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John Whitworth 01-19-2012 02:29 AM

Speccie Dickens Triple Limericks
 
Larkin brought no money to Sphereans. Close but no cigar to three of us, Frank, Bob and me. Must try harder.

NO. 2733: distilling dickens
You are invited to condense a Dickens novel into a triple limerick. Please email entries, if possible, to lucy@spectator.co.uk by midday on 1 February.

Sounds straightforward enough. Fall to it, friends

John Whitworth 01-19-2012 11:06 AM

Here's my first shot. I can't help feeling the shade of Bazza over this one.


Hard Times

In this book Dickens gets analytical:
If the bosses were less hypocritical,
Less hard-hearted swine,
Then things would be fine.
He denies that the answer's political.

Then there's Gradgrind who toils to instill
The precepts of Bentham and Mill
And doesn't give tuppence,
Until his come-uppance,
For kindness of heart and goodwill.

All the honest but gullible workers
Are led to perdition by shirkers
Fomenting unrest
Among the depressed
When they should have gone off to the circus.

Roger Slater 01-19-2012 12:57 PM

Good one, John.

Does "Christmas Carol" qualify as a "novel" here?

Roger Slater 01-19-2012 01:33 PM

David Copperfield


Am I my life's hero? We'll see
In these limericks if that is to be,
But one clue is vital:
Just look at the title.
That Copperfield fellow? It's me.

Some kids have good lives. I did not.
My dad died and things went to pot.
But the worst part was over
The day I reached Dover
And Betsey, my aunt, named me Trot.

I married a sweet girl who died.
I said I was sorry. I lied.
It was Agnes, my friend,
I betrothed in the end,
And who made me feel happy inside.

John Whitworth 01-19-2012 01:42 PM

Likewise Roger. Yes, I think we can say that 'A Christmas Carol' is a novel.

Roger Slater 01-19-2012 02:30 PM

Okay, then here's a first draft:


CHRISTMAS CAROL

It was Christmas, a season of cheer,
The happiest time of the year
For all, but not Scrooge.
His greed was so huge
That his face wore a permanent sneer.

Love? It meant nothing to him.
"Drown!" he said, "if you can't swim!
To hell with the poor
Who beg alms at the door!
To hell with that boy Tiny Tim!"

But then came a dream as he slept.
Three ghosts paid a visit. He wept.
"For now on I'll be
A good person, you'll see!
Praise the Lord!" It's a promise he kept.

basil ransome-davies 01-19-2012 03:36 PM

eh?
 
[quote=John Whitworth;230208]Here's my first shot. I can't help feeling the shade of Bazza over this one.

Whatever that means.

basil ransome-davies 01-19-2012 03:37 PM

eh?
 
[quote=basil ransome-davies;230263]
Quote:

Originally Posted by John Whitworth (Post 230208)
Here's my first shot. I can't help feeling the shade of Bazza over this one.

Whatever that means.

John Whitworth 01-19-2012 08:18 PM

I mean it reminds me of you, though I think you might have rhymed more deftly.

Gail White 01-20-2012 08:23 PM

Young Nell and her senile old Gramps
are runaways, living like tramps,
while eluding pursuit
from a brute who to boot
is a dwarf, and the lowest of scamps.

Our two journey on to the races
and meet some odd folks in odd places.
They travel with Punch
and later have lunch
at a cart full of painted wax faces.

The travelers find rest at a school.
The wicked dwarf drowns in a pool.
All the good guys are blessed--
and if you haven't guessed
that Little Nell dies, you're a fool.


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