
> >> of the Wittgensteinian ilk call a proposition. As for the lewdic
> >> "Mister Viv" and your queries re Penelope (Nope), Circe (C above,
> >> er, minnie-haha), Nausica (Miss Prince, don't make me sick!)--now
> >> ulyssen to me, Charmeneia, I am of course the very one you left
> >> out of your reckoning: APOCALYPSO. [Say, Viv, think Reg could
> >> interest Her Mes Jesty in a little sportswear avant elle pass
> >> ananty?]
> >>
> >> As beautiful as U2? Heaven forfend! You will be envy-green to hear
> >> that I'm as ugly as Sappho--an embarrassment of grasses (if not so
> >> long on lasses)--bleu-frommage caked and round-faced as the moon on
> >> cortisone--
> >>
> >> Porcinea
> >>
> >> What-ho the Boatman? Cometh yet?
> _______________________________________________________________________
> >> >And how about your name: do you mind if I call you Candida, with all
the
> >> >sweet implications that the name implies?
> >> >"Candida e pura come un fiore.
> >> >Candidamente casta come il sole.
> >> >Gnetile tu mi appari all'imbrunire."
> >> >(By the way... for cultural barriers I have a problem with phrasal
verbs
> >in
> >> >English; What do you mean when you say : ("besides your come-ons to
Viv,
> >I
> >> >mean.) , I did not catch your allusions to Mister Viv who was so
charming
> >as
> >> >to exchange ludic poetic language games about Ulysses? Could you
explain
> >> >better the matter? Are you his Penelope? His Circe? His Nausica?
> >> >
> >> >I am sorry to have been unable to understand the tone of your letter
> >> >completely.
> >> >Sorry also to have offended your Saffo (whose poetry, as I have
pointed
> >out
> >> >in my letter, I deeply, immensely admire).
> >> >A last question, dear Candice: are you beautiful as me too?
> >> >Sorry for my misprints: I am long sighted and short of glasses.
> >> >EP
>
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