tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-305486712024-02-08T05:17:12.949+00:00EX LIBRIS : Brian SibleyTREASURES from my LIBRARYBrian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-58372146495663148552021-01-22T16:32:00.002+00:002021-01-22T16:33:26.573+00:00Signed Books: 2 – JOURNEY'S END<p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Among my collection of signed books are volumes given to me by writers who were also friends along with others by writers, actors and celebrities whom I interviewed while broadcasting on the BBC's radio arts programmes or encountered while making my various radio documentary series; but, over the years, I have also bought signed copies of books from second-hand book shops, on-line book dealers and at auction. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Today's book is one such although I cannot now remember where I purchased this copy of <i>Journey's End</i> which recently surfaced in a box of books that hadn't been looked into for a number of years. What I certainly hadn't remembered was quite what a particular copy this is...</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXD0y4ZgDYB4cyyO6Y7bDHgntqlIYJ2Kqp08Tt6fIujiQLdnzrNLMD5cbFfTHxvewnG9j_UMgC9nE6etHYGuQNeTxsODOKWYSh9v-7njXKFZBiEljAT5qhPj-R_YNPhB74xvNS/s2048/IMG_5380.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1345" height="796" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXD0y4ZgDYB4cyyO6Y7bDHgntqlIYJ2Kqp08Tt6fIujiQLdnzrNLMD5cbFfTHxvewnG9j_UMgC9nE6etHYGuQNeTxsODOKWYSh9v-7njXKFZBiEljAT5qhPj-R_YNPhB74xvNS/w522-h796/IMG_5380.jpeg" width="522" /></a></span></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQtSGvhR_fWj4PhRStukEZsvDxCqHbifYRFK8kHcB7sM6-OuUxK1A0BAVtYDZK4cIm9dknGnqEDwuhfYKwRBX6OO90m_DV3vGoG-O_1JjiQh52QI3wHjQXricgrKowFiIyvI15/s2048/IMG_5378.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1445" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQtSGvhR_fWj4PhRStukEZsvDxCqHbifYRFK8kHcB7sM6-OuUxK1A0BAVtYDZK4cIm9dknGnqEDwuhfYKwRBX6OO90m_DV3vGoG-O_1JjiQh52QI3wHjQXricgrKowFiIyvI15/w453-h640/IMG_5378.jpeg" width="453" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Journey's End</i> is a noted play by English dramatist, R C Sherriff (Robert Cedric Sherriff, 1896-1975)</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"> set in the trenches near Saint-Quentin, Aisne, France,
towards the end of the First World War. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><span style="font-size: large;"><br />The drama plays out in the officers'
dugout of a British Army infantry company from 18 to 21 March 1918 and giving
an intimate portrait of the lives of a group of soldiers during the last few
days before the onset of the major German military offensive known as Operation
Michael.</span><p></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Incorporated Stage Society on 9 and 10 December 1928
first staged the play, for two nights only. Directed by the then unknown James
Whale (later director of many films including <i>Frankenstein</i> and <i>The Bride of
Frankenstein</i>) and with George Zucco as Lieutenant Osborne and Maurice Evans as 2nd Lieutenant Raleigh and the 21-year-old Laurence Olivier as
Captain Stanhope. </span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">The play moved to the West End first (with Colin Clive
replacing Olivier) at the Savoy Theatre and then at The Prince of Wales where
it had a two-year run. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkRDBJKxb3gpgVeEvJIIh4OH-oepGF0dulrVazU9VLeVKIEUH7gTl2qCjX6w2BsOWkqE8En9to__57URUzkqM58KMA1FoPm8VSr9_-nq_Gskn_iNC5oiMP53er-cbMvvw3roAc/s1574/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+15.13.36.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1284" data-original-width="1574" height="437" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkRDBJKxb3gpgVeEvJIIh4OH-oepGF0dulrVazU9VLeVKIEUH7gTl2qCjX6w2BsOWkqE8En9to__57URUzkqM58KMA1FoPm8VSr9_-nq_Gskn_iNC5oiMP53er-cbMvvw3roAc/w535-h437/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+15.13.36.png" width="535" /></a></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Included in <i>The
Best Plays of 1928–1929</i>, the play quickly became internationally popular,
with numerous productions and tours in English and other languages.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">The first American production production debuted on </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Broadway on</span></span> 22 March 1929 at Henry Miller's Theatre <span>124 West 43rd Street</span>.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxOQpjGaVKbrLbvZmlhsaYPHEuAROAgng5vSmfj44gcWNIwKUzlU_Wg-KhWlMc-ezYDsBtSUVL1f7x3LDeP7gJMiuq0PQJNAfUADLHKIJt7WsB7TEXJGYJTwco4SATu_-Xznp/s2048/Screenshot+2021-01-16+at+15.39.15.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1473" height="728" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxOQpjGaVKbrLbvZmlhsaYPHEuAROAgng5vSmfj44gcWNIwKUzlU_Wg-KhWlMc-ezYDsBtSUVL1f7x3LDeP7gJMiuq0PQJNAfUADLHKIJt7WsB7TEXJGYJTwco4SATu_-Xznp/w523-h728/Screenshot+2021-01-16+at+15.39.15.png" width="523" /></a></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">My copy of the play is the 1929 American edition from Bretano's Publishers and gives cast
of that first New York run.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSDxE6CBAWVJ5rbVm9P1BoiuIFxYuxZvqv4mCGLNJIJKv5qM5N07Ilake5W2Cv1zb42az8s8C8xUr81n8rIPBvAwEv1K2FX8q0ZqOjmUxKElJI8iSWO61WR_xsA7VVn3cItB8V/s2048/IMG_5384.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1321" height="767" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSDxE6CBAWVJ5rbVm9P1BoiuIFxYuxZvqv4mCGLNJIJKv5qM5N07Ilake5W2Cv1zb42az8s8C8xUr81n8rIPBvAwEv1K2FX8q0ZqOjmUxKElJI8iSWO61WR_xsA7VVn3cItB8V/w494-h767/IMG_5384.jpeg" width="494" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">The play was once again directed by James Whale with Colin
Keith-Johnston playing Stanhope and, in the role of </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lieutenant Osborne –</span></span> Leon Quartermaine.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRMd_eB7HdDlNzv1dt0ofJ3azWFYaJmYLDRPTY18MB9CQci2W4tYc1iHSUVRVuyohBSh5jV7gMFsslFmao32tbuhcsezn8WZD3uib0TkEaYHe101NcmOFZE4zfMSb7UDPmGREK/s800/Leon-Quartermaine-as-Lieutenant-Osborne-in-Journeys-End.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="578" height="777" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRMd_eB7HdDlNzv1dt0ofJ3azWFYaJmYLDRPTY18MB9CQci2W4tYc1iHSUVRVuyohBSh5jV7gMFsslFmao32tbuhcsezn8WZD3uib0TkEaYHe101NcmOFZE4zfMSb7UDPmGREK/w561-h777/Leon-Quartermaine-as-Lieutenant-Osborne-in-Journeys-End.jpg" width="561" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #800180;"><span style="font-size: small;">Leon Quartermaine as <span style="font-family: inherit;">Lieutenant Osborne in<i> Journey's End</i></span></span> by Eric Pape<br />lithographic crayon on paper, published 7 July 1929<br />National Portrait Gallery (NPG D48183)</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> </i></span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> <br /></i></span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> </i><br /></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">What makes this copy of the play so particular, is that not
only is it signed by Sherriff on the title-page, but is personally inscribed by
the playwright (as 'Bob Sherriff') on the half-title to Leon Quartermaine...</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidT7sdn-5713pzXX5Ff2nNIvS9lsTRialxWb0kx-Edd7ycVVRZSEOkdaLC3GYcHECus88DNl6SNmnzJ9Xn73MfN6GCY1ZGCacegttwpPw5Uv65DO0UZB2Kp3rJyqgrurtr25nu/s1756/IMG_5385+3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1647" data-original-width="1756" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidT7sdn-5713pzXX5Ff2nNIvS9lsTRialxWb0kx-Edd7ycVVRZSEOkdaLC3GYcHECus88DNl6SNmnzJ9Xn73MfN6GCY1ZGCacegttwpPw5Uv65DO0UZB2Kp3rJyqgrurtr25nu/w529-h496/IMG_5385+3.jpeg" width="529" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /><p></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">In addition to the signatures on the pages of the book itself there is ('loosely inserted', as booksellers put it) a later-purchased autograph of Leon Quartermaine, inscribed “with pleasure”...</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXClZdY9dgiILt71XSZX_84tyKOKFy9iQCpC3h7aqInE1eaRpAJMnj9UziO79E2jkLY8G6TFTB661WF5n-tYD2Q4Wt8bnsryFchL2yMQvNzpqdL0wxmb-0opFZvteOMEM7lTQ/s2048/IMG_5422.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1653" height="728" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXClZdY9dgiILt71XSZX_84tyKOKFy9iQCpC3h7aqInE1eaRpAJMnj9UziO79E2jkLY8G6TFTB661WF5n-tYD2Q4Wt8bnsryFchL2yMQvNzpqdL0wxmb-0opFZvteOMEM7lTQ/w587-h728/IMG_5422.jpeg" width="587" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Leon Quartermaine (1876-1967) was born in Richmond, London
on 24 September 1876 and educated at the Whitgift School in Croydon. </span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">In 1921 Quartermaine appeared with Fay Compton in a West End
revival of J M Barrie's play <i>Quality
Street</i> and the following February Quartermaine and Compton were married,
