Be to her, Persephone,
All the things I might not be;
Take her head upon your knee.
She that was so proud and wild,
Flippant, arrogant and free,
She that had no need of me,
Is a little lonely child
Lost in Hell, -- Persephone,
Take her head upon your knee;
Say to her, "My dear, my dear,
It is not so dreadful here." - Edna St Vincent Millay
Showing posts with label Feast of the Holy Innocents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Feast of the Holy Innocents. Show all posts
Exactly five years ago, on another Holy Innocents' Day, I was discussing the carol "The Band of Children" which I remembered from one of those strange gem-like Christmas specials which I've never seen again and can't find any reference on the Internet for. It was an animated special in which six carols were illustrated while an actor read the lyrics with the tune playing in the background.
A couple of weeks ago, a gent going by the handle of "maple servo" was kind enough to attach a comment to that original post, directing me to YouTube, where someone has finally made The Christmas Messenger available. The "Band of Children" begins about two minutes and twenty seconds into the clip:
I had completely forgotten that Richard Chamberlain was in this, possibly because this interpretation of "The Band of Children" was really the only thing that stayed with me. (Although the "I Saw Three Ships" is rather charming.)
Thank-you, "mapleservo". You've made my Fourth Day of Christmas.
Today is one of the traditional Feast Days for the Holy Innocents (the other days being the 27th and the 29th). Such a strange feast commemorating a massacre of children which is also an event that cannot be confirmed in any historical record outside the Bible. Not that it matters, children are being massacred on a depressingly regular basis around the world. Now is the time to sing The Coventry Carol and feel the helpless sorrow. However, one of my very favourite, favourite carols is "The Band of Children", words by Frank Samuel Herbert Kendon, the tune an ancient French carol Laissez paître vos bêtes. I first heard it years ago during one of those strange gem-like Christmas specials which I've never seen again and can't find any reference on the Internet for. It was an animated special in which six carols were illustrated while an actor read the lyrics with the tune playing in the background:
The stars shall light your journey, your mother holds you close and warm; The donkey's pace shall rock you, sleep baby, dream no harm.
What songs are these, faint heard and far? The wind maybe in palm trees tall, or running stream or nightbird's call; The dark lies deep on the desert where Joseph and Mary rode, The dark lies deep on the desert, sleep well, thou child of God.
What songs are these, faint heard and far? 'Tis neither wind in palm trees tall, nor waterbrook, nor nightbird's call, It is the voice of children where Joseph walked and Mary rode, The fierce wild beasts are friendly, sleep well, thou child of God.
What forms are these, clear on the dark, That shine and yet are flesh and blood, that laugh and sing along the road? It is a crowd of children where Joseph walked and Mary rode, A singing band of children, sleep well, thou child of God.
O, never was seen so strange a guard: About the footsore travellers they in lovely circles moved, till day, Until the baby awakened, while Joseph trudged and Mary rode. Such lullaby be all men's, sleep well, thou child of God.
I searched far and wide through YouTube for this song which I have in front of me in The Oxford Book of Carols, but it's not under "Band of Children", "Laissez paître vos bêtes" nor any combination of the lyrics or its author that I've tried. I did have limited success in finding an Advent version of the carol, Venez, divin Messie. The tune is not quite right, but it might give you a faint idea: Now, it occurs to me that this does give the rather spooky impression that it's the spirits of all those slaughtered children circling and protecting baby Jesus, but there it is.
