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The Origins of the English Laureate Micro-Epic


The Origins of the English Laureate Micro-Epic

Original article

Tom MacFaul. "The Butterfly, the Fart and the Dwarf: the Origins of the English Laureate Micro-Epic." Connotations Vol. 17.2-3: 144-64.

Responses:

Bruce Boehrer. … To Say Nothing of Frogs and Angels: A Response to Tom MacFaul Connotations 19: 161-64

Thomas Herron. More Hot Air: A Large and Serious Response to Tom MacFaul Connotations 19: 165-75

If you feel inspired to write a response, please send it to editors(at)connotations.de

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From “The Benefits of Cooking Together”
by The Chef & The Dish

Read by Sandra Wetzel

adventcal_01

“If cooking is in the very foundation of being human, then working together toward that shared enjoyment of eating is in the very foundation of what establishes human bond.”

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From Taste: My Life Through Food
by Stanley Tucci

Read by Yves Herak

adventcal_02

 

“There is a dish, a very special dish, that is served in a home on Christmas Day. It is called Timpano…”

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From Macbeth
by William Shakespeare

Read by Moana Toteff

adventcal_03

 

LADY MACBETH

Who dares receive it other,

As we shall make our griefs and clamor roar

Upon his death?

 

MACBETH

I am settled and bend up

Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.

Away, and mock the time with fairest show.

False face must hide what the false heart doth

know.

 

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From The Diary of a Nobody
by George and Weedon Grossmith

Read by Laurie Atkinson

adventcal_04 

 

“Why should I not publish my diary? I have often seen reminiscences of people I have never even heard of, and I fail to see—because I do not happen to be a ‘Somebody’—why my diary should not be interesting. My only regret is that I did not commence it when I was a youth.“

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From the Anthology Answering Back
by Carol Ann Duffy

Read by Sophia Smolinski

adventcal_05

 

“My heart is warm with the friends I make,

And better friends I‘ll not be knowing; 

Yet there isn‘t a train I wouldn‘t take, 

No matter where it‘s going.”

 

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From The Little Prince
by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
translated by Katherine Woods

Read by Capucine Blanc and Michael Reid

adventcal_06

 

“To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But ff you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.”

 

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From The Chimes
by Charles Dickens

Read by Marina Kirillova

adventcal_07

 

 

“The Year was Old, that day.  The patient Year had lived through the reproaches and misuses of its slanderers, and faithfully performed its work.  Spring, summer, autumn, winter.  It had laboured through the destined round, and now laid down its weary head to die.  Shut out from hope, high impulse, active happiness, itself, but active messenger of many joys to others, it made appeal in its decline to have its toiling days and patient hours remembered, and to die in peace.  Trotty might have read a poor man’s allegory in the fading year; but he was past that, now.”

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“Memories and Wishes”
by Viktoria Eisnach

Read by Viktoria Eisnach

adventcal_08

I remember, the sounds of bells were conversating,

Looking out the window, waiting,

Bundles of joy and reddening cheeks,

Bringing the snow through the door and he greats

Warmly with the voice of soft chuckling fire:

“I award you with treats

You so hardly desire.“

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From Peter Pan
by J. M. Barrie

Read by Mirjam Haas

adventcal_09

“Her voice was so low that at first he could not make out what she said. Then he made it out. She was saying that she thought she could get well again if children believed in fairies.

Peter flung out his arms. There were no children there, and it was night-time; but he addressed all who might be dreaming of the Neverland, and who were therefore nearer to him than you think: boys and girls in their nighties, and naked papooses in their baskets hung from trees.

‘Do you believe?’ he cried.“

 

www.deviantart.comblazbarosartPeter-Pan-530056657

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From Two Boys Kissing
by David Levithan

Read by Tobias Kunz

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“Things are not magical because they have been conjured for us by some outside force. They are magical because we create them, and then deem them so.“

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From Retrospection
by Charlotte Brontë

Read by Sophia Franklin

adventcal_11

 

We wove a web in childhood,
A web of sunny air;
We dug a spring in infancy
Of water pure and fair;

We sowed in youth a mustard seed,
We cut an almond rod;
We are now grown up to riper age-
Are they withered in the sod?

(…)