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The Emperor of Ice Cream
Today was the first BSU Leadership team meeting. I can now say that my confident pessimism will sweep through the BSU like locusts on a wheat field.
The same hold true for the meaningless honor society, MortarBoard. Although, I have to tell you it’s the most prestigious honor on campus since I’m in it.
I’m kind of spent, people, so today I’m going to teach you an English lesson. Have you ever read something without knowing its ulterior meaning? Let me share with you the idea of a conceit in literary works. Today’s example is The Emperor of Ice Cream, by William Carlos Stevens.
Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Take a minute to digest the poem.
Record your thoughts mentally.
Meditate on it some.
Don’t scroll down to the answer too soon.
Prepare to be shocked…
So yeah, some lady died and people are sad.
Seems like an ordinary enough of a poem, right?
That’s what I thought…
But, why are the flowers wrapped in last month’s newspaper?
Why do the wenches dawdle in dress as they are used to wear?
Why do her horny feet protrude?
The answer: she’s a prostitute. Yep, and the Emperor of Ice Cream is a pimp. For you see, a conceit is a very surprising metaphor in literature. If you don’t believe me, read the poem again with the answer I have provided in mind. I, for one, wouldn’t normally associate imperialism or ice cream with pimping. This is when I learned that English teachers look for meaning where there is none.
The same hold true for the meaningless honor society, MortarBoard. Although, I have to tell you it’s the most prestigious honor on campus since I’m in it.
I’m kind of spent, people, so today I’m going to teach you an English lesson. Have you ever read something without knowing its ulterior meaning? Let me share with you the idea of a conceit in literary works. Today’s example is The Emperor of Ice Cream, by William Carlos Stevens.
Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Take a minute to digest the poem.
Record your thoughts mentally.
Meditate on it some.
Don’t scroll down to the answer too soon.
Prepare to be shocked…
So yeah, some lady died and people are sad.
Seems like an ordinary enough of a poem, right?
That’s what I thought…
But, why are the flowers wrapped in last month’s newspaper?
Why do the wenches dawdle in dress as they are used to wear?
Why do her horny feet protrude?
The answer: she’s a prostitute. Yep, and the Emperor of Ice Cream is a pimp. For you see, a conceit is a very surprising metaphor in literature. If you don’t believe me, read the poem again with the answer I have provided in mind. I, for one, wouldn’t normally associate imperialism or ice cream with pimping. This is when I learned that English teachers look for meaning where there is none.