and remained so until their divorce in 1942.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkAEq870V-OjIrZIMV0fAQARh0WPBtZhrZMFbV9woL3Z6Bh7e3lfXPT5BoXmWNO_eGEnQjfQKt-Z6mp_d9V2jZF9T1hqtp4-x1mCC4CfR07tdJbhpdHgSRZGVGivKSXgsJ9qMQ/s1864/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+12.50.07.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1864" data-original-width="1530" height="533" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkAEq870V-OjIrZIMV0fAQARh0WPBtZhrZMFbV9woL3Z6Bh7e3lfXPT5BoXmWNO_eGEnQjfQKt-Z6mp_d9V2jZF9T1hqtp4-x1mCC4CfR07tdJbhpdHgSRZGVGivKSXgsJ9qMQ/w438-h533/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+12.50.07.png" width="438" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">In addition to his performance as Lieutenant Osborne in the
American premiere of <i>Journey's End</i>
Quartermaine made numerous appearances on Broadway between 1903 and 1935, among
them Laertes (<i>Hamlet</i>, 1904) and
Malvolio (<i>Twelfth Night</i>, 1930).</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Quartermaine appeared in several films during the ‘twenties
and ‘thirties, including <i>As You Like It </i>(1936)
in which he co-starred as Jacques to Laurence Olivier's Orlando. </span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">After the
Second World War, Quartermaine joined the Royal Shakespeare Theatre for the
1949-50 Stratford Festivals, in a company including John Gielgud, Peggy
Ashcroft, Anthony Quayle and other leading Shakespearean actors, appearing in <i>Macbeth</i>, <i>Measure for </i>Measure and <i>Much
Ado About Nothing</i>. In 1951 he played the Inquisitor in a BBC television
adaptation of Shaw's <i>Saint Joan</i>.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Quartermaine died on 25 June 1967, in Salisbury, Wiltshire.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;"></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><style>@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-50144903758329268172021-01-20T09:54:00.004+00:002021-01-22T05:40:36.758+00:00Signed Books: 1 – Mary Poppins and the House Next Door <div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">This is the first of an occasional series of posts in which I'll be sharing details of signed volumes in my book collection.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span><span style="color: black; font-weight: bold;"><span><span style="color: #cc33cc; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;">I start with P L Travers' <i>Mary Poppins and the House Next Door</i>, the last story about the magical nanny.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihisntUFcR_85DRv_pyQ0QsaAzJGs7qWrU4TuVGcf4MsztEn99-LtuxTo_dCW8QJUwiwWR5WMU7PAA6muLO5Z6ZRTXY5uzHAEf0-Okybmy6UQMi4ROLZvzmBLTZ58qcyPw85Y0/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="770" height="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihisntUFcR_85DRv_pyQ0QsaAzJGs7qWrU4TuVGcf4MsztEn99-LtuxTo_dCW8QJUwiwWR5WMU7PAA6muLO5Z6ZRTXY5uzHAEf0-Okybmy6UQMi4ROLZvzmBLTZ58qcyPw85Y0/w600-h800/pTag90VlTG65nVBJ7ZpKXA_thumb_29ddf.jpg" width="600" /></a></div></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQfcqePbILKASObTG5eQ5N-8dPu3zmF-PAZoBYfS-gOYzbYgLgaO5Fe_Ts9IMfLfmnXDAl00GYPtk6VUFnk3QqxOju5ellYE2eyhYksjQQA5BHPHauls9W1-fe4sr4xldFqHLQ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="618" data-original-width="1272" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQfcqePbILKASObTG5eQ5N-8dPu3zmF-PAZoBYfS-gOYzbYgLgaO5Fe_Ts9IMfLfmnXDAl00GYPtk6VUFnk3QqxOju5ellYE2eyhYksjQQA5BHPHauls9W1-fe4sr4xldFqHLQ/w584-h282/UFzGLYsXRROz7YZ1O661Ow_thumb_29de6.jpg" width="584" /></a></div><br />I have a number of books inscribed and signed by Travers, but I've chosen this particular title because it was her last, because she gave it to me when it was first published in 1988 and because, at that time, we were working together for the Walt Disney Studio on <i>Mary Poppins Comes Back</i> a planned (but unrealised) </span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;">sequel </span></span></span>to the Studio's celebrated 1964 Oscar-winning triumph. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;">This also gives me the opportunity to re-post an essay I wrote fifteen years ago about my very first encounter with the woman who gave us the Practically Perfect Mary Poppins...</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #ff00fe;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ff00fe;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>TEA WITH MARY POPPINS</b></span></span><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigWS9qfDinDynbZKDzHqRYa6uCHeGGd2PDuOcuH18cza4Bx2pclGMN0pUQiHgZ6YhUiTt5h4xuAsdshS9Hlmlax20ilAZFgvdxzIWA-k8K0JVWSSpQ4sRff82-YRJl90Cc_p-B/s1088/Screenshot+2021-01-20+at+08.44.39.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="952" data-original-width="1088" height="437" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigWS9qfDinDynbZKDzHqRYa6uCHeGGd2PDuOcuH18cza4Bx2pclGMN0pUQiHgZ6YhUiTt5h4xuAsdshS9Hlmlax20ilAZFgvdxzIWA-k8K0JVWSSpQ4sRff82-YRJl90Cc_p-B/w499-h437/Screenshot+2021-01-20+at+08.44.39.png" width="499" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span></span></span></span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span>
</span><span style="color: black;">I was going to tea with Mary
Poppins! </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: black;">Well, no, not <i>exactly</i>, but I <i>was</i> going to tea with P L
Travers, who had written the <i>Mary Poppins</i> books; and, at that precise
moment, I was walking down a street of neat-and-tidy-looking houses that
reminded me very much of Cherry Tree Lane…<br />
<br />
True, Shawfield Street – off the King's Road in London’s Chelsea – didn’t boast
any really grand houses (with two gates) like that owned by Miss Lark and none
of them were quite as unusual or as exciting as the ship-shape home of Admiral
Boom… But, as I arrived at the door of number 29, I felt as if I might expect
to find Robertson Ay asleep on the doorstep or hear the argumentative voices of
Mrs Brill and Ellen coming up from the basement.<br />
<br />
This all happened over twenty years ago, but I remember it now as vividly as if
it were only yesterday…<br />
<br />
I'd been invited to come to tea at four o'clock and I was a little early – <i>ten
minutes early</i> to be precise – because I really didn't want to be late and
keep Mary Poppins waiting...<br />
<br />
I went up the steps to the front door – which, rather surprisingly, was painted
candyfloss pink – and I rang the bell.<br />
<br />
<i>Silence.</i><br />
<br />
I rang again.<br />
<br />
<i>Still silence. </i><br />
<br />
Had I got the wrong day, I wondered.<br />
<br />
Then a window, two storeys up, flew open and a head popped out and asked, in a
brisk tone: "Are you Brian Sibley?"<br />
<br />
I said that I was.<br />
<br />
"Well," said the head, "you are <i>early!</i>" And the window
rattled shut again.<br />
<br />
I waited. And I waited. For the full ten minutes I waited – until the clock on
a nearby church struck 'four'. Only then did a woman with curly grey hair and
bright forget-me-not-blue eyes open the door.<br />
<br />
So, this was P (for Pamela) L (for Lyndon) Travers…</span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: black;"> <br /></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRE_crePtgCNvOOH3hLsSY37qS-HxlQB1MIzp_qEeD0GmFzBx-U955RgVGEdnwEMrgoD5Lic7m09TtK7QbdaeJVWGtDJigf-OGBnb5_Q0joe8VIQB9Mq7xfOvz9_rA9KvIn15U/s1492/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+04.46.40.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="874" data-original-width="1492" height="334" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRE_crePtgCNvOOH3hLsSY37qS-HxlQB1MIzp_qEeD0GmFzBx-U955RgVGEdnwEMrgoD5Lic7m09TtK7QbdaeJVWGtDJigf-OGBnb5_Q0joe8VIQB9Mq7xfOvz9_rA9KvIn15U/w571-h334/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+04.46.40.png" width="571" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span></span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: black;">I noticed that she was wearing a
pair of 'sensible shoes' of the kind Mary Poppins wore; but, in contrast, she
sported a very <i>un-</i>Poppinsish dress with lots of frills and flounces, a
number of jingly-jangly bracelets and bangles (rather like those favoured by
Miss Lark, I thought) and a chunky turquoise necklace.<br />
<br />
After my wait on the doorstep, I was a little nervous, but she welcomed me in
with a smile, threw my coat over the back of a noble rocking-horse who galloped
up the hallway and showed me into the room where, many times afterwards, I
would come to have tea and talk with the woman who introduced the world to Mary
Poppins.<br />
<br />
When Jane and Michael Banks once asked Mary Poppins who she would choose to be
if she wasn't Mary Poppins, she replied, in her sharp, non-nonsense tone: <i>"Mary
Poppins."</i> It is a typical Poppins response: supremely confident, yet –
at the same time – as mysterious and elusive as the place where a rainbow ends…<br />
<br />
And, sometimes, P L Travers could be much the same. For one thing, that was not
her <i>real </i>name: when she was born, in Australia in 1899, she was called
Helen Lyndon Goff. </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span></span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: black;">Then, as a young woman she became
an actress and a dancer and took 'Pamela' for a stage name (because she thought
it sounded pretty and "actressy"), followed by 'Lyndon' (her own
second name and a reminder that her ancestors came from Ireland, the land of myths
and stories) and, finally, 'Travers' which was her father’s first name. </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: black;">Travers Goff had
