Posts filed under “Books & Literature”
ON THIS DAY IN HISTORY.
ON THIS DAY in 1398, Geoffrey Chaucer sold the television rights to the Wife of Bath’s Tale for 2s. 6d. Unfortunately, it would be nearly five and a half centuries before commercial television was widely available, and the farsighted investor who bought the rights died penniless in St. Dunstan’s Home for the Incurably Optimistic.
DR. BOLI’S ENCYCLOPEDIA OF MISINFORMATION.
Literary Supplement.
Dickens, Charles. Charles Dickens was not paid by the word: that is a popular misapprehension. He was paid by the syllable.
Hawthorne, Julian. Julian Hawthorne inherited all his father Nathaniel’s prodigious literary talent, but straitened circumstances forced him to pawn it.
Hemingway, Ernest. Psychiatrists have determined that Hemingway’s trademark literary style was the result of a severe case of attention deficit disorder.
Joyce, James. When he was sober, James Joyce was completely unable to interpret his own Finnegans Wake.
Shakespeare, William. William Shakespeare sold the dramatic adaptation rights for The Phoenix and the Turtle to John Fletcher, but Richard Burbage described Fletcher’s play as “unproducible.”
Sterne, Laurence. Laurence Sterne was so furious at his printer’s emendations to the first volume of Tristram Shandy that he finally took a brush and entirely covered the most objectionable page in the proof with black ink. The printer, mistaking this effusion of bad temper for one of Sterne’s typographical peculiarities, printed the whole page black—much to Sterne’s private amusement.
Zola, Emile. Astonishingly, it is reported that Emile Zola believed his surreal soap opera Nana was “realistic.”
FORTHCOMING WORKS BY DR. BOLI.
Archaeology of the Middle Reagan Period. A complete field manual for archaeologists working on this historically important period in our remote past. With his accustomed thoroughness, Dr. Boli shows where the most important remains of the Reagan Period can be found; how to identify remains of the period by its characteristic markers (such as the ubiquitous litter of Los Angeles Olympics memorabilia and Coca-Cola cans with the word “New” prominently displayed); how to conserve such fragile artifacts as LCD watches, primitive personal computers, and fast-food premiums; and how the Institute for North American Archaeology successfully reconstructed and displayed a remarkably complete Plymouth Reliant. Handy size for field work. 12mo, 264 pp.
FORTHCOMING WORKS BY DR. BOLI.
Dr. Boli’s Practical Manual of Lithiculture. For everyone who keeps a rock garden, or who has ever dreamed of keeping a rock garden, this book is a positively indispensable tool. Beginning (in his usual fashion) with fundamental principles, Dr. Boli introduces his readers to the elements of geology according to the Huttonian theory. Upon that foundation he builds a thorough discussion of the different types of native stone and soil found in different parts of the country, and from there proceeds to a catalogue of the most commonly cultivated rocks. Succeeding chapters cover in detail the selection of particular rocks for particular soils, planting and care of various rock species, propagation of rocks from gravel, and various schemes (with plans and diagrams) for naturalizing rocks in large plots. Illustrated with numerous copper engravings (hand-colored in the Deluxe Edition). 8vo, 238 pp.
DOCTRINES OF THE ANCIENT PHILOSOPHERS.
No. 2.—Imbecilis of Gaul.
IMBECILIS WAS BORN on a farm near the small provincial city of Conundrum in southwestern Gaul, and it was his agricultural background that gave his philosophy its distinctive character. He founded a school in his native city, and he confidently predicted that Conundrum would soon rival Alexandria and Athens as a center of learning. Although his prediction proved unjustifiably optimistic, Imbecilis did attract a few ambitious students from the surrounding suburbs, and one of them (by the name of Aviatrix of Conundrum) has left us an Epitome of the Teachings of the Illustrious Imbecilis, to which is prefixed a life of the philosopher.
Imbecilis accepted the four elements of traditional Greek philosophy, but added a fifth, which he said was the generative principle that gave the universe growth and motion. This fifth element he termed “manure.” Three of these elements—earth, water, and manure—he called “primary,” and the other two “secondary.” The primary elements generated the secondary elements in this way: earth and water combined to form what Imbecilis called “mud,” and by means of manure the mud gave birth to life. From the respiration of life came the element of air, and from the combination of the four elements came the life of the gods. The respiration of the gods was fire, thus completing the five elements.
The philosophy of Imbecilis was thus remarkable for making the life of the gods depend on mortal life, rather than the other way around; and ultimately, as Imbecilis emphasized to his students, even the life of the gods was nothing more than manure and mud.
Imbecilis also entertained some cosmological opinions that were similarly unorthodox. The commonly held belief that the earth was a sphere he denied with the utmost vigor. Instead, he taught that the earth was a mass of irregular shape and texture, resembling the manure as it proceeds fresh from the cow. The mountainous landscape of the countryside around Conundrum was his favorite proof of this assertion: for who, he demanded with a confident sneer, could gaze upon such irregularity and still claim that the earth was a regular solid?
