Tristia Ex Toronto
I have just been reminded of Ovid, more's the pity, by Scottish Friend, who is grumbling about what rot it is. I wasn't able to offer him any consolation, since Ovid reminds me of the creep at a party who always thinks he can improve on the punchline of other people's jokes.
[Incidentally, Canadians have a similar problem, to judge by the greetings cards available here. For instance, a few weeks after I got here I was looking for a birthday card and was delighted to see some decorated with Gary Larson "The Far Side" cartoons, which my learned reader will be aware have rather witty one-line captions beneath them. However, these versions had been defaced by terrible lame quips on the inside of the card. Either the original bon mots are so subtle as to evade the grasp of the Canadian greeting-card market, or else there is some dreadful little Ovid working for Hallmark Canada Inc. who hovers, blue pencil in hand, over each tight, cleverly-wrought cartoon, scoffing "Call that a punchline? This is a punchline...". However that may be, it makes buying cards a trying task. There are always plenty of those bland ones of vases of flowers and sleeping cats and what have you, but it frequently happens that a reflective-looking bowl of peonies, a pair lace curtains billowing at a sunlit window etc do not strike the note one is after. Stylish cards, undefiled by inane addenda, are at such a premium that it is no wonder they cost about seven dollars each (a sum which will buy you a pretty decent lunch in this city, before tax).]
Anyway, as I was saying. The observant may have noticed that the subtitle of my blog has changed. The new title is a hilarious malapropism on the title of one of Ovid's very worst poems, the Tristia Ex Ponto (Sorrows From The Sea-Side), a load of repetitive self-indulgent whining about how much the poet likes Rome and how much he hates the freezing, wet, desolate dump he now finds himself in, devoid of culture and beauty and all his books, and how terribly hard done by he is and just wants to go home. The new title was suggested to me by Scottish Friend. I hope he wasn't making a point.
[Incidentally, Canadians have a similar problem, to judge by the greetings cards available here. For instance, a few weeks after I got here I was looking for a birthday card and was delighted to see some decorated with Gary Larson "The Far Side" cartoons, which my learned reader will be aware have rather witty one-line captions beneath them. However, these versions had been defaced by terrible lame quips on the inside of the card. Either the original bon mots are so subtle as to evade the grasp of the Canadian greeting-card market, or else there is some dreadful little Ovid working for Hallmark Canada Inc. who hovers, blue pencil in hand, over each tight, cleverly-wrought cartoon, scoffing "Call that a punchline? This is a punchline...". However that may be, it makes buying cards a trying task. There are always plenty of those bland ones of vases of flowers and sleeping cats and what have you, but it frequently happens that a reflective-looking bowl of peonies, a pair lace curtains billowing at a sunlit window etc do not strike the note one is after. Stylish cards, undefiled by inane addenda, are at such a premium that it is no wonder they cost about seven dollars each (a sum which will buy you a pretty decent lunch in this city, before tax).]
Anyway, as I was saying. The observant may have noticed that the subtitle of my blog has changed. The new title is a hilarious malapropism on the title of one of Ovid's very worst poems, the Tristia Ex Ponto (Sorrows From The Sea-Side), a load of repetitive self-indulgent whining about how much the poet likes Rome and how much he hates the freezing, wet, desolate dump he now finds himself in, devoid of culture and beauty and all his books, and how terribly hard done by he is and just wants to go home. The new title was suggested to me by Scottish Friend. I hope he wasn't making a point.
posted by Scarlet at 9:55 pm
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