died when Pamela was seven-years-old and she never forgot how much she had loved
and missed him. Mr Banks in the stories is, in some respects perhaps, owes something to her father and,
although Pamela used to tell people that he was a sugar-planter in Australia, in
truth at the time that she was born Goff was working in a bank – just like Jane
and Michael’s father.<br />
<br />
It was never easy to get factual detail from Pamela and she was especially enigmatic is asked about the creative processes behind her book. She would get especially irritated if you asked about how she came to 'create' Mary
Poppins. firmly making it clear that she had 'discovered' rather than 'invented' the character – but, as with so many things in Pamela’s life, you never quite knew…
</span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span></span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOEvsj188gxIoJSOTFQrXB4akLksxIRziyHEWE3J2r4XF2kms6N5-iLmekRpMap0kijdzmqE1EKj5Bad8gtSoJKkODl5sjbpient4fay5-aWkDomsSsswkabNAT27zQxQhlhhE/s1910/Screenshot+2021-01-20+at+09.14.56.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1910" data-original-width="1562" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOEvsj188gxIoJSOTFQrXB4akLksxIRziyHEWE3J2r4XF2kms6N5-iLmekRpMap0kijdzmqE1EKj5Bad8gtSoJKkODl5sjbpient4fay5-aWkDomsSsswkabNAT27zQxQhlhhE/w524-h640/Screenshot+2021-01-20+at+09.14.56.png" width="524" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span></span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: black;">She told me, for instance, that
Mary Poppins had first blown into her imagination – rather as she blows into
the lives of the Banks family – when she was recovering from an illness in an
old country cottage in Sussex. She said that somewhere – in that strange state
between being ill and getting better – the idea of a person like Mary Poppins
had come to her. </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">The truth is that,
several years earlier, she had written a short story entitled 'Mary Poppins and
the Match Man' that was published in a New Zealand newspaper and this story was, in fact, an
early version of the second chapter of <i>Mary Poppins</i> in which Bert
accompanies her on her 'Day Out' and they enjoy a wonderful tea with heaps of
raspberry jam-cakes! </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs2Z08UGx9OORDLnIYbTqiRS0_svjI-q19czNDU55k1uwQ7F8k81UNUMZ-XE6H-IpZz_EkCVptRxSfeEcECRt_7cW0SCv6unituTKV6pbAOHjTwsQQ18xJ8x_JdAxVDcdctRZn/s1136/Screenshot+2021-01-20+at+09.19.56.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="1136" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs2Z08UGx9OORDLnIYbTqiRS0_svjI-q19czNDU55k1uwQ7F8k81UNUMZ-XE6H-IpZz_EkCVptRxSfeEcECRt_7cW0SCv6unituTKV6pbAOHjTwsQQ18xJ8x_JdAxVDcdctRZn/w562-h352/Screenshot+2021-01-20+at+09.19.56.png" width="562" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">What is certain is that, during that illness, she came up with ideas for new stories about the character and wrote them down. <i>Mary Poppins</i>, was
published in 1934, with illustrations by Mary Shepard, the daughter of the man
who had drawn Winnie-the-Pooh. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzB9SoTViXXXtoR9YYWPFe7lxeLaX-E9XA1M3Mul56rXYbAmywfw78rn9hMRLYJeEEIXrVR05F9k_OHluXp0RiwaGHX81rvp5j_fqQ12iXN-Haxtp6CVPYgrWOVpAC8gGCy2BJ/s1304/Screenshot+2021-01-20+at+09.30.42.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1304" data-original-width="944" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzB9SoTViXXXtoR9YYWPFe7lxeLaX-E9XA1M3Mul56rXYbAmywfw78rn9hMRLYJeEEIXrVR05F9k_OHluXp0RiwaGHX81rvp5j_fqQ12iXN-Haxtp6CVPYgrWOVpAC8gGCy2BJ/w464-h640/Screenshot+2021-01-20+at+09.30.42.png" width="464" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">The following year, she wrote her second book, <i>Mary
Poppins Comes Back</i>, and, after a nine-year gap, the third book in the
series appeared. Pamela had wanted to call it <i>Good-bye, Mary Poppins</i>,
but eventually – after her publisher begged her not to be quite so final – it
was renamed <i>Mary Poppins Opens the Door</i>.<br />
<br />
And, as it happens, it <i>wasn't</i> goodbye to Mary Poppins because, eight
years later, she wrote <i>Mary Poppins in the Park</i> following which the practically
perfect nanny reappeared in various spin-offs including an alphabet book <i>Mary
Poppins from A to Z</i> (which, for some reason, was subsequently translated into
Latin) and a book of stories and recipes entitled <i>Mary Poppins in the
Kitchen</i>. Late in life, the author wrote two more slim volumes: <i>Mary
Poppins in Cherry Tree Lane</i> and, finally in 1988, <i>Mary Poppins and the
House Next Door</i>.</span><span> <br />
<br />
"If you are looking for autobiographical facts," P L Travers once
wrote, "<i>Mary Poppins</i> is the story of my life." This seems an
unlikely claim when you think that Mary Poppins goes inside a chalk pavement
picture, slides <i>up</i> banisters, arranges tea-parties on the ceiling and
has a carpet bag which is both empty and yet contains everything.<br />
<br />
But if we take her at her word, we can find many things in her books that
spring from her own life and shaped the stories she told…<br />
<br />
For example, several of her fictional characters have names borrowed from
people Pamela had known in her childhood - among them a strange little old
woman with two tall daughters who ran the local general store where the young
Pamela bought sweets. <i>Her</i> name, of course, was – as it is in the stories
– Mrs Corry.<br />
<br />
As for Miss Poppins herself, her first name was probably inspired by the
younger of Pamela’s two sisters who was known in the family as 'Moya' – the
Irish version of ‘Mary’.<br />
<br />
As for 'Poppins'… Well, Pamela never gave any clues as to where that name came
from. But when she first arrived in London to work as a journalist, she used an
office near Fleet Street and on her way to visit nearby St Paul's Cathedral –
home to the Bird Woman – she would have passed a little lane with the curious
name, 'Poppins Court'.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqpnMdx1aw-NuqjSXz-cqGJqk31k-lEHsrKt3mQsQdemj2DxUJ19laCNtWS_ajYcmNTh5oXaao1ak9WOAiJSeU-xD7Az-AT2CPoZ7Fnr4bKPMe3wYCoCd9uEP6i2Iso_Hq48IK/s2024/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+05.08.16.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="616" data-original-width="2024" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqpnMdx1aw-NuqjSXz-cqGJqk31k-lEHsrKt3mQsQdemj2DxUJ19laCNtWS_ajYcmNTh5oXaao1ak9WOAiJSeU-xD7Az-AT2CPoZ7Fnr4bKPMe3wYCoCd9uEP6i2Iso_Hq48IK/w585-h177/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+05.08.16.png" width="585" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Unlike
today's street signs, early London gazetteers did not include the apostrophe
and 'Poppins Court' was once the site of a 14th Century inn called 'The
Poppinjay' that was owned by the Abbots of Cirencester and had an inn-sign
displaying the Abbey's crest: a parrot-like bird.<br />
<br />
And while we're talking parrots...<br />
<br />
</span><span>Although she
and her sisters never had a Mary Poppins for a nanny, they did have an Irish
maid named Bertha –– or maybe she was called Bella, Pamela pretended she could
never quite remember! Bella (or Bertha) was a marvellous character with almost
as many eccentric relatives as Mary Poppins.<br />
<br />
What’s more, Bertha <i>– or Bella – </i>possessed something that was her pride and
joy: a parrot-headed umbrella. "Whenever she was going out," Pamela
once told me, "the umbrella would be carefully taken out of tissue-paper
and off she would go, looking terribly stylish. But, as soon as she came back,
the umbrella would be wrapped up in tissue-paper once more."<br />
<br />
You will remember that Mary Poppins always carried her umbrella, regardless of
the weather, simply because it was too beautiful <i>not</i> to be carried.
"How could you leave your umbrella behind," asks the author, "if
it had a parrot’s head for a handle?"</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_V3edE3n00mJ7HQpo1X4TipB2509VNPZ6SC1bziHG_T5Y23dG1cNsji6Ic1ip15au5OsNSSaccncJyMa4Byk3NlL1GyKhahLgC8D6bfs4RgfihDLj0lqPbnrqxXoLXBOdnGXC/s1044/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+05.11.48.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1044" data-original-width="1038" height="479" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_V3edE3n00mJ7HQpo1X4TipB2509VNPZ6SC1bziHG_T5Y23dG1cNsji6Ic1ip15au5OsNSSaccncJyMa4Byk3NlL1GyKhahLgC8D6bfs4RgfihDLj0lqPbnrqxXoLXBOdnGXC/w477-h479/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+05.11.48.png" width="477" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> <i> </i></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><i>"Spit-spot into bed,"</i> was a favourite phrase of her mother's,
and other bits of Mary Poppins' character were clearly inspired by Pamela's
spinster aunt, Christina Saraset, whom everybody called 'Aunt Sass'. She was a
crisp, no-nonsense woman with a sharp tongue and a heart of gold who, like Mary
Poppins, was given to making "a curious convulsion in her nose that was
something between a snort and a sniff."<br />
<br />
When Pamela once suggested to her aunt that she might write about her, the
elderly lady replied: "<i>What!</i> You put me in a book! I trust you will
never so far forget yourself as to do anything so vulgarly disgusting!"
