Something Rhymes with Purple - Big Top

Episode Date: September 7, 2021

Join us under the Big Top this week as your ringmasters Susie and Gyles crack their etymological whips to tell the stories of the freaks, geeks, and clowns that populate our circuses.  We discover the famous hands Gyles has shaken at one remove thanks to Popov The Clown, we learn about the joke behind jugglers, and we ask what’s the point of acrobats?  A Somethin’ Else Production.  Susie’s Trio: Quodlibertarian - a pedantic blowhard; someone who argues over every single point Tranklements - bric-a-brac  Fulminous - relating to or resembling thunder and lightning  If you want to get in touch with a question or suggestion then please email [e-mail] Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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a safe digital space to play in. Download Fortnite on consoles, PC, cloud services, or Android and play LEGO Fortnite for free. Rated ESRB E10+. Hello and welcome to this week's episode of Something Rhymes with Purple, the podcast about words and language and just general witterings about the things that we love. I'm Susie Dent and with me as always is Giles Brandreth and he is the one behind the most interesting Witterings I should say. Hi Giles. It's good to be with you Susie. It's exciting because today we're going to talk about circuses

and I have a bit of a bee in my bonnet about circuses for a variety of reasons and I have credentials as well as a bit of a record here. The reason I'm interested in circuses goes back to a time before I can remember. When I was born, I was born in Germany after the Second World War because my parents were part of something called the Allied Control Commission. My father was in the British Army, but he was also a lawyer. And the Allied Control Commission was the part of the sort of people who went to what was the British part of Germany after the Second World War. Germany was divided by the sort of the victors in the war into regions. The Russians had a section, the French had a section, the British had a section, and the Americans had a section. And my parents were in the British section.

And they got someone to look after me, a couple, a husband and wife couple. And the man in this husband and wife couple, they were like nannies, and they helped around the house. And the husband had been a circus clown. So when I was just a toddler, I spent days with a circus clown. There wasn't a lot of work for circuses in Germany after the war, as you can imagine, who taught me when I was a little boy to walk the tightrope, to stand on my head. I was introduced to circus skills as a wee boy. as a wee boy. So I think this has influenced my whole life. Indeed, I can still stand on my head. I don't walk the tightrope. I did when I was a member of parliament, but I don't now, though my personal trainer is impressed by my sense of balance. So I learned circus skills when I was small. Then we came back to live in England. And in the 1950s, we lived in Earls Court,

in a block of flats overlooking the Earls Court Centre. Do you remember the Earls Court? There was an enormous stadium there. I don't. Oh, they used to have the Royal Tournament there. It was built in Victorian times. It was pulled down about 10, 15 years ago. Anyway.

Oh, actually, I did see the Royal Tournament once. I must have been there. And things like the Daily Mail Ideal Home Exhibition used to take place there, and the Motor Show, and the Caravan Show, all that kind of thing. Anyway, there were often circuses there. And I was taken, I think in 1956, when I was seven or eight years of age, to see the Moscow State Circus. And after the performance, you could go around to meet the animals. And they weren't just animals to meet. They were performers to meet.

And I met and shook the hand of the most famous clown in the world at the time. And some would say the most famous clown of all. Somebody called Popov the Clown. I have shaken Popov's hand. Hope you're impressed. Oleg Popov. He was a Soviet clown, a Russian clown. Lenin, when he became the ruler of Russia after the Russian Revolution and through the 1920s,

decided that circuses should be the entertainment of the people, that they would be accessible to everybody. And so circus performers with their animals and circus clowns and acrobats became revered characters in Soviet Russia. And this fellow Popov, who was quite young when I met him, he lived, he was born in 1930, so he'd only been in his mid-twenties when I met him. He lived up until 2016. He truly was the most, he was known as the sunshine clown. And he did an amazing trick. A box was brought onto the stage, the height of a man, and the lid of the box was taken off, a cardboard box, and out of this box, jumped, in one jump, pop off. And he had a checked hat, a black and white checked hat and a red nose, traditional clown makeup. And anyway, I shook his hand. And that's when, for me, it all began. And I know some people

