Assigned reading (1 par [] plus 135 notes) [secondary] [McH]
The rule of three is a universal trope in all media, especially fairy tales.
The first plan was that she'd increase her demand by one cup each time, then add a demand for peace, then ask a riddle (Why am I like...?). The 40yrs walk was a 100yrs war.
"rosy... paly... blank" rosé, pale rosé, blanc wines?
Tristopher and Hillary (sad and happy) get turned insideout to make Toughertrees and Larryhill (trees and hill are not quite Shem/Shaun // stem/stone). This alludes to Tristan disguising himself as Tantris.
Jonathan Swift (b1667 Dublin, Gulliver's Travels 1726) [200 hits incl homerigh, sulliver suddles, baretholobruised, lilipath, nail of a top, broadginger] and Laurence Sterne (b1713 Tipperary, Tristram Shandy 1759) [27 hits incl shandy, laurency] form a peculiar minor FW duo [11 hits]. To the extent JAJ saw them as Shem and Shaun, Swift was probably the more controversial Shem, but his affection for the Esthers makes him more often HCE.
FDV: "and his little jiminy, Hilary and his dummy were on the watercloth, kissing & spitting. And the prankwench said to the wicked. I want 2 cupsa porterpeace. But the wicked handworded. Shut. Then the prankwench put down Tristopher & picked up Hilary and she ran, ran, ran. And Sir Howther bleethered atter her: Come back with my Earing. But she swareadid to him: Am liking it. Then the prankwench went for a hundred years war and she punched holes in him & taught him his tears & then she went for another hundred years walk & brought back to Sir Howther. Sir Howther had his hand up to his pantrybox and his little jiminy Tristopher & the dummy were belord on the tarssheet, kissing & spitting. And the prankswench said to the gate: Why am I like 3 cupss porterpease. And Sir Howther came out of the gate as far as he could. And this was the first peace of porter. The prankwench was to get the dummy & the jiminies was to keep their peace & the Howther was to get the wind up."
Sir Howther aka "the wicked"?!?
[Larryhill?] "His mother descended from great Grana Uaile"
[♬ the valleys lay twinkling] poem
[♬ the campbells acoming]
the seven-items-of-clothing motif occurs some 20 times
mysteries: histher, paly, bleethered, larksical, abromette, hurricane hips
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and the dummy in their first infancy
ReplyDeletewere below on the tearsheet,
wringing and coughing, like brodar and histher.
And the prankquean nipped a paly one and lit up again
and redcocks flew flackering from the hillcombs.
And she made her witter before the wicked, saying:
Mark the Twy, why do I am alook alike two poss of porterpease?
And: Shut! says the wicked, handwording her madesty.
So her madesty a'forethought set down a jiminy and took up a jiminy
and all the lilipath ways to Woeman's Land she rain, rain, rain.
And Jarl van Hoother bleethered atter her with a loud finegale:
Stop domb stop come back with my earring stop.
But the prankquean swaradid: Am liking it.
And there was a wild old grannewwail
that altarsame laurency night of stars hootings somewhere in Erio.
And the prankquean went for her forty years' walk in Turnlemeem
and she punched the curses of cromcruwell
with the nail of a top into the jiminy
and she had her four larksical monitrix to tauch him his tears
and she provorted him to the onecertain allsecure
and he became a tristian.
So then she started raining, raining,
and in a pair of changers, be dom ter,
she was back again at Jarl van Hoother's
and the Larryhill with her under her abromette.
And why would she halt at all
if not by the ward of his mansionhome
of another nice lace for the third charm?
And Jarl van Hoother had his hurricane hips up to his pantrybox,
ruminating in his holdfour stomachs (Dare! O dare!),
and the jiminy Toughertrees and the dummy
were belove on the watercloth,
kissing and spitting, and roguing and poghuing,
like knavepaltry and naivebride
and in their second infancy.
And the prankquean picked a blank and lit out
and the valleys lay twinkling.
And she made her wittest in front of the arkway of trihump, asking:
Mark the Tris, why do I am alook alike three poss of porterpease?
But that was how the skirtmisshes endupped.
For, like the campbells acoming with a forklance of lightning,
Jarl van Hoother Boanerges himself, the old terror of the dames,
came hip hop handihap out
through the pikeopened arkway of his three shuttoned castles
in his broadginger hat
and his civic chollar
and his allabuff hemmed
and his bullbraggin soxangloves
and his ladbroke breeks
and his cattegut bandolair
and his furframed panuncular cumbottes