This indignant response was, apparently, followed up with a contemptuous, <i>"Sniff,
sniff!"</i> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Now, doesn't that sound just like Mary Poppins? Certainly I can report that P L Travers herself said something along the same lines
to me, when I rashly suggested, one day, that I might write <i>her</i> life-story!<br />
<br />
As a young girl, Pamela took dancing lessons and there seems to be dancing, of
some kind or other, in every one of the books: remember Mary Poppins joining
all the birds and beasts at the zoo in dancing the Grand Chain? Or the Red Cow
who catches a falling star on her horn and can't stop dancing?</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZsEYF1XF27Qcc5P0TBauMgv6YFKDaoR7Qj8f48OFWIDTzFr0m1H2hMmsUkoRBxDtapzYMNQxKWEEC-CPmuincnRwJdYjzPJqaVOcQfkG2KdxCusKZOjMwyjFdFNRIbphh_5_i/s1462/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+05.24.02.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1462" data-original-width="1260" height="580" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZsEYF1XF27Qcc5P0TBauMgv6YFKDaoR7Qj8f48OFWIDTzFr0m1H2hMmsUkoRBxDtapzYMNQxKWEEC-CPmuincnRwJdYjzPJqaVOcQfkG2KdxCusKZOjMwyjFdFNRIbphh_5_i/w500-h580/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+05.24.02.png" width="500" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span>And,
speaking of stars, reminds me that, as a child, Pamela had been captivated by the
beauty of the constellations she saw in the clear southern skies above her home
in the Australian outback. She never lost her fascination with star-gazing and there are stars scattered
throughout the pages of all her books. In one story, </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Maia (one of the stars in the constellation Pleiades),
comes down to earth to do her Christmas shopping; </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>in another, </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Mrs Corry, her two
gargantuan daughters and Mary Poppins paste Gingerbread Stars on to the night
sky.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4S4-Xff892o650P-669A2B9UmsqWlE0s6Hb6eUm-plZGDKWnlcV_piJmKIVXR_KMB3k1iGCdawSOw2ccIezsaPV3o05AydPIgpLBUp9JwD1Qg4gUnxZT2WwEUlXddZejIeeoV/s1926/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+05.12.56.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1926" data-original-width="1282" height="748" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4S4-Xff892o650P-669A2B9UmsqWlE0s6Hb6eUm-plZGDKWnlcV_piJmKIVXR_KMB3k1iGCdawSOw2ccIezsaPV3o05AydPIgpLBUp9JwD1Qg4gUnxZT2WwEUlXddZejIeeoV/w498-h748/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+05.12.56.png" width="498" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> <br />
Over the years I knew Pamela, we had many conversations but the one I
remember most clearly took place not long before she died at the grand age of
96 and it was also about a star.<br />
<br />
I had asked her if she thought perhaps another story – maybe one last tale
about Mary Poppins – might come to her. "I think it might," she
replied slowly, "because, the other day, on the street outside, I found a
star on the pavement!"<br />
<br />
"A <i>star</i>?" I repeated, with surprise.<br />
<br />
"Yes," she said softly, "a star. Go and look for it yourself. I
hope I shall find out where it came from and what it is doing there."<br />
<br />
It was dusk when I let myself out of the candy-pink door of 29 Shawfield Street
that particular afternoon and headed off to look for that star. Light was
failing, but I found it, at last: just as Pamela had said – a star-shape,
faintly but clearly marked in the surface of a paving stone.<br />
<br />
<span>A puzzled
passer-by looked quizzically at the man staring intently at what looked like a
very ordinary piece of pavement. </span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Doubtless it was some rouge imprint on the surface from the manufacturing of the cement paving-stone, but I was remembering the words of the old
snake, the Hamadryad, on that night of the full moon when Mary Poppins took
Jane and Michael to the zoo:</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>"We are all made of the same stuff... The tree
overhead, the stone beneath us, the bird, the beast, the star - we are all one,
all moving to the same end..."</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJkvmU9biWLGgQlgx-1P_Q8PcuJxuwfbRuVG-JGpBuJ3ZyufGWR6zGzw9SNQNm6y3e928jst02iO_g4AzKuKx8zyqe78hQTp-m9PndBHy37KwTOnsEM3X7I1UgRed8ju5rT97J/s1484/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+05.31.57.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="1368" height="531" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJkvmU9biWLGgQlgx-1P_Q8PcuJxuwfbRuVG-JGpBuJ3ZyufGWR6zGzw9SNQNm6y3e928jst02iO_g4AzKuKx8zyqe78hQTp-m9PndBHy37KwTOnsEM3X7I1UgRed8ju5rT97J/w490-h531/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+05.31.57.png" width="490" /></a></i></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><p></p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Like Mary
Poppins, P L Travers saw – and gave <i>others</i> the ability to see – the
magical in very ordinary and everyday things.</span><br /><p class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
She had discovered something as rare and amazing as a star in a London street
and, then, she had given it away...<br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
I hope she found out why it was there…<br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
Of course, Mary Poppins would have the answer, but, as you know, <i>she</i>
would never, never tell...</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFz3Ljp1vjGd1O0ng8FcqJ6szMrByv60Gz6yJ_gaAosCn0e9_jybgUUBJbwYqnKy0KRon9PNz4r14qSlAAo4YSzMkrcjqIsMaYtVVYjzbOTnf_knH3j0s3kuFEXMHg_HQCMpNr/s2040/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+05.09.25.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="1620" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFz3Ljp1vjGd1O0ng8FcqJ6szMrByv60Gz6yJ_gaAosCn0e9_jybgUUBJbwYqnKy0KRon9PNz4r14qSlAAo4YSzMkrcjqIsMaYtVVYjzbOTnf_knH3j0s3kuFEXMHg_HQCMpNr/w508-h640/Screenshot+2021-01-22+at+05.09.25.png" width="508" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">© Brian Sibley, 2006, 2021</span></p><div class="_1JiDd"><h1 class="_2p6cd ACglf _1H4oq" data-hook="deviation_title"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Illustration: Mary Poppins and the Hamadryad by Culpeo-Fox; all other illustrations by Mary Shepard</span><span class="_2zFM8"> </span></span></span>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></span></span></span></h1></div></div>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-39288886543641919222017-12-18T19:36:00.001+00:002017-12-18T19:37:41.061+00:00CHRISTMAS GREETINGS FROM MR TOAD & CO.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHBnyHSnK1ZUE9Fdm6OaWz4jLne1bRLOBZH1iKNxJM28680i3cxEaSjdqcELIbRhKgijRMUQBzxql-RJWeHtliKmyrciyEKBZbFptUyaKc5l9yDj2Jep9yDQtN2f05VgWAk8JJ/s1600/Shepard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1072" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHBnyHSnK1ZUE9Fdm6OaWz4jLne1bRLOBZH1iKNxJM28680i3cxEaSjdqcELIbRhKgijRMUQBzxql-RJWeHtliKmyrciyEKBZbFptUyaKc5l9yDj2Jep9yDQtN2f05VgWAk8JJ/s640/Shepard.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
<br />Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-88242406677636823812013-12-25T00:00:00.000+00:002013-12-25T00:00:00.876+00:00"GOD BLESS US EVERYONE!"<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>HAPPY CHRISTMAS!</b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0peJMTptx-eYJJNHE4uWf1pyMwHDO0YtnuD-5kpFhwcLIEYmuAW6XWs_TNbUHjHTo5tiFDjuGzweU3v2fJeEBWhPfYWBCC_qfR0hHoK_NVZI4wd-rU51ZCetck18auWEyqT9U/s1600/P1320691.JPG.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0peJMTptx-eYJJNHE4uWf1pyMwHDO0YtnuD-5kpFhwcLIEYmuAW6XWs_TNbUHjHTo5tiFDjuGzweU3v2fJeEBWhPfYWBCC_qfR0hHoK_NVZI4wd-rU51ZCetck18auWEyqT9U/s400/P1320691.JPG.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-40914989539373480002013-10-31T12:45:00.000+00:002013-10-31T12:45:26.298+00:00A LEAF FROM THE HALLOWEEN TREEHere's a fantastical print by Joe Mugnaini's illustrating Ray Bradbury's wonderful book <i><a href="http://briansibley-exlibris.blogspot.co.uk/2006/11/halloween-tree.html">The Halloween Tree</a><b></b></i>...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPzEiwPpb6xMnWjFms_s0JVcZAfUUU57lZbh1Wnj_iKME34oW6rpG8DTXeFByBxbFZol8jHCbFUpyr5p9rXBUnP6koej_XHy5wWf_wTHTE3jNGGqoraiVgkZuwb3CDyBt1skPw/s1600/Halloween---from-the-portfolio-Ten-Views-of-the-Moon-authored-by-Ray-Bradbury-by-Joseph-Anthony-Mugnaini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="407" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPzEiwPpb6xMnWjFms_s0JVcZAfUUU57lZbh1Wnj_iKME34oW6rpG8DTXeFByBxbFZol8jHCbFUpyr5p9rXBUnP6koej_XHy5wWf_wTHTE3jNGGqoraiVgkZuwb3CDyBt1skPw/s400/Halloween---from-the-portfolio-Ten-Views-of-the-Moon-authored-by-Ray-Bradbury-by-Joseph-Anthony-Mugnaini.jpg" width="470" /></a></div>
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Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-48890745038440760312013-10-14T00:00:00.000+01:002013-10-14T00:00:01.859+01:00BEAR WITH ME<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">HAPPY 87th BIRTHDAY</span></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">to WINNIE-the-POOH!</span></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi37qS-aH6lfgea5LpMG-5MirLU7s-_1GTMBbu1Fl-W_b0qm1mMIc1P2DE3R0GFdNClRDu2geoNeZOaNcmJkYUHC88I6PxfNseUa8tmZXUn1xEnP6zrvIze5rAZcKUPIa9vNcxT/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-10-13+at+08.59.33.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi37qS-aH6lfgea5LpMG-5MirLU7s-_1GTMBbu1Fl-W_b0qm1mMIc1P2DE3R0GFdNClRDu2geoNeZOaNcmJkYUHC88I6PxfNseUa8tmZXUn1xEnP6zrvIze5rAZcKUPIa9vNcxT/s640/Screen+Shot+2013-10-13+at+08.59.33.png" width="483" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></b></span></div>
Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-24386022798360354842013-02-14T00:00:00.000+00:002013-02-14T00:00:01.178+00:00THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOVE According to <b>Aristotle</b>...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6MT6BFswfwXDyb9aZeESb-btehkyO9ZLqycBUX-Ikc0vqt508FyRphMR3a9PJcyui4UQA-k6O5g9YFaw1Olz3_Ki2pKSHJQifCWE5EdAPeUoSx7mkrZU5oCyIt0sap-c5ywTv/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-02-08+at+17.11.37.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6MT6BFswfwXDyb9aZeESb-btehkyO9ZLqycBUX-Ikc0vqt508FyRphMR3a9PJcyui4UQA-k6O5g9YFaw1Olz3_Ki2pKSHJQifCWE5EdAPeUoSx7mkrZU5oCyIt0sap-c5ywTv/s320/Screen+Shot+2013-02-08+at+17.11.37.png" width="280" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">LOVE is composed of a single soul</span></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">inhabiting two bodies </span></b></span></div>
<br />
<br />
Alternatively, it's a big one of these...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtjRPiRgAj_Lsg-n_HCpgKn_1uNdHLpsGmjyCGr2n2p4Iu-mGgm1OTBNrdPnmq916LbQnQUGs1dC6VZAikN2H9QzGOos1l4ovEINmNw9Jol-iJP5RlUcCHXXmxbABVT22i2WnB/s1600/valentines-chocolate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtjRPiRgAj_Lsg-n_HCpgKn_1uNdHLpsGmjyCGr2n2p4Iu-mGgm1OTBNrdPnmq916LbQnQUGs1dC6VZAikN2H9QzGOos1l4ovEINmNw9Jol-iJP5RlUcCHXXmxbABVT22i2WnB/s400/valentines-chocolate.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Aristotle by <a href="http://www.wendelljohnson.com/caricatures.htm" target="_blank"><b>Wendell B Johnson </b></a></span><br />
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Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-72794922601623102752013-02-02T11:16:00.000+00:002013-02-02T11:16:06.967+00:00HEART ATTACK!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUbvjka7mFz0rQhB0AuPkEWr1El7XU-Nti3mdWkf4MjpZ3jl97Rm9Ob_Tl9rS1137_iMxQIU99BQtHUtTUL6kWdNEJU0O31N9R9xkjJ_Hwwg1vQhAGvl34lZ5VxV-HrWejxtr8/s1600/edgar_allen_poe_by_hugomaster5-d4dc1mh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUbvjka7mFz0rQhB0AuPkEWr1El7XU-Nti3mdWkf4MjpZ3jl97Rm9Ob_Tl9rS1137_iMxQIU99BQtHUtTUL6kWdNEJU0O31N9R9xkjJ_Hwwg1vQhAGvl34lZ5VxV-HrWejxtr8/s320/edgar_allen_poe_by_hugomaster5-d4dc1mh.jpg" width="244" /></a></div>
A zillion years ago when I was at school, I played the police inspector in a stage version of Edgar Allan Poe's classic short story <i>The Tell-Tale Heart</i>.<br />
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As a kid with a highly developed sense of morbidity, I adored Poe (along with many of his later, less sophisticated, imitators) and enjoyed the thrill of scaring myself silly by reading such tales of horror and terror late into the night! After reading Poe's <i>The Premature Burial</i>, I left a note by my bed, telling my parents, in the event of my death, to get at least <i>three</i> doctors to verify my decease before committing me to the sod!<br />
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I recently heard from Garrett DeHart, a talented young filmmaker that he had made a short film that took a new twist on Poe's <i>The Tell-Tale Heart</i>. Entitled, <i>If I am Your Mirror</i>, it is dark and brooding and filled with bloody violence (warning over for the faint of heart!) but a superbly accomplished piece of filmmaking from someone from whom I confidently expect to hear more.<br />
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<i>If I Am Your Mirror</i> is Garrett DeHart's graduate thesis film. He filmed the actors in a chromakey studio and developed an animation technique to simulate an animated oil painting. He did all the post production himself over a two-year period and the film was produced with a budget under $5000!</div>
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Click to find out more about <span style="color: red;"><b><a href="http://garrettdehart.com/" target="_blank">Garrett DeHart</a></b></span></div>
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Image: Mr Poe by <a href="http://hugomaster5.deviantart.com/gallery/" target="_blank"><b>Hugomaster</b></a></div>
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Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-60106697702651447492013-01-01T00:00:00.001+00:002013-01-01T00:00:00.736+00:00RING IN THE NEW!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nDKTMfif1MZjoji1FLBsBn4favoLqAAjwMn-O2Dxjj1oa4HNMjWTywZz4l3tHl_ZRtuZQZTgdubrhGaLACcrrxKWZTy3-tGoQzzkL6fgkc5viABztLzbx1SaTmBTS34kSYNE/s1600/13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nDKTMfif1MZjoji1FLBsBn4favoLqAAjwMn-O2Dxjj1oa4HNMjWTywZz4l3tHl_ZRtuZQZTgdubrhGaLACcrrxKWZTy3-tGoQzzkL6fgkc5viABztLzbx1SaTmBTS34kSYNE/s640/13.jpg" width="402" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">"...So may the New Year be a happy one to you, happy to many more whose happiness depends on you! So may each year be happier than the last, and not the meanest of our brethren or sisterhood debarred their rightful share, in what our great Creator formed them to enjoy!"</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>Charles Dickens </b>–<b> <i>The Chimes</i></b></span> (1843)</div>
Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-84941096720867298982012-11-29T11:30:00.001+00:002012-11-29T11:35:26.171+00:00THE FIRST NARNIAN Today is the birth-date of C. S Lewis...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcJx9gFFNg-Dcp94G9szRjbi8TvwYgJMOjbN2w1UO-I8NM1Sjjrwyvs_WI_JyadLTslHAijVI8tLUQx9UwUoRZ6miYaBuwmxaOlTEypu8cmgeV2uerCAJ_uj2M6_iZLFkHXC0/s1600/time_cslewis_cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhcJx9gFFNg-Dcp94G9szRjbi8TvwYgJMOjbN2w1UO-I8NM1Sjjrwyvs_WI_JyadLTslHAijVI8tLUQx9UwUoRZ6miYaBuwmxaOlTEypu8cmgeV2uerCAJ_uj2M6_iZLFkHXC0/s640/time_cslewis_cover.jpg" width="484" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: purple;">"Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see."</span></blockquote>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEcs4NjaklYFd-8TLmDGaLYSE3AlKWzgUSsZmyjSqbEs4uAUGlpmihMSllCxvIYeo5-Gbn6LEk3txzn1CsbN-K2F8nxLYD1aXdf6uvQvHkhjHgfXDSLjeaFjAsRBvAYL6M5N8C/s1600/LWW+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEcs4NjaklYFd-8TLmDGaLYSE3AlKWzgUSsZmyjSqbEs4uAUGlpmihMSllCxvIYeo5-Gbn6LEk3txzn1CsbN-K2F8nxLYD1aXdf6uvQvHkhjHgfXDSLjeaFjAsRBvAYL6M5N8C/s400/LWW+5.jpg" width="484" /></a></div>
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Images: <i>Time</i> magazine cover, 8 September 1947, by <span class="st">Boris Artzybasheff </span> <br />
Painting of Narnia by Pauline Baynes<br />
<br />Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-15954692546856363232012-09-28T18:41:00.001+01:002012-10-06T10:51:51.566+01:00CURD THE LION<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj01g-9ccFCLPuxMcoaJcL665X_OQVa7K9XrW3gqhZjlkfjzEQ6PjIMIVarVCJjipqGLk4cuY86EVMSTLu8ook8JQAtn3cwhZN5TFgyVkPINE1d1OO5rTXSsN_6_In3vUEjBmSn/s1600/url-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj01g-9ccFCLPuxMcoaJcL665X_OQVa7K9XrW3gqhZjlkfjzEQ6PjIMIVarVCJjipqGLk4cuY86EVMSTLu8ook8JQAtn3cwhZN5TFgyVkPINE1d1OO5rTXSsN_6_In3vUEjBmSn/s1600/url-1.jpg" /></a><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Amazing-Adventures-Curd-Lion-Beyond/dp/0955548616"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></a><br />
For some time now, I have been meaning to blog about <b>Alan Gilliland</b>'s delightful book for children (their parents and the young at heart in general) <b><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Amazing-Adventures-Curd-Lion-Beyond/dp/0955548616" target="_blank">The Amazing Adventures of Curd the Lion (and Us!) in the Land at the Back of Beyond</a></b>.<br />
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It is a heady mix of the tried and trusted format featuring nursery-toys-come-to-life with riddling, punning, nonsense in the style of Lewis Carroll and Edward Lear punctuating a twisting, turning roller-coaster adventure story
filled with dangers, outlandish encounters and weird and wonderful beings.<br />
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It all begins when the Great Raven steals a precious brooch belonging to the mother of twins
Henry and Henrietta who get the blame and (worse) are told that, unless the brooch is
returned, their imminent birthday party will be cancelled and their four beloved 'animals' will be unceremoniously <i>en route</i> to the local charity shop. Oh, the callousness of parents in literature – and life!<br />
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The motley quartet: Curd the Lion (named, obviously for the heroic Richard I), Pilgrim Crow, O'Flattery the Snake and a hyena named Sweeney the Heenie set out at once for the Back of Beyond to find the Great Raven and the recover the purloined brooch .<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVY4r1M4bco_YPwzo7Oe7spHtnD1kmYZu1TUljr8bCr9SmjTvk-L_v0tM1kGf6Rezs8vxp83JZBkN4kWdEuE-NKq0_xDZVIPoYl6NaeiH__B2aJsiBD2g6BqJTa4_lH0BmyG_N/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-04-30+at+08.34.27.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVY4r1M4bco_YPwzo7Oe7spHtnD1kmYZu1TUljr8bCr9SmjTvk-L_v0tM1kGf6Rezs8vxp83JZBkN4kWdEuE-NKq0_xDZVIPoYl6NaeiH__B2aJsiBD2g6BqJTa4_lH0BmyG_N/s200/Screen+Shot+2012-04-30+at+08.34.27.png" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyPKmkMqxJBVrPbZVEBDrLumotYQLC5vpWPwuJQkU37evQn8gjNZmqCT7rfz6jjZEpORKDpMJi-C3-RYbOLSN0gR6Yg8N9yWiQ6jhTx-P0MihKrim7WZDq-mnqtftdq0V-0WW/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-04-30+at+08.38.20.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyPKmkMqxJBVrPbZVEBDrLumotYQLC5vpWPwuJQkU37evQn8gjNZmqCT7rfz6jjZEpORKDpMJi-C3-RYbOLSN0gR6Yg8N9yWiQ6jhTx-P0MihKrim7WZDq-mnqtftdq0V-0WW/s200/Screen+Shot+2012-04-30+at+08.38.20.png" width="192" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0aO4l7y4jOjhiN3B4UzAKMTrQlVOBfYi-rF7zC9oie1z7HptTe78xz8VtAXpvOKkhWm_phSVm8FYgKeTSx6lyXtAwep2tafYIxRXkuO7HoLtM6g4RAzAsTw845s7FhrYjMU_/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-04-30+at+08.37.18.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0aO4l7y4jOjhiN3B4UzAKMTrQlVOBfYi-rF7zC9oie1z7HptTe78xz8VtAXpvOKkhWm_phSVm8FYgKeTSx6lyXtAwep2tafYIxRXkuO7HoLtM6g4RAzAsTw845s7FhrYjMU_/s200/Screen+Shot+2012-04-30+at+08.37.18.png" width="190" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyWPB7Hgin3CrgVU1szui2aprw_cr3CVfDKzsnvvitJX_MiXEEIkQ3rBC3mWxlCoupCjOfKlpzZtYt2h2dsqJBX7uhjh7dG7ftoM8xRWKKDQZKRcoBGtYmUxMS-28Gk3lu2iV/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-04-30+at+08.35.43.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpyWPB7Hgin3CrgVU1szui2aprw_cr3CVfDKzsnvvitJX_MiXEEIkQ3rBC3mWxlCoupCjOfKlpzZtYt2h2dsqJBX7uhjh7dG7ftoM8xRWKKDQZKRcoBGtYmUxMS-28Gk3lu2iV/s200/Screen+Shot+2012-04-30+at+08.35.43.png" width="188" /></a></div>
