If it’s Saturday, I must be packing to hop on the Eurostar to head to London! What I’m doing there
My apologies for this late post. This is my first “writing day” or, if you like, my first goofing off day in my new schedule. And you’ll see why I’m posting late when I tell you what I did today–meeting with friends and going to an art museum
As you all know, it’s the anniversary of 9/11 and at first it almost seemed wrong to have such a hedonistic day. I find myself looking for omens on the anniversary: is the weather similar? No, today was warm and cloudy. 2001 was a perfect fall day, crisp and cool, with more orange and yellow in the trees, and the season more advanced. When I heard the first announcement on NPR at about 8:48 am I was just turning into the parking lot at work (and I can’t remember why I decided to drive into work that day, but I was glad I did, because I wouldn’t have been able to get home). I was driving at that time today, too. I was listening to the radio with some degree of anxiety.
But also with some degree of anticipation because I was about to meet up with my friend Christie Kelley, who gave me one of her brand new cover flats (we laughed about the chandelier with light bulbs and the hero’s huge phallic thumb). We talked about what we were writing or not writing and a whole lot of other things.
Then this afternoon I went into Washington DC to meet Celia May Hart and talked about–yes, what we were writing or not writing and a whole lot of other things. We met up at the National Portrait Gallery and looked at some pix of men with beards (e.g., Walt Whitman) as well as a special exhibit on Katherine Hepburn.
And then home to blog and to continue the slum clearance and renovation of what will eventually become my office.
Altogether, a good day, and a good day to celebrate friendship and community.
I’m back in party planning mode, now for my youngest’s 9th birthday. We’ve decided to do an acting/improv theme, having kids use whatever props and costumes we have around the house (and they are many and varied!) doing skits and playing games similar to those on “Whose Line is it Anyway?” Games like Superheroes and Party Quirks, the one in which “guests” are given slips of paper with descriptions of what they are to act out and the “host” must guess what they are supposed to be.
It’s actually not unlike some party/parlor games played during the Regency. Amateur theatricals such as in Mansfield Park, glees and charades were typical house party entertainment. While googling around, I also found evidence for a number of games, some familiar, like “Blind Man’s Buff”, and some that were new to me. Such as this one:
I was surprised to hear that you did not know what a Bullet Pudding is, but as you don’t I will endeavour to describe it as follows: You must have a large
pewter dish filled with flour which you must pile up into a sort of pudding with a peek at top. You must then lay a bullet at top and everybody cuts a slice of it, and the person that is cutting it when it falls must poke about with their noses and chins till they find it and then take it out with their mouths of which makes them strange figures all covered with flour but the worst is that you must not laugh for fear of the flour getting up your nose and mouth and choking you: You must not use your hands in taking the Bullet out. ” –Fanny Austen to a friend, January 17, 1804
As I don’t have servants to clean up, I doubt I’ll do this one at our party!
The Jane Austen Center lists quite a few games played during the Regency and even by Jane Austen and her family. They include games like “Snapdragon” (which sounds dangerous to me!), Bouts-rimees, and “Rhymed with rose”. Here’s what Jane herself came up with:
Happy the lab’rer in his Sunday clothes!
In light-drab coat, smart waistcoat, well-darn’d hose,
And hat upon his head, to church he goes;
As oft, with conscious pride, he downward throws
A glance upon the ample cabbage rose
That, stuck in button-hole, regales his nose,
He envies not the gayest London beaux.
In church he takes his seat among the rows,
Pays to the place the reverence he owes,
Likes best the prayers whose meaning least he knows,
Lists to the sermon in a softening doze,
And rouses joyous at the welcome close.
How about you? Do you enjoy theatricals? Parlor games? Which games would you most like to see at a Risky Retreat? Here’s one I think we could play if we invited the right guests: say Colin, Orlando, Sean and Gerard?
Elena
www.elenagreene.com
Risky Regencies now presents…
a Cara King gone mad production… of
Jane Austen’s “BATMAN.”
When Batman and the Joker were alone, the former, who had been cautious in his threats to the arch-villain before, expressed just how very much he was in opposition to him.
“You are just what a young man should not be,” said Batman, “nonsensical, bad-humoured, lively; and I never saw such intemperate manners!–so much ease, with such perfect bad breeding!”
“I am also handsome,” replied the Joker, “which a young villain ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. My character is thereby complete.”
“I was very much angered the other day by your asking me to choose who was to live, and who to die. I did not expect such an insult.”
“Did not you? And yet it nonetheless occurred. But that is one great difference between us. Chaos always take YOU by surprise, and ME never. What could be more natural than me asking you to compromise your principles, your integrity, your commitment to never varying your facial expression? I could not help seeing that you were about five times as self-righteous as every other man in Gotham City. No thanks to my perspicacity for that. Well, you certainly are very noticeable, and I give you leave to wear your unbending suit of petroleum derivatives as much as you please. You could have worn many a stupider costume.”
“I do not understand you!”
“Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to expect people to think as you do. You always see a fault in anybody who enjoys mayhem. All the world should be good and orderly in your eyes. I never heard you showing tolerance to actual human nature in your life.”
“I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always confront those I judge criminal.”
“I know you do; and it is THAT which makes the wonder. With YOUR keen intelligence, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of law and order! Affectation of honesty is common enough–one meets with it everywhere. But to be a crusader full of ostentation and design–to take the bad of everybody’s character and make it cause for action, and monotone muttering–belongs to you alone. And so you dislike the way in which I conduct myself, do you? My manners are not equal to Harvey Dent’s?”
“Certainly not–at first. He is a very pleasing man when you converse with him. But Miss Dawes has a wish to live with Mr. Dent, and keep his house; and I am much mistaken if I shall not find him a less charming man if she does.”
Cara
Cara King, who could use an Alfred to look after her books
