by Wayne Leon Learmond

Created on: February 15, 2010

THE OWL AND THE PUSSYCAT
BY EDWARD LEAR
TIMELINE: 1812-1888

When I was a child, this was my all-time favourite poem to listen too and read as well. I would be absolutely fascinated in the imagery in my mind that this nonsense poem would conjure up. By the time I was seven years of age I knew this poem off by heart, and would recite it time and again. I always wanted to be that owl, serenading the pussycat in a pea-green boat, {stupid yes, but all the same it fired the mind and imagination of a young child - which is what all good writing should do}.

Written in 1871 by Edward Lear for the daughter of his close friend, John Addington Symonds - who was himself a poet, this Victorian classic went on to entertain and fascinate children the world over who heard and read it. The poem itself is a complete nonsense from beginning to end,yet somehow it all comes together fantastically well.  It begins with the two main characters {the Owl and the Pussycat}, setting sail in their pea-green boat.  Their only supplies being honey, and money {wrapped up, conveniently} in a five pound note.

As they sail on, the Owl then begins to sing an ode as he plays his small guitar to the pussycat  {waxing lyrical about his love for her}. The cat replies about how lovely the owl sings, and in turn she asks him to marry her, but wants to know what they should do for a ring?  So they sail away, for a year and a day until they reach land {the land where the Bong Tree grows}.  Once there they find a pig with a ring dangling from the end of his nose.

They then ask the pig whether he would be willing to sell his ring for one shilling?  To which the pig replies 'I will'.  Taking the ring from the pig, the following day they were married - by the turkey who lived on the hill.  They dined upon mince, and slices of quince {probably because they where so poor after paying for the ring} which they ate with a 'runcible spoon'.  The end of the poem tells of how they walked, hand-in-hand, by the edge of the sand, dancing to the light of the moon.

Even to this day, the imagery that this piece of writing conjurs up is something to be admired. This poem has fascinated me - and countless others - for years, yet I cannot explain why?  Perhaps it is its sheer innocence and charm that takes the reader  away on a journey of nonsense, to arrive at the end, safe and sound, having been witness to the two main characters finally marrying?  Perhaps it is the

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