like you aren't comfortable with clowns. We've discussed this before. You aren't, are you? No, I think lots of different reasons for that. One is, as we talked about, because we talked about funfairs a few weeks ago, and we didn't really get under the big top enough. So that's why we decided to do a separate episode. But I did mention there that I am, I mean, when I say coulrophobic, I suppose I'm using that word slightly playfully. I think it's the sounds, the bangs, the unpredictability that I just didn't like as a child. I also really didn't like the use of animals. Thankfully, they are now banned in most circuses. But, you know, I just was always worried about the animals. So it just wasn't a particularly happy place for me. And even now, if I go to a circus and they're using performing horses, it just doesn't sit that

comfortably with me. But the language of the circus and the history of the circus and the tribal language of those who work within it is absolutely fascinating. And that's, of course, where my brain starts firing. But do you remember where circus itself comes from? I imagine it's going to be a Latin word. It's going to date back to Rome, the circus maximus. Absolutely. You're right. And it goes back to circus meaning a ring, because a Roman circus, like modern circuses, were rounded or sometimes oval arenas and they were lined with tiers of seats. But there you would see chariot races and gladiators and pretty cruel contests. But then, of course, in London, we have Piccadilly Circus, we have Oxford Circus.

And they were attached to open more or less circular areas in towns where the streets converged. So that's the idea behind the circus in place names. As a place of entertainment, the circus goes back to Roman times. There was the circus Maximus back in Rome. There was later the circus Flaminius, the circus Neronis, something like that. Anyway, it was a circus that Nero enjoyed. So there were a lot of circuses in those days. When the Roman Empire disappeared, the circus disappeared as well. To be revived a few centuries later, really, I think 12th, 13th century, there was the Hippodrome of Constantinople, which was like a circus, where indeed, in these old circuses,

as well as there being chariot races, there were cruel things going on, like people being put to the lions and all that sort of entertainment, of which there are echoes still, sadly, in the idea of the bullring and bullfighting going on. Again, something that happens in a circle. But the origin of the modern circus, the circus that we know that you would think of as Billy Smart Circus or Jerry Cottle Circus, that goes back to an Englishman, a man called Philip Astley. I know about this because I was lucky enough to be at university with a fellow called Anthony Spate, whose father, George Spate, wrote the definitive history of the circus. So if you're listening to this and you want to know more about circuses, look up

Spate, S-P-E-A-I-G-H-T, and if you want to know about circuses, this man knew. And he celebrated and acknowledges that Philip Astley, born 1742, Newcastle upon Tyne, cavalry officer, 1842, Newcastle upon Tyne, cavalry officer set up an amphitheatre to really display horse riding tricks. He was an amazing equestrian and he could ride side saddle, bareback, he could stand on the horse, he could go at speed, he did all sorts of extraordinary tricks and he introduced the idea of acrobats on the horses and indeed fooling around clowns and brought the idea of the jester into the circus ring. So it's Astley's Circus that really is the first one. He established his circuses 1740s to 1770 is his time. Acrobats, tightrope walkers, jugglers, that's what he put in there.

We mentioned Barnum last time, didn't we? And how, although he's been made so famous through film, through books, etc., how he was a very unorthodox and some might say very unlikable character. People in this country, we're speaking to you from England, people from the United Kingdom who are famous are Philip Astley and a man called Andrew Ducro. Also, there was a fellow called Sanger, whose name actually still goes on. In America, it is indeed Phineas Taylor Barnum, a great showman, but maybe his way with women and his way with some of the acts that he had. He exploited people who had, you know, he had the bearded lady, people who were called midgets. He specialised in these kind of, well, I think they were called freaks. Well, in fact, let's get down to some of the words. I want to know about acrobat, tightrope walker, juggler, where these words come. But let's start with freak show. Where does freak show come from? Freak has a really unlikely beginning because its ultimate ancestor is an old English verb, freakian, which meant to dance. And in fact, when it first arrived in

