Showing posts with label William Henry Drummond. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William Henry Drummond. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

De Nice Leetle Canadienne, and other racist poems



William Henry Drummond, now. We "took" him in school in the '60s, by God, and were supposed to take him seriously. This was the "Canadian content" that the school board so desperately craved, so we took him, along with Bliss Carman and a few other hopeless schmaltz-mongers.

I remember my English teacher reading these out loud. She was thirty-seven years old, unmarried, and dressed like a frump. Her interpretations of the poems in her breathy, hesitant voice were awkward, but what can you expect? I seem to have a dim memory of hearing Drummond himself perform some of these tasty verses, but I may be wrong; he may have died in 1872 or something.

It used to be OK, even desirable, even necessary to "poke fun" at French-Canadians, to say that they had litters of children like puppies, that they were crude and ignorant and illiterate. If you said that now, they'd blow you to kingdom come.

A bunch of raving separatists, aren't they? But by yiminy, dey make dern-toonderin'-good cornbeef avec moutard.  Meantime, here's some awful Canadian non-history. I offer this one only because it's one of the few Drummond poems that is less than 6,000 lines long.  I have a theory as to why the lines are numbered: to give you hope. If you knew it would be over in 40 lines, you could somehow hang on and keep from screaming. Then again, maybe it was like hypnosis. . . with each. . . line. . . taking you. . . deeper. . . and deeper. . .

. . . into a coma.



De Nice Leetle Canadienne

1 You can pass on de worl' w'erever you lak,
2 Tak' de steamboat for go Angleterre,
3 Tak' car on de State, an' den you come back,
4 An' go all de place, I don't care--
5 Ma frien' dat 's a fack, I know you will say,
6 W'en you come on dis contree again,
7 Dere 's no girl can touch, w'at we see ev'ry day,
8 De nice leetle Canadienne.

9 Don't matter how poor dat girl she may be,
10 Her dress is so neat ab' so clean,
11 Mos' ev'rywan t'ink it was mak' on Paree
12 An' she wear it, wall! jus' lak de Queen.
13 Den come for fin' out she is mak' it herse'f,
14 For she ain't got moche monee for spen',
15 But all de sam' tam, she was never get lef',
16 Dat nice leetle Canadienne.







17 W'en 'un vrai Canayen' is mak' it mariƩe,
18 You t'ink he go leev on beeg flat
19 An' bodder hese'f all de tam, night an' day,
20 Wit' housemaid, an' cook, an' all dat?
21 Not moche, ma dear frien', he tak' de maison,

   

22 Cos' only nine dollar or ten,
23 W'ere he leev lak blood rooster, an' save de l'argent,
24 Wit' hees nice leetle Canadienne.

25 I marry ma famme w'en I 'm jus' twenty year,
26 An' now we got fine familee,
27 Dat skip roun' de place lak leetle small deer,
28 No smarter crowd you never see--
29 An' I t'ink as I watch dem all chasin' about,
30 Four boy an' six girl, she mak' ten,
31 Dat 's help mebbe kip it, de stock from run out,
32 Of de nice leetle Canadienne.






33 O she 's quick an' she 's smart, an' got plaintee heart,
34 If you know correc' way go about,
35 An' if you don't know, she soon tole you so
36 Den tak' de firs' chance an' get out;
37 But if she love you, I spik it for true,
38 She will mak' it more beautiful den,
39 An' sun on de sky can't shine lak de eye
40 Of dat nice leetle Canadienne.