9 years ago
Sunday, December 27, 2015
Final Act
Dear Followers of Berowne's "Savage Reflections." I'm very sorry to have to inform you that my father, John Savage, passed away on December 26, just a week shy of his 94th birthday. He had been in poor health for some time, but he always did everything he could to prepare his Sunday posts, which went up like clockwork. His blog stories and puzzles, and especially the camaraderie of the community of those who followed them, were extremely special to him, so I'd like to thank you for being an important part of his life in recent years. I know he would not want you to feel sad for him, as many of you know through his stories what a rich life he had. If you think of him please remember the warmth, intelligence, and humor of his exchanges with you on this site. Please feel free to post any thoughts or comments, or to e-mail me directly at savage@lehigh.edu. With heartfelt thanks and best wishes, John Savage (Berowne's son)
Sunday, December 20, 2015
Berowne's 299
(Also for ABC Wednesday: "X" is for exasperation.)
Yesterday…
Yesterday…
All my troubles seemed so far away.
But problems then showed up, as if to
stay.
Though I believed in --
Yesterday.
Suddenly…
Something came to live in my hard
drive,
A nasty virus that was real, alive.
No word of warning, just about midday.
I never will forget that –
Yesterday.
I called my faithful old computer guy.
This time, it seems, he had an alibi:
He’d just left for his holiday.
In fact, he’d just left --
Yesterday.
I like to think I’m good as blogging host,
But then I couldn’t even send a post.
The virus knocked my ‘pewter for a loop;
My very blog began to sag and droop.
But now it’s fixed, all set to meet and greet.
Tho I won’t soon forget the disarray
And all the mess that happened –
Yesterday.
(Forgive the exasperation. As
the above indicates, Berowne had a little problem; hopes to be back to normal
next week.)
Labels:
Yesterday
Sunday, December 13, 2015
298 Quiz Answer
The play is “The Tempest.”
Prospero lives on a remote island and along with him is a slave of his
named Caliban, who is sort of a half-man and half whutizzit. Caliban was born on the isle (his mother was
a she-devil, and you what they’re like)
and he is one of the most debated figures in all of theatrical history. Is he just a belligerent monster or is he
worthy of our sympathy? Some say this play
was Shakespeare’s cogent comment on the excesses of colonialism.
(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday: "W" is for "worker")
Here’s
another scenelet that should remind you of a well-known play. Which play?
“I appreciate your seeing me on such short notice.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure; we don’t get many visitors
on the island. In fact, you’re the
first.”
“It’s a fascinating operation you’ve got here. Let me introduce myself. My name is Thomas Pilbeam, of the I L O.”
“Is that like the A F of L?”
“Sort of. I L
O stands for the International Labor Organization. You can spell ‘labour’ with a ‘u’ or
without.”
“Good to know.
But I guess I don’t understand why you’ve come here.”
“The I L O is working hard to protect domestic
workers around the world. Domestic workers often work excessively long hours, without
breaks, days off or holidays. The pay is often very low, with wages frequently
delayed.”
“It sounds like you’re doing fine work,
which I certainly support. But again,
what does any of this have to do with me?”
“You have domestic workers, do you not?”
“I don’t know where you got your info,
but you couldn’t be more wrong. This is
a very small island. I live on it and I
run things but I have no domestic workers, if by that you mean someone to cook
and clean and so on. There’s just one
man, my assistant. He does odd jobs…”
“And he is paid?”
“Of course. When I first hired him he was living wildly
on the island with no job, no money, nothing.
Now he has employment, a place to stay and regular meals. That’s pay, and good pay too.”
“I’m afraid that the I L O would
disagree with you on that. He would be
the type of tense worker who has no legal protection, someone excluded from legal
legislation.”
“But you don’t understand all the things
I’ve done for this guy! He was vengeful at first, living
like a savage – a cannibal, practically - and I taught him language! You ought to hear how he has learned to
cuss!”
(The answer will be posted Saturday.)
Labels:
Worker
Sunday, December 6, 2015
Berowne's 297
(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday: "V" is for "vanished.")
Berowne has no quiz this week; instead - a Love Story.
Berowne has no quiz this week; instead - a Love Story.
I had sat at the typewriter for over an hour, trying to figure out
what to write. (This happened back in the days before ‘pewters.)
