Posts Tagged ‘Dante’s Divine Comedy’
Thursday, March 4th, 2010
If you don’t know who Lord Peter Death Bredon Wimsey is then you’re in dire need of some better British reading material. And if you do, well, chances are you’re in need of a little air to cool your cheeks because, as any proper Brit can tell you, Lord Peter Wimsey is a delectably yummy chap! (Which is truly saying something considering the old man emerged into fictitious existence in the primordial year of 1923.)
Ahem. Um . . . my husband has just snuck a peek over my shoulder and is requesting to know what exactly I mean by the term “yummy” in regards to Wimsey. I tell him it’s simply all the same things I think about him of course–handsome, witty, mysterious, brave, and careless in a roguish-yet-safe-sort-of-way.
He snorts and informs me he once named his dog Lord Peter Wimsey.
I tell him this is not helpful as it really isn’t the sort of post I’m going for, to which he smirks and goes back to finishing some sort of engineering calculations he’s been working on. Leaving me to confess to you, dear reader, that ever since my teenage years, Lord Peter Wimsey (the literary character, not the dog) has been greater to me than Sherlock Holmes (don’t gasp, I can’t help it). This is mainly due to the fact that Wimsey employs irresistible wit and charm in place of the opiates and morose moods so customary of Holmes. And although I will concede that Sherlock Holmes’ mind is by far more brilliant, as is—one could argue—his genius at solving crimes, Wimsey excels at cricket, which is also pretty hot in my book.
Plus, his middle name is “Death,” okay?
But the absolute sheerest beauty of these Dorothy Sayers’ mysteries? Their ability to bequeath upon the reader an aura of dirt being dished on half of the old English upper-crust whilst cheerily slinking around with a few dead bodies. And this usually comes after we’ve been allowed to watch our hero in action as he enjoys his morning tea and bath a bit too immensely for the ease of most modern, normal men. (A quick side note on our author for those of you interested—Sayers was a contemporary of C.S. Lewis and Tolkien, argued theology with a quick wit, and, among other things, did a translation of Dante’s Divine Comedy.)
Hmm . . . a thought has just struck me. I wonder if my Lord Peter Wimsey obsession had any influence on my marrying a tall, dark man by the name Peter W? I mention this to my husband who finds it curious and then goes back to his reading with the calm request that from now on I reference him only as “Lord.”
So here’s my question for the day (to which I already know the answer because I’m biased, but you can disagree if you like). Be honest now. Who would win in a monkey knife street fight—Holmes or Wimsey?
- « Older Entries
- Newer Entries »