English, it meant, this is around the mid 16th century, it meant a sudden change of mind. It was like a capricious notion. So it was all about impulse. And we hear authors of the time drawing on the idea of whimsy when they describe the fickle freaks of fortune. But then because nature behaves unpredictably, I suppose the idea was that it runs off course and then any human being considered to be unusual or in the standards of the time abnormal was therefore equally the sign of a freakish universe which is how we got to where we are today and then you know by the 19th century the freak show was in its heyday and as we said you know the girl with four legs the human skeleton the bearded lady etc and then it changed again when in the 60s the peaceniks gave us the freak flag which was long hair so again it was

the idea of being kind of unorthodox and then the freak who experienced a bad trip from a drug or hallucinogen was described as freaking out when they lost control as a result so that's the kind of trajectory slightly strange one of freak and then you've got the geek as well if you remember because the geek's pretty much involved here because that's a version of the dialect word gek meaning a fool. And that was first applied to freaks who would entertain the crowds by doing such outlandish, horrible things as biting the heads off live chickens or live snakes. And the idea was that they were extreme and they were obsessive. And that is where very gradually it spawned the idea of the Greek who was studiously obsessive, somebody who really immersed themselves in their work. And

now, as we've said before, Giles, haven't we, it's now actually a term of approbation. It's great to be a geek. I call myself a geek all the time because that's how I see myself. So it's come full circle. Some people call me not a geek, but a freak. In fact, P.T. Barnum, his freaks, many of the early ones, weren't really freaks at all. His first major attraction in the 1840s was a character that he said was a mermaid, Fiji the Mermaid. And he said it was a creature with the body of a monkey and the tail of a fish. And he put it on display. and the Tale of a Fish. And he put it on display, and he acknowledged later that it actually, he said, you know, I don't believe in duping the public, but I believe in first attracting and then pleasing them. You know, they want a mermaid, I give them a mermaid. Here's Fiji.

And it wasn't a mermaid at all. And people had mixed feelings about him. He followed the mermaid with another act, a real person, a small man whose real name was Charles Stratton, another act, a real person, a small man whose real name was Charles Stratton, who he gave the name General Tom Thumb to and advertised him as the smallest person that ever walked alone. The child, actually, was, I think, only four years old, but Barnum said he was already 11, and he taught this child, who was clearly a remarkable young person, to imitate people. child, who was clearly a remarkable young person, to imitate people. He did an imitation of Hercules, he did the Emperor Napoleon, and he exploited this boy, giving him wine to drink, giving him cigars to smoke, when I think he was only sort of five or six years of age. Tom Thumb had mixed feelings, because Tom Thumb came to Europe, he met Queen Victoria, who was much amused by him.

But actually, interestingly, she was both amused by him. But actually, interestingly, she was both amused by him and saddened by him. And of course, Barnum was involved with Jumbo, wasn't he, I think, as well. Indeed, he bought Jumbo from London Zoo. And am I right in thinking Queen Victoria tried to hold on to him? And there was a big campaign to keep him in Britain, I think. And he was enormous, wasn't he, an African elephant, four metres tall. But anyway, I mentioned J And he was enormous, wasn't he? An African elephant, four metres tall. But anyway, I mentioned Jumbo because it is because of that elephant. And then, of course,

Disney portrayed him in the film Dumbo. But it's because of that original elephant that we use Jumbo for anything from sausages to planes. Jumbo has joined the ranks of the great immortals because of his name. And I may have mentioned this to you before, but famously, Oscar Wilde, when he was in New York on one of his trips, went to Barnum and Bailey's Circus,

and Barnum introduced Oscar Wilde to Jumbo. And it was then that Oscar Wilde came up with his belief that to live in the minds of people, you had to have a name of just five letters, like Oscar or Wilde or Jesus or Plato. These are the examples he gave. Or Giles. Or Giles. Or Jumbo. If you have a name of five letters, people will remember it. And Oscar Wilde said that if people like you, they will know you by your first name. So you think of, I don't know, Scylla or Elvis. But if they don't like you, they remember the five-letter surname, Trump. So, isn't that interesting? Well done, Jumbo. So, give us the origin of some of these other circus words. I mean, what about, we discussed the big top itself.

