Comments on: The Promised Profit Post: Measure for Measure

By: litlove

litlove — Fri, 02 May 2008 20:44:41 +0000

Ah I see Booksplease has the answer – yes, the M & S in Cambridge is ‘Simply Food’, so that seems very likely for the station.

By: bloglily

bloglily — Thu, 01 May 2008 00:05:26 +0000

Why, yes, U-Dad, I believe he did! A meme involving food — how great is that???

Selling underwear next to food is just as rational as many of the other things you can now buy at the supermarket, some of which are supposed to be food but, in fact, are not.

Oh, Ms. BooksPlease, thank you for that — Simply Food! I love that. I’m going to google it and see if that’s the case with the one at Paddington. But even if it’s not, it should be, shouldn’t it?

Dear Ann, That’s such a completely accurate assessment of where responsibility lies in M4M. I didn’t find the Duke/Isabella matchup anything other than appalling. But there might be more there, and I am going to think about it.

Litlove, I’m all for grandeur!

Bookfraud, I thought you were ALL ABOUT the virgin nuns. Ah, the things you learn on a blog.

Marie — An entire blog post exists out there to explore this very question. It’s here:
ttp://nancyprager.wordpress.com/2007/05/08/good-poets-borrow-great-poets-steal-not/

And here’s a wonderful thing she quotes from a T.S. Eliot essay:

One of the surest tests [of the superiority or inferiority of a poet] is the way in which a poet borrows. Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different. The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique, utterly different than that from which it is torn; the bad poet throws it into something which has no cohesion. A good poet will usually borrow from authors remote in time, or alien in language, or diverse in interest.

Eliot, T.S., “Philip Massinger,” The Sacred Wood, New York: Bartleby.com, 2000.

By: (un)relaxeddad

(un)relaxeddad — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 22:17:53 +0000

I think we call them Marks and Spencers, as if selling underwear next to food is a perfectly rational thing to do. Which it probably is. Didn’t Shakespeare steal everything.

Oh, and I tagged you for a meme. Well, it involved food.

By: BooksPlease

BooksPlease — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 11:15:20 +0000

M&S also have “Simply Food” stores – just selling food (of course). I agree with Litlove they are just called Food Halls when part of the larger M&S shops. I think the one at Paddington Station is a Simply Food M&S.

By: Ann Darnton

Ann Darnton — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 07:26:56 +0000

I never think of Angelo as the real villain in ‘Measure for Measure’. For me the real ‘baddie’ is the Duke, who has made a real mess up of ruling and then jumps ship and leaves other to sort it all out. Typical politician! Maybe he eventually makes his way back and tries to do something to help, but even at the end he has no more idea than fly of what really makes people tick. Does he really think Isabella is going to marry him? These days most productions leave that very open to question.

By: litlove

litlove — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 18:22:17 +0000

Tres chere, I have to say that the grandeur persists and I would probably call them Marks and Spencer Food Halls. Smacks of Harrods, I know, but we quite like that. But I will check it out properly for you and see if there is a better term.

By: bookfraud

bookfraud — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 17:45:43 +0000

“sometimes, the thing you’re reading perfectly fits your current preoccupations…”

that’s what’s so great about the bard. shakespeare always fits with one’s preoccupations. especially when one is preoccupied with virgin nuns (not me!).

i love the fact you stole from shakespeare — he stole from everybody else.

By: mariegauthier

mariegauthier — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 16:52:05 +0000

I’m too lazy & pressed-for-time to look it up, but Someone We All Know said, “Good poets borrow, great poets steal.” It’s a time-honored tradition for which I can only applaud you: Bene!

By: bloglily

bloglily — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 15:30:05 +0000

Hey TJ, Being part of the older person crowd myself, I think what I meant to say is that I feel like this poem speaks to me, maybe more than Jack. Still, he’s the one who has to memorize it. And yes, all my sons have to memorize stuff. It’s good for those little brains.

Litlove, I have to appeal to your knowledge of all things British, you being a citizen and all. What do you call the M&S supermarkets — the ones that don’t sell underwear, but sell frozen chicken tikka and a million kinds of crisps? Food Hall seems a little grand. (And if you can answer this, dear reader who has not yet commented, I’d be so grateful!)

By: toujoursjacques

toujoursjacques — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 13:52:53 +0000

Well, I do qualify as “an older person”—coming out the other end of the shoot, as they say. But Tennyson’s poem (yes I do know how to spell it—my typing fingers gravitate toward vowels for some reason) appealed to me on the earlier end of things as well. Happy to know students are still memorizing poems in English class! By the way, do you know T’s Idylls of the King?

By: litlove

litlove — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 07:18:56 +0000

I love this, Bloglily! I have the words ‘rich’ and ‘profit’ wholly rehabilitated now from the vulgar glare of commercialism and will spend the day applying them to the best parts of it. Simply cannot wait to read the scene involving Marks and Spencers, Paddington Station and a nun.

By: bloglily

bloglily — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 04:36:25 +0000

Why, TJ, that’s very nice of you to say! I’ll tell you, that comment alone will keep me going through the next 100 rejections. As for Tennyson, Jack (my 12 year old) is memorizing that very poem for English class. I think maybe it’s better for an older person, it being about age and all — but it’s good for him to realize that everybody does get old, even greek heroes.

By: TJ

TJ — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 03:49:52 +0000

There. That is exactly what I mean. Whoever does not publish your writing is crazy. What a great post! Down to earth, comical, wise, witty and with a flourish at the end. How very Shakespearean.

Old fashioned or not, I do love Tenneyson, “Ulysses,” and that very very famous first line. Bravo!