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Along the way they are helped or hindered by a cavalcade of memorable characters, among them Professor Balloonafuss (who, like the Great and Terrible Oz, has an over-inflated sense of his own importance), His Majesty
King Much of a Muchness, the mine-goblins, Nook and Cranny, Queen Mumbie-Bumbee, the Minorbore and
Sir Rush and his Kalandar.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_E7nzMjYi5uG4V_m1tOzOkLy9W7WO2ygGQwEjE3_qXLb0-lycCymlujMyT-8J3F_triwS3EmRSibvsFNJkddylWiVBt0LIrvjzSEZ9M3Sa1KWLXdI8A1p3s1ImIC_ER-zDrm/s1600/url-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_E7nzMjYi5uG4V_m1tOzOkLy9W7WO2ygGQwEjE3_qXLb0-lycCymlujMyT-8J3F_triwS3EmRSibvsFNJkddylWiVBt0LIrvjzSEZ9M3Sa1KWLXdI8A1p3s1ImIC_ER-zDrm/s400/url-2.jpg" width="450" /></a></div>
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Eventually they succeed in reaching the Rocks of
Brimstone and the out-jutting Corbie-stone, lair of the Great Raven,
where friends and foes come together as the story reaches its dramatic
climax.<br />
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There are a mass of subtexts and literary and historical allusions within the story (it is not accidental, for example, that the creature encountered named the 'Dodongs' is an anagram of that Carrollian <i>alter ego</i>, 'Dodgson') and readers armed with the map below can trace the route of Curd & Co's adventures in the real location of Brimham Rocks in the Yorkshire Dales.<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br />
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With delightful illustrations by the author, this a perfect read-aloud book for bedtime readers – <i>and their listeners!</i><br />
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Visit <b><a href="http://alangilliland.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Alan Gilliland's website</a></b> for more information about this and his other books. And you can read many more glowing reviews of this unique and wonderfully quirky book on <b><a href="http://www.lovereading4kids.co.uk/book/3991" target="_blank">Lovereading4kids</a></b>.<br />
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Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-54974285678457150352012-07-17T23:24:00.004+01:002021-10-08T23:02:44.090+01:00BRADBURY & THE BEES<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTXeG7cZwS938qq8JoOVsCcsWuiI2Z9nMgJlDNu3Lzn-mHeePg2Nz2Wzgd835U1QbsnY6EqEDl-yJ2dRiJhD-HNYCDJwj44YiCUHThpcr1QIJvqfHawQgL195POv568gSZwv7I/s1600/062312.gif" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTXeG7cZwS938qq8JoOVsCcsWuiI2Z9nMgJlDNu3Lzn-mHeePg2Nz2Wzgd835U1QbsnY6EqEDl-yJ2dRiJhD-HNYCDJwj44YiCUHThpcr1QIJvqfHawQgL195POv568gSZwv7I/s1600/062312.gif" /></a></div><p>
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<i> </i></p><p><i> </i></p><p><i> </i></p><p><i>The Daily Mutts</i> strip for 23 June, 2012</p>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-62940450902854845822012-07-11T00:00:00.000+01:002012-07-11T00:00:01.467+01:00BLACK & WHITE & IN THE PINKI only need to glimpse this Puffin Books cover art by Janet and Anne Grahame Johnson for Dodie Smith's wonderful <i>The One Hundred and One Dalmatians</i>, to be transported back to my childhood and a Christmas Day spent rapt in a captivating adventure story of heroic, talking dogs.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUuxQzH1ZxEcoo1VGn7sZjOC5wSUtflHzClDwLPJn1QFx72dhkp2ONNv-2tkwpXBVCfKtEglMgIQqJbd0k9kVIfi9a2h_tTnfLuQj_iJi7M1i9yPswoiNjj5Z0NQGfQmCU-b2b/s1600/DalmatiansCover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="387" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUuxQzH1ZxEcoo1VGn7sZjOC5wSUtflHzClDwLPJn1QFx72dhkp2ONNv-2tkwpXBVCfKtEglMgIQqJbd0k9kVIfi9a2h_tTnfLuQj_iJi7M1i9yPswoiNjj5Z0NQGfQmCU-b2b/s400/DalmatiansCover.jpg" width="475" /></a></div>
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Having fallen in love with this deliciously fanciful book, I later succumbed to the stylish, witty Disney movie. Both now happily co-exist in my memories of youthful plreassures!<br />
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<br />Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-37179421898298978162012-07-04T00:00:00.000+01:002012-07-04T03:00:02.068+01:00CROCODILE TEARSTo mark the 150th anniversary of the first telling of the story that would become <i>Alice's Adventures in Wonderland</i>, here is one of Lewis Carroll's poetic parodies from that book that is now better known than the original verse that Carroll was lampooning...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVxA2JWVpA1bW20acm_Of6_Lj9txaAunt6_YHNBJpVwtNSXnwx8hrEnhtxN0dFDdHHsDQhmRNRBXJlNRGf2LVmH9xL2pVV1pi6ccyjXnA6v90GT1JEU3RTolmA1cG0pEO0rPlp/s1600/how_doth_the_little_crocolile__by_plainme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVxA2JWVpA1bW20acm_Of6_Lj9txaAunt6_YHNBJpVwtNSXnwx8hrEnhtxN0dFDdHHsDQhmRNRBXJlNRGf2LVmH9xL2pVV1pi6ccyjXnA6v90GT1JEU3RTolmA1cG0pEO0rPlp/s640/how_doth_the_little_crocolile__by_plainme.jpg" width="475" /></a></div>
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<dl><dd><b>How doth the little crocodile</b></dd><dd><b>Improve his shining tail,</b></dd><dd><b>And pour the waters of the Nile</b></dd><dd><b>On every golden scale!</b></dd></dl>
<dl><dd><b>How cheerfully he seems to grin,</b></dd><dd><b>How neatly spreads his claws,</b></dd><dd><b>And welcomes little fishes in</b></dd><dd><b>With gently smiling jaws!</b></dd></dl>
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The original was entitled 'Against Idleness and Mischief' by Isaac Watts and appeared his 1715 book, <i>Divine and Moral Songs for the Use of Children</i>... <br />
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<dl><dd>How doth the little busy bee</dd><dd>Improve each shining hour</dd><dd>And gather honey all the day</dd><dd>From every opening flower!</dd></dl>
<dl><dd>How skillfully she builds her cell!</dd><dd>How neat she spreads the wax!</dd><dd>And labours hard to store it well</dd><dd>With the sweet food she makes.</dd></dl>
<dl><dd>In works of labour or of skill,</dd><dd>I would be busy too;</dd><dd>For Satan finds some mischief still</dd><dd>For idle hands to do.</dd></dl>
<dl><dd>In books, or work, or healthful play,</dd><dd>Let my first years be passed,</dd><dd>That I may give for every day</dd><dd>Some good account at last.</dd></dl>
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I know which <i>I</i> prefer!<br />
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You'll find more ramblings in Wonderland <b><a href="http://briansibleysblog.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/underground-publication.html">here</a></b> and, again, <b><a href="http://decidedlydisney.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/wednesdays-in-wonderland.html">here</a></b>.<br />
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Image: Crocodile by <a href="http://www.darrenhopes.com/">Darren Hopes</a>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-28629402754807615172012-06-27T10:03:00.000+01:002012-06-27T10:12:53.543+01:00READING IS BLISS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Reading is everything. </div>
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Reading makes me feel like I've accomplished something, learned something, become a better person. </div>
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Reading makes me smarter. </div>
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Reading gives me something to talk about later on. </div>
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Reading is the unbelievably healthy way my attention deficit disorder medicates itself. </div>
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Reading is escape, and the opposite of escape; it's a way to make contact with reality after a day of making things up, and it's a way of making contact with someone else's imagination after a day that's all too real. </div>
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Reading is grist. </div>
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Reading is bliss.</div>
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From <i>I Feel Bad About My Neck: And Other Thoughts on Being a Woman</i><br />
by Nora Ephron (1941-2012)<br />
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<span class="credit">Photo: REUTERS</span> <br />
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<br />Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-21181165647237495132012-04-23T09:20:00.004+01:002012-04-23T09:25:15.121+01:00HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WILL!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-GmSN1Ksxvgx0mm6tBh9FuuW0Nj2GHgctGyowRz7w7ewRa_wlaGqwXtHuJRDPuxzZOSf3DzHmSkayLuLYpRzRACC0lvoKZOrlGF0gdDpiabT4Lpf9I4EJX2_JnCQGvtULFEm/s1600/url.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 479px; height: 600px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-GmSN1Ksxvgx0mm6tBh9FuuW0Nj2GHgctGyowRz7w7ewRa_wlaGqwXtHuJRDPuxzZOSf3DzHmSkayLuLYpRzRACC0lvoKZOrlGF0gdDpiabT4Lpf9I4EJX2_JnCQGvtULFEm/s400/url.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5734508651305799442" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:130%;" >"There was a star danced,<br />and under that was I born." </span><br /></div><br />Image by <a href="http://www.artwanted.com/imageview.cfm?id=329096"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Don Pinsent</span></a><br /><div></div>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-26681161021904037192012-04-04T10:02:00.006+01:002012-07-27T08:51:12.808+01:00A FASCINATING RESULT<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIEkQ8yXyLPGsp9TYuo7zQ17HheYwsYs5sZjPgkSdOKkqyaBcOkA-M0KUdaIMMi9HX9bi6z19vKWk0OZVdrx29Gtu4iFEyVlJSuBdZ6J6qXicEEU1MNSMv4hmA-CnpCPnjD6BC/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-04-04+at+09.49.59.png"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727469552675946018" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIEkQ8yXyLPGsp9TYuo7zQ17HheYwsYs5sZjPgkSdOKkqyaBcOkA-M0KUdaIMMi9HX9bi6z19vKWk0OZVdrx29Gtu4iFEyVlJSuBdZ6J6qXicEEU1MNSMv4hmA-CnpCPnjD6BC/s400/Screen+Shot+2012-04-04+at+09.49.59.png" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 215px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 164px;" /></a>Let me express my gratitude to all my readers who voted for this blog in the recent Most Fascinating Blog awards.<br />