Yes. So, the big top is what we call in language a metonym. So, that's a word, or it can be a name or an expression that's used as a substitute for something it's closely associated with. So for example, Washington is a metonym for the US government. Downing Street is the same. And so it is with the big top. So originally it was indeed the main tent of a circus. And then it just became a metonym really for the whole of the circus, which was entirely

due to that main tent of the circus. It's the big top that the circus operates under. And in fact, one of the OED's very first reference is to Barnum from 1891, out on the road with Barnum's big top. Then we've got the acrobats. Those are my favourites, I think. If I had to choose a favourite, it would be the acrobats. I don't know if you've been to one of the Cirque du Soleil performances i'm sure a lot of the purple people have i mean they are just extraordinary um so an acrobat is a nice name because it's actually a sibling of so many

different words in english so it's from the greek acrobatos which meant walk on tiptoe but if you break that down you've got acron meaning a tip and you will find that in words like acropolis which is the fortified part of a city um famously Athens that was built on top of a hill you've got acrophobia which is a fear of heights you've got an acronym because it's taking the initial or the top letters of a word you've got an acrostic which which is a poem or a puzzle where the first letters in each line form a word. You've actually got acne as well because of the idea of the kind of spots forming a summit. So it's a relative of many, many other words in English that you might not realise, but that's where acro comes from. And the bat part? We've got the acro, the bat?

The bat part is from the Greek banane, meaning to walk. So they are walking up high. What about the jugglers? Yeah, the juggler. I mean, if you had to guess where juggler comes from, you would think it sounds like such an English word, doesn't it? Really? It actually does go back to Latin as well, but via French is so often. But the Latin was very different.

It was joculari, meaning to jest. And of course, that's where we get joke from, joccus so it was to entertain with jesting with tricks etc that was the idea so it was um you know jugglers are providing entertainment through trickery and slight of not trickery but slight of hand and dexterity and dexterity as we know comes back to being right-handed just because we've always had an easier ride the acrobats might perform on the trapeze. Where does trapeze come from? That's simply, that's linked to a trapezium because it's the shape of a trapezium, which is a quadrilateral with, is it one pair of sides that are parallel? And that in turn goes back to, it's Greek again, it goes back to the trapeza, meaning a table. So it's purely because of the shape of a trapeze.

So many of these are Greek, actually. It's interesting, isn't it? Burlesque is one that's not Greek. That actually goes back to the Italian burla or burlesco, meaning ridicule or mockery, because the idea was originally that it was kind of slightly grotesque. And then, of course, went on to meaning sort of mock heroic or mock pathetic, etc. I know you have these reservations about clowns, and I understand them. But it's interesting the way they've become big figures in our culture, or certainly used to be. I mentioned Popov, this famous Russian clown. When I was a little boy,

there was also an English clown called Coco the Clown. Do you remember his name? Oh, yes. He's one I remember. Coco the Clown was hugely famous. He appeared on TV as well as in circuses, in children's comics. There was a little strip about Coco the Clown. And this idea of a famous national clown goes back. I wrote a biography of somebody called Dan Lino, who was known as the funniest man on earth. He was a clown in the sense

that he was a jest. He didn't perform in circuses, he really appeared in musicals, but he was a great pantomime performer. But he was like a national clown. And before him, the most famous clown was probably Joseph Grimaldi, the original Clown Joey. It comes from this character, Joseph Grimaldi, who, in a sense, was one of the founders of modern pantomime as we know it. My favourite story about Clown Joey, and he had his biography, his autobiography was actually ghosted for him by Charles Dickens. That's how famous he was. He was such a big figure. And he suffered from depressive bouts, as sometimes clowns can do. And he went to see his doctor and said, you know, I have these low depressions, I feel, you know, unhappier. And the doctor said, well, I'm not sure what to recommend. I suppose