I had received an extraordinary letter. It was from a man up in Rhode Island, a man I
had known in the old days.
It was a delicate matter; I had known him and also known his wife,
back before they were married. I had
known her, actually, rather well.
In his letter he said she had left him and he thought I might be
able to help him find her. The problem of what to write was suddenly solved
because the phone rang. Since he hadn’t
received an answer to his letter he decided to call me directly. He got right to the point.
"Reason I wrote you, you went with her for a year or so back
then, before we got married."
“A year or so? It was
actually a few months. And ‘went with
her’ isn’t really accurate; we were friends.”
“That ain’t what I heard.”
“So, well, anyway, how is Marilyn? Okay I hope.”
“Marilyn? You don’t even remember her name. It’s Maureen.”
“Oh, right. You know, it was a long time ago; I was just out of
college. I don’t remember everyone I
knew in those days.”
“Well, as I wrote you, she left. Just got up and left. Vanished."
“Yes, I was sorry to read that.”
“It got me upset; my whole family is upset. It even got her family upset. A married woman. My wife. Just up and leaves. Anyway, I thought you might help.”
“Sure, if I can.”
“Here’s the thing. If she
should ever contact you – you know, call on the phone to talk over old times or
whatever – could you tell her that what she really ought to do is go back to
her husband. And then let me know where
she’s staying. It’s important I find out
where she’s staying.”
“Why do you think she left?”
“Who knows? Maybe she just
don’t like Rhode Island.”
“She told me, way back when she was first talking about getting
married, that she felt vulnerable, that you weren’t – well – all that nice to
her.”
“That’s baloney. As her
husband, I worked hard, fifty hours a week sometimes, to get her whatever she
needed. You can’t be much nicer than
that.”
“But, you never – I’m just trying to figure out why she left --
you never abused her, never hit her or anything like that?”
His voice was resonant with anger: “What’re you -- a shrink or somethin’!? I didn’t call you to get a lecture! I’m a husband from the old school. My whole family, we know how to treat
women.”
“Well, I’m sorry I can’t be of much help. But I'll go along with you; if I should ever
hear from her, I’ll tell her to go back to her husband. Goodbye.”
I hung up the phone.
“Was that him?” she asked.
“Yes. I just hope he stays
up there and doesn’t come down here to our placid life in New York. As I remember, he was a pretty big guy. I’d be inclined to avoid a confrontation.”
“Yes, we’ve got to be careful. When I mentioned divorce, he said
he’d kill me first.”
“And that would mean me second. I can just picture my possible obituary - guess this is what they call living
dangerously. But it’s worth it, Maureen, to have you with me again.”
Labels:
Phone Call
Sunday, November 29, 2015
296 Quiz Answer
The film is
“Chinatown.” In 1937 Los Angeles
detective Jake Gittes (Jack Nicholson) is hired by a woman claiming to be a
Mrs. Mulwray to spy on her husband. Shortly after Gittes is hired, the real
Mrs. Mulwray appears in his office threatening to sue if he doesn't drop the
case immediately. Gittes pursues the
case anyway, slowly uncovering a vast conspiracy centering on water management,
state and municipal corruption, land use and real estate, and involving at
least one murder.
(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday: "U" is for "unfaithful")
Our quiz question is about movies this week.
Because of certain
stories that are very much in the news these days, I got to thinking of a
motion picture of some years back that has been described as a classic.
In some ways it was
your typical detective story. Our hero,
a private investigator – we’ll call him “J” - is contacted by a woman who would
like to know if her husband has been wandering over to the cheating side of
town.
Rather banal and
routine; another adultery case, usually not too profitable for a private
eye. Unless, of course, the characters
involved, the angry woman and the adulteristic hubby, happen to have a lot of
money and influence.
Which they have. The male, in fact, is one of the most
powerful and influential people in the entire region. “J” begins to think he may have latched on to
something big. Big cases mean big
billable hours.
He lackadaisically follows the
gentleman about. This has him attending
various commission meetings and wandering in the hinterlands, for some reason
visiting reservoirs and dams.
He also manages to take
an intimate picture of the unfaithful husband with a friend, a nubile
young woman of a blonde persuasion. A nude photo and its juicy story make newspaper headlines all over the place.
With publicity like
this, “J” figures he has it made. All
kinds of new business should come pouring into his office.
What actually did come
pouring in was surprising.
