Thursday - December 02, 2010

some droll British humor in poetic form … is anyone writing like this anywhere, anymore? doubtful

Living in a foreign country exposes one to new entertainment experiences. I learned a bit with regard to that many years ago, being married to a Brit and visiting here on more then one occasion. And also touring the country end to end as road manager for various American Country Music acts.

Like a lot of Americans of my generation, I was totally misled with regard to Brit humor. We always thought in terms of droll, dry wit. Very sophisticated ie. David Niven to name one.  This was long before Monty Python, keep in mind.  Peter Sellers was working and making ppl laugh, but not yet internationally. I’m talking even before “The Mouse That Roared”. Yeah right.  Dry, understated Brit humor. That’s a laugh right there.  Not that it isn’t true. But the truth, the whole truth and nothin’ but is, there is hardly anything more slapstick, roll on the floor funny and entirely insane funny, then Brit comedy at it’s best.

Sorry if I offend my fellow yanks but, in all the years of TV we have never produced anything to touch “Yes Minister” or “Yes, Prime Minister.” Or “Rising Damp” which I didn’t know what that was until moving here. Not the show, the condition. Rising damp. Can’t talk about slapstick comedy and leave out “Faulty Towers.”
Sadly, they (Brits) haven’t been producing those standards in a long time.  Drama like “Downton Abbey,” sure enough.  They can shine at those. But comedy has become coarse, even for an old salt such as myself. What I mean is, it isn’t clever anymore. The wit is gone in favor of the fast , cheap gag.

I listen to radio here because on occasion there is still something worth listening to.  One of the very best (in fact it is the best) and funniest programs is on every Monday night at 6:30.

It’s called “Just a Minute” where four panelists must speak on a given subject for one minute without ‘hesitation’ - ‘repetition’ or
‘deviation.’ It doesn’t sound like much reading it here in print but it is a howl. It’s on BBC Radio 4.
The moderator is a man named Nicholas Parsons, and he’s 87. AND ... still working. He does more then radio alone. To hear the guy you’d think he was 40. Incredibly funny and incredibly fast thinking.

Well now, although perhaps still known to a British audience (?), I have just discovered a man whose name was, Marriott Edgar.  He was a writer. And I’d say unique. The following might appeal more to an audience here, but I think anyone can appreciate this.  It isn’t Faulty Towers and in fact it’s ... well here.
Read it for yourself.  First though some background.

Marriott Edgar (1880 - 1951 / Kirkcudbright / Scotland)

Marriott, Edgar was born 5th October, 1880 in Kirkcudbright, Scotland and was half brother to the novelist Edgar Wallace. He toured with Stanley Holloway in ‘The Co-Optimists’ and was affectionately known to his friends as ‘George’. He was described as medium height, quiet with a droll sense of humour. Edgar became known for his witty dittys such as The Lion and Albert, Aggie the Elephant, and The Magna Charta, which were immortalized in popular monologues by actor Stanley Holloway. Edgar died in London on 5th May 1951.

Henry the first, surnamed “ Beauclare,”
Lost his only son William at sea,
So when Henry died it were hard to decide
Who his heir and successor should be.

There were two runners-up for the title-
His daughter Matilda was one,
And the other, a boy, known as Stephen of Blois,
His young sister Adela’s son.

Matilda by right should have had it,
Being daughter of him as were dead,
But the folks wasn’t keen upon having a queen,
So they went and crowned Stephen instead.

This ‘ere were a knockout for Tilda,
The notion she could not absorb
To lose at one blow both the crown and the throne,
To say naught of the sceptre and orb.

So she summoned her friends in t’West Country
From Bristol, Bath, Gloucester and Frome,
And also a lot of relations from Scotland,
Who’d come South and wouldn’t go home.

The East Counties rallied round Stephen,
Where his cause had support of the masses,
And his promise of loot brought a lot of recruits
From the more intellectual classes.

The Country were split in two parties
In a manner you’d hardly believe,
The West with a will shouted: “Up with Matilda !”
The East hollered: Come along, Steve!

The two armies met up in Yorkshire,
Both leaders the same tactics tried.
To each soldier they gave a big standard to wave,
In hopes they’d impress t ‘other side.

It were known as the battle o’t Standard,
Though no battling anyone saw,
For with flags in their right hands, the lads couldn’t fight,
And the referee called it a draw.

The next time they met were at Lincoln,
Where Stephen were properly beat,
At the end of the scrap he were led off a captive,
With iron balls chained to his feet.

They took him in triumph to Tilda,
Who, assuming an arrogant mien,
Snatched the Crown off his head and indignantly said
“Take your ‘at off in front of your Queen!”

So Stephen were put in a dungeon,
While Tilda ascended the throne
And reigned undisturbed for best part of a year,
Till she looked on the job as her own.

But Stephen weren’t beat by a long chalk
His plans for escape he soon made,
For he found Tilda’s troops were all getting fed up,
Having heard that they wouldn’t be paid.

So when Tilda got snowed up at Oxford,
Where she’d taken to staying of late,
She woke one fine morn, to the sound of a horn,
And found Stephen outside her front gate.

Her troops gone, her castle surrounded,
She saw she hadn’t a chance,
So, the ground being white, she escaped in her nightie
And caught the next packet for France.

She didn’t do badly at finish,
When everything’s weighed up and reckoned
For when Stephen was gone the next heir to the throne
Were Matilda’s son, Henry the second.

http://www.poemhunter.com/marriott-edgar/poems/

Posted by peiper     on 12/02/2010 at 10:47 AM   
Filed Under: • Humor • UK •  
• Comments (3) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

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