Topical Guide 146
Mark Dorset
Life: Its Vicissitudes
Spike was right at the front of the line, waiting at the auditorium doors. She was passing the time playing jacks. She was down on the floor, scooping up jacks with remarkable dexterity, apparently immune to the tension that filled the hall. Behind her were Biff, Studs, Chuck, and Knuckles. When I reached her, Spike snatched up the jacks, stood up, and called out, “Okay! Here’s Peter! Now we’ll find out ‘who loses and who wins; who’s in, who’s out—’” She stood there grinning at me, waiting for me to acknowledge that I recognized the line. I smiled weakly and nodded my head.
Little Follies, “The Girl with the White Fur Muff”
ACT V. SCENE III. The British camp near Dover.
Enter, in conquest, with drum and colours, EDMUND, KING LEAR and CORDELIA, prisoners; Captain, Soldiers, &c
EDMUND
Some officers take them away: good guard,
Until their greater pleasures first be known
That are to censure them.
CORDELIA
We are not the first
Who, with best meaning, have incurr’d the worst.
For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down;
Myself could else out-frown false fortune’s frown.
Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?
KING LEAR
No, no, no, no! Come, let’s away to prison:
We two alone will sing like birds i’ the cage:
When thou dost ask me blessing, I’ll kneel down,
And ask of thee forgiveness: so we’ll live,
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news; and we’ll talk with them too,
Who loses and who wins; who’s in, who’s out;
And take upon’s the mystery of things,
As if we were God’s spies: and we’ll wear out,
In a wall’d prison, packs and sects of great ones,
That ebb and flow by the moon.
EDMUND
Take them away.Shakespeare, King Lear
I laugh at all . . . a mere spectator of other men’s fortunes and adventures, and how they act their parts, which methinks are diversely presented unto me, as from a common theatre or scene. I hear new news every day, and those ordinary rumours of war, plagues, fires, inundations, thefts, murders, massacres, meteors, comets, spectrums, prodigies, apparitions, of towns taken, cities besieged in France, Germany, Turkey, Persia, Poland, &c., daily musters and preparations, and such like, which these tempestuous times afford, battles fought, so many men slain, monomachies, shipwrecks, piracies and sea-fights; peace, leagues, stratagems, and fresh alarms. … Today we hear of new lords and officers created, tomorrow of some great men deposed, and then again of fresh honours conferred; one is let loose, another imprisoned; one purchaseth, another breaketh: he thrives, his neighbour turns bankrupt; now plenty, then again dearth and famine; one runs, another rides, wrangles, laughs, weeps, &c. This I daily hear, and such like, both private and public news, amidst the gallantry and misery of the world; jollity, pride, perplexities and cares, simplicity and villainy; subtlety, knavery, candour and integrity, mutually mixed and offering themselves; I rub on privus privatus.
Robert Burton (as Democritus Junior), The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621–1651)
Madness, Senility, Dementia
Bobby Swanson walked onto the stage, struck a histrionic pose in front of me, making his eyes bulge out and pulling at his hair, and cried, “‘Doesn’t anybody here know me?’” He looked quite mad. He beat his chest and bellowed, “‘This is not Lear!’”
“You’re telling me,” muttered Matthew.
“Okay, Bobby,” said Clarissa. “That was very interesting—especially the way you made your eyes bulge out.”
“Don’t you want me to do some more?” asked Bobby.
“Oh, no,” said Clarissa. “That’s enough, I think. It was—uh—very interesting the way you made your eyes bulge out. Thank you, Bobby. Let’s see Biff Parker next.”Little Follies, “The Girl with the White Fur Muff”
GONERIL
Come, sir,
I would you would make use of that good wisdom,
Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away
These dispositions, that of late transform you
From what you rightly are.
FOOL
May not an ass know when the cart
draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee.
KING LEAR
Doth any here know me? This is not Lear:
Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
Either his notion weakens, his discernings
Are lethargied—Ha! waking? ’tis not so.
Who is it that can tell me who I am?
FOOL
Lear’s shadow.Shakespeare, King Lear, Act I, Scene IV
When I’m in trouble or out of step
If my balance has been upset
Oh, there's a feeling I can’t accept
There’s one thing, helps me to forget
Wonder what I’m thinking
Wonder why I’m drinking
But it’s plain to see
I’m not the man I used to be
If life were easy and didn’t ask
Didn’t tease me or take things back
I could start to understand
What makes me the man I am
Wonder what I’m thinking
Wonder why I’m drinking
But it’s plain to see
I’m not the man I used to be
Oh, it’s plain and it’s a shame
I’m not the man I used to be
I’ve lost dreams that won’t come back
Memories fading fast
I should save the ones I have
What’s the use?
Most of them are bad
Wonder what I’m thinking
Wonder why I’m drinking
But it’s plain to see
I’m not the man I used to be
Oh, it’s plain and it’s a shame
I can’t explain
But I’m not the man I used to be
It’s a shame, don’t know my name
I can’t explain
I’m not the man I used to be
Do you know my name?
Do you, do you need me?
But I’m not the man...Roland Gift, “I’m Not the Man I Used to Be”
[more to come on Tuesday, December 7, 2021]
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