A woman claiming to
be the man’s wife – his real wife – shows up with her lawyer preparing to sue “J”
for slander and defamation of character, among other things.
It seems the gal
who originally hired him was pretending
to be the wife, all of which has our private eye, and probably a lot of the
film’s audience, pretty solidly confused.
Along the way there’s a murder, too.
As for the makeshift motivation of the film, “J” learns that in this part of the country the word
“gold” was spelled with five letters – W. A. T. E. R. – and in his state that was
a substance more valuable than oil or diamonds.
(It’s about that again today.)
Surely you remember
the movie now. What was its title?
(The answer will be posted Saturday.)
Labels:
Movie
Sunday, November 22, 2015
295 Quiz Answer
The novel is “Great Expectations,” by Charles
Dickens. Pip, a poor orphan boy,
experiences something amazing: an eccentric woman named Miss Havisham arranges
to have his education and other expenses all paid for secretly. Pip vows to be eternally grateful – until he
learns that it was actually someone else, not Miss H., who had put up the
money.
(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday: "T" is for "trust fund")
The
following scenelet should remind you of a novel by an illustrious, world-famous author. Name the novel.
“I realize I’ve said this before, but I promise to
pay you back. It’s just gonna take a
little longer.”
“A little longer!
You’re already two months overdue!
When I loaned you that three hundred bucks you said I’d have it back in
a month.”
“But look at the situation I’m in. I’ve got to study like crazy or I won’t
graduate, and my job only pays a lousy ten bucks an hour.”
“In other words, it's habitual; you never intended to pay me back."
“Well, actually, I guess that’s right. I feel bad about it. Tell you what, let me suggest this. Isn’t there something you need to do – some
chore or other - and you hate to do it?
You could turn it over to me and I’ll handle it for you. I could pay you back that way.”
“Looks like I’ll never see any actual cash. But wait a minute. There is
something… I think you might be able to
handle it. You’ve heard of Miss Trent?”
“Miss Trent?
Sure, everyone in town knows about her.
Wait a minute; what are you getting me into here?”
“Relax; it’s nothing dangerous. I owe her bigtime so I visit her on a regular
basis. However, I’m sort of tired of
having to do it so often, so you do it.
Won’t be hard; all you have to do is visit an old lady for me and chat
with her in a nice gentlemanly way.”
“But Miss Trent?
From what I’ve heard she’s, well, weird.”
“No question, Miss Trent is an unusual character but
that isn’t important. All you have to do
is tell her I don’t feel well this week so I’m sending my best friend to visit
for me.”
“I don’t know about this. Why do you have to visit her anyway?”
“Well, long story short, way back when I was a kid
things were tough financially. Miss Trent did something that was like a miracle. In total secrecy she created a special trust fund
that paid for my education and just about everything else.”
“That’s kind of amazing. Around town she has a jumbled reputation as a
skinflint. Anyway, I guess I could
handle the visit okay.”
“Good. Remember,
that act of generosity was a secret and it’s still a secret. So don’t mention that while you’re talking
with her.”
“If it was such a secret, how could you be sure
she’s the one who put up the money?”
(The
answer will be posted Saturday)
Labels:
Visit
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Berowne's 294
(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday: "S" is for "shrewish")
No quiz this week. Instead I got to thinking about the enigmatic play we dealt with a couple of weeks ago: “The Taming of the Shrew.”
No quiz this week. Instead I got to thinking about the enigmatic play we dealt with a couple of weeks ago: “The Taming of the Shrew.”
It’s strange that a work like this has been
performed so often in our time; the feminist revolution of the past century or
so would seem to have rendered portions of the play – shall we say, faulty?
– for today. But there have been plenty
of staged productions, as well as Broadway musicals and major motion pictures
(“Kiss Me Kate,” for example). Somehow
modern audiences seem to enjoy it.
Here’s the story.
Kate is angry. She has quite a
bit to be angry about. She’s the eldest
daughter, but she feels she has always been treated as second-rate while her
younger sister, Bianca – who is regarded as more beautiful as well as “nicer” –
receives attention and admiration from everyone. So Kate has become sharp-tongued and
quick-tempered and has been known to throw stuff about during a tantrum.
As we mentioned earlier, the father, Baptista, had
the problem all fathers of that era had: he must find suitable husbands for his
daughters. He felt that it was important
that Kate, the eldest, be married first, So Baptista’s rule was, no one could
court (or marry) Bianca until Kate was married.
