ON June 6, 1988, I had the privilege of being in Westminster Abbey’s Poets’ Corner for the unveiling by Sir Hugh Casson, president of the Royal Academy, of a plaque to Edward Lear. The location was apt, as Lear is known throughout the English speaking world as the greatest of all nonsense poets, creator of The Owl and the Pussy-Cat and the land of the Chankly Bore. However, the inscription defining him as ‘Painter and Poet’ rightly prioritises his greatest achievement.
The opening verse of one of his numerous poems begins: ‘How pleasant to know Mr Lear!/ Who has written such volumes of stuff;/ Some think him ill-tempered and queer,/But a few think him pleasant enough.’ Although he had a wide circle of friends, especially Franklin Lushington and Emily Tennyson, I suspect few people, apart from his sister Ann and his Suliot servant, Giorgio Kokali, really knew him in all his many facets. There were within his ungainly body—which
