A Little Bit of Comedy

alternate text



In London, even a day trip that doesn't go according to plan can lead to some of your literary (and comedy) heroes.  ♦
I’m assuming you’ve felt bored before. Maybe your parents took you to some shop that sold teacups or knitted animals when you were a kid, or your friends really wanted to see a movie that you had no absolutely no interest in. Whatever the case, this is exactly how I felt one afternoon going from clothes shop to clothes shop with a group of friends from our study abroad program called Literary London.

Originally the plan had been to go to one store to buy a jacket for a friend and myself. Each store was more expensive than the last, and only one of the stores remotely interested me, which of course had nothing below the $200 mark. The trip was seemingly hopeless, and to make matters worse the group decided this was going to become an all-day event when I’d only wanted a quick fifteen-to-twenty-minute trip. After a long series of vintage clothing stores with nothing in my price range, the group decided it was a good time for Instagram pictures. My spirits sank even further, since I don’t have Instagram and I hate pictures. But sometimes in life, a little bit of trouble makes up for the pain quick as lightning.

Seven Dials used to be an area known for criminal activities and complete lawlessness, according to one sign up on the wall of a clothing shop in today’s Seven Dials. Now, the area is a nice center for shopping and food, even downright innocent looking. When I first got to Seven Dials, I was tired, hungry, and I knew pictures were going to be taken soon. As we entered a small alley that led to a scenic courtyard, Neal's Yard, I was still a little disappointed. I was expecting more: where are the waterfalls and giant trees? It was pretty, but I was not really in the mood. Then, I looked up. What originally drew my attention was a large crane that I figured was once part of a warehouse that had been converted into living spaces and the shops around. A moment later, I spotted a wonderful little blue plaque on one of the walls which said simply, “Monty Python / Film Maker / Lived Here 1976-1987.”

This of course made little sense. How could a film company / comedy troupe live in that one place? Does the person who wrote the sign know that Monty Python is a group and not one person? But these questions fundamentally did not matter to me at the time: I was ecstatic at seeing a place where the people who made one of my favorite movies had been. (I later found out with research that the company’s animating studio was here.)

Monty Python and the Holy Grail is far up on the list of the best comedies of all time. From the iconic killer rabbit to the coconuts as horses, this movie made a wonderful mockery of King Arthur. The deadpan lines of the anti-monarch peasants can always make me cry from laughing. The entire day was now worth it. I did not care about shopping or pictures, but I do love Monty Python. For me, this became a wonderful example of literary tourism and unexpectedly engaging with the past.

Marking Monty Python

“Literary” is a broad term, and books alone aren't the sum of the literary arts. Movies can easily be considered literature, too, if literature is fundamentally the use of communication to tell a story. Monty Python and the Holy Grail might not be the first thing that comes to mind when you think of “serious” literature—like the kind of ancient and somber stories our class that summer was reading—but it was actually in a medieval literature class where I first watched the full movie. The professor brought up Chaucer, someone I think had the same idea as Monty Python. Half of The Canterbury Tales is made up of fart jokes and making fun of hypocrites. The other half is a lesson on humility and doing what is right. English history is often presented so seriously, the same with English literature, but Monty Python gave themselves permission to take both down a peg. I find something uniquely humanizing about watching The Holy Grail and seeing the knights goof around for an hour and some change. The knights are dumb, the challenges ridiculous, the budget for the film was next to nothing, yet it became the love of millions of people, maybe because it reminds us to not take life too seriously.

Seeing the plaque took me back to watching the movie while my professor fervently spoke on Chaucer’s love of combining a joke with a lesson. A small blue smudge on the side of a red brick building hidden away in a beautiful courtyard reminded me that everywhere we go, there is a little bit of comedy and literature to see.

About the Author
Nathan Corns is a student at Miami University majoring in English Literature and Zoology. He is an avid reader and lover of history. He is going into his second year and hopes to continue to find the jokes in old literature that people take too seriously.

Post a Comment

Previous Post Next Post

Contact Form