Jellicle cats come out tonight
Jellicle cats come one come all:
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright -
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball. . .
I’m quoting a far, far better writer than I could ever hope to be. T. S. Eliot’s poetry such as “The Wasteland” and “The Hollow Men” for which he won the Nobel Prize in 1948 is serious stuff. I consider him, Robert Frost and Edna St. Vincent Millay, to be the 20th Century’s greatest poets. His Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats upon which the Broadway musical is based shows another side to him. (Fellow writer, James Joyce, nicknamed him “Old Possum.”)
Oh good grief! One critic says that Eliot imitated Dante’s “Inferno.” Perhaps that’s true. However, he also asserts that “Cats” is modeled on Dante and represents an ascension into Heaven and descent into Hell. What twaddle!
Eliot wrote the book for his grandchildren. I think that it’s the whimsy of a cat lover and imaginative poet who delighted in the sound of words such as “Jellicle” that he invented. He wrote:
The Naming of Cats is a
difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your
holiday games;
You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey–
All of them sensible
everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter . . .
Such as Plato, Admetus,
Electra, Demeter–
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular
A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified.
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
But above and beyond there’s still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover–
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess . . .
One of Eliot’s cats was named “Old Deuteronomy.” I named my beloved tomcat “Pinky Thomas” after a Knightstown lady. My sister’s family prematurely named their cat “Mister C.” She had several litters of very pretty kittens. Ann’s cats have the southern tradition of a double name. One is Gracie Jolene; Gina Peachpaw has one peach-colored paw; and another is Sydney Gemima. I wish I’d named Ms. Kalico Kitty “Lucinda Georgina” after a Knightstown teacher and the prof who taught me French.
Although not black and white like Eliot’s Jellicles, Kalie is one in spirit. Eliot wrote,
They like to practise their airs and graces . . .
They know how to dance a gavotte and a jig.
Until the Jellicle Moon appears
They make their toilette and take their repose:
Jellicle Cats wash behind their ears,
Jellicles dry between their toes . . .
Jellicle Cats jump like a jumping-jack,
Jellicle Cats have moonlit eyes . . .
If it happens the sun is shining bright
You would say they had nothing to do at all:
They are resting and saving themselves to be right
For the Jellicle Moon and the Jellicle Ball.
Kalie scrupulously washes even if she eats only one bite. Her huge, golden, “moonlit” eyes see everything, and she jumps ever so high. I know that we’re going to have trouble when warm weather arrives because she’ll be frantic to get outside and yowl and dance with the other Jellicles.
I understand Eliot’s ball. When I was a girl people let their cats roam outdoors. Our windows were open as air conditioning didn’t exist. The caterwauling of cats in the middle of the night enraged my father. A classic cartoon shows a man hurling a boot at cats perched on a fence.
Next time: How Ms Kalico and I nearly got into dreadful trouble with Bill. Also, Act 2: Enter a dog. I predict a major hissy fit. wclarke@comcast.net