The Lives of Victorian Writers Told in Limericks

InterestingLiterature

9 years ago

The literary lives of twelve famous Victorians, told in the poetic form they knew so well

Nobody knows for sure why limericks are named limericks. They’re obviously named in honour of Limerick, the city in Ireland, but beyond that nothing is known for certain about why a five-line comic poem should be so named. But the limerick is probably the most recognisable poetic form: ask people to name the usual number of lines in a sonnet or villanelle, and you’ll doubtless find some who are in the know, but many will be unable to say for sure. Conversely, it is almost universally known that a limerick is five lines long, with the first, second, and fifth lines usually rhyming (and, to complement this, the third and fourth lines).

As limericks were such a favourite literary pastime of the Victorians – as attested by the popularity of Edward Lear’s limericks in his Book of Nonsense (1846) – we’ve set ourselves the task of writing some limericks about Victorian writers. The results of our efforts are documented below. Where possible, we’ve tried to incorporate biographical facts into the poems, such as Thomas Carlyle’s dyspepsia, but this has not always been easy – so sometimes, I’m afraid, we’ve fallen back on a bit of good old-fashioned absurdist nonsense. In our defence, such a strain of nonsense is a staple of the limerick form as it was practised by the Victorians. Anyway, we hope you enjoy these.

There once was a woman named Braddon

Whose writing would frequently madden

The critics and booers

Like George Henry Lewes

Who’d read her, but wished that he hadn’.

There once was a writer named Carroll

Who would pen little poems in a barrel.

When he’d done an acrostic

He would then light a joss stick

While wearing some gaudy apparel.

There once was a writer, Carlyle,

Who seldom, if ever, would smile.

Known for Sartor Resartus

He was king of the farters

When dyspepsia plagued him awhile.

There once was a writer named Stoker

Who was known as a practical joker.

He teased H. G. Wells

With unfathomable smells

And would taunt Oscar Wilde with a poker.

There once was a man, Bulwer-Lytton,

Who penned the worst line ever written.

He gave Bovril its name

But the bulk of his fame

Rests on being as weak as a kitten.

There once was a man, Rider Haggard,

Who was known as a right little blackguard.

King Solomon’s Mines

Was the least of his crimes

As from barroom to barroom he staggered.

A writer named Emily Brontë

Had a passionate fling with Tom Conti.

On their rapturous nights

She’d reach wuthering heights

Crying YES like the Man from Del Monte.

There once was a fellow named Hardy

Who ordered a triple Bacardi.

He knocked it right back,

Got as drunk as a sack,

And arrived home that night rather tardy.

There once was a writer named Thackeray

Who ordered a raspberry daiquiri.

The lime made him smart

(It was bitter and tart)

And his face ended up somewhat lacquery.

There once was a woman named Gaskell

Whose dislike of Ian McCaskill

Reached the end of its tether

When he read out the weather

And she called him a right little rascal.

There once was a poet named Browning

Whose wife was perpetually frowning.

He bought her a clean

And new trampoline

And now she is upping and downing.

A young man they called Conan Doyle

Was always found covered in oil.

When old Joseph Bell

Once exclaimed, ‘What the hell…?’

He replied, ‘Let me come to the boil.’

So there we are. But what writers have we left off? And do you have any of your own limericks about writers? If you enjoyed this piece of Victoriana, have a look at our interesting post on 10 classic Victorian novels everyone should read.

There is one glaring omission from our selection above: Edward Lear himself. So if you have a suggested limerick about him, we’d love to hear it.

Image: Cover for A Book of Nonsense by Edward Lear (ca 1875 James Miller edition), Wikimedia Commons, public domain.