With a nightmarish fanfare of snores and snorts, Fit the Sixth of Lewis Carroll’s cri-de-cœur, AKA The Hunting of the Snark, now heaves into view. This page, a little number which I call The Barrister’s Dream,
is an illustrative poke-in-the-snoot aimed squarely at the grand
English tradition of Oneiric Verse, ie., such yawn-inducing showstoppers
as the Dream of the Rood, Bill Blake’s Dream and Christina "Sister Wombat" Rossetti’s Dream Land.
The reader will note that in this Fit of his Snark,
Carroll successfully introduced the nightmarish element of potential
litigation into the English Dream Poem, thus bringing to light the
adversarial relationship twixt Dreamer and Dream.
We all of us
dream and yet none of us truly know why, nor, more to the point, what
our dreams might mean. If this is not an apt metaphor for the
relationship twixt the Average Citizen and the Law, I’m a
frittered-cheese-wig! Hence, our need for barristers and all their jolly
legal ilk cluttering the land, and hence we find that even whilst
asleep, Carroll has seen fit to provide you, the D.R., with qualified
legal assistance at affordable rates.
If you are so inclined, it
might occur to you that the Entire Meaning of the Snark is a similar
enigma, impervious to explanation save by employing the services of a
picture-wallah such as my ever-so-‘umble self. It might even occur to
you that my tactic of employing Martin Heidegger as our Snarkic
Barrister bodes ill for any useful solution to any of the above
questions. Heidegger was a notorious Teutonic chatterbox and utterly
useless for any explanation more complex than obtaining the directions
to the nearest washroom, in short, prime material for any barrister’s
office wishing to pad their billable hours beyond all human endurance.
Alas,
you are not so inclined. You are, like the Barrister Heidegger,
comfortably reclined and fast asleep on company time, amazed by this
Snark-hunter’s dream which we call life.
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