The ethical doctrines of Imbecilis proceeded from his physical doctrines. As the gods proceeded from manure and mud, it was not necessary to worship them, except that it was good and proper to burn manure on their altars every once in a while, as an offering to acknowledge the part manure plays in their lives. For the same reason it was proper to burn manure in front of the doors of prominent men, but one should take care to do it anonymously and run from the scene before being recognized, lest one be praised for one’s piety and become puffed up with pride.
After teaching for several years, Imbecilis died in an agricultural accident too distasteful to narrate here. Aviatrix ran the school for a while as his successor, but he did not have the easy charm of his master: the students drifted away, and the school was condemned by the health department and torn down to make way for a public convenience.
FORTHCOMING WORKS BY DR. BOLI.
Practical Advice for Young Women. In this remarkably frank volume, Dr. Boli fearlessly and candidly addresses the subjects of most pressing concern to the young woman of today. The diabolical snares and temptations of modern life beset a girl at every turn, and it is vitally necessary that some forthright treatment of these dangers be placed into the hands of every young lady as she embarks upon the great adventure of womanhood. Only Dr. Boli dares to lay bare, in the plainest language, the perils of the slippery slope that leads from Kantian metaphysics, to Hegelian phenomenology, to Marxist dialectical materialism, to the deconstructionism of Derrida, to utter perdition and a fate worse than death. An ideal graduation present for every young woman on her way to college. Quarto, 274 pp.
FROM THE CRITICAL EDITION.
A History of the Remarkable Voyage Lately Undertaken On Board the Celebrated Leviathan.
Written by Sir John ——,[1] from his own journals.
The First Day: Our Departure, and My First Encounter with the Duke.
We set sail from the greenish[2] coasts of home on the last day of spring in the year ——, and I do truthfully believe the whole country had turned out to see our departure;—though whether in delight at the new thing we were attempting or in eagerness to be rid of us I cannot say.[3] There was certainly feasting and drunkenness enough on both sides of the affair, among those of us who went and those who stayed. I myself refused most of the wine[4] that flowed so prodigiously, so that I might retain enough of my senses to enjoy the sight of our mighty Leviathan[5] drifting away from the shore for the first time.
That nothing like our expedition has ever been attempted, and that nothing like it will ever be attempted again: of these two things I am equally sure.[6] For the common sense[7] of the scribblers and the talkers at court is that we failed. Yet of that I am not entirely certain. I suppose the memory of our ignominious return is fresher in most minds than the memory of our departure. But our departure was glorious. In all our thousands of years of history, no human eye[8] had ever beheld such a spectacle. We were doing a thing that our wisest heads had told us could never be done; and if we did not make it to the end of our journey, remember that it was the beginning that was said to be impossible.
When at last the gigantic signal flags unfurled and gave the command, and two thousand giant oars, worked in perfect unison by the most ingenious contrivance, began to beat the water with a mighty roar, the cheer that erupted from six thousand throats on our floating city was nearly deafening.[9] Yet it was not so loud that we could not hear the even greater cheer from the land. And when, after perhaps a quarter-hour of rowing, the great sails began to billow, we could still hear the cheering from the coast. Bank after bank of sails unfurled, all brilliantly colored according to their functions, so that the hardy[10] seamen charged with maintaining them could find their way in the forest of canvas.[11] There were red[12] sails, yellow sails, blue sails, and white sails, thousands of them, and as they caught the wind our Leviathan surged forward with a majestic deliberateness that well became her. The cheering on the coast continued, but from us there was only awed silence.[13]
I must have stood silently admiring the spectacle for a good half hour. I might have stood longer, but[14] a carriage arrived with a summons for me to speak with the Duke. One does not refuse the Duke’s invitation, of course, so I immediately boarded the carriage.[15]
[1] The identity of the author, though hidden behind a modest dash, is of course too well known to need any explanation.
[2] E. G. Athelstan chides the author for lack of patriotism, insisting that the coasts of home are simply green and ought straightforwardly to be called green.
[3] It is to be regretted that scientific opinion polls, which might have shed some light on this question, had not yet become as common as they are today.
[4] The fermented juice of Vitis vinifera, the common cultivated grape. Sometimes said to have an intoxicating effect when consumed in quantity.
[5] The choice of a Biblical name for the vessel appears to have aroused some controversy. See, e.g., E. G. Athelstan, Who the H— Do They Think They Are?
[6] I. E. Godwin argues persuasively that this statement is in error, citing numerous accounts of other voyages made in ships of various sorts.
[7] Meant in the Vichian meaning, rather than in any other meaning that might have occurred to you.
[8] Athelstan asks several rather sneering questions about canine, avian, and reptilian eyes, the substance of which need not be repeated here.
[9] Godwin points out that there are no medical records from the voyage indicating an unusual number of auditory complaints, and accuses Sir John of exaggeration.
