Thursday, May 08, 2008

Bona Brideshead

I was amazed to discover the other day that you can see all of the classic 80's TV series Brideshead Revisited online and legitimately for free at

I've started watching it and Sebastian and Charles are certainly a lot camper than I remembered; "naughtiness high on the catalogue of grave sins" indeed.

I'm likely to need to create a drinking game to go with it if I'm to struggle through the rest. There's plenty of inspiration:

Come with me now to the Evelyn Waugh/Round the Horne mash-up that the world didn't know it was waiting for:

a string quartet plays

CHARLES RYDER: But I was in search of love in those days, and I went full of curiousity and the faint, unrecognized apprehension that here, at last, I should find that low door in the wall, which others, I knew, had found before me, which opened on an enclosed and enchanted garden, which was somewhere, not overlooked by any window, in the heart of that grey city ....... beyond a sign that promised "Bona Gardens".

JULIAN (screaming): Ooh hello Mr Ryder, I'm Julian and this is my friend Sandy.
SANDY(also screaming): Ooh hello. No Sebastian today, no Aloisius?
JULIAN: Old delicious and his Aloisious!
SANDY: Oy stifle yourself! Isn't he bold Mr Ryder? Ain't he bold!
JULIAN: Now let's have a vada at this garden.
RYDER: It's through here.. .
JULIAN: Yes, you have your Florentine marble
SANDY: Comes lovely in Florentine marble
JULIAN: Or you have your ceramics.
SANDY: Oh, fab ceramics - all hand done by a disciple of William Morris in Ladbroke Grove.0r, Jules, wait a minute, how do you see his patio?
JULIAN: Don't rush me, don't rush me - it's beginning come over me in waves. I see it as a miniature version of the piazza in Florence.
SANDY: Oh, it's a breakthrough! Mr. Ryder, he's broken through. No - no - wait a minute - no - it won't work -

RYDER: Perhaps it won't work because all our loves are merely hints and symbols; vagabond-language scrawled on gate-posts and paving-stones along the weary road that others have tramped before us; perhaps you and I are types and this sadness which sometimes falls between us springs from disappointment in our search, each straining through and beyond the other, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow which turns the corner always a pace or two ahead of us.

PRODNOSE: But then again, perhaps not.

MYSELF: Ooh bold!

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