Sign in with Facebookmaricar's Reviews > In His Own Write
In His Own Write
by John Lennon, Yoko Ono
by John Lennon, Yoko Ono
I didn’t understand half of it! Haha! But that brief experience was still enjoyable :)
I know I’m commenting on this piece of work from a biased perspective (am a Fab Four fan…and proud of it, babe ;-) ), so if that’s not gonna help…don’t bother reading on…
Am always have been in awe of Lennon – with and post-McCartney, his musical intellect is undeniable. Added to that awe is a smidgen of a feeling of intimidation. Video footage of live interviews as well as chronicles of people who were, in some way, part of the Beatles entourage back then rarely fail to give proof of his acerbic and sarcastic sensibilities.
And then there are his bouts of spastic facial and bodily movements in front of the camera, deliberately garbled half-mutterings, and forays into puns (i.e. “Hi, I’m John, and I, too, play the guitar; sometimes I play the fool…”).
In His Own Write is yet another proof of his unique sense of humor – a blending of bits of satire, the macabre, and the eminently whimsical.
But what really makes this little book stand out (besides the iconic drawings), is his twists of phrases and words (and letters within words) which allude to some quite-mad ramblings, but actually make sense… In a way, this could be a sort of evidence on how differently “wired” he may have been compared to most people.
Examples (btw, emphases mine):
(from At the Denis)
“Sir: Sly down in that legchair Madam and open your gorble wide – your mouse is all but toothless […:] Everydobby knows there are foor decisives two canyons and ten grundies, which make thirsty two in all.”
(from Nicely Nicely Clive)
“To have and to harm…till death duty part…he knew it all by hertz. Clive Barrow seemed oblivious. Roger could visualize Anne in her flowing weddy drag, being wheeled up the aisle, smiling a blessing. He had butterfield in his stomarce as he fastened his bough tie and brushed his hairs…”
(from Unhappy Frank)
“ ‘Don’t like that chair one bit,’ he showbedy. ‘Just look at that garbet all filby and durby. How am I supposed to look affaffter all this garby ruddish. Wart am I but a slave tow look upon with deesekfrebit all the peegle larfing and buzing me in front of all the worled. How can I but garry on?’…”
My favorite bits are I Sat Belonely, Sad Michael, and The Fat Growth on Eric Hearble.
Half of the time, of course (as I’ve said), I don’t have a clue as to what he’s saying. His Liverpudlian sense of humor and slang is often lost on me. Which, of course, shouldn’t be a problem to those who are familiar with it. In my case, I guess that was just the only thing hampering me from totally enjoying it. Otherwise, it’s a nice way to pass the time – you ponder first the words, and then what the hell he’s saying…
All I can say (belatedly) is that part of the humor here is going to be an acquired taste. And if that means having to read In His Own Write again and again, well, then, is that so bad?
Lemme think… uhmm…no! :)
I know I’m commenting on this piece of work from a biased perspective (am a Fab Four fan…and proud of it, babe ;-) ), so if that’s not gonna help…don’t bother reading on…
Am always have been in awe of Lennon – with and post-McCartney, his musical intellect is undeniable. Added to that awe is a smidgen of a feeling of intimidation. Video footage of live interviews as well as chronicles of people who were, in some way, part of the Beatles entourage back then rarely fail to give proof of his acerbic and sarcastic sensibilities.
And then there are his bouts of spastic facial and bodily movements in front of the camera, deliberately garbled half-mutterings, and forays into puns (i.e. “Hi, I’m John, and I, too, play the guitar; sometimes I play the fool…”).
In His Own Write is yet another proof of his unique sense of humor – a blending of bits of satire, the macabre, and the eminently whimsical.
But what really makes this little book stand out (besides the iconic drawings), is his twists of phrases and words (and letters within words) which allude to some quite-mad ramblings, but actually make sense… In a way, this could be a sort of evidence on how differently “wired” he may have been compared to most people.
Examples (btw, emphases mine):
(from At the Denis)
“Sir: Sly down in that legchair Madam and open your gorble wide – your mouse is all but toothless […:] Everydobby knows there are foor decisives two canyons and ten grundies, which make thirsty two in all.”
(from Nicely Nicely Clive)
“To have and to harm…till death duty part…he knew it all by hertz. Clive Barrow seemed oblivious. Roger could visualize Anne in her flowing weddy drag, being wheeled up the aisle, smiling a blessing. He had butterfield in his stomarce as he fastened his bough tie and brushed his hairs…”
(from Unhappy Frank)
“ ‘Don’t like that chair one bit,’ he showbedy. ‘Just look at that garbet all filby and durby. How am I supposed to look affaffter all this garby ruddish. Wart am I but a slave tow look upon with deesekfrebit all the peegle larfing and buzing me in front of all the worled. How can I but garry on?’…”
My favorite bits are I Sat Belonely, Sad Michael, and The Fat Growth on Eric Hearble.
Half of the time, of course (as I’ve said), I don’t have a clue as to what he’s saying. His Liverpudlian sense of humor and slang is often lost on me. Which, of course, shouldn’t be a problem to those who are familiar with it. In my case, I guess that was just the only thing hampering me from totally enjoying it. Otherwise, it’s a nice way to pass the time – you ponder first the words, and then what the hell he’s saying…
All I can say (belatedly) is that part of the humor here is going to be an acquired taste. And if that means having to read In His Own Write again and again, well, then, is that so bad?
Lemme think… uhmm…no! :)
Sign into Goodreads to see if any of your friends have read In His Own Write.
sign in »
