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Wednesday 24th June Monsignor Ryan

24/6/2020

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The Naming of Cats
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover--
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.
T. S. Eliot
Picture

Monsignor Ryan’s Reflections on “The Naming of Cats”

The Naming of Cats was published in 1939. It was featured in a poetry collection called, “Old Possums Book of Practical Cats”. This collection contains whimsical poems about feline psychology and sociology. “The Naming of Cats “ particularly describes the names of cats and how they receive them. This is addressed to humans by the “lyrical voice” who tries to teach the reader more about feline life. The poem shares the mysteriousness and the deviousness of cats. Most of the poems in “Old Possums Book of Practical Cats” were written in the 1930’s and included in letters to T S Eliot’s godchildren. In 1939, these were included and first published. “Old Possums Book of Practical cats” includes fifteen poems. The last one in the collection, “Cat Morgan introduces Himself”, was added in the 1952 edition. The Naming of Cats” and “Old Possum Book of Practical cats” was adapted for stage by Andrew Lloyd Webber. His appraisal is the best-known musical adaptation of the poem.

“The Naming of Cats”, has a great number of literary devices such as allusion, similes, and repetitions. Personification is one of the main literary devices as cats are given human characteristics. The “lyrical voice” acquires a didactic, but playful tone. He/she explains about the naming of cats, but at the same time, he/she plays with the external references and different types of allusions. The rhythm scheme of the poem is ABAB and produces a short and rhythmical dialogue.

The “lyrical voice” explains how a cat can have three different names firstly, the name given by their human family, secondly a particular name, thirdly an unknown name for humans.

The poem begins by stating the importance of the naming of cats. There is an allusion to “Alice in Wonderland” to compare the reader’s possible thought while reading to a reference he/she knows and has read about. (“You may think that I am as a mad as hatter”).

Notice the emphasis made in capital letters to the number of names a cat has. Then the “lyrical voice” talks about the first name, the family name and gives examples of names (such as … /all of them sensible everyday names”) these repetitions and rhyme schemes create a particular rhythmical pace in the poem which is almost song like. Then the “lyrical voice” proceeds to talk about the second name a cat has. This is a particular name which the cat possesses as it brings pride to the cat.
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Finally the “lyrical voice” talks about the third and last name. There is an emphasis on the impossibility of knowing this name (“and that is the name you’ll never guess/the name that no human research can discern”). But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess. There is some mystery about the final name, as the narrator states it will never be known to humans as is evidenced in the final lines (“of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:/his ineffable, effable Effanineffable”). This change in rhythm and structure allows the “lyrical voice” to finish the poem dramatically and to capture the reader’s attention.

Thomas Stearns Eliot 1888 – 1965 

T. S. Eliot was a British essayist, playwright and social critic. Although he was born in the United States, he became a British citizen in 1927. He moved to England in 1914, at the age of 25, and stayed in England for the rest of his life.

He is renowned as one of the greatest poets of the twentieth century. He was one of the leading figures in the Modernist movement in the early 1900’s. Among his most famous poems are: “The Waste Land”, “The Hollow Man”, “Ash Wednesday” and “Four Quartets”.

​T S Eliot won a Nobel Prize for literature in 1948.
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Wednesday 17th June Monsignor Ryan

17/6/2020

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The Owl and the Pussy-Cat

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea 
In a beautiful pea-green boat, 
They took some honey, and plenty of money, 
Wrapped up in a five-pound note. 
The Owl looked up to the stars above, 
And sang to a small guitar, 
"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love, 
What a beautiful Pussy you are, 
You are, 
You are! 
What a beautiful Pussy you are!" 
 
Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl! 
How charmingly sweet you sing! 
O let us be married! too long we have tarried: 
But what shall we do for a ring?" 
They sailed away, for a year and a day, 
To the land where the Bong-Tree grows 
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood 
With a ring at the end of his nose, 
His nose, 
His nose, 
With a ring at the end of his nose. 
 
"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling 
Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will." 
So they took it away, and were married next day 
By the Turkey who lives on the hill. 
They dined on mince, and slices of quince, 
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;  
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, 
They danced by the light of the moon, 
The moon, 
The moon, 
They danced by the light of the moon.
Picture
Edward Lear

Monsignor Ryan’s Reflections on “The Owl and the Pussy-Cat” 

“The Owl and the Pussy-Cat” is probably Edward Lear’s most famous poem, and a good example of Victorian nonsense verse. But can we really analyse nonsense literature, or subject it to critical scrutiny? After all, the very name implies that it is not supposed to make sense. Yet whenever a poem attains iconic status, it is worth reflecting on how it achieved that status.