That’s the situation when our hero, Petruchio,
arrives in town, openly planning to get married.
Well, Kate is available, but locals warn him that
the girl is impossible. However Petruchio,
who can be as loud, boisterous and eccentric as Baptista’s oldest daughter,
disregards everyone who warns him of her shrewishness.
When
he goes to Baptista’s house to meet Kate, they have a tremendous duel of words.
Katherine insults Petruchio repeatedly, but he tells her that he is going to
marry her whether she agrees or not. Hearing
this claim, Kate is strangely silent, so the wedding is set.
One
gets the feeling that deep down, Katherine rather likes the idea of marrying
this brash young man.
Petruchio
does all kinds of wild stuff to prove he’s the boss. He shows up at the wedding under the
alfluence of inkohol while wearing outlandish clothes, and he plays tricks on
his new wife. Today’s audiences tend to
feel a bit uncomfortable during all this; it is clearly abusive behavior.
But
it’s the final sequence that is the hardest to take. Petruchio has succeeded in taming the shrew. His wife has changed greatly; she has become
passive and submissive. When he orders
her to drop what she’s doing and come to him, she practically grovels when she replies:
“What
is’t your honour will command wherein your lady and your humble wife may show
her duty and make known her love?”
Petruchio
replies: “Kiss me, Kate, since thou art become so prudent, kind and dutiful a
wife.”
So
we are left with a question. Is the play
titled “The Taming of the Shrew” an indication of what William Shakespeare
thought an ideal wife should be to have a good marriage? Or is the play actually his attack on the
hypocrisy of the customs and values of his time?
Your
opinion?
Labels:
Kate
Sunday, November 8, 2015
293 Quiz Answer
Will Shakespeare’s dad, John Shakespeare, had quite a
career. Beginning as an illiterate
farmhand, he became skilled at the foul-smelling craft of tanning hides as well
as a successful glover, then moved through the Board of Aldermen to ultimately
become the mayor of the town of Stratford.
Question: who’s this “John” person they’re talking about?
“Come in, sit down.
This shouldn’t take too long.”
“I appreciate the chance to talk with you about this, sir.”
“Sorry I don’t have good news. True, there is an opening on the Board of
Aldermen, but your friend just isn’t qualified.”
“I don't want to distract you but I hoped I could tell you his remarkable life
story…”
“Wait a minute.
You’re going to tell me a life story? My stomach is wiggling about and grumbling; it’s time for my lunch.”
“This will take just a few moments. In one of your speeches you mentioned that
Aldermen of our borough should represent everyone, not just the upper classes.”
“But that didn’t mean we should scrape the bottom of the
barrel. Your man – what’s his name
again?
“John.”
“Right. Well, I don't mean to sound venomous but your man,
from the information I’ve been given, is an illiterate farm worker.”
“Was, sir,
was. That’s why his story is so
inspiring. Because of his incredible
ambition and natural abilities, he has opened a number of successful
businesses. Someone like this is just what
the Board of Aldermen needs.”
“You say businesses, but he has no place of business; he
works out of his home. We sent someone
there to check. He reported back that
the incredible stink drove him out of the place.”
“Well, it is true that type of work, whitening leather, does
create rather strong, er, redolence, but when John makes his specialty,
beautiful white leather gloves, it all seems worthwhile. As you know, the gentry love white leather
gloves and will pay a lot for them, so it’s a successful craft.”
“Are you aware that the substance used in the whitening of
leather is – urine?”
“Yes, I know. So in
his house I’m afraid there’s always a certain…”
“Stench?”
“Well, I’d call it a certain pungency. But all that will of course be gone when he
joins the Board of Aldermen. A true rags
to riches story; he will become a civic leader; his son. by the way, has a great future as a writer. John will be an inspiration to so many in our town. His belief in our eternal values will always
stay with him.”
“Wonder if that redolence will stay with him too?”
(The answer will be posted Saturday)
Labels:
Aldermen
Sunday, November 1, 2015
Berowne's 292
(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday: "Q" is for "quarrel")
Welcome to another in the exciting series titled
“Berowne’s Mediocre Adventures.”
This week: My participation in the French Revolution.