<br />
Although it didn't <span style="font-style: italic;">win</span>, my nominated posting about <a href="http://briansibley-exlibris.blogspot.co.uk/2006/08/mary-poppins.html"><span style="color: #3333ff; font-weight: bold;">P L Travers and Mary Poppins</span></a> earned <span style="font-weight: bold;">Ex Libris</span> 10th place out of the 93 blogs that were in the running for the award.<br />
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Thank you!Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-31833683997751525372012-03-21T11:24:00.007+00:002012-03-22T01:18:46.576+00:00WHAT IS THE GRASS?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSj2xPB_7cJ1OxxEVAKwOAYjXAX3ig5UFlISAgl3wwb1KivIYLWOc2q2SBVcBJ4ZNCkDs_VxdasH6bzX7E6QIUBO9S9_R2S54zneBZkh0-z7ApNeU0Ul0U0ITGP87-w2e1I02f/s1600/walt_whitman_tshirt-d235995956353515402rjjh_325.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSj2xPB_7cJ1OxxEVAKwOAYjXAX3ig5UFlISAgl3wwb1KivIYLWOc2q2SBVcBJ4ZNCkDs_VxdasH6bzX7E6QIUBO9S9_R2S54zneBZkh0-z7ApNeU0Ul0U0ITGP87-w2e1I02f/s320/walt_whitman_tshirt-d235995956353515402rjjh_325.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722313662165970706" border="0" /></a>The United Nations has decreed that today in World Poetry Day<br /><br />This is the sixth section of<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Walt Whitman's </span>glorious<br />'Song of Myself'<br />from Book III of<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Leaves of Grass</span>...<p><br /></p><p></p><blockquote><p>A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;<br />How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.<br /></p> <p>I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.<br /></p> <p>Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,<br />A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,<br />Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose?<br /></p> <p>Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.<br /></p> <p>Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,<br />And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,<br />Growing among black folks as among white,<br />Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same.<br /></p> <p>And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.<br /></p> <p>Tenderly will I use you curling grass,<br />It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,<br />It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,<br />It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out of their mothers' laps,<br />And here you are the mothers' laps.<br /></p> <p>This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers,<br />Darker than the colorless beards of old men,<br />Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.<br /></p> <p>O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues,<br />And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing.<br /></p> <p>I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women,<br />And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps.<br /></p> <p>What do you think has become of the young and old men?<br />And what do you think has become of the women and children?<br /></p> <p>They are alive and well somewhere,<br />The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,<br />And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,<br />And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.<br /></p> All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,<br />And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.<br /></blockquote><br /><div></div>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-9761633009894106772012-02-27T11:29:00.005+00:002012-07-27T08:40:45.938+01:00HOW FASCINATING?This blog is one of 93 blogs nominated for the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Most Fascinating Blog of 2012 Award!</span> It was <a href="http://briansibley-exlibris.blogspot.com/2006/08/mary-poppins.html"><span style="color: #3333ff;">this posting about <span style="font-weight: bold;">P L Travers and Mary Poppins</span></span></a> that won me the nomination from a pool of over 2,300 submissions!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjncdnufx8cQqVq-3st5pHSUGrMlJKrcp4gxE4-wfSGQm0H-bhdfXWxUbv-hrAiNNlWOks-ktIpm9qn4fXTDiTU9pyUWxKtG6sal9Cn9mp9_tvyx2no4SIinGCjVSXn-apTive/s1600/6a00e54ef837538833014e891ef62f970d-500wi.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713786709982789826" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjncdnufx8cQqVq-3st5pHSUGrMlJKrcp4gxE4-wfSGQm0H-bhdfXWxUbv-hrAiNNlWOks-ktIpm9qn4fXTDiTU9pyUWxKtG6sal9Cn9mp9_tvyx2no4SIinGCjVSXn-apTive/s400/6a00e54ef837538833014e891ef62f970d-500wi.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 327px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 436px;" /></a><br />
And now <span style="font-style: italic;">you</span>, gentle reader, can now take part in voting it the MFB of 2012!<br />
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UPDATE: Voting <span style="color: #000099; font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: black;">is now closed</span></span><span style="color: #000099; font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: black;"><br /><div.></div.></span></span><br />
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</div>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-45851408947832116552012-02-14T00:01:00.001+00:002012-02-14T00:49:14.947+00:00A VALENTINE VERSARY<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">A</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >VALENTINE</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Greeting</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >from one of my all-time favourite versifiers,</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" >Mr OGDEN NASH</span><br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_IzrUMz4T-gQ2FZNNF8tT41FvJ-NAyqfLjaA6bnGjPc5p4UW9jgfzpiUae3rl0uR-RoysP_35vwnQ0Rnlz247Gk64VDSTYrRpxPHYyA-pjsrbAhOf1C1V8T-DzyUPTCl1cWDG/s1600/lf.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_IzrUMz4T-gQ2FZNNF8tT41FvJ-NAyqfLjaA6bnGjPc5p4UW9jgfzpiUae3rl0uR-RoysP_35vwnQ0Rnlz247Gk64VDSTYrRpxPHYyA-pjsrbAhOf1C1V8T-DzyUPTCl1cWDG/s400/lf.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706817842089991330" border="0" /></a><p><span style="font-size:130%;"><i></i></span></p><blockquote><p><span style="font-size:130%;"><i></i></span></p></blockquote><blockquote><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><i style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">To My Valentine</i> </span></p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:130%;">More than a catbird hates a cat,<br />Or a criminal hates a clue,<br />Or the Axis hates the United States,<br />That's how much I love you. </span></p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:130%;">I love you more than a duck can swim,<br />And more than a grapefruit squirts,<br />I love you more than a gin rummy is a bore,<br />And more than a toothache hurts. </span></p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:130%;">As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,<br />Or a juggler hates a shove,<br />As a hostess detests unexpected guests,<br />That's how much you I love. </span></p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:130%;">I love you more than a wasp can sting,<br />And more than the subway jerks,<br />I love you as much as a beggar needs a crutch,<br />And more than a hangnail irks. </span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >I swear to you by the stars above,<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >And below, if such there be,<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >As the High Court loathes perjurious oathes,<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >That's how you're loved by me. </span><br /><div></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Image: Autograph and self-portrait by Ogden Nash<br /></div></div><p><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p></blockquote><p><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-64587306825725210702012-02-07T00:01:00.003+00:002012-02-07T00:13:37.970+00:00WHAT THE *******?<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">HAPPY 200th BIRTHDAY</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">to</span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-size:180%;" >CHARLES DICKENS</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">(7 February 1812–9 June 1870)</span><br /></div><blockquote><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1g_eMLaSpKnEYT9ivJFEBMSsdjVqy049ZfrO7IviQA5m3ngcHCPPbMGAecphmtnAqWJvcblubR89Hq1Mfod_Mk2FauN3H9eJDRIBsWwc86NYSim9YLW0_kGf1AXP8D8yNufI/s1600/Charles-Dickens-Caricature.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 430px; height: 546px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1g_eMLaSpKnEYT9ivJFEBMSsdjVqy049ZfrO7IviQA5m3ngcHCPPbMGAecphmtnAqWJvcblubR89Hq1Mfod_Mk2FauN3H9eJDRIBsWwc86NYSim9YLW0_kGf1AXP8D8yNufI/s400/Charles-Dickens-Caricature.