November 29, 2007
STATUES OF KINGS
Pablo Picasso, Le Vieux Roi (The Aged King), 1959
STATUES OF KINGS
Statues of kings can be categorized as follows:
1. Kings seated on:
a) a throne
b) a stool
c) a boulder
d) a horse (often)
e) a donkey (rarely)
f) a quadruped (an elephant or a camel in exotic places)
g) the shoulders of another man (occasionally)
h) the roof of a building (extremely rare occasions)
2. Kings standing on:
a) the ground
b) a podium
c) a stage (official occasions)
d) a stool with a back
e) a stool without a back
f) a pedestal (often)
g) a horse or any other animal (awkwardly)
h) a man lying on the ground (unusual circumstances)
3. Kings seated or standing with:
a) their arms falling to their sides
b) the left or right hand on the chest
c) both hands on the chest
d) one hand in the pocket of their trousers
e) both hands in the pockets of their trousers
f) one hand on top of their head (almost never)
g) their legs crossed (very often)
h) their eyes closed (only when they are dead)
4. Kings lying down:
a) usually during insurrections or revolutions
b) normally while making love
c) when they are dead
RAYMOND FEDERMAN
Comments:
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Ray, your post reminds me of one of my favorite writers of aphorisms, whom you undoubtedly know: Stanislaw Jerzy Lec. He said once: "even on the throne, the pants wear out". The image of kings in whatever position, lying down, sitting, or running around merely displaying their garments with occasional holes in them, makes me laugh. It occurs to me that this post complements very nicely your other post, in which you quote yourself, "About Writers and Writing". Perhaps you are suggesting that the question for writers still remains similar to that which Alice in Wonderland poses: "who is to be master?" Who is to be king of writing? Any thoughts? I'm writing as we speak (or write) a paper for an invited presentation at Babes-Bolyai University in Cluj, dealing, of course, with you as a master. Words are sexy, you said to me not long ago, so now I want to ask, even if it's slightly unrelated: have you ever been caught with your 'writerly' pants down? And if so, what was it like to be seen (or read) in the nakedness of the image? (I'm curious about the signs of circumcision; cuts and holes can be interesting to read). As ever, Camelia Elias
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