Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Princess Prunella....

Well, my day began with me sleeping in.
That is never a good start.
For the rest of the day I feel rushed.
Then it was yucky outside.
Then I was at work.
Then, to top it off, today ended up being the last day of working with my “temps” and we had become somewhat of a family, huddled together in the confines of the dusty warehouse for months now.
We all had to work a bit later than usual, and then, as a sort of finale, one of the temps, the most uncontrollably wild one of the bunch, shrunk-wrapped me.
What?
Well, she sort of Saran-wrapped me with the transparent plastic wrap that is supposed to hold boxes together on a pallet or skid. I barely escaped with my life.
So now, on the way home, I stopped at this Starbucks, and here I am.
I ordered my coffee and then wondered if maybe there was something I could write about today.

Totally uninspired, really.
But (serendipity) as I was waiting for my café americano, I looked down, and right in front of me was a basket filled with children’s books, and right at the front, was this one, shown here, written by my favorite female author, Margaret Atwood.
Princess Prunella and the Purple Peanut.
The basket of books is just one of the immensely great ideas that Starbucks comes up with on a regular basis. It’s a Christmas program called “Stories Fill Dreams”.

People donate a new, unwrapped book to this Holiday Book Drive and then Starbucks, in conjunction with local schools, re-distributes the books where they are most needed in schools and organizations in the community.
I think it is an awesome idea, and really, it makes me proud of the fact that approximately 90% of all my body fluids are a result of ingesting Starbucks products!
So.
What did I do?
Well, I shiftily glanced to the left and to the right.... and I took off with the book!
Yeah, seriously, I did. It is sitting here right in front of me still, and I have just read it.
It is fabulous.
I so wish I was a kid!

OK, here is what the book is about, in a purple nutshell.
Prunella, a proud, prissy, princess, plans to marry a pinheaded prince who will pamper her--until a wise old woman's spell puts a purple peanut on the princess's pretty nose.
See, the book is written in profound proliferation of purposely placed “p” words.
It is a real thoroughgoing exercise in alliteration.
Like, here are a few example sentences:
"Princess Prunella lived in a pink palace with her pinheaded parents, Princess Patty and Prince Peter, her three plump pussycats, Patience, Prue and Pringle, and her puppy dog, Pug."
Or, I loved this one: “And for supper she fed Prunella some parsley and paprika soup, a pile of potted pigeon and pike and pickerel pancakes, and some pepper and porridge preserve, on a pretty plate patterned with pendulous poppies.”

This is not Atwood’s first or only foray into alliterative books for kids. There is also one called Rude Ramsay and the Roaring Radishes, and the soon-to-be-published Bashful Bob and Doleful Dorinda.
She says: “Princess Prunella began as a story I used to tell my little girl when I was brushing out her long curly hair. I was used to telling stories to children, as I worked with them a lot when I was a teen-ager. I was a camp counsellor, for instance. Also I had a much younger sister — I was in charge of her Hallowe’en birthday party, which was always a dramatic event. I used to paint my face green, gather the children underneath the dining room table, turn out all the lights, and tell them ghost stories. In addition to that, I had a puppet show, which I ran with a friend of mine. We started out by doing our puppet show at kids’ birthday parties, and then went on to give it at company Christmas parties.”

Well, I have just read the story, and I loved it.
And every good children’s story needs good illustrations, am I right?

Well, the illustrations in this book are just great. They are the work of Maryann Kovalski.
I’m sure I have stared at these pictures longer than a kid would have. She uses a lot of pastel color, and the expressions on each character, especially the animals, is superb.
And when The Wise Woman’s bag upsets on the stairway, spilling its contents, we see among the things scattered, a copy of the Enquirer, and the front page reads: 98-YR OLD WOMAN WEDS 22-YR OLD MAN! “I LOVE HER. TO ME SHE LOOKS 80.”
And when the peanut-nosed Prunella is served supper in bed, the servant has this emblazoned on her apron, I HATE TO COOK.
Some comic relief for the adult reader of the story....

Anyways, I know this blog is getting downright Tolstoyan in length, but I simply cannot resist to include here a couple of alliterative poems I wrote about 403 years ago.
The reason I can’t resist, is because the first one is even written in “p”!
[No, not urine, but... you know what I mean, right?]

So, please indulge me..... these must be read as a duo, together, like.

His Apology In “P” Flat

Please?
Please?
Please?
Perchance pretty petunias would appease
Your profound perturbations? I’ll not cease
To proclaim innocence, yet painfully will I perish
If failing to produce passion. Will you not cherish
Pure pristine pleas from my heart… on my knees?

Dear, if I have been priggish… pray, pardon my prigness;
Perhaps a bit piggish? Pour lard on my pigness
But please end this prolonged persecution in my head
That parades past our parlour, and creeps into bed.

Pale and skinless as a poor peeled potato I beseech
At least provisional pardon… oh, precious pretty peach.
Come now! Perceiving the plethora of previous penance made
Is your peeved personal piper yet a’ piping unpaid?
… And my prayerful pleadings beyond passion’s pure reach?
Please!
Please!
Please!


Her Reply In “S” Major

Sorry?
Sorry?
Sorry?
So soon you shout your sinless sincerity
With such “savoir faire” and sad sensitive clarity.
Saturday’s senselessness swallowed by Sunday’s repentance?
You suspect I should suddenly suspend your sad sentence?
So like a man! No sense of severity!

“Innocence” you said? I was shocked to the seams!
One-sided supplications survive only in dreams.
Have you searched? Is there not something left on the shelf?
Would simply a “Sorry” be too much from your Self?

“Too simple” you say? Well, my piper’s still playing
Piping song after song after song, till you’re paying.
Come now! Sip from the sweet superiority of female insight
Or listen in silence… all sleepless night.
…Just send me some sign that you’re willing… and saying
Sorry!
Sorry!
Sorry!

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2005

OK, I should probably go home now.
But I bet I know what you are thinking about right now.
You are wondering if I put the book back in the Starbucks basket!
I did.
I profusely promise you, Princess Prunella is perfectly placed properly in her previous proximity!
************

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh dear, what a delicious, delightful post!

And how serendipitous that I recently wrote a post about meeting Maryann Kovalski! (She is an amazing woman, I must say).

I LOVE your poem. And I love alliteration. Always have. You're quite the clever talent, I must say! I'm glad to know that I'm not the only person who wrote like that. May I indulge you? I wrote this when I was 17 and terribly in love for the first time:

Your benevolence beguiles me
And belies you lowly view
Of your base and banty being
Which you claim to be as true

Ah but alas, my beauty
I know better than you do
So this business to bedevil me
Bears naught upon my view

Begone with your belittling
I cannot bear to see
Such baneful self-bereavement
Self-bestowed on thee

But if your blamed blemish
Be what you beef as true
I shall be as evermore
As much in love with you.

Cipriano said...

Oh I love it.
Thank you Patricia, for promptly posting this precious pithy poem on the puddle.