Twain
Hey Folks,
I’ve been re-reading Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur’s Court and sharing pieces of Twain’s political commentary with you here (this is the 21st entry) .
His insights remain pertinent to this day. We haven’t changed much from Twain’s day – or from King Arthur’s, for that matter.
Chapter 39 - The plot thickens. The Yankee had intended to defeat Sir Sagramour and the other knights who would inevitably enter the lists against him, one after the other, by the harmless use of a lasso. And so he does until Lancelot, the greatest of them all, and the last remaining challenger, takes the field and begins his charge.
“In that moment, down came the Invincible, with the rush of a whirlwind – the courtly world rose to its feet and bent forward – the fateful coils went circling through the air, and before you could wink I was towing Sir Launcelot across the field on his back, and kissing my hand to the storm of waving handkerchiefs and the thunder-crash of applause that greeted me!
Said I to myself, as I coiled my lariat and hung it on my saddle-horn, and sat there drunk with glory, ‘The victory is perfect – no other will venture against me – knight-errantry is dead.” Now imagine my astonishment – and everybody else’s, too – to hear the peculiar bugle call which announces that another competitor is about to enter the lists!”
I’ve been re-reading Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur’s Court and sharing pieces of Twain’s political commentary with you here (this is the 21st entry) .
His insights remain pertinent to this day. We haven’t changed much from Twain’s day – or from King Arthur’s, for that matter.
Chapter 39 - The plot thickens. The Yankee had intended to defeat Sir Sagramour and the other knights who would inevitably enter the lists against him, one after the other, by the harmless use of a lasso. And so he does until Lancelot, the greatest of them all, and the last remaining challenger, takes the field and begins his charge.
“In that moment, down came the Invincible, with the rush of a whirlwind – the courtly world rose to its feet and bent forward – the fateful coils went circling through the air, and before you could wink I was towing Sir Launcelot across the field on his back, and kissing my hand to the storm of waving handkerchiefs and the thunder-crash of applause that greeted me!
Said I to myself, as I coiled my lariat and hung it on my saddle-horn, and sat there drunk with glory, ‘The victory is perfect – no other will venture against me – knight-errantry is dead.” Now imagine my astonishment – and everybody else’s, too – to hear the peculiar bugle call which announces that another competitor is about to enter the lists!”
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