Raíces de un género

-- Año: 1846
-- Toda clase de imaginación gráfica.

A few funny limericks in this now dated book from the mid 19th century.
Edward Lear made the limerick his own and went on to write more books of "nonsense" after this one. I believe he wrote 212 limericks in total.

“A Book of Nonsense ” by Edward Lear
One of the earliest books I was given as a child. It was a school award.
Rather harsh towards certain characters.
“There was a Young Lady of Troy, Whom several large flies did annoy; Some she killed”
“There was an Old Man of Peru, Who watched his wife making a stew; But once by mistake, In a stove she did bake, That unfortunate Man of Peru.”

Lovely poems and charming illustrations.

Very tedious and boring. I can give two stars for surrealism and for its brand of limericks, but this work is largely devoid of humour and creativity, and isn't fit for my taste.

Published by some outfit called Feather Trail Press, with no introduction or notes about the edition, not even a publishing city noted, left me with little confidence that this edition of Mr. Lear's book is at all representative of his original work--I simply don't know. What I do know is that the centre alignment of the poems and the sans-serif font made the whole thing feel rather amateurish.

A TUTOR WHO TOOTED THE FLUTE
TRIED TO TUTOR TWO TOOTERS TO TOOT.
SAID THE TWO TO THE TUTOR:
“IS IT HARDER TO TOOT OR
TO TUTOR TWO TOOTERS TO TOOT?”

Misery loves drollery!

So seems to have said the Victorian gent Edward Lear, who was plagued by major illnesses all of his life...

Grand mal epilepsy, asthma, near-blindness, and severe depression were his poor lot in life (though it didn't stop him from pursuing a respectable career in drafting and illustration).

And, incredibly, he was the Father of the Limerick (but who knows if he penned that childhood limerick we all love, Two TOOTERS?)..

But definitely not the risqué type. For Edward lived in a polite era, and wrote ne’er a naughty word.

His limericks are sheer nonsense - all as fluffy as freshly-made meringue - in contrast to the hardened, baked crust that sealed off his days with gloom.

If he had seen the crude limericks of twenty first-century schoolkids he would have rued the day he made this artform a polite household word. No, folks - his limericks are not based on groping double entendres.

They’re brought on by a profound appreciation of life’s tragedies, and these are his harmless escape from them!

We’ve said that Lear had more than his share of things to complain about.

Well, that suffering turned his view of life around... in a miraculous “sea-change/ into something rich and strange” as the Bard’s oft-quoted song sings.

For he had discovered the Absurd.

People afflicted with the Absurd express it in widely varying ways...

Camus embraced the Life Force completely and defiantly, as long as he had it.

Sartre turned to dark philosophy and grim petulance.

Mallarme went them one better in reaction, and became the unlikely Resident Sylph of the higher Abstract Realms of great poetry.

But Lear, like me, saw the wisdom of the ancient, tried and true sage wisdom: “what can ya do about it? Ya gotta LAUGH!” Haha.

And laugh he did.

Sure, like Pessoa, he knew disquiet. For that’s endemic to the Absurd.

But did he cry? Sure, buckets!

Did he complain? Plenty, but no one’s ever listening.

But he knew when the Law barks at you, as it’s been known to do, ‘Better Keep in Line!’ he’d better play in tune - on the Lighter Side!

Now THAT’s socially acceptable.

And a boon to the similarly afflicted!

But he even did the Law one better on that score, for, after all, like Ionesco and Pirandello he saw the Law as Absurdly Hilarious, and he relaxed his audience - by being old-fashioned and corny.

Now here’s a harmless and talented guy, they all said...

Because these rhymes are all such trite nonsense, I've given them 3 stars. I expected BELLY laughs, and only managed strained polite smiles for the most part, such as Edward would have received from his prim lady friends.

But you can put that down to my paltry pension budget and my grimmer senior’s outlook. And often, in finding a deal I’m quickly disappointed.

This book is a budget buy of a bygone year, but if you’re parsimonious like I am, you try to give each mistake another chance, and take it down from the shelf again.

And Lear is Lear, and this book takes me right back to that day in our middle school library when I opened these limericks as something to memorize and entertain my chums with.

I had bought a supermarket mini-paperback of rhymes in the summer of ‘62 and never for a moment expected it to be ribald and sassy... yikes!

So that fall, back in school, I whiled away one library period with my memorizing Lear. What a kid I was.

In the spring I even memorized Macauley’s rhyme about Horatio at the Bridge. You don’t see THAT in schoolbooks in these with-it days!

And Lear, at least in Grade 8, was fun too. It was a more widely-inclusive selection of rhymes than this one...

But given the sheer weight of care and darkness this man must have lived under, it's a wonder he could have any fun at all!

And WE are of course the clear winners in receiving the gift of that drollery from him.

Especially the KIDS at heart among us!

According to the introduction from an anthology of Limericks the subject matter of these poems is mostly risque. The clean limerick was developed as a parlor game. Those are the kinds of rhymes found in this collection.

Oh, that Eddie. You know he drove his people crazy with all of his limericks. . . .

I have to read his stuff every few years to remind myself that one really can overdo. My first memorized poem was the Owl and the Pussycat.

5 stars (and one runcible spoon. . .which is now known as a spork).

There was an Old Man of Moldavia,
Who had the most curious behavior;
For while he was able, he slept on a table,
That funny Old Man of Moldavia.

:)
page 12

Quite the book ! Very intrigued by all the accomplishments Edward Lear made in his life !

A bit hit and miss.