Friday, January 23, 2009

Epitaphs

Do you long to have your writing not merely published on paper but etched into stone for the ages? You can — for the simple price of a granite slab. Some of the cleverest, pithiest words ever penned, or rather carved, have been on gravestones in the form of epitaphs. (But how disconcerting to know that your life can be summarized in words few enough to fit on a kneehigh stone.)

Although getting your epitaph carved on your gravestone does come with the unfortunate condition that you be deceased, you can take consolation in this: you can write your own. The British collector of epitaphs, W.H. Howe wrote: "Sometimes (epitaphs) were written by their subject, who feared to leave his reputation to his surviving friends and to — truth."

Howe compiled a collection of epitaphs in a little book entitled: "Everybody's Book of Epitaphs: Being for the Most Part What the Living Think of the Dead." My wife found it at the McCracken County Library semi-annual book sale yesterday at our church, St. Paul Lutheran, where she filled a bag for $7.

Some of the epitaphs contained in the collection are lengthy, glorious monstrosities; others morbid condemnations; others touching tributes. The best are humorous quips.

Example:
Here lies interr'd beneath these stones
The beard, the flesh, and eke ye bones
of Wrexham's clerk, old Daniel Jones

An author:
Finis

A photographer:
Taken from life

Dr. Potter, archbishop of Canterbury:
Alack and well a-day
Potter himself is turned to clay

Sir John Strange:
Here lies an honest lawyer:
That is Strange

Brothers:
Here lies 2 brother by misfortun serounded
One dy'd of his wounds, and the other was drownded

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I began reading your blog by accident one morning (clicked the wrong link on my morning paper before the coffee kicked in) and have been hooked ever since. I appreciate your humor and insight and my day begins with a smile whenever you post a new article. Just wanted to let you know!

Anonymous said...

The American journalist, writer and critic, H. L. Mencken, left us with a great epitaph. It reads: "If, after I depart this vale, you ever remember me or have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner, and wink your eye at some homely girl." Thanks very much for your interesting posts, and for introducing me to mondegreens.