[10] Meaning that they survive the winter and continue to grow for multiple seasons, as opposed to annual seamen.
[11] Godwin objects that a “forest of canvas” is a botanical impossibility. Williburton emends it to “flourish of canvas.”
[12] Another account of the voyage gives the color of these sails as carmine; research so far has not been able to reconcile the discrepancy.
[13] Williburton emends this to odd silence. Parchefleur reads pawed silence, and believes the allusion is to the silent footsteps of a cat or other feline creature.
[14] Godwin cautions against taking this conjunction too literally.
[15] This very carriage is still preserved in the Museum of Preserved Carriages in Dumpcester.
FORTHCOMING WORKS BY DR. BOLI.
Dr. Boli’s History of the Doorknob. A much-neglected subject, handled in Dr. Boli’s usual thorough manner. Other historians have dealt with the history of doorknobs in general, but only Dr. Boli has had the patience and industry to relate the complete history of the particular doorknob that opens the door to Dr. Boli’s library. A surprisingly lively story, full of unexpected twists and turns. Quarto, 582 pp.
Dr. Boli’s Complete Manual of Dish-Washing. Compiled from instructions Dr. Boli originally developed for his own kitchen staff, this book is an absolute necessity for every thoughtful and patriotic citizen who is dissatisfied with the way dishes are washed in this country. Beginning with a number of geometric proofs and progressing to a comprehensive examination of the application of Newtonian infinitesimal calculus to the circular motions and angular velocity of the common dishrag, Dr. Boli’s manual explains everything an ordinary dishwasher needs to know about his art. Highly recommended for anyone in the trade, and certain to be a much-appreciated gift from householders to their cooks and scullery-maids.
From Dr. Boli’s Encyclopedia of Misinformation.
Maya. It was once believed that the Maya were a nation of peaceful astronomers, but the decipherment of Maya historical texts has led to a reassessment of their character. It is now known that the Maya were indeed peaceful astronomers, but remarkably violent soldiers.
DOCTRINES OF THE ANCIENT PHILOSOPHERS.
No. 1.—Oenophilus.
OENOPHILUS WAS A student in the Academy, but was expelled for never turning in his homework. None of his works have survived, but we may form a sound opinion of his doctrines from the following notices in other ancient writers, which represent the only fragments left of the thought of this important Attic philosopher.
Oenophilus, on the other hand, declared that there were but two elements, which he termed “Grape” and “Yeast,” from which everything worthwhile in the world was constructed.
On seeing a man eating a grape, “Are you not ashamed,” he said, “thus to abort the wine in utero?”
On seeing a man eating an apple, “Are you not ashamed,” he said, “thus to put the pot before the kettle?” And finding that he had drained his entire wine-pitcher, so that there was no wine left, he wept himself to sleep.
The disciples of Oenophilus would often listen to his discourses throughout the night, but it was said that they would never remember his words in the morning.
When asked whether it was wise to drink all night, “Would you rather,” replied Oenophilus, “I drank all day?” And when his hearers pointed out that he did drink all day, he threw rocks at them.
Socrates believed that he was wise because he knew that he knew nothing, but Oenophilus believed that he was wise because he knew that he remembered nothing.
When Aristippus accused Oenophilus of corrupting the youth of Athens, and of leading them astray through a philosophy that put pleasure before duty, “I may have corrupted the youth of Athens,” he replied, “but you have a big nose.”
Oenophilus taught his disciples always to worship the gods in the proper manner: “for,” said he, “where there are sacrifices, there is food; and where there is food, there is wine; and where there is wine, there am I.”
On seeing Aristotle in the agora, “There,” quoth Oenophilus, “you see a galley without a cheese.” And shortly after speaking thus, he died.
FORTHCOMING WORKS BY DR. BOLI.
Dr. Boli’s Lives of the Eminent Biographers, 2nd Edition. In this revised edition of what has already become the standard work on the subject, Dr. Boli has rectified what some readers considered an unfortunate omission in the first edition by adding a chapter on himself. Quarto, 638 pp.
How to Do Anything Worth Doing. A complete household reference in which Dr. Boli explains how to bake potatoes, polish brass, organize your closet, create striking kirigami, make potholders, discover new continents, engrave the likenesses of saints on plastic laminate, turn lead into gold, compute your income tax without a calculator, run a mile in four minutes or less, build a simple hovercraft, navigate the Northwest Passage, arrange flowers for weddings & funerals, talk like a pirate, insulate a three-bedroom house, grow mushrooms in your basement, paint in a Victorian academic style, make Roquefort cheese from things you probably have lying around the house, record sound, take out the trash, weave rugs in the Tabriz style, walk like a duck, find the square root of 4, eat with chopsticks, climb the Cathedral of Learning, brush out a keeshond, carve wooden replicas of famous prothonotaries, and swim to Greece. 8vo, 352 pp.