Wyrd Sisters - Страница 55

17

Terry invented this title; he has not written any words to it (apart from the fragments that appear in the novels); but many fans (including a folk singer called Heather Wood) have; and there did turn out to exist an old Oxford drinking song that also uses the key phrase of the hedgehog song. See the Song … section in Chapter 5 for one documented version of that song (below). Terry pleads parallel evolution, and observes that: “There is a certain, how shall I put it, natural cadence to the words.”

Readers of alt.fan.pratchett have also engaged in a collective songwriting effort, the results of which can be found in the Pratchett Archives (see Chapter 6 for details), in the file /pub/pratchett/misc/hedgehog-song. See also Chapter 5 for a sample.

* The Song.

The one song that all Discworld fans will be familiar with, is of course Nanny Ogg’s favourite ballad: ‘The Hedgehog Can Never Be Buggered At All’ (see also the annotation for p. 36/35 of Wyrd Sisters).

I will start this section with the complete text to the song that might have been the prototype for the hedgehog-song—except that it wasn’t. It can be found in Michael Green’s book Why Was He Born So Beautiful and Other Rugby Songs (1967, Sphere UK), it is called ‘The Sexual Life of the Camel’, it probably dates back to the 1920s/30s, and it goes:

The carnal desires of the camel
Are stranger than anyone thinks,
For this passionate but perverted mammal
has designs on the hole of the Sphinx,
But this deep and alluring depression
Is oft clogged by the sands of the Nile,
Which accounts for the camel’s expression
And the Sphinx’s inscrutable smile.
In the process of Syphilization
From the anthropoid ape down to man
It is generally held that the Navy
Has buggered whatever it can.
Yet recent extensive researches
By Darwin and Huxley and Ball
Conclusively prove that the hedgehog
Has never been buggered at all.
And further researches at Oxford
Have incontrovertibly shown
That comparative safety on shipboard
Is enjoyed by the hedgehog alone.
But, why haven’t they done it at Spithead,
As they’ve done it at Harvard and Yale
And also at Oxford and Cambridge
By shaving the spines off its tail!

The annoying thing about the hedgehog song is of course that Terry only leaks us bits and pieces of it, but certainly never enough material to deduce a complete text from. So alt.fan.pratchett readers decided to write their own version of the song, which is available for downloading from the Pratchett Archives.

The first version of the song was written and posted by Matthew Crosby (who tried to incorporate all the lines mentioned in the Discworld novels), after which the text was streamlined and many verses were added by other readers of the newsgroup. Currently we have thirteen verses, which makes the song a bit too long to include here in its entirety.

Nevertheless, I thought it would be fun to show what we’ve come up with, so I have compromised and chosen to reproduce just my own favourite verses:

Bestiality sure is a fun thing to do
But I have to say this as a warning to you:
With almost all animals, you can have ball
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
CHORUS:
The spines on his back are too sharp for a man
They’ll give you a pain in the worst place they can
The result I think you’ll find will appall:
The hedgehog can never be buggered at all!
Mounting a horse can often be fun
An elephant too; though he weighs half a ton
Even a mouse (though his hole is quite small)
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
A fish is refreshing, although a bit wet
And a cat or a dog can be more than a pet
Even a giraffe (despite being so tall)
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
You can ravish a sloth but it would take all night
With a shark it is faster, but the darned beast might bite
We already mentioned the horse, you may recall
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
For prosimian fun, you can bugger a lemur
To bolster your name as a pervert and schemer
The lemurs cry Frink! as a coy mating call
But the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.

Finally, we come to the old drinking song mentioned in the annotation for p. 99/82 of Eric: ‘The Ball of Kerrymuir’. This song can, coincidentally enough, also be found in Michael Green’s Why Was He Born So Beautiful and Other Rugby Songs. That version appears to have the dirty words replaced by rows of asterisks—a rather useless form of editorial restraint, since in this particular case it means the song now contains more asterisks than normal alphabetic characters. Enter alt.fan.pratchett correspondent Tony D’Arcy, who was kind enough to fax me an uncensored copy of the song. ‘The Ball of Kerrymuir’ has 43 verses, a small subset of which I now reproduce for your reading pleasure, just to give you a feel for the song. From here on down this section of the APF is rated X.

Oh the Ball, the Ball of Kerrymuir,
Where your wife and my wife,
Were a-doing on the floor.
CHORUS:
Balls to your partner,
Arse against the wall.
If you never get fucked on a Saturday night
You’ll never be fucked at all.
There was fucking in the kitchen
And fucking in the halls
You couldn’t hear the music for
The clanging of the balls.
Now Farmer Giles was there,
His sickle in his hand,
And every time he swung around
He circumcised the band.
Jock McVenning he was there
A-looking for a fuck,
But every cunt was occupied
And he was out of luck.
The village doctor he was there
He had his bag of tricks,
And in between the dances,
He was sterilising pricks.
And when the ball was over,
Everyone confessed:
They all enjoyed the dancing,
but the fucking was the best.

18

‘Greebo’ is a word that was widely used in the early seventies to describe the sort of man who wanders around in oil-covered denim and leather (with similar long hair) and who settles disagreements with a motorcycle chain—the sort who would like to be a Hell’s Angel but doesn’t have enough style.

19

Magrat’s first greeting comes from A Midsummer Night’s Dream: “Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania”. See also the annotation for p. 350/252 of Lords and Ladies.

From Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings comes the Elvish greeting: “A star shines on the hour of our meeting”.

20

A quote from King Lear, act 4, scene 6.

21

Not quite a Shakespeare title, but Please Yourself refers to both As You Like It and the subtitle of Twelfth Night: “Or What You Will”.

22

Refers to the Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals Cats and Starlight Express.

23

Legend has it that from an egg laid by a cockerel and hatched by a serpent, a cockatrice (also known as a basilisk) will spawn. Since the cockatrice is a monster with the wings of a fowl, the tail of a dragon, and the head of a cock, whose very look causes instant death, it should be clear that such an egg would be a very bad omen indeed.

24

From what is probably the most famous soliloquy in Macbeth: act 2, scene 1. See also the annotation for p. 184/183.

25

This is a reference to the Rollright stones near Chipping Norton in the UK, which according to legend can not be accurately counted.

26

The first scene of the first act of Shakespeare’s Hamlet starts at midnight, and describes a scene lasting about fifteen minutes—yet the act ends at dawn. Likewise, the summoning of WxrtHltl-jwlpklz the demon takes place at night, but ends with the quote given above.

27

The same image can also be found in Stanley Kubrick’s classic horror movie The Shining, where the ghosts of two small girl twins (who were horribly murdered in a ‘dark deed’) walk hand in hand through the corridors of the Overlook Hotel.

28

In earlier editions of the APF this was flagged as one of Terry’s major inconsistencies. After all, Greebo is supposed to have only one eye.

But since then, Terry has explained on a.f.p: “Greebo is loosely modelled on a real cat I knew when I was a kid—he had two eyes, but one was sort of pearly coloured. He’s blind in one eye.”

29

What follows is a satire of the mad Ophelia in Hamlet: “There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray, love, remember: and there is pansies, that’s for thoughts.” (act 4, scene 5).

30

Amongst English (and Australian) children there exists the folk-belief that the seed-heads of dandelions can be used to tell the time. The method goes as follows: pick the dandelion, blow the seeds away, and the number of puffs it takes to get rid of all the seeds is the time, e.g. three puffs = three o’clock. As a result, the dandelion stalks with their globes of seeds are regularly referred to as a “dandelion clocks” in colloquial English.