This poem makes no senes at all. Is it trasnlateable if you substitute letters or something? Is there a secret message in it?
Can anybody direct me to a work on this, that might explain what the poem is expressing?
I’m sure there’s hundreds more.
The poem means exactly what it says. It was an attempt to tell an intelligible story with nonsense words.
There are French and German translations presented in Gödel, Escher, Bach that are interesting to read.
According to the speculative fiction short story “Mimsy Were the Borogroves”, Lewis Carrol’s “Jabberwocky” is actually a recipe for teleporting yourself into another dimension.
ralph, the poem is explained in the very same book. Humpty-Dumpy has a short dissertation on the meaning.
Here’s a website with several dozen translations into Russian. The site’s author invites submissions, saying “Jabberwocky can be translated endlessly into Russian”
The poem makes perfect sense. It’s about a man who kills a monster. A lot of the words just don’t make sense.
A (Very) Brief Explication of Lewis Carroll’s “Jabberwocky”.
*Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought –
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did Gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe. *
This is probably the best known poem of Lewis Carroll - better known than even “The Hunting of the Snark,” and certainly subjected to more criticism, analysis, and satirization than any of Carroll’s other poems. First published in 1871, the poem appears at the end of the first chapter of Through the Looking-Glass. But what does this poem mean - or does it have meaning at all? One notable authority on the poem - a somewhat enigmatic figure known to the literary world only as “Alice,” has been quoted as saying “somehow it seems to fill my head with ideas - only I don’t know exactly what they are!”. Perhaps a paraphrasing of the poem will help clear up some of the confusion.
It was about 4:00 P.M. and the lithe/slimy badgers who look like lizards with corkscrew heads
Were spinning around in circles and boring holes in the grassy area around the sundial.
All flimsy/miserable were the shabby looking birds,
And the little green pigs that are far from home bellow, sneeze, and whistle.
Watch out for the Jabberwock, my son.
He’s got jaws that bite and he’ll catch you with his claws.
And beware the Jubjub bird, too.
Not to mention the fuming/furious Bandersnatch.
He got his voracious sword.
He looked for a long time for his enemy from the island.
Then he stopped and rested by the Tumtum tree.
And thought for a while.
And while he was so gruffishly, roughishly, and huffishly thinking,
The Jabberwock, with burning eyes,
Came quietly flapping through the dark and smelly forest -
and bleated, murmured, and warbled as he flew!
Hack, hack, slash, and back!
The voracious sword went thhhppttt!
He left the corpse, but kept the head.
And hopped, limped, and dragged himself home.
Have you killed the Jabberwock?
It’s Miller Time, my boy!
What a triumphant day! Hip-hip hooray!
He chuckled/snorted in his joy.
It was about 4:00 P.M. and the lithe/slimy badgers who look like lizards with corkscrew heads
Were spinning around in circles and boring holes in the grassy area around the sundial.
All flimsy/miserable were the shabby looking birds,
And the little green pigs that are far from home bellow, sneeze, and whistle.
The meaning of the poem should now be abundantly clear to even the most inebriated and slovenly reader. It is clearly an accounting of a bloody, vicious, and protracted battle between a clean-cut, virtuous, Anglo-Saxon youth and the forces of sheer evil, personified in this instance by the Jabberwock. Youth and beauty are ultimately victorious, as they have historically been - and rightfully so. It is a saga told by a grateful benefactor of this brave youth’s deeds - a local villager perhaps, who had seen far too many of his friends and relatives snacked upon by the Jabberwock, and saw fit to immemorialize the monster’s glorious demise.
