A THOUGHT FOR OUR TIMES...

On the eve of the first ballot to elect the third leader of the Conservative Party (and, by default, Prime Minister) in just over three months, I offer you a remarkable and decidedly uncomfortable poem by Rudyard Kipling.

 

Published in the London newspaper, Sunday Pictorial, 103 years ago – almost to the very day – on October 26th, 1919, it contained the following startling, but strangely apposite, lines:

 

"...the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire..."

 

Maybe we should remember that prediction as the coming week unfolds...

 

***

 

Kipling titled his poem ‘The Gods of the Copybook Headings’, referencing a the type of moral and improving catch-phrases – old saws, proverbs and quotations from The Bible (such as the ones in the lines above) and Shakespeare – that were often printed across the top of pages in British schoolchildren’s copybooks in the 19th century, and which students were required to copy-out repeatedly in order to improve their handwriting and to instill the received 'wisdom' of those maxims.

 

Here, in full, is Kipling’s bitter, invective-laden warning…

 

The Gods of the Copybook Headings

 

As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,

I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market-Place.

Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,

And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

 

We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn

That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:

But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,

So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.

 

We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,

Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place,

But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come

That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.

 

With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch.

They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch.

They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings.

So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.

 

When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.

They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.

But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,

And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."

 

On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life

(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)

Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,

And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."

 

In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,

By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;

But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,

And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."

 

Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew,

And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true

That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four—

And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.

 

As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man—

There are only four things certain since Social Progress began:—

That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,

And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;

 

And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins

When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,

As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,

The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

***

Readers interested in the origin of Kipling’s sources for the ‘copybook headings’ (sometimes here – as elsewhere – popularly misquoted) and an analysis and appreciation of the poem, should visit this informative page on the website of The Kipling Society.

MORE FROM THE JUNGLE

A couple more mementos (from way back in 1967) of my youthful passion for Walt Disney's last personally produced animated feature, The Jungle Book: these are the original Pan paperback movie-tie-in editions ('By special arrangement with MACMILLAN & CO. LTD.') of Rudyard Kipling's original two-volume story collections about Mowgli and other animals...

 

I already owned the original books (having first met Kipling through that wondrous collection of tales, The Just So Stories), so I knew that the Disney movie I was about to go to the cinema to see was not, as you might say, an entirely faithful filmic translation of the books! As a result I didn't really need the back-cover disclaimer: "Some by Kipling, some by Disney – the creatures that people the wonderful new Walt Disney dull-length cartoon"!

Of course I fell in love with the film and (despite my awareness of its being only loosely 'Kipled', as it were) I had soon committed the songs to memory and played and re-played the Disneyland Storyteller LP of The Jungle Book to my parents' total distraction!
 
Many years later, in 2014, David and I got together in London with song-writer Richard M. Sherman and his wife, Elizabeth, and I asked Dick – who was responsible, with his brother, Robert, for the songs not just in The Jungle Book but in Mary Poppins, Disney's 'Winnie the Pooh' films and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang among many, many others – to inscribe these much-treasured books.

Taking out his pen, Dick innocently asked: "Shall I put 'To Brian and David'?" and was, I would say, a tad taken aback when I (almost) screamed:

"NO!! -- Just BRIAN!" 
 

Well, I mean, having looked after those books for 47 years, I really wasn't about to share a dedication – even with my loving partner!

Thanks, Dick –– and sorry, David!

ONE OF CHILDHOOD'S BARE NECESSITIES

I've just reclaimed a fragment of my youthful days and, in particular, my obsession with Walt Disney –– which, as you may know, I have never lost!

The release of The Jungle Book in 1967 was of enormous significance and emotional importance to myself and other young Disney fans who had seriously feared that, with Walt's death the preceding December, there would never be another new Disney animated movie.

Such was my delight that – despite the paucity of my pocket-money – I grabbed as much Jungle Book merchandise as I could possibly afford, including this model-making book! Of course, back then, it wasn't enough to own this publication, I simply had to make up the model which also played to another of my obsessions – toy theatres.

Little did I think that putting together this Disney tableau was effectively destroying its future collectible value!

Oh, the impetuosity of youth!

Well, obviously I won't making the same mistake with this near-mint copy, found on ebay from a seller who retrieved it from the darkest recesses of a family attic...