you could go and, you know, have a laugh, go and see Clown Joey. And Joseph Cromaldi replied, a laugh. Go and see Clown Joey. And Joseph Cromaldi replied, but I am Clown Joey. It's a great story told by Dickens in this biography of Joseph Cromaldi. Are you quite fond of slapstick then? Because I think that's another reason why I'm not too fond of clowns is I'm not very good with slapstick. And we definitely mentioned before, slapstick literally goes back to a literal instrument that clowns would have and they would slap their thighs in kind of hilarity and make a big noise it's just not really me and the origin of clown is quite interesting because it began meaning an unsophisticated country person and then was applied to anybody who was kind of rude or ill-mannered and I think that sort of even though I didn't know the etymology at the time but that kind of idea of someone who's just

very boisterous and loud and extrovert just didn't really sit with me, being sort of quite meek and mild. But you've always loved them, clearly. I understand what you're saying. For example, the clowns in Shakespeare are often the least funny characters. You take a play like As You Like It, Touchstone. I mean, he sings some songs and he has some wordplay, but he's not a battle load of laughs. And I think even if you play Festy in Twelfth Night, which I've done, you're struggling at times to get the house on a roar. It is. And some people sort of groan at the

idea of a clown coming on and being so obviously dressed to be clownish and clown-like. So the root word actually meant a buffoon, did it? A kind of simpleton? Yes, absolutely. And it came from German, so the Germanic word, and it didn't appear in English until the Middle Ages. Then, as I say, it meant a kind of rustic. And as we know, we've always been quite snotty, as we would say, written towards yokels, bumpkins, whatever you like to call them. We thought of the town dwellers, city dwellers, thought of themselves as being urban and urbane and looked down on anyone from the countryside. And so it was with clown.

Who invented the three ring circus? Because that expression has gone into general currency, hasn't it? The three ring circus. I think that's an American phenomenon, where you actually had three rings and acts going on simultaneously in all of them. What's the first use of a, you know, it was like a three rings and acts going on simultaneously in all of them. What's the first use of a, you know, it was like a three ring circus. I don't know.

Can you check that out? I tell you what, it's time for a break. So leave it with me and I will let you know as soon as we're back. Bumble knows it's hard to start conversations. Hey, no, too basic. Hi there. Still no. What about hello, handsome? Who knew you could give yourself the ick that's why bumble is changing how you start conversations you can now make the first move or not with

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to learn all about something that makes me curious. Join me every Wednesday as we set off on a stunning journey of curiosity on a new subject and dive into the archive of more than 370 episodes. Listen to Getting Curious wherever you get your podcasts. We're back. And I promised Giles that I would talk about the origin of three ring circus. A circus that has three rings, as Giles says,

but as a figurative sense of a showy or extravagant spectacle but also a scene of confusion or disorder first mention in the OED is 1898 and actually Barnum is mentioned in the second one Barnum clearly has a three ring had a three circus, and that was 1904. So interesting. I have to say that one's new on me. But as you say, possibly originally American, from American English, but definitely used figuratively now for something that's a bit all over the shop. Do you remember a band called Blue Magic?

Life is a three-ring circus, all of the ups and downs of a carousel that I know so well. Life is a three-ring circus, just one little ride on a merry-go-round, going round and round and round and round. Oh, life is a cabaret, old chap, reminds me. As well as a three-ring circus. So there we go. As well as a three-ring circus. We'll time for some correspondence, which is often my favourite part of the podcast,

because we love reading your emails. And the first comes from Ashene Kisden-Ireland, who introduces us to two fantastic words. And I'm going to test you on these, Judd, see if you've ever heard them. Any idea what a collywomple is? Is it like the collywobbles? I have no idea. No, it sounds brilliantly. But Ashene was introduced to it recently by a friend. It's to walk purposefully towards an as yet unknown destination i have looked this one up machine and as far as i can tell it's pretty much a recent deliberate invention but i absolutely love it and that doesn't make it any less legitimate as a word you won't find it in a

