Epigram Sam

'Poetry For Dummies' (bless it) defines an epigram as: "a very unified, sharply pointed poem, often quite short".

Apart from my taking exception to the extraneous 'very' and 'sharply' (something is either unified or it's not, pointed or it's not) plus the fact that 'pointed' doesn't really get at an epigram's inherent wit or humour, the definition is spot on! That said, there is often confusion as to what is an epigram as opposed to an epigraph or an epitaph or even a punchy joke (aka the smart-arse one-liner). Simply - an epitaph is an inscription on a grave or headstone, an epigraph is a short quote as a header to a longer work (poem, chapter, novel) and an epigram may double as a punchy joke (if the form is right) but not all punchy jokes are epigrams.

Examples may help. My favourite epitaph is the one Spike Milligan insisted should appear on his grave stone: "I told you I was ill." Best epigraph award goes to "Most people ignore most poetry because most poetry ignores most people" from the frontispiece of Adrian Mitchell's 1964 'Poems'. And my favourite punchy joke, that is like an epigram but not, comes from Ken Dodd: "In Paris, the tables and chairs are out on the streets. In Liverpool we call that eviction."

Many talented and witty literary giants have written epigrams. The form started out as a  brief poetic inscription about the dear departed on graves in Ancient Greece (not to be confused with an epitaph, LOL) and only came to acquire its humorous/satirical intent in the days of the Roman Empire.

Latterly, Ogden Nash, Dorothy Parker and Oscar Wilde in particular have proved quite prodigious in their output of epigrams, but in my opinion, the daddy of them all was Mark Twain (real name Samuel Langhorne Clemens) - hence my epithet for him - Epigram Sam (with an obvious nod to Marc Bolan for those of you familiar with T.Rex).

Epigram Sam

Twain is responsible for hundreds of pithy sayings, some more unified, pointed and shorter than others. I'll make it easy on myself this week by quoting a few for your interest and amusement.What is striking about many of them is their continuing currency, even though they are over a century old. What does that say about the ways of the world? Here goes:

"I don't like to commit myself about heaven and hell; I have friends in both places."

"The political and commercial morals of the United States are not merely food for laughter, they are an entire banquet."

"Politicians and diapers must be changed often, and for the same reason."

"Often it does seem a pity that Noah and his party did not miss the boat."

"It is better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to open it and remove all doubt."

"Where prejudice exists it always discolours our thoughts."

"You can't depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus."

"Of all the animals, man is the only one that is cruel. He is the only one that inflicts pain for the pleasure of doing it."

"The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them."

"Always do right. That will gratify some of the people and astonish the rest."

I thought that knocking out a short poem in epigram form would be a doddle. It wasn't...

Marianismo
Between the pornography of type
And the typography of porn
The man made cult
Of the misandrist was born.

Which leads on to Dorothy Parker, so renowned for her quick wit that she was often challenged to compose an epigram on the spot, or at least to parody an existing one, using a word supplied by her audience as a prompt. My favourite was delivered (allegedly) on the occasion that someone challenged her powers with the word 'horticulture'. Taking barely a pause to think, she bounced back with the line "You can drag a whore to culture but you can't make her think".

I'll leave you with a parody (sadly not an epigram) that I fashioned out of one of Oscar Wilde's most famed quips:

"I have nothing to declare but my gnus" - Oscar Wildebeest

Thank you and goodnight. I hope you enjoy(ed) your extra hour in bed, S ;-)

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Writing and Money

 

 By Ashley Lister

 "If you have any young friends who aspire to become writers, the second greatest favour you can do them is to present them with copies of The Elements of Style. The first greatest, of course, is to shoot them now, while they’re happy.”

Dorothy Parker (attrib)

I echo the sentiments that have been shared this week. It’s Saturday and each day so far this week on the Dead Good Blog there’s been sage and erudite advice from the team of regular writers here: all sharing their insights into the mechanics of our vocation. Now it’s my turn and, as the sub-topic doesn’t seem to have been covered so far, I may as well touch on the subject of writing and money.

I could repeat Moliere’s thoughts here: “Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, and then for a few close friends, and then for money.” Or I could reiterate Johnson: “No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money.” I could even cite Twain who advised: “Write without pay until somebody offers to pay you. If nobody offers within three years, sawing wood is what you were intended for.”

But these are cynical mindsets, driven by a capitalist ideal where financial success equates to achievement and accomplishment. And, as a writer, I’m aware there is little money fairly distributed to writers in the publishing world.

As an example, consider the fact that Edgar Allan Poe received the grand total of $24 in his lifetime for ‘The Raven’, and this was after selling it twice. Compare this paltry amount with the Fifty Shades trilogy, which was making its author $1,000,000 dollars a week at one point after its release. If we compare these two financially, E L James’s fiction is vastly superior to ‘The Raven’.

However, I don’t think there would be many critics who would agree that judgement reflects on the comparative quality of the two works.

If the measure of success in writing was solely determined by financial reward, this would mean the ‘best’ writers of our generation are Stephanie Meyer, Jeffrey Archer and Dan Brown.

That’s a heady concept to digest. If, for one instant, I thought that was true, I’d cite it as compelling evidence that capitalism is a flawed system and should be abandoned immediately ad I'd advocate rioting the in the streets and unstoppable anarchy.

But what would I know? I’m a writer so I know nothing about the subject of money. A writer talking about money is like the pope talking about contraception. An outsider can look at either of them and ask: What the f**k would he know about that subject?

So, to develop Twain’s maxim, I’d say: “Write without pay until somebody offers to pay you. If nobody offers within three years, carry on for as long as the vocation still entertains you.”  Or, at least, until one of Dorothy’ Parker’s well-meaning friends puts you out of your misery and shoots you whilst you’re happy.  

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