The Ballad of Bronchitis Sucks

I’ve been reading “The Ballad of Reading Gaol.” I haven’t picked it up in years, though I remembered liking it. My current state of mind (bitchy, feverish, and perpetually tired) seems to be pretty much perfect for appreciating the poem. It’s some parts pure madness, all sorts of raw feeling, strangely radical social sentiment, religious imagery of the most controversial kind (y’know, Christlike), dark conclusions, horror ripped straight from the mind of a tortured soul… And all from Oscar Wilde. Oscar freaking Wilde. It’s the only one of his works I can say I care about. I like, say, The Importance of Being Ernest alright, in a passing kind of way. Those works are basically sitcoms, if clever ones. I kind of enjoyed The Picture of Dorian Gray. Read it halfway through high school, which is about the right time to appreciate that odd little work. But nothing else of his sticks the way T.B.O.R.G. does. I highly recommend taking a moment for reading it, if you have one. I only got into it again because my current pesky main character loves it. I was debating trying to work it into the story as a motif. There might be too much going on there, though. There are two big threads already, and I don’t know if I want to even attempt working that mess of poetry into the whole. Maybe just a quick allusion.

Here’s my favorite bit.

“They glided past, they glided fast,
Like travelers through a mist:
They mocked the moon in a rigadoon
Of delicate turn and twist,
And with formal pace and loathsome grace
The phantoms kept their tryst.

With mop and mow, we saw them go,
Slim shadows hand in hand:
About, about, in ghostly rout
They trod a saraband:
And the damned grotesques made arabesques,
Like the wind upon the sand!

With the pirouettes of marionettes,
They tripped on pointed tread:
But with flutes of Fear they filled the ear,
As their grisly masque they led,
And loud they sang, and loud they sang,
For they sang to wake the dead.”

Food for thought, I guess. And perhaps a good illustration of why I might not to try to write anything seriously today, but if I go much longer in this haze of pointless loafing, I will lose my mind. I was planning on going to the renfaire this weekend and doing something, maybe Haven Halloween, in a birthday sort of way next week. There has been entirely too much hacking and dying. So I will be following advice and seeing a doctor soon, I hope.

The good news is that I found my snuggie, so that helps.

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~ by badandfierce on October 19, 2010.

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