Best of Myles
Page 46
Bye-bye, 10 (to the power of 79).
Mind that step!
I HAVE BEEN INTERESTED in a newspaper report of a lecture given in Dublin recently by a Belfast medical man on the upright posture of man. ‘The lecturer said that that posture had been arrived at only in modern man. He showed that it had to be developed by each individual after birth …’ But not to all modern men does the upright posture come readily. I could give chapter and verse, name the man, the street and the time. I know plenty of … old-fashioned gents. Upright, is it? Never heard of it.
Scientists use words oddly. ‘Modern’ in the above context presumably means about 4000 B.C.; otherwise how could one explain the splayed ungainly feet that have been fashionable for some time. Is the world itself in existence so long? I doubt it and certainly hope not.
But surely it would be more to the point if scientists could explain why man born on the flat, thought fit to stand up. It is true that even the babies of today—one obviously cannot call them modern babies—have to develop the upright posture individually after birth. Presumably attempts to do this before birth were unsuccessful. In other words, all babies learn to walk. The remarkable thing is that they all succeed—or at all events those who fail are rarely seen out of doors in after life. In a way, it is all rather a pity. Man’s capacity for mischief certainly did not diminish when he stood up. Consider how the world would look today if he had remained on all fours. Everything would look flattened; houses would be a few feet in height, mahogany counters would be unknown, football would be unheard of, T.D.’s would fight for beds instead of seats, and if one of them managed to rise on a point of order he would be regarded as an acrobat rather than a statesman. And that vertical brawl, the stand-up fight, would be a thing of the future.
Yes, I agree. Not very funny.
TIME: Friday night.
Sets alarm clock for 3 a.m. Saturday morning, dresses hastily and cycles into town. Dismounts at Irish Times office, drenched to the skin. Obtains first copy of paper to come off press. Cycles home, pulls wife out of bed to make breakfast, then disappears into back room to study crossword puzzle. Thumbs dictionaries, almanacs, anthologies, thesauri. Begins to get odd words out one by one. Has breakfast. Goes back to work on puzzle. Is still working at it as day wears on. Claws at stubbly face, stares, lies back, grunts, walks to window and looks out. Gives sharp cry and writes down word. Paces room, hunches shoulders, has both cigarette and pipe going simultaneously. Dog yawns noisily, is kicked savagely in ribs. Another word comes. Rolls up trousers and examines knee. Lolls, protrudes denture on tip of tongue, rubs palms together violently. Cracks finger joints. Gives pop-eyed stare at wall, writes down another word. Pares finger nails. Removes slippers and socks and starts doctoring corn. Whistles The Lanty Girl. Writes down further word. Has lunch on tray, cannot leave room to have it properly. Sharpens pencil. Gets two words simultaneously. Keeps on and on and on.
Time: Saturday night.
Arrives at golf club clean, freshly shaved, with five half ones on board. Is approached by studious confrère.
Did you see the Times crossword today?
No. I didn’t see a paper at all today. What about it?
Well, it’s pretty stiff this week. (Produces paper.) I’ve spent hours at it and can’t get it out at all. Wasted the whole morning on it. I think some of the clues must be wrong.
I thought last week’s was easy enough.
You did? Well, look at this one. ‘Exhausted at reports,’ 9 letters. What could that be?
(Very slight pause.)
Um … PROSTRATE, I suppose.
Ohhh! (Sensation.) Begob, you’re quick at it. And 2 down here, five letters …
* * *
*Not my own joke, however.
*i.e. licensed drinkers (publisher’s note).
*i.e. Quidnunc, the name used by the Irish Times columnist.
*Such references (passim) indicated the editorial columns of the Irish Times.
If you enjoyed Best of Myles, check out these other great Flann O’Brien titles.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
THE publishers would like to express their thanks to the Editor and Proprietors of The Irish Times, in whose pages the contents of this book originally appeared, for their co-operation and help.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brian O’Nolan wrote under the pen names of Flann O’Brien and Myles na Gopaleen. He was born in 1911 in Co. Tyrone. A resident of Dublin, he graduated from University College after a brilliant career as a student (editing a magazine called Blather), and joined the Civil Service, in which he eventually attained a senior position. He died in Dublin on 1 April 1966. His novels include At Swim-Two-Birds, The Dalkey Archive, The Third Policeman, and The Poor Mouth (originally published in Irish as An Béal Bocht).
ALSO BY THE AUTHOR
The Third Policeman
At Swim-Two-Birds
The Hard Life
The Poor Mouth
The Dalkey Archive
Stories and Plays
The Various Lives of Keats and Chapman and The Brother
The Hair of the Dogma
Further Cuttings from Cruiskeen Lawn
Myles Away from Dublin
Myles Before Myles
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