Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Would you like some Fry with that?
Harry Brighouse at Crooked Timber refers to Stephen Fry as the Greatest Living Englishman, and do you know, I rather think he's right. I can think of very few luminaries who can hold a candle to Mr Fry's multifarious talents -- actor, writer, spokesman for humanism, lover of cricket and voice of the Guide. In recent weeks I've been immersing myself in Fryology (or should that be Fryana?), ever since I acquired the complete Jeeves and Wooster on DVD. Since then I've re-read The Liar and The Hippopotamus, am currently dipping through Paperweight, and plan to re-visit Blackadder soon. Honestly, how can you not worship a man capable of prose such as the following (from Paperweight)?
Lords! The very word is an anagram of 'sordl'. The Headquarters of Cricket. The acre or so of green velvet nestling in the warm folds of St Johnners Wood. The acre (itself an anagram of 'hectare') that is girlfriend, mistress, mother, casual boyfriend, sergeant major, nurse-maid, father-confessor and one-night stand all rolled into one. All rolled into one by the heavy roller of memory, on the square of reminiscence; that square that slopes slightly at one end assisting the deviating swing of recall that causes the ball of thought to cut away from the norm of reality and catch the outside edge of fantasy that is snapped up by the cupped hands of fate.
Lords! The very word is an anagram of 'sordl'. The Headquarters of Cricket. The acre or so of green velvet nestling in the warm folds of St Johnners Wood. The acre (itself an anagram of 'hectare') that is girlfriend, mistress, mother, casual boyfriend, sergeant major, nurse-maid, father-confessor and one-night stand all rolled into one. All rolled into one by the heavy roller of memory, on the square of reminiscence; that square that slopes slightly at one end assisting the deviating swing of recall that causes the ball of thought to cut away from the norm of reality and catch the outside edge of fantasy that is snapped up by the cupped hands of fate.
