Martyrology Book 5. bp Nichol

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       the martyrology

      ‘In so moche that in my dayes happened that certayn marchauntes were in a shippe in tamyse, for to have scyled over the sea into zelande, and for lack of wynde, thei taryed atte forlond, and wente to lande for to refreshe them. And one of theym named Sheffelde, a mercer, came in-to an hows and axed for mete, and specyally he axed after egges. And the goode wyf answerede that she could speke no frenshe. And the marchaunt was angry for he also coude speke no frenshe, but wolde have hadde egges, and she undcrstode hym not. And thenne at laste a nother sayd that he wold have eyren. Then the good wyf sayd that she understood him wel. Loo, what sholde a man in thyse days now wryte, egges or eyren. Certaynly it is harde to playse every man be cause of dyvcrsite & chaunge in langage.’

      WILLIAM CAXTON

      ‘The greatest literary masterpiece is no more than an alphabet in disorder.’

      JEAN COCTEAU

      the martyrology

      Book 5

       Bp nichol

      dear bp

      Thank you for your note. It came in the mail on the same day D. Barbour was showing Sons of Captain Poetry, so I went and saw it, really excellent. It was weird seeing it, a flash of the past: naturally I recognized the various bit players – Stuart and Sally McKinnon, Wayne Clifford (the volleyball game) are Kingston neighbours and the movie showed them before I met them – genuine pre-nostalgia. And flashes of the Coach House, Victor in palmier days. It was also weird to hear bits of The Martyrology that far back and I had a sudden image of your poetry capturing you like the Minotaur in the labyrinth – and started wondering what is the relationship of someone to the mythology they make up? Anyway.

      Best, Matt.

      still

      for Lea

      still