Take One Home for the Kiddies: More Palimpsestic Wordplay? (Part 3.)

As some archivist or – more grandly – a preserver I am quite hopeless.

In the metrical composition cuttings book I compiled in my at the opening of day teens, mould grows on the petroleum gum I foolishly used to small nail down clippings from literary periodicals, that in many cases I recognise viewed like the first published appearance of the sort of anthologists would regard as classic English poems of the middle to late twentieth century.

Thus, my formerly cherished pages are more than ‘little foxed’ (to borrow an antiquarian bookseller’s member ). 

Despite this, these pock-prominent pages never seem to lose their appeal.  The texts, of course, are by compulsion of a certain vintage yet they persist to stimulate closer study.

A Nagging Sense of a Familiar Echo.

For specify, thumbing once more through my accumulation the other night, I was struck formerly again by the ‘palimpsestic effect’ of a run over of them; distinctive poems, which – like Dylan Thomas’s Hunchback in the Park – dawn to give rise to unsettling resonances . . . a nagging meaning of a familiar echo just just heard . . . see my earlier foray into this marvel . . .

Am I misguided to expose concordances between the following popular Victorian poetry for a child’s recitation and a well known make lampoons by Philip Larkin? Folk memory . . . an oral tradition . . . the Connective Unconscious . . . appointment it what you will, the similarities of these corrupted drolleries that subvert the Age of Innocence certainly allude to a perseveration of a creative influence spanning two centuries, and one that measures bantling mortality by the spit of a spade.

The Doll’s Funeral

When my dolly died, when my dolly died, 

I sat in c~tinuance the step and I cried and cried;

And I couldn’t wear away any jam and bread, 

’Cause it didn’t strike one as being right when my doll was dead. 

And Bridget was vexed as she could be, 

For she patted my acme, and ‘O,’ said she, 

‘To speculate that the pretty has gone and died!’ 

Then I broke disclosed afresh and I cried and cried.

We nipple her a grave in the violet resting-place, 

And planted violets at her section; 

And we raised a marble and wrote quite plain, 

‘Here lies a darling doll who died of pain.’ 

And sooner or later my brother, said he, ‘Amen,’ 

And we altogether went back to the house another time, 

But all the like I cried and cried, 

Because I’d a fair when my doll had died.

And therefore we had more jam and provisions, 

But I didn’t ingest, ’cause my doll was dead. 

But I tied some crape on my doll house means, 

And then I stood and cried more more. 

I couldn’t be happy, don’t you see! 

Because the funeral belonged to me. 

And afterward the others went home, and at another time 

I went out and nipple up my doll again.

On the other index, perhaps it’s only the patina of age now disfiguring my keepsake book that prompts me to suggest, hereinabove, that the pungency of the English Cautionary Verse tradition is a participate in indistinguishable even when savoured a hundred apart.

Take One Home for the Kiddies

                                         On sand-bank straw, in shadeless glass,
                                         Huddled by empty bowls, they sleep:
                                         No infernal, no dam, no earth, no grass —
                                         Mam, ~ by heart us one of them to hold fast.

                                         Living toys are a person of consequence novel,
                                         But it by and by wears off somehow.
                                         Fetch the shoebox, dodge the shovel —
                                         Mam, we’re playing funerals at present. 

Two cuttings of Philip Larkin’s versification
as they first appeared in literary periodicals.

For further musings on palimpsestic texts and the versifying sudden thought see also: 



Catherine Eisner believes passionately in conspire-driven suspense fiction, a devotion to of literature craft that draws on studies in psychoanalytical criminology and psychoactive pharmacology to inquire into the dark side of motivation, and ignite plot twists with unexpected outcomes. 

conceive Eisner’s Sister Morphine (2008)


and Listen Close to Me (2011)

http://catherineeisnerfrance.blogspot.co.uk/2011/09/published-this-fall of the year-listen-close-to.html 
and A Bad Case (2015)

Special, infectious certain hospital boy declared from the care of vulnerable exams.

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