No, not that one,
not the one in the 1700s. The more
recent one, back in 1962. Didn’t know
there was a French Revolution in ’62?
Well, there was, or just about; it got snuffed out at the last minute. And I was there.
A bit of background.
When WWII ended, there was a general thrust for independence on the part
of various geographical possessions throughout the world. The major powers lost most of their colonies.
France lost Indo-Chine
– Vietnam – one of its two most important colonies. And French leaders were seriously resolved
that the other, Algeria, would remain French at all costs. You see, Algeria was different. It was not just a colony; it was legally
classified an integral part of France.
Yet around 1960 many felt that it was time for Algerian
independence. And the President of
France, our old friend Charles de Gaulle, was suspected of getting ready to
grant it.
This threatened French political right-wingers. So there was quite a quarrel going on between the right and the left, occasionally a violent quarrel. A group of generals actually formed an army,
the OAS, the “Organization of the Secret Army,” to assassinate de Gaulle and
take over the country. They planned a
real revolution.
They got things boiling by setting off bombs,
“plastiques,” planted in cafes and such places throughout the country. At the right moment, with the President
killed, thousands of OAS paratroopers would drop from the sky and take over all
governmental agencies.
France would cease being a republique and would become a military dictatorship.
It was in 1962 that young Berowne, somewhat ignorant of
the above, showed up to shoot a film to be titled “One Man’s Paris.”
I thought it odd that folks in the city were constantly
looking skyward, and that there was a lot of talk about “plastiques.”
I had gone to a place to rent a battery for my
camera. All they had was a really
ancient one; I think it must have been one of the first professional motion-picture
batteries ever built. It was an unsightly wooden,
clumsily put-together item, about the size of a shoe box, with wires for the
camera connection.
One day after a morning’s work, I stopped in a café and
took a coffee break. I was getting used
to French coffee – though that takes time, believe me. I placed my ragged-looking camera battery under
one of the tables and…
Suddenly the patron
rushed in and shouted, “Plastique!” and the whole joint, all the customers,
rushed full tilt out the front door.
As I sat there, pondering over this development, a couple
of gendarmes ran in and escorted me out of the place too. How they could have thought that
crummy-looking wooden shoe box was plastique was beyond me, but I guess they
were taking no chances.
Anyway, I convinced them the device was a camera battery and that
I was a de Gaulle supporter from way back.
Speaking of whom, the OAS later set up an elaborate squad
of snipers and machine-gunners at a special intersection to get the Prez as he
rode by. His car was riddled by bullets,
but Citroen had provided a special vehicle and neither de Gaulle or his wife
were hit.
With the President still alive and well, the Second
French Revolution just sort of fizzled out.
Labels:
Revolution
Sunday, October 25, 2015
291 Quiz Answer
The play is “The
Taming of the Shrew.” In the Italian
city of Padua, a wealthy old man named Baptista has declared that no one may
court his beautiful daughter Bianca until first her older sister, the
ill-tempered Katherine, is married.
(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday; "P" is for "Pam")
The
following should remind you of a well-known play. Which play?
Hi, welcome to the weekly quiz. Who am I? I’m Pam, a girl – young woman, to be accurate
– who has a problem.
I’m about average height, a bit above average
intelligence and a placid nature. People tell me so often I’m beautiful that
I’m beginning to believe them. So I’ll
say no more about that.
To top things off, my father – Popsy, I call him –
has money. Quite a lot of it.
Now, you’d think that a mademoiselle with a resume’ like that wouldn’t have too much trouble finding some cool dude to marry. Well, dudes have come and dudes have gone, and I’m still sitting here, un – as the saying goes - attached.
Now, you’d think that a mademoiselle with a resume’ like that wouldn’t have too much trouble finding some cool dude to marry. Well, dudes have come and dudes have gone, and I’m still sitting here, un – as the saying goes - attached.
This nondescript problem can be summed up very simply: my old
man.
My father is the quirky old-fashioned type who believes
that everything - manners, customs, even civilization - all stopped short a
century or so ago. In those days if you
had a number of daughters your job was to marry them off, and to the right type
of person.
But there’s more.
The eldest daughter had to have first crack at whatever suitor walked
through the door. The eldest, who
happens to be my sister, had to get married first; then the youngest, me, would have her chance.
This may seem to you to be a reasonable plan, well
thought out, so what was the problem?
