The joys of Chekhov, and modern sitcom

So far as modern sitcom goes, we are dwelling in the 1890s – naturalistically speaking.

There’s a bit in the American cartoon comedy series Family Guy where Peter Griffin – the oafish, buffoonish father who is the central character of the show – goes to see a performance of a Chekhov play in the theatre. Having sat through a few lines of Chekhov’s understated dialogue, a somewhat disgruntled Griffin stands up and says, ‘What the hell is this? For crying out loud, somebody throw a pie!’

In some ways, maybe he has a point. Chekhov does confuse us when we first encounter him.

The all-new fiendishly difficult literary quiz

Think you know the difference between Kit Marlowe and Philip Marlowe, to say nothing of the narrator of Conrad's Heart of Darkness? Pride yourself on knowing your George Orwell from your George Eliot, and being able to tell your Brontes apart, even after tossing the drink around a bit? Well here, at long last, then, if you must, is the companion-piece to the ‘Big Christmas Language Quiz’ from ... ages ago. As before, there are twenty multiple-choice QI-inspired (but not -derived) questions for you to tackle, kick, molest, make love to and tear your hair out over, and all with a literary theme. It’s the most fiendish and unfair game of 20 Questions you’ll ever play! Muahhahaaahaaa...

The answers and explanations will follow in due course. If you're feeling lucky, punk (or hippy, or whatever your musical and cultural tastes), feel free to post your answers in a comment at the bottom for a chance to win the mystery star prize if you get all 20 correct...

New Victorian Limericks

Blimey, gadzooks, and all that caper - can it really be two-and-a-half years - nay, more - since the first batch of Victorian limericks was penned? It can? Why, it must be time for some new ones then, surely? It is? There are? Perfect. Sit back and enjoy this new selection of the fabled Victorian limericks, which are back by unpopular demand. And feel free to leave your suggestions for writers to feature in the third batch, in the comments section below. Now let the poetry unfold...

There once was a woman named Braddon

Whose writing would frequently madden

The critics and booers

Like George Henry Lewes

Who’d read her, but wished that he hadn’.

Seven of the most misused phrases in the language...

I'm firmly on the side of the descriptivists rather than prescriptivists when it comes to things like grammar, semantics, and general language-use. Language is, after all, constantly envolving and changing; old senses of words give way to new: witness 'nice', which, in its long history (starting with the Latin nescius meaning 'knowing nothing'), has meant 'stupid', 'precise', 'kind', and now - it would seem - means both nothing and everything. (Many English teachers, I suspect, still forbid their pupils to use the word.) Which is all nice enough. But, clearly to renounce all resistance to word-use, or to allow individuals to use language as they see fit - at the cost of clarity of communication and felicity of expression - well, that way lies Humpty-Dumptytude of the highest (or lowest) order.

Dickens, the Bicentennial Man

Even people who've never read one have a favourite Dickens novel. Those who've been enthralled and amused by Muppet's Christmas Carol, or the BBC's 2005 soap-opera-esque adaptation of Bleak House, or the seemingly annual tradition of a new TV or film adaptation of Great Expectations, can all point to one of the stories and pronounce admiration for it. (Okay, so A Christmas Carol isn't technically a 'novel', more a novella-ella-ella.) We're dwelling in the year of the bicentennial man himself (no, not a crap Robin Williams film, but the 200th anniversary of Dickens's birth), so everyone is chucking their tuppence' worth of Dickensiana into the ring (or the hat, or whatever people of old used to toss their tuppennce into). I felt I may as well join in. I'm not really any more

The sonnets of the Phantom Antagonist

Back in 2005, the mysterious Phantom Antagonist sent a number of sonnets from a longer sonnet sequence (untitled) to the online literary magazine, the 'Dead Letter Office'. That publication is now sadly defunct, but the three sonnets which were sent to the magazine (two of which were published, one suppressed owing to the strength of language used) are now republished here, with the permission of the author. He has only ever disclosed his true identity once, and I cannot say whether he wishes to do so again; it's up to him. Anyway, here are the poems, love sonnets for the 21st century (originally written in late 2001).