The NYT has an interesting article in their opinionator blog about the connection between writers and naturalists: they are both discovering or describing new worlds. Both are explorers. One of imaginary worlds; one of real.
I've long been a fan of Lear's nonsense verse. The article in the NYT said it wasn't very "edifying." I've never much cared for that word. It's a smug and judgmental word. And it's never good when it's approaching you in a sentence.
I have a different take.
Edward Lear's work is pure genius and as a 7 year old (when I was first given THE COMPLETE NONSENSE) it opened a whole new world to me. And changed mine.
Just the title THE COMPLETE NONSENSE for a start. Plus he wrote AND illustrated it himself--with pen and ink drawings that were not neat but all scratchy and messy with ink blots and looked like something you yourself could try (and I did). And the funny verse--with the limericks you felt you could have a go at too (and I did). It was exuberant, joyful, free.
I'd never come across a book like it. I didn't know it was allowed. To have that much fun--to be that silly--inside a book. I still don't always. And have to remind myself every day that it is.
Both as naturalist and children's writer/illustrator, Lear was dealing in the wild--but it is in his children's books, with his wild and free imagination, that he reached me as a child.
So I am grateful for Edward Lear. And his imagination. It freed mine.
If that isn't "edifying", then I am quite certain I want nothing to do with whatever is.
