Some theatre each day keeps the doctor away…


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Our apprehension lours reality.

Our apprehensions lour reality.

Something like that.  I can’t remember what the exact line was in Clarissa (though it was in Letter 201), but that’d be how I’d put it in iambic pentameter, methinks.  Or perhaps I’d begin it with “your” instead of “our”, if I wanted a character to be speaking to another.

(Nevermind, I found the line: “Evils in apprehension are often grater than evils in reality”.)

I think I like my line better, with its nod to Richard III.  (It’s only a reference in my head, I suppose, because I’m fairly certain that the only time I’ve heard/read the word ‘lour’ is in the opening speech of that play.  Now is the winter of our discontent/Made glorious summer by this sun of York/And…  I can’t remember any more.  (And all the clouds that lour’d upon our house/In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.  I looked it up.))  (I remember that I used to always think there was a comma at the end of the first line, hence giving it a different and confusing meaning, but for the life of me I can’t conjure up what I used to think it meant.)

I like my line better, but I don’t like my line all that much, unfortunately.  Wise, yes.  Succinct, yes.  Got that special spark to it?  Not quite.

Nothing on the scratchie today, though I’ve got two new ones to add to my pile (the two free ones that I won previously).

I read The Tales of Beedle the Bard by J.K. Rowling today – a companion book to Harry Potter.  Quite delightful, it was.  Five little fables with mini-essays/commentaries by Albus Dumbledore after each.  Quite humorous, the essays were.  And quite good stories, the tales were – that deceptive simplicity that all good short, moralistic stories have.  Heavy use of the Rule of Three in them, too.  There’s something very primitive, very base (base as in ‘bottom, primal’, not ‘degrading’) about the Rule of Three.

Finished Letter 202.  And I’m thinking of being naughty and reading another book before I move on with Clarissa.  (I was going to read a book every 50 letters, but forwent the opportunity at 150 – though obviously I availed myself of it today at 200 – so theoretically I have one in the bank, as it were.)  Not that I’m not enjoying it, but it’s denser than a mudcake in a black hole.


Written by epistemysics

December 29, 2012 at 1:01 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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