Showing posts with label Doctor Samuel Johnson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Doctor Samuel Johnson. Show all posts

Saturday, December 28, 2013

CHURL








chu΄rlish. (1) Rude; brutal; harsh; austere; sour; merciless; unkind; uncivil.

        A lion in love with a lass, desired her father’s consent.

        The answer was churlish enough, He’d never marry his daughter to a brute.  L’Estrange’s Fables.

                     (2)  Selfish; avaritious.

        This sullen churlish thief,

                      Had all his mind plac’d upon Mully’s beef.  King’s Mully of Mountown.






Note:  The “churlish” definition above is the one written by Doctor Samuel Johnson in his 1755 Dictionary of the English Language.  I happened upon it one day and inspired, followed the word’s history and etymology as far and deep as a longish internet work-break would allow me. It’s a fascinating journey and further proof of the “universe in a grain of sand” theory.  Like other fine words, which I need not mention, “churlish” and “churl” have fallen into disuse, but not for reasons of political correctness.  Perhaps they just seem too acutely unkind.  A few years ago, an old friend reminded me that once, at college, in the student snack-bar, I called a person who is now the New York Times Chief Drama Critic a churl, but I have no memory of this at all – the event or the person (to whom I would like to apologize if I did and possibly make it up to him with an invitation to drinks, dinner, and two seats on the aisle for something good, which he would need to provide, Broadway tickets being so ruinously expensive).

Amazing to find that Canada actually produced a major-label  recorded classic-era psychedelic rock band called The Churls.  Crystal Palace (below) isn’t bad – much better than Princess Mary Margaret, which is a little Spinal Tap in their early Status Quo period for me. The costuming is a remarkable reminder that there’s no business like show business.







Saturday, August 24, 2013

MOUSE (FROM THE DICTIONARY)






mouse.  The smallest of all beasts; a little animal haunting houses and cornfields, destroyed by cats.
                
The eagle England being in prey,
To her unguarded nest the weazel Scot
Comes sneaking, and so sucks her princely      eggs;
Playing the mouse in the absence of the cat.   

                --  Shakespeare.






[1] Albrecht Dürer, Adam and Eve (detail), 1504, engraving.

[2] Ganesh sits affectionately with his vahana, Mushika, the giant mouse (carved and painted ivory plaque, later 1900's).

[3]  Once, a long time ago, mice terrified me, but I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.  I learned that they were lovely creatures and what came to terrify me was the regular, horrifying occurrence of one of my cats, doing what comes naturally to them: pouncing, eviscerating, etc., one of these dear creatures and leaving the remains for me (to find first thing in the morning) as a sort of heavily-broken-in-prize-toy.  I can hardly blame Rose and Pansy, both American short-hairs, for pursuing what has been their family trade since long before the Pilgrims brought them to America on the Mayflower as onboard exterminators.  But they really didn’t need to train Claude, the pansy-faced Persian, in the art/craft.  I suppose they were simply making him feel one of the family.  Because we live in a country house, we sometimes have mice.  We try to find them before the cats do and protect them by removing them from harm’s way.  The fact that Claude doesn’t see as well as he used to doesn’t slow him down at all.  He may look cherubic, and he’s as soft and cuddly as can be, but he’s a mighty male and using his other senses, he participates in world events with a fierce understanding of cause and effect, truth and consequences. 

[4]  “Mouse” definition from Johnson’s Dictionary, A Modern Selection by E.L. McAdam, Jr. & George Milne, New York, Pantheon Books, 1963.