Have you ever heard of William McGonagall, a famous Scottish poet of the 19th Century?*
Poor Will had a wicked reputation for writing about Public Tragedy with so much pathos that his listeners would laugh…or moan! I first read his poem about the Tay Bridge collapse of 1879 in my dog-eared guide book while I stood on the bridge near Dundee–pregnant, hot, and nauseated. Perhaps it was our recent visit to the statue of the Loyal Terrier (see Greyfriar’s Bobby) that made my heart well in sympathy for this Creator of Doggerel (already a very sad use of the word “dog” in connection with verse).
But I like McGonagall, and that’s a fact!
Now a poet-friend, Scott Miller, has forwarded me this latest bit of news from Friday’s BBC Online:
“McGonagall, who died in 1902, was often mocked and had food thrown at him during readings in Dundee,” the paper reports.
Let’s all raise a glass today to William Topaz McGonagall (yup, the middle name’s “Topaz”), a poet who valiantly tried to tell stories in rhymed couplets, and whose day has finally arrived.
-J.F.
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