If I’d gotten for a middle name at Christening my father’s mother’s name, rather than my mother’s father’s name, I’d be Dave Swift Read. And as soon as I’d learned the exploits of Jonathan Swift, I’d have staked a claim to be his direct descendant. Instead, I can do no more than imagine him my ancestor, if not entirely my role model.
In three hundred years, no more eloquent polemic has appeared than A Modest Proposal. In the master’s hands, figurative language is deadly. All others would be wise to keep their use of metaphor to a bare minimum; burps and farts sound better than dead metaphors do.
Yesterday, I titled the first entry here “Poet?,” which looks pompous of me, but since turning seventy, no longer do I give a shit about appearances!* Today, I e-stumble across this Swift verse:
“Sir, I admit your general rule,
That every poet is a fool;
But you yourself may serve to show it,
That every fool is not a poet.”
Read more about the verse and it’s several claims of authorship -> at the Quote Investigator.
*With the raisin-up I had though, It’d take exert extra effort for me to go outdoors looking sloppy.