“The Owl and the Pussy-Cat” was first published in Lear’s 1871 collection, “Nonsense, Stories, Botany, and Alphabets”. The poem, in summary, tells of the love between the owl and the pussycat and their subsequent marriage, with the turkey presiding over the wedding. They obtained the wedding ring from a pig who sells own his own for a shilling. It is not so well known that Edward Lear wrote “The Owl and the Pussy-Cat for a friend’s daughter, Janet Symonds who was born in 1865 and was three years old when Lear wrote the poem. Janet was the daughter of a friend, John A. Symonds who was a pioneering poet in his own right. Concerning “The Owl and Pussy-Cat” is one male and one female? We have a definite answer supplied by Lear himself in a little known sequel. There it is revealed that the owl is male and the pussycat female.

The word “runcible” in the poem was a coinage of Lear for this particular poem. Yet nobody is sure what “runcible” actually means. It is defined in the Oxford Dictionary as simply a nonsense word coined by Lear. Lear himself didn’t help matters. As well as applying the word to a spoon he went onto to use “runcible" to describe his hat, a wall and even his cat.
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But this still leaves us with the question is “The Owl and the Pussy-Cat” meant to mean anything or is it a delightful fantasy? After all it features anthropomorphic animals: the owl and the pussycat can talk, the owl sings a song and plays the guitar, the pig is involved in financial transactions and the turkey officiates at ceremonies. So is this making a commentary on Victorian society? There are endless interpretations and theories. My own opinion is that we are dealing with nonsense literature and should consequently treat it as such. We are clearly in a fantasy world here, and should surely simply enjoy the delicious use of language, rhyme and imagery.

Edward Lear 1812-1888

Edward Lear was an English artist, illustrator, musician, author and poet.

He is principally known for his literary nonsense in poetry and prose and especially his limericks, a literary form he took pride in popularising.
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Wednesday 10th June Monsignor Ryan

10/6/2020

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Stop All the Clocks (”Funeral Blues”)

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
 
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
 
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
 
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W. H. Auden
Picture

Monsignor Ryan’s Reflections on “Funeral Blues” (Stop All the Clocks)

“Funeral Blues” (Stop All the Clocks) was written and first published in 1938. It is a poem about the immensity of grief: the speaker has lost someone important but the rest of the world doesn’t slow down or stop to pay its respects-it just keeps plugging along as if nothing has changed. The speaker experiences this indifference as a kind of torment and demands that the world grieves too.

Grief in the poem, is thus presented as deeply isolating, an emotion that cuts off the people who grieve from the world around them. It conveys an unrelenting pessimism best exemplified by the last line, “For nothing now can ever come to any good’. The poem is morose, sad elegy that wonderfully describes the feelings associated with grieving.
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The poem is principally famous for modern audiences thanks to its appearance in the successful, romantic comedy, “Four Weddings and a Funeral”.

W. H. Auden 1907-1973

Wystan Hugh Auden was an English poet, playwright, critic and librettist. He exerted a major influence on the poetry of the Twentieth century. Although born in York he grew up in Birmingham. He was known for his outstanding intellect and wit. His first book of poems was published in 1930 with the help of T. S. Elliot.
​
Just before the outbreak of Word War II, Auden emigrated to the United States. It was there in 1948 that he won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry for his work, “The Age of Anxiety”. Much of his poetry is concerned with moral issues and evidences a strong political, social and psychological context. He collaborated in writing libretti for the musical works of Benjamin Britten, Stravinsky and Mozart.
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Wednesday 3rd June 2020 Monsignor Ryan

