O frabjous day!

Hello Friends,

Those of you who have been on this poem-a-day list for a few years can probably already guess that today I am challenging you to read “Jabberwocky” out loud to someone you know.

Making up words is something poetry and queerness have in common, two of my great interests. In Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass, it’s Humpty Dumpty who says (in a rather scornful tone), “When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.” I love that line — but Carroll also makes a point of humorously showing us that Humpty Dumpty’s conversations don’t go very well when he assumes that meaning is 100% created by the speaker (which Humpty Dumpty does when he is the speaker), nor when he assumes meaning is 100% created by the listener (which Humpty Dumpty does when he is the listener).

One of the things I love about “Jabberwocky” is that Carroll forces you to acknowledge the role of the reader, and not just the writer, in constructing the meaning of a poem — not just this poem but any poem. Carroll draws particular attention to the reader’s participation by using words for which we as readers must invent our own pronunciations and meanings — but even in other poems, where the words are not made up, we as readers are still applying our own meanings, in a sense creating our own translations, for the words on the page.

<3 Ellen


Jabberwocky

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought —
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One two! One two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.


If you’re feeling brave, also try one of these translations of Jabberwocky — into languages ranging from Spanish and Japanese to C++ and Klingon — compiled many years ago by Keith Lim.

“Jabberwocky” has also been featured in several previous poem-a-days.

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