When your imagination
Is controlling you
An imaginary world, when created by a truly gifted, conflicted mind, has the vexatious tendency to outlive its author. An author/artist who, perhaps, had dreams of accomplishing something more weighty is remembered by Quangle-Wangles, Pobbles, and Jumblies.
As a curious word devotee, I have to give a nod to imaginary worlds as they have given us some of our greatest (and most curious) neologisms.
Edward Lear was an artist who dipped his brush heavily into nonsense. And, for the most part, that is how he is remembered. Fancible verbal creations of his such as ‘runcible spoon’, even made its way into many dictionaries (with various attempts to define this imaginary object).
But Lear’s own story is a sad one. His imaginary world grew as the real world became more painful and lonely. Stricken with epilepsy–which terrified him and caused him to withdraw from company for long periods of time–and increasing blindness, put an end to his hopes of being the artist and illustrator he dreamed of.
“He had a lifelong ambition to illustrate Tennyson‘s poems.” [wiki]
Throughout his life Lear kept painting, and even with his diminished eyesight, his work as a ‘naturalist’ bird artist and landscape painter had him compared favorably with Audubon.
Many of his earlier pieces of landscape art are lovely and intuitive, and one can only regret his failing eyesight.
But Mr. Lear, we thank you that, despite despair and illness, you kept creating habitable worlds of your own that would bring a strange rush of delight to generations to come.
A delightful page devoted to Edward Lear here.
As I’ve written about here, on my Margery Sharp blog, this vexatious habit of imaginary creations taking on a life of their own was true of that lovable bear named Winnie the Pooh, and the warm and fuzzy vice-like grip it kept on the life of author A.A. Milne.