Wednesday, June 26, 2013

The Illustrations of Wallace Tripp and my Earliest Memories of Shakespeare

Tripp, Wallace, comp. and illus. A Great Big Ugly Man Came up and Tied his Horse to Me: A Book of Nonsense Verse. Boston: Little, Brown, 1973.

Tripp, Wallace, comp. and illus. Granfa' Grig had a Pig and Other Rhymes without Reason. Boston: Little, Brown, 1976.

Tripp, Wallace, comp. and illus. Marguerite, Go Wash Your Feet. New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1985.

I'm often asked when I first came to Shakespeare. A better question is probably when Shakespeare first came to me.

Either way, it's a difficult question to answer. I have a few stories about youthful experiences with a book, a stage production, or a film, but none of them is a clear first.

The image above, a detail from the image below, may come closest to being the first place I remember encountering Shakespeare. When I was young, I used to pour over two books by the unbelievably amazing illustrator Wallace Tripp. In them, he compiled nursery rhymes, famous sayings, and pieces of poetry and provided meticulous and marvelous illustrations for them. His illustrations are dense, funny, thoughtful, and detailed, and they reward repeated study—much like the works of William Shakespeare!

The image below (from A Great Big Ugly Man Came up and Tied his Horse to Me) is a giant two-page spread of an elephant in Renaissance dress causing London Bridge to crumble. To the far left, a horse is jumping clear of the destruction; its rider, having been thrown from the saddle, is falling after it, crying "My kingdom for a horse!" I don't know quite when I learned that those words came from Shakespeare, but I do recall the immense enjoyment the line gave me.

Note, too, the Fishmonger's shop behind the falling figure (is Polonius within?) and the bill reading "Now Playing Globe Theatre—Historie of Henry ye Fourth"

Tripp's details intrigued me and sparked my imagination. I'm not absolutely certain that his illustration of the proverbial "For want of a nail, the shoe was lost" is intended to depict Richard III and the Battle of Bosworth, but I connected it in my young mind with the cry of "My kingdom for a horse" from the earlier illustration. I also used to spend hours squinting at this drawing, trying to find the nail that all those soldier had missed. Note: The nail is in the image below—can you spot it?

From A Great Big Ugly Man Came up and Tied his Horse to Me.

Tripp's Granfa' Grig had a Pig has only one quote from Shakespeare that I could find, but it's a very useful one to have in your word-hoard:

A Snide Side Remark from King Lear.

I wasn't aware of Tripp's Marguerite, Go Wash Your Feet until many years after it was published, but I wish I had been. In it, the Shakespeare is more direct and more abundant (and the side remarks by other characters more humorous):

A Quote from Macbeth and a Complaint about a Carrot Omelet.

William Shakespeare, the Ordinary Human Being

A Quote from Hamlet as a Horologist's Lament

Prospero's Abjuration of his Magic
(And a Flippant Comment from a Rabbit)


And that is the last image in Marguerite, Go Wash Your Feet. I gather that Wallace Tripp has retired from illustrating. I wish to thank him for the hours, days, and years of pleasure his work has given the world. Thank you, Wallace Tripp!


I'm returning to this after nine years to provide one more example.  This time, it's from the book mentioned by Tripp's daughter in one of the comments below: Rose's are Red, Violet's are Blue and Other Silly Poems (New York: Little Brown & Co., 1999).

First, here's the full spread for "There was an Old Person of Ware":


And now, a detail of the packages on the back of the bike:


We have something there for "Bear Bodkin" on "Quietus St." in "Whipscorn." And something for Fardel's Bear on Grunt St. in Sweatby.

Thank you again, Mr. Tripp, for such delightful, playful cleverness.


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6 comments:

AHAviews said...

A great big ugly horse etc. is a family favourite here where playing with playing with words is a serious sport.

kj said...

Thanks, AHAviews! I'm so glad. Sharing Tripp is a pleasure, but it's an even greater pleasure to meet someone who knows his work already.

Take care!

kj

Anonymous said...

I read "A Great big Ugly man came up and tied his horse to me, " 30 years ago to my kids and they still remember the rhymes today. Loved the book and have started my own series, cartoons and prose, along the same nonsensical avenue.

Wally, I would like some critique of my work. I have drawn 17 pages, thus far.

I absolutely love the drawing and writing of your style.

kj said...

Thanks, Anonymous, for your comments. Yes, the work of Tripp is exceptionally memorable.

Take care, and good luck with your own nonsensical work!

kj

L_A_Tripp said...

Hi! I'm a little late to this post, but I'm Wally's daughter and I just love this. He would have been delighted! Wally was a huge Shakespeare fan, his favorite being The Tempest. In college he wrote and illustrated a book about the man himself, which I posted on my (terrible) website about my father. It may be found here: https://www.pawprintscards.com/shakespeare-book

The last picture in Marguerite was indeed Wally handing in his pen, though he did manage to later squeeze out the book Rose’s Are Red, which can best be described as “unhinged.” It included his very favorite poem Jabberwocky. He painted a beautiful, large picture of the fight scene, which is sadly lost, but it was pretty much as it is in the book. There’s a nice glossary in the back of the book that Wally wrote explaining the words. I think he enjoyed scholarship as much as drawing!

Wally was a fan of a lot of old Lit, including Chaucer, who he would read and giggle until he couldn't breathe. Wally also loved Tolkein; he read 4 of the books aloud to me and my brother growing up. One of Wally's most prized possessions was a letter from Tolkein thanking him for the illustrations he sent of scenes from the Hobbit. I think all of that inspired Sir Toby Jingle. He had a novel in the works about a minstrel fox and he always wanted to illustrate King Arthur. Sadly Parkinson's made drawing too difficult and eventually even silenced his great wit when he could no longer speak. I’ve been inventorying his art and appreciating again his masterful hand. Boy was he funny!

Wally would have loved that you got the jokes. I know it has been a while but thank you for this post!

kj said...

Thank you, L_A_Tripp, for commenting!

What a delight to hear from Wallace Tripp's daughter and to get some insight into his history. I'm saddened to learn about his Parkinson's and his death. I can't imagine how hard that was for him and for you.

But what joy he gave—and continues to give—to so many!

I'm so taken by the Shakespeare book. It's so funny (I love the introduction by Sir Geoffrey Twinge of Fnorkington Hall), and the illustrations are priceless.

Do keep us informed about anything else—if you add to the website or if a museum or library decides to put on a Wallace Tripp Retrospective! You can find my e-mail in my Blogger profile.

Thanks again—so much—and take care!

kj (Bardfilm)

Bardfilm is normally written as one word, though it can also be found under a search for "Bard Film Blog." Bardfilm is a Shakespeare blog (admittedly, one of many Shakespeare blogs), and it is dedicated to commentary on films (Shakespeare movies, The Shakespeare Movie, Shakespeare on television, Shakespeare at the cinema), plays, and other matter related to Shakespeare (allusions to Shakespeare in pop culture, quotes from Shakespeare in popular culture, quotations that come from Shakespeare, et cetera).

Unless otherwise indicated, quotations from Shakespeare's works are from the following edition:
Shakespeare, William. The Riverside Shakespeare. 2nd ed. Gen. ed. G. Blakemore Evans. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997.
All material original to this blog is copyrighted: Copyright 2008-2039 (and into perpetuity thereafter) by Keith Jones.

The very instant that I saw you did / My heart fly to your service; there resides, / To make me slave to it; and, for your sake, / Am I this patient [b]log-man.

—The Tempest