Quelle surprise! Our extremely talented (and kind, obviously) friend, the noted classical scholar, houseboat-captain and poetry-comic artist-supreme Nora, has just made my day. Make that week...er, year... well, honestly, century.
This poem (and of course its author), and for that matter Vic Raschi as well, come from a remote epoch. Attic Period, evidently.
By the by, Nora and I had a brief exchange, not excluding Vic from the conversation, in an antediluvian posting of this poem, which also has a picture of Vic -- not to mention a picture of Eurydice (and her Orpheus).
But I love this new version, it's much superior in every way. And that Eurydice! She does look as though she could make somebody a top-notch cleanup hitter.
I'd give my sceptre for those curls, if I could find it.
And if our friend David Lehman has as we suspect a history of Yankee fanhood, this back-channel tribute to Nora's artistry shows the characteristic grace in defeat of that noble clan (!!) for which Vic Raschi once toiled:
"Dear Tom,
"I love the poetry comic centering on your baseball classicism. To go five for five against Vic Raschi and the Yankees was no mean feat. (And I would say so in your comment field if I knew how to do it.)
"David"
By the by, it really was the case that, along about the Middle Mesozoic Period, I received a postcard from that guy who said Vic Raschi was his neighborhood liquor dealer, Vic knew about the poem and all was definitely copasetic on all fronts. Those were the days.
Thanks fellows. It must be the week of the World Mythological Baseball Classic.
Rumour has it the Dutch look good, it's reported they've been pounding spikes into their wooden shoes (utilizing the stiff upper lip -- or was that the ever courageous French?) and taking batting practise against windmills (not hard for us to identify with that, right Sancho?).
Quelle surprise! Our extremely talented (and kind, obviously) friend, the noted classical scholar, houseboat-captain and poetry-comic artist-supreme Nora, has just made my day. Make that week...er, year... well, honestly, century.
ReplyDeleteThis poem (and of course its author), and for that matter Vic Raschi as well, come from a remote epoch. Attic Period, evidently.
By the by, Nora and I had a brief exchange, not excluding Vic from the conversation, in an antediluvian posting of this poem, which also has a picture of Vic -- not to mention a picture of Eurydice (and her Orpheus).
Baseball and Classicism
But I love this new version, it's much superior in every way. And that Eurydice! She does look as though she could make somebody a top-notch cleanup hitter.
Nin,
ReplyDeleteYes, we got a huge kick out of it here. Or wrong metaphor -- out of the park!
Very sweet of you to leave kind words for Nora, in particular as, in the genre of poetry comics, You Are (of course) Legend.
The beard and curls in the first frame suit you very well, TC. I like Eurydice in the last frame too; she could take a few teeth out with that bat.
ReplyDeleteWB,
ReplyDeleteI'd give my sceptre for those curls, if I could find it.
And if our friend David Lehman has as we suspect a history of Yankee fanhood, this back-channel tribute to Nora's artistry shows the characteristic grace in defeat of that noble clan (!!) for which Vic Raschi once toiled:
"Dear Tom,
"I love the poetry comic centering on your baseball classicism. To go five for five against Vic Raschi and the Yankees was no mean feat. (And I would say so in your comment field if I knew how to do it.)
"David"
By the by, it really was the case that, along about the Middle Mesozoic Period, I received a postcard from that guy who said Vic Raschi was his neighborhood liquor dealer, Vic knew about the poem and all was definitely copasetic on all fronts. Those were the days.
Love it. The incongruity of it. Great stuff Tom.
ReplyDeleteA grand slam by anybody's book.
ReplyDeleteThanks fellows. It must be the week of the World Mythological Baseball Classic.
ReplyDeleteRumour has it the Dutch look good, it's reported they've been pounding spikes into their wooden shoes (utilizing the stiff upper lip -- or was that the ever courageous French?) and taking batting practise against windmills (not hard for us to identify with that, right Sancho?).
Whatever works for you in the Underworld.
Tom,
ReplyDeleteAnd now batting clean-up, Eurydice -- what a sweet swing?
3.4
light coming into fog against invisible
top of ridge, robin calling from branch
in foreground, wave sounding in channel
repeated, hear the physical
as seen in part still
figure in smoke, reflection
in light, lighting of
grey white of sky reflected in channel,
shadowed green slope of ridge above it