Saturday, January 01, 2011

The importance of being Oscar


Miss Prism. Do not speak slightingly of the three-volume novel, Cecily. I wrote one myself in earlier days.
Cecily. Did you really, Miss Prism? How wonderfully clever you are! I hope it did not end happily? I don’t like novels that end happily. They depress me so much.
Miss Prism. The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what Fiction means.

What does it mean that both Oscar Wilde and the Three Stooges make me laugh out loud? Repeatedly.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

GWENDOLEN [rising in indignation] You have filled my tea with lumps of sugar, and though I asked most distinctly for bread and butter, you have given me cake. I am known for the gentleness of my disposition, and the extraordinary sweetness of my nature, but I must warn you, Miss Cardew, you may go too far.

CECILY [rises] To save my poor, innocent, trusting boy from the machinations of any other girl there are no lengths to which I would not go. [makes a V of her two first fingers, and pokes Gwedolen’s eyes, simultaneously popping out the lens of her lorgnette]

Could work.

--Nathan

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