Johathan Swift Asks For a Job

by Stephen J. Gertz

A two-page signed autograph letter by Jonathan Swift (1667-1745) dated April 15, 1735 to an unidentified Lord (i.e. Lionel Cranfield Sackville, the 1st Duke of Dorset and Lord Lieutenant of Ireland 1731-1737) is being offered by Nate D. Sanders Auctions in its sale ending January 30, 2014 at 5PM Pacific. The opening bid is $5,000.

With customary wit, sarcasm, irony, and playfulness, Swift, at the time Dean of St. Patrick's Church in Dublin and a political exile, asks the Duke to appoint the son of a local Alderman to Mastership of a barrack at Kinsale, a post that had recently become vacant.

Politics is never far from Swift's mind. A Tory propagandist, he pokes fun at the Whigs. 

The Alderman, "is as high a Whig and more at your devotion than I could perhaps wish him to be." Swift refers to "a Doctor who kills or cures half the city, of two Parsons my subjects as [illegible] who rule the other half, and of a vagrant Brother who governs the North." He also mock-demands of the Duke that he order Lady Elizabeth "Betty" Germain (1680-1769), a friend and close correspondent of both and a very wealthy woman who "uses me very ill in her Letters," to give him a present "worth forty shillings at least."

The letter, here broken-up into paragraphs, reads in full:

My Lord 

Your Grace must remember, that some days before you left us, I commanded you to attend me to Doctor Delaney's house, about a mile out of this Town, where you were to find Doctor Helsham the Physician. I told you they were the two worthyest gentlemen in this Kingdom in their severall Faculties. You were pleased to comply with me, called on at the Deanry and carried me thither; where you dined with apparent satisfaction.

Now, this same Dr. Helsham hath orderred me to write to Your Grace in behalf of one Alderman Aldrich; who is master of the Dublin Barrack, and is as high a Whig and more at your devotion than I could perhaps wish him to be. And yet he is a very honest Gentleman, and which is more important, a near Relation of the [political family] Grattans, who, in Your Grace's absence are governors of all Ireland, and your Vicegerents when you are here, as I have often told you. They consist of an Alderman whom you are to find Lord Mayor at Michaelmas next; of a Doctor who kills or cures half the city, of two Parsons my subjects as [illegible] who rule the other half, and of a vagrant Brother who governs the North. They are all Brethren, and your Army of twelve thousand soldiers are not able to stand against them.

Now, Your Grace is to understand, that these Grattans will shickle to death for all their Cousins to the five and fiftieth degree; and consequently this same Alderman Aldrich being onely removed two degrees of Kindred and having a son as great a Whig as the Father, hath prevayled with Dr. Helsham to make me write to Your Grace, that the son of such a Father may have the Mastership of a Barrack at Kinsale, which is just vacant, His name is Michael Aldrich. Both Your Grace and I love the name for the sake of Dr. Aldrich Dean of Christ-church, although I am afraid he was a piece of a Tory, you will have several Requests this Past with the same Request, perhaps for different Persons, but you are to observe only mine, because it will come three minutes before any other.

I think this is the third request I have made to Your Grace. You have granted the two first, and therefore must grant the third. For, when I knew Courts, those who had received a dozen favors, were utterly disobliged if they were denyed the thirteenth. Besides, if this be not granted the Grattans will rise in rebellion, which I tremble to think of. My Lady Eliz. Germain uses me very ill in her Letters. I want a Present from her, and desire you will please to order, that it may be a seal. Mine are too small for the fashion; and I would have a large one, worth forty shillings at least. 

I had a Letter from her two days ago, and design to acknowledge it soon, but business must first be dispatched, I mean the Request I have made to Your Grace, that the young Whig may have the Barrack of Kinsale worth 60 or 70 lb a year. I should be very angry as well as sorry if Your Grace would think I am capapble of deceiving you in any circumstances. I hope and pray that my Lady Dutchess may recover Health at the Bath, and, that we may see her Grace perfectly recovered when You come over. And pray God preserve and your most noble Family in Health and Happyness.

I am with the highest respect:
My Lord Your grace's most obedient
most obliged, and most humble
Servant  Jonath: Swift.

Historian, playwright and novelist Horace Walpole (1717-1797) wrote of Lionel Sackville: "with the greatest dignity in his appearance, he was in private the greatest lover of buffoonery and low company…" Swift thought him one of the most agreeable and well-informed of men, and the best conversationalist he had ever met. Theirs was a deep friendship based upon a shared point of view and sense of humor.

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Images courtesy of Nate D. Sanders Auctions, with our thanks.
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When Irish Elves Are Smiling

by Stephen J. Gertz

They offered a cow for each leg of her cow, but she would not accept that offer.

 When Irish elves are smiling
‘Tis an Arthur Rackham Spring
With the lilt of Irish fairies
You can hear the goblins Sing

The waves of all the worlds seemed to whirl
past them in one huge green cataract.

