Notable Nobs Not Unpleasant To Know: Letter M

In his nonsense verse "How pleasant to know Mr. Lear" the popularizer of the limerick makes amusing observations about himself. In the octaves below readers are urged to discover equally intriguing characters who, it's hoped, will prove just as amusing and, in the end, just as "not unpleasant to know." 


     Not un-
pleasant to know? Taj Mahal,
     christened 
Henry Saint Clair but called 'Taj' --
     a man 
born ‘midst the Apple's grim sprawl
     but brought 
up in an artist's menage. 
     Though 'twas 
farming Taj loved first of all,
     he e-
volved his artistic collage --
     did this 
maestro of notes, Taj Mahal --
     nor's his 
art some Death Valley mirage.

     Not un-
pleasant to know? Mr. Maugham
     (that's the 
Maugham most call W. Somerset) --
     widely 
scanned from New Jersey to Nam,
     rarely 
panned by the Smart (or the dumber) Set.     
     This phe-
nom signed his work (no faux noms)
     when he 
penned his best stuff. I've read some: a set
     graces 
many a shelf. Mr. Maugham
     ate those 
prize-winners' meals only comers 'et.

    Not un-
pleasant to know? One McGonagall,* 
     who was 
Edinburgh-born -- not of Donegal. 
     Consult 
every poetical chronical; 
     hit each 
British Lit Hist'ry you wanna, pal: 
     William 
Topaze's po'ms are canonical
     as the 
worst verses...ever! Ironical? 
     Not at 
all. Not-unpleasant McGonagall
     augurs 
Edgar Guest...and that Madonna gal.
     * William Topaze McGonagall, so-called world's worst poet.

     Not un-
pleasant to know? Mr. Milligan,*
      christened 
Terence Al Pat Sean (not "Spike”). 
     Who can 
pen bits of clowning that kill? He can. 
     (Those who 
think not can just take a hike.) 
    The Goons 
thrilled us back then; will they thrill again?
     Where be 
new Harrys,** Petes,*** Mikes****...their like? 
     Where, in-
deed's, the next pleasant Spike Milligan?
     (Are you 
list'ning, Miranda Hart-Dyke?)
     * Terence Allan Patrick Sean ("Spike") Milligan 
     ** Harry Secombe 
     *** Peter Sellers 
     **** Michael Bentine

     Not un-
pleasant to know: Monsieur Marzials.*
     Does he 
pen ze woist po'ms evva written? 
     Or's The-
-ophile handed ze raw deal?
     Are his 
po'ms but ze woist writ in Britain?
     All ze 
metrical skills of ze harp seal
     he com-
bines in ze lines "Pour La Kitten" --
     does the 
pleasant-to-know Mr. Marzials. 
     (Even 
so: with Theo' we're still smitten.)
     * Theophile-Jules-Henri ("Theo") Marzials. It is difficult to locate the definitive pronunciation of Theo's family name: much depends upon the nationality of the pronouncer. In dealing with a poet of Theo's stature, however, such fine distinctions evaporate.

     Not un-
pleasant to know: Mrs. Moore,* 
     who's nee 
Julia Davis, from Michigan.
     Once I 
wished to know scores of her lore,
     but -- mein 
Gott! -- I would not wish such wish again.
     With Mc-
Gonagall, less is much more. 
     ditto: 
Moore. Don't allow her to swish her pen.
     Pray for 
pleasant-to-know Mrs. Moore:
     "May she 
never prove anyone's dish! Amen!"
     * Julia A. Moore

     Not un-
pleasant to know? Mother Goose.
     As does 
Rhea, the mother of Zeus,
     Mama 
G. lives to overproduce:
     scads of 
lads -- plus one female papoose.
     Ma, dolled 
up in a Moorish burnoose
     of char-
treuse with a lining of puce,
     cries, "O-
le! J'arrivé! Mme Goose!"
     as her 
ragbag of rhymes she lets loose.  

     Not un-
pleasant to know: Messrs Marx.*
     Did you 
know how one bro lead the band
     in which, 
on his career, Mel** embarks? 
     How a 
second sib played the harp...and 
     how his 
harping earned very high marks?
     How a 
third Marx embarrassed his friends,
     with his 
bites -- so much worse than his barks? 
     (Have you 
guessed whence this litany wends?)
     How a 
fourth peddled dresses? (Wot larks!)
     How a 
fifth mimed the first four? In sum:
      You've now 
heard of all (five!) Messrs Marx.
     But…from 
what does the sixth Marx (!) succumb?***
     * Chico, Harpo, Groucho, Gummo, Zeppo...and...? 
     ** Non other than the Velvet F(r)og himself, Mr. Torme. 
     *** For one answer (possibly definitive), cf the poem “Missing Her Marx”
appearing elsewhere within the blog.