dictionary you'll only find it accompanied with this particular definition which has then been spread but i do love it and the second one Giles is corn noble corn noble any idea what corn noble means corn noble so it's the word corn followed by the word obble oh yeah obble or core I've never corn noble corn noble I've no idea is it nobbling somebody in a curious way no it's it reminds the reason I really like this is it reminds me of con jobble which is a dialect, which Samuel Johnson called a low cant word. He didn't like this one very much, but it's to kind of get together and discuss. But I like to think it's getting together and discussing something over a bite to eat,

to conjobble, which I love. But no, corn wobble is different and it means to slap someone with a fish. Oh, funny. That's terribly funny. That is something a clown would do. They'd produce a bucket and slap you in the face. A corn wobble. That's a lovely word. Corn wobble. Corn wobble. Forgive me. Corn wobble. Even better. And again, you will find this in lots of different online websites, but you won't find it in any dictionary yet. But who knows? I absolutely love that word.

You know that I am now coddy wampling on a daily basis because my friend mr motivator has told me that in order to keep myself upright i must squeeze this mythical orange between my shoulder blades every morning until the juice runs down my spine and then i must walk with purpose lifting my feet as I go toes up toes up I walk with purpose and I will be doing a coddywample doing the squeezing orange thing if I walk like that people would just think me very old no no they wouldn't what you do is sit comfortably but I'm sticking my chest out well that's neither here nor there natural fashion no no well no but this is as you're

much younger than me but as the years go by we tend particularly if we're looking at a screen all day we tend to stoop forward our heads go forward and this corrects it so i'm suggesting you walk all the time like this just to correct it you just stand up and i'll squeeze that picture an orange between your shoulder blades squeeze it squeeze it squeeze that orange come on suzy squeeze the orange until the juice... Is it supposed to hurt? Is the juice trickling down your spine? I have...

I've got a black back roller that does pretty much the same thing. Look how much better your posture is. No need for an expensive back roller. You've just got a fantasy orange between your shoulder blades. The juice is... And look, beautiful posture there.

Now... Yeah, but pained face. Walk with purpose. That's it. Walk with purpose. That's Coddy Wampum's it walk with purpose that's coddy one okay next email came from chris bowman who has said that in conversation recently he heard the word left in tatters which is a quite a standard british english phrase and i suspect also many other englishes across the globe and he's wondering where it comes from. Quite simple, this one, actually, Chris. It was given to us by the Vikings. So it was the Old Norse, totur, was a tatter.

And that is related to an Old English word meaning a rag and also an Old German word, zotter, which meant matted hair. So the idea is of things that are kind of very, again, dishevelled, matted together or just ragged in some way. And that's where Tata comes from, but it's incredibly old. And have you got a trio of incredibly old, or at least incredibly interesting words to share with us? I do. I have three words for you. The first is quite tricky to say, The first is quite tricky to say, but deliberately so, I think. It's quad libertarian. And a quad libertarian is an insult for a pedantic blowhard, somebody who argues over every single point. A quad libertarian. What's the origin? Why is it a quad libertarian? So you will find it in the OED. This is not an entirely made, well, obviously

every word is made up, but it goes back a long way. It's got history. It goes back to the 17th century. And a quad libet, which is Q-U-O-D-L-I-B-E-T, was an academic exercise that you'd find in university in which a master or a bachelor would discuss questions on a subject so it's basically arguing like a sort of proper academic debate and the quad is what and libet means it pleases so you talk about what you know whatever you like in other words but that has been extended to somebody who disputes you know kind of all the time and just engages in these kind of arguments for the sake of them, really, as they please, if that makes sense. It does make sense. Totally. The second one is, there's lots of different variations on this one, so I suspect the purple people will

have their own version of this, but trantlums or trantles, there's also tranclements, those are kind of just bric-a-brac, miscellaneous objects of the type that you as a hoarder, Giles, probably have in abundance. Lots of tranquilments in your house, I suspect. I like that. Tranquilments. And the last one is rather characteristic of British weather in that we've had quite a few thunder plumps, which I've mentioned before over the summer, but over the year, really. The weather has been fulminous. And fulminous weather is with lots of thunder and lightning, but the word is more often than not applied figuratively or metaphorically to something that resembles thunder and lightning. So you might have a

fulminous argument if it's just, you know, quite a heavy and loud and not particularly enjoyable one, I would say. It's like fulminating, isn't it? It's like fulminating. Is it derived from... Yes. It's the same idea? Yes, absolutely. Same idea.