"Arthur Rackham's two great books of the 'Twenties were James Stephens' Irish Fairy Tales of 1920 and Shakespeare's Tempest of 1926...Beyond the softness of style and inventiveness, the most striking thing about the colour plates for Irish Fairy Tales is the felicitous and appropriate use of Celtic borders" (Gettings, Arthur Rackham, p. 143).

They stood outside, filled with savagery and terror.

The reviews for both author and artist were uniformly glowing, i.e.:

"Children may enjoy it, but like Arthur Rackham's exquisite illustrations, it will be fully appreciated only by more sophisticated readers" (The Review, Vol. 3, 1920).

"James Stephens' writing has the gift of everlasting youth. Arthur Rackham's drawing have inherent magic. Wherefore the two are fortunately met in a new book, primarily for children, but also full of appeal to grown-ups with a sense of humor" (The Independent, December 25, 1920).

She looked with angry woe at the straining and snarling horde below.

Dublin-born poet and novelist James Stephens (1882-1950) was a member of the Irish Literary Revival and co-founder of the Irish Review best known for The Crock of Gold (1912). He campaigned for a free Irish state. He wrote many retellings of Irish myths and fairy tales, The Crock of Gold amongst them. His interpretations are noteworthy for their humor and lyricism.

My life became a ceaseless scurry and wound and
escape, a burden and anguish of watchfulness.

Irish Fairy Tales is a retelling of ten Irish folktales set in a wooded, Medieval Ireland filled with larger-than-life hunters, warriors, kings, and fairies. Many stories concern the Fianna and their captain, Fionn mac Uail, from the Fenian Cycle of Irish mythology.

This copy is in a contemporary binding in full forest green crushed morocco (possibly by Stikeman & Co.) with triple fillets and tooled borders surrounding an inner panel with corner and side devices, broad gilt dentelles, and top edge gilt.

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[RACKHAM, Arthur, illustrator]. STEPHENS, James. Irish Fairy Tales. London: Macmillan & Co., Ltd, 1920. First trade edition. Quarto (8 1/4 x 6 3/8 in; 210 x 160 mm). x, 318 pp. Sixteen full color plates with captioned tissue guards, twenty-one drawings in black and white.

Lattimore and Haskell, p. 52. Riall, p. 138.
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Read the full text of James Stephens Irish Fairy Tales here.
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Images courtesy of David Brass Rare Books, currently offering this title, with our thanks.
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Stephen J. Gertz is a contributor to The Journal of the Arthur Rackham Society.
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Of related interest:

Arthur Rackham Drawing Found in Unrecorded Louis Wain Book.

The Riddle of Arthur Rackham's "Faithful Friends" Solved?

Peter Pan: Still a Boy at 150.
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Irish Eyes Are Smiling At NYU Library

By Nancy Mattoon

Nothing Says "Ireland,"
Like This 1912 Sheet Music Cover.
(All Images Courtesy of Archives of Irish America.)

For over 400 years, the United States has been a second home for thousands of immigrants from Ireland. As early as the 1600's, nearly 100,000 citizens had left the Emerald Isle for America, and by the early 19th century that number had increased at least tenfold. The Irish, like all immigrants, brought with them the culture of their native land. Irish immigrants had an especially strong influence on American popular music.

Nostalgia Reigns Supreme In This 1912 Tune.

Themes of Irish interest played a major role in the development of the sheet music industry in the United States, with hundreds of tunes aimed at the immigrant market written in New York City's Tin Pan Alley. New York University's Tamiment Library, home to The Archives of Irish America, has recently digitized part of its collection of thirteen hundred pieces of sheet music published between the Civil War and World War I, focusing on songs about Ireland and the Irish.

This Undated "Songster" Was A
Lyric Sheet Published Without Music.

The sheet music is part of the The Mick Moloney Irish-American Music and Popular Culture Collection, which is the largest known and most comprehensive collection of Irish Americana in the world. This immense archive includes forty-three boxes of sheet music, which document the Irish image in American popular culture, including both positive and negative stereotypes. The songs cover a wide range of genres, from the sentimental to the patriotic to the comic.

Shamrocks, Harps, And Miss Mary Donohue,
Could This 1909 Tune Be Irish?

Sheet music was a hugely lucrative industry, particularly from the 1860's to the 1930's, and composers, lyricists, and publishers used every major political, sporting, and cultural event as fodder for new tunes. As a result, song sheet covers, richly illustrated with colorful art to stimulate sales, became a virtual history of the struggles and achievements of the Irish in the New World.

One Of The Emerald Isle's Exquisite
Colleen's Inspired This 1891 Waltz.

Songwriters were especially drawn to a few popular themes, using words and images that were instantly identifiable as Irish. Place names such as Killarney, Tipperary, and Kilkenny already had a musical sound, so they were naturals for conveying a magical land of lush green hills and crystal clear rivers, which of course never actually existed. Many songs contain the Irish words Mavourneen, Macushla, and Machree, meaning "My Dearest", "My Love" and "My Heart." And the beautiful Irish Colleen provided instant inspiration, becoming "Peg O’My Heart," "Pretty Kitty Kelly," and "My Wild Irish Rose."