3/6/2020

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The Old Vicarage, Grantchester
(written at the Cafe des Westens, Berlin, May 1912)
Just now the lilac is in bloom,
All before my little room;
And in my flower-beds, I think,
Smile the carnation and the pink;
And down the borders, well I know,
The poppy and the pansy blow . . .
Oh! there the chestnuts, summer through,
Beside the river make for you
A tunnel of green gloom, and sleep
Deeply above; and green and deep.
Here am I, sweating, sick, and hot,
And there the shadowed waters fresh
Lean up to embrace the naked flesh.
Temperamentvoll German Jews
Drink beer around; -- and there the dews
Are soft beneath a morn of gold.
Here tulips bloom as they are told;
Unkempt about those hedges blows
An English unofficial rose;
And there the unregulated sun
Slopes down to rest when day is done,
And wakes a vague unpunctual star,
A slippered Hesper; and there are
Meads towards Haslingfield and Coton
Where das Betreten's not verboten.
And Cambridgeshire, of all England,
The shire for Men who Understand;
And of that district I prefer
The lovely hamlet Grantchester.
For Cambridge people rarely smile,
Being urban, squat, and packed with guile;
But Grantchester! ah, Grantchester!
There's peace and holy quiet there,
Great clouds along pacific skies,
And men and women with straight eyes,
Lithe children lovelier than a dream,
A bosky wood, a slumbrous stream,
And little kindly winds that creep
Round twilight corners, half asleep.
In Grantchester their skins are white;
They bathe by day, they bathe by night;
The women there do all they ought;
The men observe the Rules of Thought.
They love the Good; they worship Truth;
They laugh uproariously in youth;
(And when they get to feeling old,
They up and shoot themselves, I'm told) . . .
The chestnuts shade, in reverend dream,
The yet unacademic stream?
Is dawn a secret shy and cold
Anadyomene, silver-gold?
And sunset still a golden sea
From Haslingfield to Madingley?
And after, ere the night is born,
Do hares come out about the corn?
Oh, is the water sweet and cool,
Gentle and brown, above the pool?
And laughs the immortal river still
Under the mill, under the mill?
Say, is there Beauty yet to find?
And Certainty? and Quiet kind?
Deep meadows yet, for to forget
The lies, and truths, and pain? . . . oh! yet
Stands the Church clock at ten to three?
And is there honey still for tea?

Picture
Rupert Brooke 1887-1915
Monsignor Ryan’s Reflections on “The Old Vicarage, Grantchester”

This poem takes me back to Primary and early High School. As they say, “You have to crawl before you can walk…”. This is what caught my imagination and gave me a taste for poetry. The rhyming couplets and the even meter, which some critics find boring and pedestrian, appeal to me. For me it is sheer nostalgia! It transports me to my youth and childhood. The quotation that propelled Rupert Brooke into the national psyche:

“If I should die, think only this of me,
That there’s some corner of a foreign field 
That is forever England.”

This is from his fifth war sonnet, “The Soldier.” The war sonnets (this is not the time nor occasion for visiting them) are probably Brooke’s finest poetry, Their quality often clouded because of the sentiments of glory they embody, were out of date almost as soon as they were expressed. Sadly Brooke died, not in the tragic heroism of Flander’s Field but rather more prosaically from sepsis as a result of a mosquito bite. He was en route to the Dardanelles when this happened. This was only six weeks after completing “The Soldier”.

Modernist critics made the Georgian poets obsolete. Brooke was judged to be a popular rather than a consciously literary poet. Having died at such an early age, he was not given the chance to redress this. Had he survived the War and been up against the likes of T.S. Elliot who knows how he would have responded to the challenge?
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Of his Collected Poems my favourite is “The Old Vicarage” the poem he wrote in Berlin in the Spring of 1912. The Old Vicarage” named after the house in the Cambridge Village where Rupert Brooke had rooms, is a poem of nostalgia. The village was and still is an English idyll. Sitting at a table in a Berlin café, “The Old Vicarage” is Brooke’s version of “home thoughts from abroad”. Brooke recalls the scene he was missing. The poem shows Brooke’s ability to use verse, not just for varying degrees of musicality, but for scene-painting. The poem is a paean not just to this rural idyll but to English history and its people and to the ease of England compared to the regimentation of Germany. Brooke would see little of his Arcadia but in “The Old Vicarage” Grantchester he left us the perfect picture of it.

Rupert Brooke 1887-1915
Rupert Brooke was born on 3rd August 1887 at Rugby in Warwickshire. Rupert attended Rugby School where his father was a housemaster. At school Brooke excelled in both academics and athletics. From Rugby School he proceeded to King’s College, Cambridge where he completed a degree in English Literature.

He was an English poet known for his war sonnets written during the First World War.
​
After graduation he toured North America, New Zealand and the Pacific islands. He returned home shortly before the outbreak of World War I. At the outbreak of war he enlisted in a division of the Royal Navy. In 1915 he set sail for the Dardanelles. En route he developed sepsis as a result of a mosquito bite. He died on the Greek island of Skyros and he is buried in olive grove on that island.
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    Monsignor James Ryan
    ​

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St Andrew's RC Church
29 Roman Road
Bearsden
Glasgow
G61 2SN
Telephone : 0141 942 4635
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