I’ve been distracted by life, dear ones, and while nothing short of young men in dishabille and dire straits can interfere with my reading, I am easily persuaded to neglect anything even slightly resembling work, and so have neglected my book re-cappings and appreciations. I promise to get back to these very soon(unless, you know, something else comes along).
But soon is not today, because tomorrow is my dear Mom’s carotid artery operation and we are heavy into preparations – there are bags to be packed and worries to be assuaged and panics to be dodged and possibilities to be denied. It’s a full-time job and too much for one simple fellow like me. Luckily, all who remain of what we once called the Smith-Sibling-Six are in town, which those of you within nuclear-fallout distance no doubt already knew, having been knocked off-balance by the energy-sucking-abyss created by our passive-aggressive judgments of one another.
But onward, Charles. I saw this on Twitter today:
— and I was taken back to my delight at discovering as a teenager the Collected Dorothy Parker which included her book reviews as Constant Reader. One of my very favorites was her ravaging of Mr. Milne’s Pooh. You really should read the whole thing and I’d type it all out for you, darlings, but I’ve Son Duties to which I must attend before my black-sheep status is further cemented, so, just this – the end, where Mrs. Parker allows Mr. Milne’s prose to do itself in (mostly):
” ‘ Well, you’ll see, Piglet, when you listen. Because this is how it begins. The more it snows, tiddely-pom–‘
” ‘Tiddely what?’ said Piglet.” (He took, as you might say, the very words out of your correspondent’s mouth.)
” ‘Pom,’ said Pooh. ‘I put that in to make it more hummy.’ ”
And it is that word “hummy,” my darlings, that marks the first place in The House at Pooh Corner at which Tonstant Weader Fwowed up.
Ha! It doesn’t get much better than that. Love and Light, dear ones.