And if the Holy Innocents sing, how about if they dance? About a week before Christmas, my Friend of the Right Hand sent a video link which I did not open. (It was, I repeat, the week before Christmas.) Yesterday, I finally got around to it and was at first bewildered. It's a video with a bunch of comments posted beneath, a recent one from a woman who lost her soldier son in Iraq and says she was able to sleep through the night for the first time. What the dickens? I started playing it. A tall, teddy-bear kind of guy gives directions to whoever is holding the camcorder and begins a strange loping short of dance in the middle of a Mumbai street. The background changes; he's doing the same odd dance in various places around the world, in the desert, on a beach, in a market. Then, oh my God, the music builds and he's not alone. And to my utter astonishment, I burst into tears. I now know this has received a great deal of media attention, but it was new to me and if it's new to you, I beg you to watch it. I'll wait.... Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo. So tell me, am I a blubbering sentimental idiot? My favourite bits are his stately variation with the Indian dancers in Gurgaon and the poignant lonely little dance in the demilitarized zone in Korea. And of course, the dances in the three largest Canadian cities: Toronto, Vancouver, and Montreal. (Toronto is not labeled, but they're the first group that rushes in to join Matt. And yes, it does rain that hard in Montreal. Ottawa is a two-hour drive west; a downpour will fill your shoes in seconds.)
Matt Harding apparently used to design computer games, got put off by the violence, and set off to travel the world. Somewhere in there, he got funding from Cadbury's, and the rest is internet history. Dance well, thou children of God.
I live in the capital city of Canada....and I'd rather not! I'm like Persephone, doomed to spend 10 months of the year in Hades and two months in my hometown. Except that Persephone got to go home for six months out of the year.
When The Junior Wreckerator Has Become The Master
-
Welcome to another installment of...
*Confessions of a Master Baker!*
*"Ordinary bakers. Extraordinary feats of bad judgment."*
[baker's silhouette sp...
This Week’s Online Genealogy Events
-
Choose from these selected free online events. All times are Eastern Time,
unless otherwise noted. Registration may be required in advance—please
check t...
1972 | The Tasadays – National Geographic
-
In the early 1970s, a wave of anthropologists, archaeologists and others
who descended on Mindanao, in the southern Philippines. Rainforests there
were pla...
Links for OGS Memorials Webinar 2 November 2023
-
Ontario War Memorials, by Tim Laye
https://ontariowarmemorials.blogspot.com/Canadian Military Memorials
Database (now Military memorials in Canada)
https:...
Square Eyes
-
Do they still say that if you watch too much television you’ll get square
eyes? Or is that an expression that went out of fashion when kids started
spend...
Canada Day
-
I was pretty much unaware of Canada Day this year. I grew up in Ottawa and
it was always a huge deal there. Just packed. The streets were always too
conges...
Quid pro quo
-
A lovely lady called Chirping Norton (well, I assume that isn’t actually
her name, but) asked me very kindly if I would update the blog and then she
said s...
Adjust contrast of a pdf free
-
Closer to the eye of the shooter, this is because Preview is quite
literally applying a filter to each individual page of the PDF you are
saving. the proce...
The way I write...
-
Following on from my previous post about writing sisters, I thought I'd
give a few insights into the way I write, as opposed to the way, Virginia
does it. ...
Another Goodbye ... and another Hello!
-
I've kept a blog for 10 years now. My very first blogpost (here) was about
big pants. Since then we've discussed everything from the existence of god
to...
AUDIO REVIEW: The Diary of River Song Series 1
-
*The Diary of River Song Series 1*
*Written by Jenny T Colgan, Justin Richards, James Goss & Matt Fitton *
*Starring Alex Kingston & Paul McGann *
*Out N...
In the ‘hood
-
He’s tall, thin, and tweedy; dressed in a combination of wheat-coloured
linens and wool and accented with dramatic scholarly tortoiseshell glasses
and thic...
and yes I said yes I will Yes.
-
OK, so my good intentions didn't get many posts written, eh? Of course,
like everyone registered to vote in Scotland, I've been a bit preoccupied
just rece...
Happiness is a turquoise lip gloss fairy
-
Today is my birthday and I am home on the couch, mildly hungover from
overindulging at a wonderful party last night. The Fucking Cats are lying
beside me, ...
Wave Hello ... Say Goodbye ...
-
This is my very last post on this blog.
It has been very good to me this past four years but it's starting to go
all wonky and haywire and it's becoming to...