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706177903110792546" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"><span style="font-size:100%;">"He is a wonderfully accomplished man — most extraordinarily accomplished — reads — <span style="font-style: italic;">hem </span>— reads every novel that comes out; I mean every novel that — <span style="font-style: italic;">hem</span> — that has any fashion in it, of course. The fact is, that he did find so much in the books he read, applicable to his own misfortunes, and did find himself in every respect so much like the heroes — because of course he is conscious of his own superiority, as we all are, and very naturally — that he took to scorning everything, and became a genius."</span></span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: right;">- Miss <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Knag</span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"></span> speaking of her brother, Mr. Mortimer <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Knag</span>,<br />a stationer and keeper of a small circulating library, in <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Life and Adventures of Nicholas </span><span style="font-weight: bold;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Nickleby</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>(1838-9)</div></blockquote><br />Caricature of Charles Dickens by <a href="http://www.reallyfunnystuff.org/funny-pictures/caricatures-from-court-jones/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Court Jones</span></a>.<br /><div></div>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-37036543312663104882012-01-27T00:01:00.002+00:002012-02-07T09:30:45.930+00:00"WHAT DAY OF THE MONTH IS IT?""The twenty-seventh!"<br /><br />Which means – if my watch isn't two days wrong – that today must be the 180th birthday of...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Charles Lutwidge Dodgson</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">aka </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">LEWIS CARROLL</span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38cWW2tXwfFDod3xCRpj-IgeuYk6LvqI-cHTZ5x7deImWa94JAJx51EQFGpPJRAqQcLQtBxZ6_QTE9jHU_n87WiCpWZ8ZsqvoMYnlU5o2X0qE4akoxENPg-Igytj-zOsomKwP/s1600/carroll_lewis-19791679.2_gif_300x315_q85.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 358px; height: 376px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38cWW2tXwfFDod3xCRpj-IgeuYk6LvqI-cHTZ5x7deImWa94JAJx51EQFGpPJRAqQcLQtBxZ6_QTE9jHU_n87WiCpWZ8ZsqvoMYnlU5o2X0qE4akoxENPg-Igytj-zOsomKwP/s400/carroll_lewis-19791679.2_gif_300x315_q85.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697425633379718210" border="0" /></a><br />The Wordle below was created with the text of <span style="font-style: italic;">Alice's Adventures in Wonderland</span>, Chapter 7: 'A Mad Tea-Party'...<br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg4JeANUUbRMlsJUFK0mySPKkH0FCcsj61SgC0sukyEM7GIOVioSBg5oIFBSQf9EHBB0rrepwAUKdoAhf-PqMSazphCOJDzM4M8d0wVddiU-9cVOxSKf28Y8C8YRmT8dWCsyYT/s1600/A+Mad+Tea-Party.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 477px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg4JeANUUbRMlsJUFK0mySPKkH0FCcsj61SgC0sukyEM7GIOVioSBg5oIFBSQf9EHBB0rrepwAUKdoAhf-PqMSazphCOJDzM4M8d0wVddiU-9cVOxSKf28Y8C8YRmT8dWCsyYT/s400/A+Mad+Tea-Party.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697425636123281010" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Caricature of Lewis Carroll by David Levine<br /></div><div></div><br /></div>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-61416138985992845422012-01-03T21:04:00.005+00:002012-01-03T22:52:30.298+00:00JRRT @ 120<div style="text-align: center;">Today is<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">the 120th Birthday of</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">J R R Tolkien</span></span><br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4DHP7MKz3eCRBONJKnLm1mYnYsTP_euSquR3NTBvFdQxybCzkAO9WyJGUkRAVfpIcicPMIaApXbEhgYlAPRp0wq-B6ydLr3flF7lTQbMexSBuPUw4CfjiKAc6oHX-hF51phJ/s1600/tolkein_j_r-19670504010R.2_gif_300x534_q85.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 414px; height: 735px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4DHP7MKz3eCRBONJKnLm1mYnYsTP_euSquR3NTBvFdQxybCzkAO9WyJGUkRAVfpIcicPMIaApXbEhgYlAPRp0wq-B6ydLr3flF7lTQbMexSBuPUw4CfjiKAc6oHX-hF51phJ/s400/tolkein_j_r-19670504010R.2_gif_300x534_q85.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693542236784601362" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:130%;" >"If more of us valued food and cheer and song<br />above hoarded gold,<br />it would be a merrier world."</span><br /></div><br /><br />And my personal thanks to the Professor for the opportunities I have had to work with his great stories, which, as a result, have made <span style="font-style: italic;">my</span> world a great deal merrier!<br /><br />Image: David Levine<br /><div></div>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-58492232832760934342012-01-01T00:01:00.003+00:002012-01-02T18:40:09.124+00:00NEW YEAR BOOKINGSA few bookish quotes by bookish men and women to start the New Year...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwaD8uxhFp_Ei9NTafFjHY7y7wwUNZeeFBP_WPOilayXD1UHytuuaQS1STschKkmMHTsC6aNozkoAJbPdBoGUNC5CvLzNIBEllxJfjq4kA_pbSCStUfDoz7y_WETR-PG8fgXr_/s1600/F1.medium.gif"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 471px; height: 635px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwaD8uxhFp_Ei9NTafFjHY7y7wwUNZeeFBP_WPOilayXD1UHytuuaQS1STschKkmMHTsC6aNozkoAJbPdBoGUNC5CvLzNIBEllxJfjq4kA_pbSCStUfDoz7y_WETR-PG8fgXr_/s400/F1.medium.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691215571929875650" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"></span><blockquote><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Books are humanity in print.</span><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;">~ </span><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;">Barbara W Tuchman</span><br /></div><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">A book must be an ice-axe to break the seas frozen inside our soul.</span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;">~ Franz Kafka</span><br /></div><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Books let us into their souls and lay open to us the secrets of our own. </span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;">~ William Hazlitt</span><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">When you reread a classic you do not see more in the book than you did before; you see more in </span><i style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">you</i><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"> than was there before. </span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;">~ Clifton Fadiman</span><br /></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">The best of a book is not the thought which it contains, but the thought which it suggests; just as the charm of music dwells not in the tones but in the echoes of our hearts. </span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;">~ Oliver Wendell Holmes</span><br /></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">It is what you read when you don't have to that determines what you will be when you can't help it. </span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;">~ Oscar Wilde</span><br /></div><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">A book reads the better which is our own, and has been so long known to us, that we know the topography of its blots, and dog's ears, and can trace the dirt in it to having read it at tea with buttered muffins.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">~ Charles Lamb, <span style="font-style: italic;">Last Essays of Elia</span>, 1833<br /></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Lord! when you sell a man a book you don't sell just twelve ounces of paper and ink and glue - you sell him a whole new life. Love and friendship and humour and ships at sea by night - there's all heaven and earth in a book, a real book. </span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;">~ Christopher Morley</span><br /></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">No man can be called friendless who has God and the companionship of good books. </span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;">~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning</span></div></blockquote><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:180%;">May you have a year of<br />Good Books!<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;" >Image: 'The Librarian' by Guiseppe Archimboldo (</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal;" class="st">1527-1593)</span><br /><div></div><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal;"><div></div></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span></div>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30548671.post-68386629291152825112011-12-24T00:01:00.001+00:002011-12-24T00:01:00.257+00:00HAPPY, HAPPY, CHRISTMAS!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm_f1d0AHG2Ly0jXBA2tN-LFZ1HADgHtS43sq5c9QGk5GRGGV-sUAkLUIh5Fqt2vIK7k9PpUGxlJnDiQMR9V59oTT5rAooR6aPpp31_k_9coEXMdWOgZwZLNSuibBG_QbkAfTa/s1600/micawber.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 422px; height: 422px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm_f1d0AHG2Ly0jXBA2tN-LFZ1HADgHtS43sq5c9QGk5GRGGV-sUAkLUIh5Fqt2vIK7k9PpUGxlJnDiQMR9V59oTT5rAooR6aPpp31_k_9coEXMdWOgZwZLNSuibBG_QbkAfTa/s400/micawber.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688568041159918322" border="0" /></a><br /><blockquote><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >"Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth; that can transport the sailor and the traveller, thousands of miles away, back to his own fire-side and his quiet home!"</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">- Charles Dickens, <span style="font-style: italic;">The Pickwick Papers </span>(1836)<br /><div></div><br /></div></blockquote>Brian Sibleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02395103557170474777noreply@blogger.com1