 

Hang on mo...

DAVID!

What are you DOING??

No! No! 

NOOOOOOO!!!!

PUT DOWN THOSE SCISSORS......... 

A POEM FOR TODAY

It's United Nation's World Poetry Day, so here is one of my favourite poems written by that under-rated rhymester, Rudyard Kipling.

Published in 1919, 'The Gods of the Copybook Headings' foresaw the decline of the British Empire but – surprisingly (or perhaps not!) –the irritation and anger infusing Kipling's verse still has extraordinary resonance, ninety-three years on.

'The Copybook Headings' of the title were moral and improving maxims printed at the top of the pages of British students' school exercise books, called 'copybooks' and which the children had to copy out by hand.

The Gods of the Copybook Headings

AS I PASS through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.

We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place,
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.

With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.

When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."

On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."

In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."

Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.

As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began.
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;

And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

- Rudyard Kipling

ALPHABOOKS

I just recover from answering one meme (the one asking me to list my frequently watched movies) when, knock me down with a feather, along comes another one: this time courtesy of my friend SCB at Where there are Meadowlarks...

Here are THE RULES (for there must always be RULES) as laid down by SCB:

1. Go through the alphabet, and for each letter, think of a book you've read that starts with that letter (A, An, and The do not count).

2. You must write down the FIRST book you think of for any given letter. This may make for some odd choices, but them's the breaks.

3. You must have actually READ the book. (I thought of lots that started with some letters, but I hadn't read them.)

4. If you think of a more impressive-sounding book for a particular letter, but you've already written your first thought down, you CANNOT change to the more impressive-sounding book. As an example, you have to leave "Fifty Famous Fairy Tales" (the Whitman Publishing pink and white one) on the list, even if you come up with fifty more impressive books afterwards.

5. If you can think of a book for X, you win... my lasting admiration (I can't afford real prizes!)

6. You can then tag as many people as you like. The more the merrier.

So, here's the list I drew up...

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll

Brave New World – Aldous Huxley

A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens

Doctor Dolittle – Hugh Lofting

The Exploits of Moominpappa – Tove Jansson

Fahrenheit 451 – Ray Bradbury

Gormenghast – Mervyn Peake

The Hobbit – J R R Tolkien

It's Too Late Now – A A Milne
(The autobiography of Pooh's creator)

Just So Stories – Rudyard Kipling

A Kid for Two Farthings – Wolf Mankowitz

The Lord of the Rings – J R R Tolkien

Mary Poppins – P L Travers

Noddy in Toyland – Enid Blyton
(Nostromo by Joseph Conrad would have sounded better, but there it is!)

The Once and Future King – T H White

Peter and Wendy – J M Barrie

Quentin Durwood – Sir Walter Scott

Ring of Bright Water – Gavin Maxwell

Something Wicked This Way Comes – Ray Bradbury

Treasure Island – Robert Louis Stevenson

Utopia - Thomas More

The Voyage of the 'Dawn Treader' – C S Lewis

The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Graham

EXterminator! – William S Burroughs (Oh, well, it was worth a try!)

Yertle the Turtle and Other Stories – Dr Seuss

Zen in the Art of Writing – Ray Bradbury

I suppose it's not too surprising that there are two titles by Tolkien and three by Bradbury – plus, of course, Carroll, Milne and Peake – but the preponderance of children's books suggests that I have already entered my second childhood which is, I guess, pretty accurate!

I hesitate to tag anyone, but (if they'd like to do it and have the time) then I'll tag Gill, Sheila, Sharon, Suzanne and anyone else who fancies having a go...

KALYMNIAN KATS

Here are just a couple of the many cat photos I seem to take ever year. Emporios is perhaps unique among Greek villages (and certainly villages on Kalymnos) in not being overrun by felines, so these 2009 cat-shots were photographed elsewhere on the island.

The first, a beggar at a waterside taverna, had a seriously ravaged tail and this cultivated expression of pathos that probably keeps him supplied with scraps from sentimental tourists...

This cat, O Best Beloved...

...reminds me of 'The Cat That Walked by Himself' from Rudyard Kipling's Just So Stories...

Photo images: Brian Sibley © 2009 and uploaded via my flickr Photostream.