Well, if my first problem was my progenitor, as I
humorously refer to my dad, the second, the bigger problem, was my sister
herself.
Oh, she was attractive enough. And once the blokes in this town were aware
that she had a huge dowry, they all came calling. They’d come to visit, get to know her, and
then they’d take off, like huge birds heading off into the sunset.
And we’d never see them again.
You see, my sis is a special sort of person. My theory is that she’d love to meet a nice chap
and get hitched, but basically she’s insecure.
She hates to appear vulnerable and weak, so she’s very sharp with her
suitors. She’ll casually toss off
quasi-nasty remarks to some poor guy who’s just doing his best to please, and
soon he’s looking around for the exit.
And as for me, I remain un – as I’ve mentioned –
attached.
(The
answer will be posted Saturday.)
Labels:
Marriage
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Berowne's 290
(Also for ABC Wednesday: "O" is for "overwhelming")
No quiz this week.
An amazing thing happened a few days ago. A theatrical company – primarily a dance group, I guess - started to perform right outside my window.
What a show! What pirouettes and jetees, what whirling about!
But then I realized, it’s October. Some stagehand had thrown a switch and the nearby trees suddenly filled the autumnal air with falling, dancing leaves. It really needed some background music, something overwhelmingly classical.
This took me back a few decades, back to the days when American francophiles were fascinated by the work – the poetry and the films – of Jacques Prevert.
Of course, speaking of music, I thought of his song “Les Feuilles mortes” – “Autumn Leaves” – especially as sung by Edith Piaf and Yves Montand.
Prevert’s poetry holds up well today and is perfect for an October day.
“C’est une chanson qui nous ressemble,
Toi, tu m’aimais et je t’aimais.”
It’s a song that’s like the two of us,
You, you who loved me and I who loved you.
“Et nous vivions tous deux ensemble,
Toi qui m’aimais, moi qui t’aimais.”
And the two of us lived together,
You who loved me and I who loved you.
“Mais la vie separe ceux qui s’aiment,
Tout doucement, sans faire de bruit.
Et la mer efface sur le sable
Les pas des amants desunis.”
But life separates those who love,
Softly, making no noise.
And the sea erases on the sand
The footprints of lovers who are no longer together.
Jacques Prevert, 1900-1977
No quiz this week.
An amazing thing happened a few days ago. A theatrical company – primarily a dance group, I guess - started to perform right outside my window.
What a show! What pirouettes and jetees, what whirling about!
But then I realized, it’s October. Some stagehand had thrown a switch and the nearby trees suddenly filled the autumnal air with falling, dancing leaves. It really needed some background music, something overwhelmingly classical.
This took me back a few decades, back to the days when American francophiles were fascinated by the work – the poetry and the films – of Jacques Prevert.
Of course, speaking of music, I thought of his song “Les Feuilles mortes” – “Autumn Leaves” – especially as sung by Edith Piaf and Yves Montand.
Prevert’s poetry holds up well today and is perfect for an October day.
“C’est une chanson qui nous ressemble,
Toi, tu m’aimais et je t’aimais.”
It’s a song that’s like the two of us,
You, you who loved me and I who loved you.
“Et nous vivions tous deux ensemble,
Toi qui m’aimais, moi qui t’aimais.”
And the two of us lived together,
You who loved me and I who loved you.
“Mais la vie separe ceux qui s’aiment,
Tout doucement, sans faire de bruit.
Et la mer efface sur le sable
Les pas des amants desunis.”
But life separates those who love,
Softly, making no noise.
And the sea erases on the sand
The footprints of lovers who are no longer together.
Jacques Prevert, 1900-1977
Labels:
Leaves
Sunday, October 11, 2015
289 Quiz Answer
In the play “Othello,” Iago is
a soldier who has fought beside his general, Othello, for years, and has become
his trusted advisor. But at the beginning of the play, Iago claims to have been
unfairly passed over for promotion; he plots to bring about the downfall of
Othello.
(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday: "N" is for "nefarious")
(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday: "N" is for "nefarious")
The
following scenelet should suggest a very well-known play to you. What’s the name of the play?
"You're still complaining? Hey, you chose a military career and it isn’t really so
bad after all. But you don’t really
agree with that, do you?”
“You bet I don’t.