You might get the fulminous roar of a jet engine, that kind of thing. So as I say, used mostly in a figurative sense. So to fulminate, originally meant to emit thunder and lightning as of the sky, but then was used for condemnation. So if somebody fulminated, they're just basically condemning. And again, brings us right back to that idea of criticising all the time. Have you a poem for us? Before I give you my poem, I'm going to do a bit of name dropping, because people do get in touch to say, there wasn't much name dropping last week. Have you run out of names?

No, I've not run out of names, but sometimes I forget the names I want to drop. This is what Anno Domini does. But today, I've been reminded of a game that I love playing and that I know we've played before, which is, who have you met at one remove? You know, and I often say how I was a friend of Christopher Robin, the real Christopher Robin Milne. So I shook the hand that held a friend of Christopher Robin, the real Christopher Robin Milne. So I shook the hand that held the port of Winnie the Pooh. But today, another one has come up. Lenin was mentioned. This is pretty impressive by my standards. Pop off the clown. I actually met

in person. He shook my hand when I was a little boy in 1956. I can't pretend that I met Lenin, because he died many years before I was born. Nor did I meet Trotsky. But at one remove but one, perhaps I did. Because researching my new autobiography, Childhood Memoir, Odd Boy Out, I was looking through a box of photographs, and I came across a picture of me in my gap year, visiting an old man in America. And I'm shaking hands with this old man in the photograph. And his father, this old man's father, turned out to be the head of the Communist Party in England in the 1920s. And this old man had a photograph of himself as a child on his father's shoulders,

next to Stalin. And Stalin is shaking hands with this child, and I am shaking hands with the child who is now a man. So at one remove, I have shaken the hand of Stalin, Joseph Stalin, which at two removes means I've shaken the hand of Trotsky, of Lenin, you name it. I am almost the personification of the Russian revolution. That's, yeah, that is amazing. I have to think about who I, I don't think I can. I never can anyway. Well, maybe that's a bit of homework for next week.

Will you do that? Will you do some homework? At one remove, somebody you've met, so that at one remove, it's somebody remarkable. And if you can beat Stalin and Lenin, I will be impressed. I won't. I absolutely won't. I certainly have got a poem for you. And I mentioned, I know, last week, when we were talking about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, I taught English at a school in America in the 1960s, during my gap year. And that's when I

discovered Emily Dickinson. She was a New England poet in Victorian times, and she wrote short, simple poems that didn't really become famous until after she died. And this is one of her short poems. It's written like a letter, a correspondence between two quite unlikely creatures. It's basically a fly writing to a bee. And this is how the correspondence goes. It's a poem called Bee, I'm Expecting You. It's by Emily Dickinson.

Be, I'm expecting you. Was saying yesterday to somebody you know that you were due. The frogs got home last week, are settled and at work. Birds mostly back, the clover warm and thick. You'll get my letter by the 17th. Birds, mostly back. The clover, warm and thick. You'll get my letter by the 17th. Reply, or better, be with me. Yours, Fly.

She was extraordinary. Emily Dickinson described beautifully in a poem called A Formal Feeling. Do you know that one? And it's about the numbness or the paralysis that comes after great pain or great grief. This is the hour of lead, first chill, then stupor, then the letting go. And it's just beautiful. A formal feeling is that sort of numbness. She was a remarkable poet, I think. The most remarkable poet and also so modern, so accessible. Born 1830, died 1886, lived almost, for getting in touch with us as well. And if you would like to still, the email address is purple at somethingelse.com. Something Rhymes with Purple is a Something Else production produced by Lawrence Bassett and Harriet Wells, with additional production

from Steve Ackerman, Ella McLeod, Jay Beale, and our very own resident clown, Itz. It's Gully. Don't you just want to cornobble him sometimes? Yes. It's actually not a bad name for a clown. Gully the Clown.