Rebuilding Africa - A Myth and its Rewriting
Original article
Ruth Mayer. "Mythifying Africa." Connotations Vol. 5.2-3: 187-207.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25Ruth Mayer. "Mythifying Africa." Connotations Vol. 5.2-3: 187-207.
12345678910111213141516171819202122232425
Hallo!
A great deal of steam!
The pudding was out of the copper.
“That is the only way to get a kettle to boil up the river.”
“Smell it, father dear!”
“ Of all the delicacies in the whole mundus edibilis, I will maintain it to be the most delicate—princeps obsoniorum.”
…a splendid meal, of perhaps 30 courses…
Something
seemed to be waiting for me.
Maybe the “chosen guide” Wordsworth
wrote he would even were it “nothing
better than a wandering cloud”
have followed which of course to me
and everyone sounds amazing.
\”Let us PRETEND!
Let us pretend it\’s a party!”
“an immense
plumb cake,
the diameter
that of a large
waggon-wheel”
“The Revolting Rhyme ofHansel and Gretel were hard to like kids
Dining on chocolate, waffles and ribs
Stuffing their faces and eating all day
Watching TV over going to play
They had as much charm as a smelly old sock
Their clock of life chances was screaming ‘tick-tock!’
“Something off the shoulder perhaps?” suggested the animal, “braised in a white wine sauce?”
Despite the late addition of chopped fresh mint to a blend of melted chocolate, egg yolk, coconut milk, rum, gin, crushed banana and icing sugar, the cocktail was not particularly refreshing.
“My mother loves butter more than I do,
more than anyone. She pulls chunks off
the stick and eats it plain, explaining
cream spun around into butter! […]”
I nibble through old service books.
“…the first thing she saw was a kind-looking old she-beaver sitting in the corner with a thread in her mouth…”
“I am particularly fond of mulligatawny soup, James.”
A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce—and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table.
Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse…
“Persephone?
Oh, I saw what happened to her.
I saw everything.”
Nancy and Betsie Davie locked me into the great Parlour, and
both fell on me and pulled my Wigg almost to Pieces.
— I paid them for it however.
“they were happy so happy that we had to send out twice for more bread”
\”I\’d pawn me gold hairbrush for some eel pies and a saveloy.\”
Just before tea-time there came a tremendous ring on the front-door bell…
“Love bade me welcome.”
“ Who are you calling a Turkey?”
