THE BAB BALLADS

 

Yes, of course, all of us, the Gilbert (and Sullivan) devotees at very least, know the Bab Ballads.

Well, that is not quite semantically correct. We know 'of' the Bab Ballads. I had a nice red-covered volume on my shelves for decades ... it doesn't seem to be there now. I guess it emigrated to America with most of my other stuff. Had I read it? Waaaaaaaal. Yes, I had dipped in it to see, for myself, the handful of poems which spawned or influenced the comic operas but ... no, truthfully, I hadn't ventured further. And I'll wager that a lot of folk are in the same case as I!

But this week a not-so-slim paperbacked volume arrived. THE BAB BALLADS, a new selection. Selection? Were there that many that a volume of this size could only hold a selection? The short answer is 'yes'. I don't know how many there, officially, were. I don't think, perhaps, Gilbert did. Anyway there has, apparently, been a scholarly American tome which collects together all those designated as Bab.  Here, Andrew Crowther has selected forty odd. Which is a good idea. 

Enough is enough. It's like a box of chox. A few at a time are delicious. To eat the whole lot, one after another (and they're all caramel creams!) provokes a challenged digestion. In my opinion, they should be tasted, a few at a time, preferably in chronological order. A perfect bedside book, or for the water closet, when one lingers a little while.

Yesterday, a fine spring day, all the four winds in the heavens decided to beat down on Sefton, NZ. Trees came crashing down in series, Mr Peacock's high-up perch came tumbling to the ground and .. of course .. multiple electric lines came unglued from their posts. No electricity, no water, no wifi, no TV (and it was election day, teehee) ... But I am from the pre-TV and wifi era. I have lived, in my time, without electricity and water. I lit some candles, opened the gin, loafed into my LaZBoy and ... picked up Mr Crowther's book of chox. 

And I devoured all forty plus.  

Forty helpings of WSG's comical caramel creams. I must admit, as I neared the end, I was appreciating what I was reading less fully than at the beginning. Which was a shame, because some of the most effective poems come towards the end. But that will teach me to be gourmand.

One can't really 'review' the poems, a century and a half on. They were 'of their time', that time when burlesque humour was all the rage, and when magazines and newspapers published poetic pieces of varying degrees of value (or none) daily, weekly, monthly ...  Enough to say that Gilbert's funny tales proved highly popular in the 1860s and set him up for his well-known career in the theatre.

What one can review, is this edition. And I wholeheartedly recommend it. The wrapping on the chocolate box is perfect. A two-page piece on Gilbert himself, for those who are meeting him for the first time. And a ten-page introduction to the poems, full of fascinating fact, written in clear and comprehensible language with nary a taint of the University essay about it.  Oh! That all introductions were as unpretentious and informative. The footnotes or, rather, backnotes, are not too numerous, and not too wordy, and are definitely needed to explain certain current and geographical terms (even *I* had to look up one!), and the chronological listing (2pp) is an interesting aid.

So, amn't I going to say anything about the poems? No. It's all been said. I'll just say that my favourite was the tale of 'Brave Alum Bey', and the murderous 'Gentle Alice Brown' was particularly good fun, and that 'Etiquette' reminded me of Our Island Home (which folk have doubtless perceived before me!) and that if this is 'satire' ... well, I'd call it Jolly Good Fun rather than Juvenal. 

So to anyone who has skimped -- as I had -- on the BAB BALLADS: this edition, from Renard Press, is, in my opinion, ideal. A perfectly packed box of chox.