Fifteen years of service, hellish battles and combat all over the world, risked
my life dozens of times, and what do I wind up with? Two metal bars and a few rows of ribbons –
what good are they in civvie life? “
“Come on; you got your rank, not too bad a pay grade for
retirement.”
“But that – that
– is exactly the point. I was due for
promotion and now that wer're here in Cyprus they bring in this outsider. He’s now the
fair-haired boy as far as the general is concerned. That should have been my job! It was as though it had been promised to
me. For all practical purposes I already
had it; the skipper depended on me for just about everything!”
“Yeah, I know.
I thought it was – well – unfair.”
“Unfair is the least of it. For the good of the service you want
experienced officers. This guy, he
doesn’t seem to have been anywhere or done anything, and he is now the
right-hand man!"
"Relax. It's not as though the general has committed some sort of nefarious act; he has the right to pick the man for the job."
"It's nefarious to me. You know where he's from, the new guy? From Italy, but most important, from Florence!”
"Relax. It's not as though the general has committed some sort of nefarious act; he has the right to pick the man for the job."
"It's nefarious to me. You know where he's from, the new guy? From Italy, but most important, from Florence!”
“So?”
”You know what they do in Florence? They spend most of their time creating delicate
art, making little objects out of spun glass and such. That’s a warrior?”
“You don’t seem to understand that in the military,
politics often plays a more important part than experience. You see, actually, he has been places and
done things.”
“Yeah, like what?”
“Well, he’s been to the right schools, the right
university. He comes from an important
family that seems to know all the right people. And you – let’s face it – you never set foot
in a university and not very many schools as far as that goes.”
“There was a time when a man who started at the lowest level and worked his way through all that
greasy crap right on up to a commission, made the very best, the most
experienced officer!”
“Yeah, yeah.
Listen, I’m on your side. But this new guy
has got the job. It’s obvious that he’s
the general's choice. You should relax
and just accept it. A few years more and
you can retire.”
“In the meantime I’m supposed to take orders from
the likes of this – I don’t
think I can stand it!”
“Hey, I hadn’t realized how much you were ignited by
this. You’ve got to calm down. You’ll get yourself all worked up and maybe
do something stupid to try to get revenge.”
(The
answer will be posted Saturday.)
Labels:
Military
Sunday, October 4, 2015
288 Quiz Answer
In Verdi’s “La
Traviata,” a party is in progress at the Paris home of beautiful Violetta, who
lives for such parties. She thinks for a
moment of the possibility of true love but laughs off the idea, declaring that
her life will remain a whirl of pleasure (“Sempre libera” – always free).
(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday: "M" is for "matchmaker")
This scenelet should suggest a well-known opera to you. Which opera?
(The
answer will be posted Saturday.)
(Also for Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday: "M" is for "matchmaker")
This scenelet should suggest a well-known opera to you. Which opera?
“You say he wants
desperately to see me? Who is this
fellow?”
“He’s a friend of mine
from the South. He traveled all the way
up here just to meet you.”
“You know how busy I
am. Much as I love to meet country
bumpkins, I’ve got to get ready. We’re
having a tremendous party this evening, a huge blowout, the biggest of the
entire season, and I'm absorbed with it. People say I live for
parties; well, tonight I’m going to prove them right!”
“Wait. This is something special. He’s a fine young guy I think you should get
to know. He thinks you’re the most
wonderful woman he’s ever seen; he followed your career for years. His name is Luther.”
“Yes, it would be
something like Luther. Or Li’l Abner. He’s a groupie, in other words; that does
sound boring.”
“He’s no groupie. I know you’re going to find this a bit
strange, but he tells me, and I believe him, he’s – well, he’s really in love
with you. Sort of by long distance.”
“That’s about the last
thing I need in my life right now. Sounds
like you’ve been playing matchmaker behind my back.”
“No, not really. But as your friend, I'm certain that one of
these days you’re going to get tired of this glitzy life style and think about
settling down.”
“Yeah, right. That’s for me. A fence with a white house around it – though
I may have that a bit twisted – and me rocking away on the porch with one of my
thirteen children. Don’t you get
it? I don’t want that empty, settling down thing! You know my motto, don’t you?”
“I should; I hear it
often enough. ‘Sempre libera,’ always
free.”
“Right. And don’t you forget it.”
“Wait till you meet
this young guy. You’ve forgotten what
true love is – maybe you never knew…”
Labels:
Opera
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