The Bit With The Pickle

8 May


Cramming lines with the same unusability in daily verbiage as Shakespeare, without the help of a meter.

…And run-ons from hell that even make this pot, call the kettle “black.”

Add in the extremely cultured dialect of the upper crust and it just gets ridiculously chewy.  Delicious sentences to read, and speak, but not to commit to memory.  The exceptions and strange specific placing of certain words after others, (which do not necessarily go together and/or trip you up), is a constant.

…And I don’t even have the worst ones.  Those jewels of unfathomability belong (for the most part) to my dear “Mamma.”

However, I do have my fair share. Things like:

“…That is clearly a metaphysical speculation, and like most metaphysical speculations has very little reference at all to the actual facts of real life, as we know them.”

…Which means careful attention to delivery, or it all rolls into a ball of total nonsense to the listener, and might as well be in Hindi for all the relatability it have to the American audience ear.

…So then finding the rhythm is necessary, (though it is constantly changing speed and texture.)

…Which means hashing the script to bits, breaking down the text into bite-sized pieces to properly chew, digest and (ultimately) memorize (please God.)

Then, of course, you also have the bit-pieces…and rim-shots as well. Like:

“I never change, except in my affections.”


“The suspense is terrible.  I hope it will last.”

They are peppered amongst the extremely formal sentence structure, at (what appears) total random.

…Which somehow makes both funnier, for their direct contrast.

(There is, of course, nothing “random” about it.  Every sentence is measured and set specifically. By a master.)

It’s like that bastard actually knew what he was doing when he wrote it!

I love that well-over 100 years later, it is still laugh-out-loud funny.  And clever.  And sexual.  And enticing.  But can still hop a-pace lithely on it’s toes, peopled in a world which somehow accommodates foppish men-children, mistaken identities, sexual farce, and ball-busting dowagers, in a society of manners, with men-servants, multiple secret engagements, feather-brained tutors and a baby in a handbag…all at the same time.

…Which reminds me:

Built the trailer today. 

A new favorite. 

…Have to wait-out the weekend before I can post it.  The theatre gets dibs on it’s premiere. 

…M’favorite bit is with the pickle.

…Which I’ll just leave hangin’ out there for you to try and figure out. (Though, you won’t.)

Cuz I’m mean that way.



2 Responses to “The Bit With The Pickle”

  1. Britt May 15, 2013 at 12:45 am #

    Ah, Gwendolyn, I feel for you! My current killer phrase is “excites the inner epidermal gland”, which is barely a fraction of what Wilde has thrown to you. You can do it!!

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