There are a lot of posts that I wanted to write before writing this one, but then I didn't know that I wanted to write this one until a few seconds ago, and so it seems to have "cut" in line.
Which is OK.
On a whim a few nights ago, I picked up a biography of Lewis Carroll (born Charles Lutwidge Dodgson). I had recently read "The Hunting of the Snark" and found it so delightfully not stupid that I wanted to know a thing or two about the person behind the poem.
What I've found has certainly been... odd.
Consider this: The next time you're riding the "Alice in Wonderland" ride at Disneyland, or the next time you give away the book for Christmas, or the next time you quote Jabberwocky (found in "Through the Looking Glass"), try to ignore the fact that you're delighting in a fantasy world created for a child named "Alice Liddell" by an unusually bright and creative latent pedophile.
I had an inkling of a thought that this was the case, but it wasn't until I picked up this book that I began to get the whole picture. Follow-up with articles (both web and otherwise) seems to confirm this as fact.
Wow.
Even stranger...
I also learned from this book that the legal age of marriage for a "woman" in England in the Victorian era was twelve. Yes - before a child had even entered puberty, she could be married away.
In an era when people didn't look at piano legs for fear of being sexually excited, they allowed their adolescents to be wooed, courted, and wed.
And even stranger still...
In a time when children could be sent off as wives, someone like Oscar Wilde wasn't able to go about his business in the victimless act of buggering his friends (consensual adults).
Oscar went to prison and lost everything thanks to the time's intolerance for his sexual preference, but nobody seemed to mind that children were becoming wives.
And just bizarre...
The strangest thing about all of this is that most of the western world can trace its roots back to a time and place (ancient Greece) where a combination of Lewis Carrol's tastes (rather young) were combined with Oscar Wilde's sexual orientation (same polarities) openly and regularly.
Why I care...
I find this interesting for a couple reasons:
- 1-
It's fascinating how people can celebrate something without knowing its origins when those origins would probably get right in the way of their enjoyment.
- 2 -
Completely forgetting #1 for a second, I'm a big fan of separating the artist from the art.
Consider these people:
- Bobby Fischer: Love his chess (absolutely brilliant), but hate the man - hate, hate, hate the twisted person he's become
- Ezra Pound: Down with the poetry, but he can keep his psycho politics (he died with them, which is basically the same thing)
- Michael Jackson: The guy is obviously in hot water right now, but I love his music
It's funny, though, how I "look the other way" when looking at Bobby's chess games, reading Pound's poetry, or listening to Michael's music.
Anyway, those are just some random thoughts I had this morning.
How's that for a way to get Friday going?