If-and the thing is wildly
possible-the charge of writing
nonsense were ever brought against
the author of this brief but
instructive poem, it would be
based , I feel convinced, on
the line (in Fit the Second)
"Then
the bowsprit got mixed with
the rudder sometimes."
In view of this painful possibility,
I will not (as I might) appeal
indignantly to my other writings
as a proof that I am incapable
of such a deed: I will not (as
I might) point to the strong
moral purpose of this poem itself,
to the arithmetical principles
so cautiously inculcated in it,
or to its noble teachings in
Natural History--I will take
the more prosaic course of simply
explaining how it happened.
The Bellman,
who was almost morbidly sensitive
about appearances,
used to have the bowsprit unshipped
once or twice a week to be revarnished,
and it more than once happened,
when the time came for replacing
it, that no one on board could
remember which end of the ship
it belonged to. They knew it
was not of the slightest use
to appeal to the Bellman about
it-- he would only refer to his
Naval Code, and read out in pathetic
tones Admiralty Instructions
which none of them had ever been
able to understand-- so it generally
ended in its being fastened on,
anyhow, across the rudder. The
helmsman used to stand by with
tears in his eyes; he knew it
was all wrong, but alas! Rule
42 of the Code, "No one shall
speak to the Man at the Helm," had
been completed by the Bellman
himself with the words "and the
Man at the Helm shall speak to
no one." So remonstrance was
impossible, and no steering could
be done till the next varnishing
day. During these bewildering
intervals the ship usually sailed
backwards.
As this poem
is to some extent connected
with the lay of the
Jabberwock, let me take this
opportunity of answering a question
that has often been asked me,
how to pronounce "slithy toves." The "i" in "slithy" is
long, as in "writhe"; and "toves" is
pronounced so as to rhyme with "groves." Again,
the first "o" in "borogoves" is
pronounced like the "o" in "borrow." I
have heard people try to give
it the sound of the "o" in "worry.
Such is Human Perversity.
This also seems a fitting occasion
to notice the other hard works
in that poem. Humpty-Dumpty's
theory, of two meanings packed
into one word like a portmanteau,
seems to me the right explanation
for all.
For instance,
take the two words "fuming" and "furious." Make
up your mind that you will say
both words, but leave it unsettled
which you will say first. Now
open your mouth and speak. If
your thoughts incline ever so
little towards " fuming," you
will say "fuming-furious;" if
they turn, by even a hair's breadth,
towards "furious," you will say "furious-fuming;" but
if you have the rarest of gifts,
a perfectly balanced mind, you
will say "frumious."
Supposing that, when Pistol
uttered the well-known words--
Under which
king, Bezonian? Speak or die!"
Justice Shallow
had felt certain that it was
either William or
Richard, but had not been able
to settle which, so that he could
not possibly say either name
before the other, can it be doubted
that, rather than die, he would
have gasped out "Rilchiam!"
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