This 1914 Song Longs For An
Ireland that Never Was.

Appropriately, the donor and namesake of the sheet music collection is a famed musician, as well as a scholar. Mick Moloney is a tenor banjoist and vocalist who holds a Ph.D. in Folklore and Folklife from the University of Pennsylvania. He is a Global Distinguished Visiting Professor in NYU's Faculty of Arts & Sciences, teaching in the Department of Music and for the Glucksman Ireland House, whose publications include Far from the Shamrock Shore: The Irish-American Experience in Song (2002). For the past twenty years he has pioneered the collection of Irish-American memorabilia, and in 1999 he was awarded the National Heritage Award from the National Endowment for the Arts.
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Unscrambling Samuel Beckett's "Whoroscope"

His first published poem is a real flooz, er, doozy.

by Stephen J. Gertz

 

What do you call a 100-line poem narrated by a grumpy and delirious René Descartes while he anxiously awaits being served an egg that better have been hatched between eight and ten days or else, and that is - Mother of Mercy! - annotated by its author?

You call it Whoroscope, Samuel Beckett’s first published poem.

Poet Andrew Goodspeed, in Contemporary Poetry Review, called it, “Oblique, resistant, and complex to the scholar as it is to the novice reader…squalor for squalor’s sake, indulgence in gloom, endless obscurity, pointless obscurantism, unfollowable erudition, reference to the untraceably personal, and the occasional unexplained diversion towards what seems motiveless degradation of humanity…sprawling, abrupt, amusing, obscure, disgusting, fantastically referential and, of all things, annotated. It betrays the provocative erudition, intellectualist sneering, and verbal confrontationality that Beckett adopted early.”

In other words, you may, when finished reading, ask yourself and anyone nearby, “WTF?” At which point your mettle is tested: run screaming into the void, or go back to re-read, sink into, swallow, and digest. If you’re Samuel Beckett you might add, “then excrete.”

It is, nonetheless,  an inspiring poem. It inspired literary critic William Bysshe Stein to write a sunny  side up eggsegesis, Beckett’s “Whoroscope”: Turdy Ooscopy, that begins:

The method of this study mirrors an ooscopy, a divination from eggs. And it is not alone the fowl taste of the renowned philosopher Descartes for omelets 'made from eggs hatched from eight to ten days' that inspires this approach. Patently, this biographical fact fertilized the imagination of Samuel Beckett, its implicit absurdity underlying his perverse embryogenetic treatment of certain major philosophical, religious, scientific, and emotional crises in the life of Descartes. As a realized conception, the egg in one way or another yokes together these predicaments.

Ova my dead body.

The poem is legendary for its creation. Beckett cranked it out in one night, in Paris, desperate to meet  a submission deadline. He completed "half before dinner, had a guzzle of salad and Chambertin...and finished it about three in the morning." He then mailed it  for consideration in a poetry contest held by shipping-heiress and poet, Nancy Cunard. He won (£10) and  Whoroscope was published in its first separate edition by The Hours Press, Cunard’s small publishing house devoted to literary Modernism and experimental poetry, in 1930.

You can read the full text of, and annotations to, Whoroscope here.

Or, you can avoid a potential cerebral hernia and simply read the Booktryst version, which unscrambles the poem to get to the heart of the matter, that which sets-off and sustains this wacked-out monologue suspended in space and time and exclusive of all but its own internal reference points, The Cosmic Egg:

Ode to Oeuf

What's that?
An egg?
By the brother Boot it stinks fresh.
Give it to Gillot

What's that?
A little green fry or a mushroomy one?
Two lashed ovaries with prosciutto?
How long did she womb it, the feathery one?
Three days and four nights?
Give it to Gillot

What's that?
How long?
Sit on it.

In the name of Bacon will you chicken me up that egg.
Shall I swallow cave-phantoms?

Are you ripe at last,
my slim pale double-breasted turd?
How rich she smells,
this abortion of a fledgling!
I will eat it with a fish fork.
White and yolk and feathers.


Well, maybe not the Cosmic Egg. Sometimes an egg is just an egg.

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Take a look and listen to a very well done reading, courtesy YouTube:

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A beautiful copy (No. 59) of this, the first separate edition of Whoroscope, one of only 100 signed copies, and including the usually absent wraparound, has come to market, courtesy of Santa Barbara-based  rare bookman, Ralph Sipper  (aka Joseph the Provider). A fragile little thing (the book, not Sipper), the wraparound even more so, it is somewhat miraculous that any have survived in complete state. It is dear and highly desired.

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BECKETT, Samuel. Whoroscope. Paris: The Hours Press, 1930. First separate edition, one of 100 copies signed by the author (of a total edition of 300). 8vo. [ii], 4. [2] pp. Printed wrappers.

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Images courtesy of Ralph Sipper, with our thanks.

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