Being a Johnsonian from way back, I couldn't
help but appreciate Dorinda Dogsbody's
(1762-1850) letter to a friend describing her
meeting at a young age with the Great Man.
After encountering Johnson during a carriage
ride, the Dogsbody patriarch invited him to
Sunday dinner. Dorinda reports:
"Upon arrival at our house and being
ceremoniously shown into the drawing-room,
the Great Man gladly accepted some Sack of
which he drank huge drafts and then belched
with great enthusiasm. My Father was pleased
to take this as a compliment to the quality
of our wine.
In his eternal quest for knowledge he declared
himself eager to taste some of my Father's
rarer wines, and to this effect imbibed, with
much gusto and many eructatory indications of
appreciation, a pint or two of old Madeira,
some bottles of vintage Malmsey and a quart
of pleasant mulled Sherry from the Canaries.
'Ah, stap me kidneys, that was good grapes.
Ah Bacchus!!'
Which classical allusion brought us under the
towering peaks of his giant intellect.
Dinner was served. The good Doctor was now
sweating profusely, great drops pouring from
his craggy brow down the red carbuncular
nose from where they dropped noisily to his
soup, which noise was soon drowned by the
great din created by his huge lips slurping
the scalding broth from the ladle.
Herewith some of his Table Talk:
'Gad, this is a splendid fowl, may I trouble
you for the spleen, Sir? Pass me some
crackling, Miss - crunch - yum yum, any person,
sir, who eschews Pork Fat is a cretin - please
oblige me with some roasted 'taties,
Ma'am ... I declare that the potato is the fairest legume in creation, we have much to thank Sir Walter Raleigh for. An individual
who cares not for Potatoes is a Tollwaddle.
I'll gladly accept some Dumplings,
Miss - berowp!! Better out than in, as the
poet says.'
'Aha, salad! Some asseverate that a mixed
salad is for rabbits; any fellow who so avers
is a numbskull and a bodysnatcher. Pass the
Burgundy - glug, slurp, bola bola bola' (here
Doctor Johnson's stomach took up the
discourse). 'Pass the Fartichokes! Ha ha ha!'
(a jesting allusion to that Vegetables notorious propensity for creating wind).
`Begad, a fine pair of turbot. My compliments,
Ma'am. The turbot is a noble fish - those that
deny this fact are misguided galleymurphies
and incorrigible rogues to boot. Pass the
rough cider and oblige. Glagaaaatch!'
With this he was sick over the Cinnamon
Surprise.
'Phew! That's better - a good puke airs the
guts!'
And after pissing in the umbrella stand the
great man took his leave with much
ceremony."
One cannot help but fight back tears of gratitude for these further insights into
what made the Great Man truly great.
The entire book is equally insightful and
entertaining, and if there's any Justice in
the world it will eventually find a place
on the shelf right next to the English
histories penned by Macauley, Churchill and
Taylor.
Perrott gets bonus points for his titular
allusion to that other
pithy classic of English
history - 1066 & All That: A Memorable History of
England by
W. C. Sellar and R. J. Yeatman, which brought
into the common parlance the phrase "it was
a good thing" (and you thought Martha Stewart
invented that, didn't you?).
posted by Steven Baum
11/4/1999 08:50:18 AM |
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