I find complaining amusing, even laugh-out-loud funny. People are never so serious as when they complain about something, and self-centered seriousness triggers the comedy latent in any human situation. Comic writers know this. Take Evelyn Waugh, a world-class complainer and comedian. In his first and best travel book, Labels: A Mediterranean Journal (1930), Waugh spends his first night in Paris in the Crillon, a comfortable but expensive hotel. Complaints about money – real or parodied -- are always funny. Next day, Waugh moves to a cheaper place:
“My next hotel was
remarkably less comfortable. It was exactly facing into the Metro, where it
runs very noisily above ground, and the bed was, I think, stuffed with skulls.”
Jonathan Swift, whose
biography Waugh threatened to write, often stayed at Quilca, the country home of
his friend the Rev. Thomas Sheridan in County Cavan, Ireland. There he wrote
portions of Gulliver’s Travels. On this date, April 20, in 1724, Swift began
writing a brief prose piece, “The Blunders, Deficiencies, Distresses, and Misfortunes of Quilca.” It amounts to a grand catalogue of complaints, including
these:
“The kitchen perpetually
crowded with savages.”
“The dean's bed
threatening every night to fall under him.”
“Every servant an arrant
thief as to victuals and drink, and every comer and goer as errant a thief of
every thing he or she can lay their hands on. ‘
“A proverb on the laziness
and lodgings of the servants: The worse their sty — the longer they lie.”
Swift later wrote a poem, “ToQuilca,” subtitled “A Country-House in no Very Good Repair, Where the Supposed
Author, and Some of His Friends, Spent a Summer, in the Year, 1725,” which
concludes:
“The Goddess Want
in Triumph reigns;
And her chief Officers of
State,
Sloth, Dirt, and Theft
around her wait.”
The house-guest from hell,
Swift also wrote a series of epigrams about Quilca, including “The Plagues of a
Country Life”:
“A companion without news,
A great want of shoes;
Eat lean meat, or choose;
A church without pews,
Our horses astray,
No straw, oats, or hay;
December in May,
Our boys run away,
All servants at play.”
1 comment:
I followed the link to “The Blunders, Deficiencies, Distresses, and Misfortunes of Quilca". It is hilarious.
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