The poem is a beautifully written tale, full of sound and fury. It starts out in a wonderfully peaceful manner: one visualizes an English garden - summer - teatime. The curious animals are frolicking about the sundial, and the entire scene conjures in the mind the peaceful serenity of the opening few moments of a Bugs Bunny cartoon: sheer woodland tranquillity, with classical music playing softly and aimlessly in the background. Slowly, though, the reader gains a sense that something exciting and adventurous is about to happen: the father is seen to be coaching his son for some stupendous undertaking. It is clearly evident that the son’s life is soon to be put in mortal jeopardy. Then, to the chase. With blood pounding in the reader’s head, and adrenaline coursing through his body like water through the Titanic’s hull, the son is off through the woods in pursuit of his elusive prey. The atmosphere in the poem bristles with high voltage tension as an encounter with the Jabberwock is expected at any second. Then, all of a sudden, screeeeeech - the damn kid stops under a tree to ponder his fate. Like steam slowly venting from a Chinese laundry, the reader’s tension level is lowered in cathartic agony as he is reduced to quivering Silly Putty. But the savvy reader will realize that this is nothing more than a clever plot device, and that the son is soon to meet his destiny. And, sure enough, the son is soon roused from his ruminations by none other than - the Jabberwock! Now to the real chase. With blood pounding and adrenaline flowing again, the reader is treated to a veritable smorgasbord of guts and gore as the Jabberwock is reduced by the village’s virtuous messiah to a puddle of oozing hamburger. Yes! Yes! Yes! What a warm and satisfying glow the reader feels as the hero galumphs home to his proud father, with the grotesque head of the Jabberwock dripping a trail of what is undoubtedly some shade of bluish-green blood all the way. Then, just as the last remnants of unbearable tension subside, the reader is once again propelled into a state of frenzied emotion. But this time he is overcome by waves of gushing mawkishness as tears of joy issue forth from his eyes to fall upon the paper he is reading from. For the son has arrived home - safe and sound - to present to his ebullient father the head of the Jabberwock. And now, finally, the circle of fate has come full circle. (As well it should - it is after all, a circle). With a gentle hand, the reader is transported back to where it all started; in an English garden. Magically, no time has passed; for it still 4:00 P.M. on a summer’s breezy eve, and all is well in the kingdom. Et annuit coeptis.
One cannot read this poem without himself feeling the overwhelming debt of gratitude that the humble peasants feel towards their hero. The poem’s lyrical qualities clearly indicate that they intended it to be recited in an almost sing-song manner. One can easily envision the villagers, young and old, joyously reciting the epic of the Jabberwock’s demise in unison as they thresh the grain and shear the oxen. The words that they so carefully chose, and the happy, bouncy meter that the ode is written in, show that “Jabberwocky” is intended to be enjoyed by all; to be passed down from generation to generation, undoubtedly as part of an oral tradition.
The choice of simple, short sentences, and the use of portmanteau words indicate that the writer wanted to keep the poem simple and easy to memorize. Each sentence is more or less the same length, again lending a sing-song quality to its meter. The use of the portmanteau words is a beautiful incorporation: it enables the lines to convey exactly what the writer wants to say, without resorting to excessive wordiness - which would detract from the soaring emotionalism of the poem. This use of portmanteau words is particularly effective in the first and last verses. Saying that the toves are slithy paints an immediate picture of sleek gracefulness - that they were lithe and slimy indicates that they conduct their activities with grace and sophistication - with their sleek, well-oiled bodies lending themselves perfectly to the task of boring holes in the sundial’s mound. This places them in diametric opposition to the borogoves, who simply stand around outgrabing their miserable heads off and looking like tenth rate, malnourished ostriches. The message is clear: there are those who live life to the fullest, pursuing their goals with purpose and determination - as opposed to others who choose to simply observe these activities with apathetic listlessness.
The rhyme scheme also lends itself well to memorization: seven verses, four lines in each verse, with the first and third and second and fourth lines rhyming with each other. Beautiful. Even the most feeble-minded dolt can memorize the poem, assuring that it would stand the test of time and be passed through successive generations unchanged. As a further measure of built-in perpetuity, some of the words have a quasi-onomatopoetic quality. Can the reader not hear the Jabberwock “whiffling” through the air as it flaps its monstrous wings? Can one not simply hear the father’s jubilant “chortle” as he gleefully effuses bodily fluids in the face of his triumphant son?
Yes, this poem will stand the test of time: for it was written as an expression of heartfelt gratitude. It was written in a simpler time, in a simpler place, by simpler people. But it shall stand as a testament to the human spirit, and it shall serve as a reminder for us all: because Jabberwocks abound in every facet of our existence, and they will surface periodically to test our resolve, our courage, and our dignity. May we all have occasion to patronize the taxidermist at some point in our lives.
Washoe that was a beautifully constructed load of wormcast. The real meaning could be neither more obvious nor more opposed to your translation.
The father warns his son away from the Jabberwock for good reason. But, the son foolishly ignores his dad’s advice. How is it that such a fearsome monster dies so easily? The answer is that he doesn’t. Most people are unaware the Carrol wrote the full version of the poem in a small book with parchment made of human skin.
"As hero slept that grungled night,
The trophy shoobled and vimmed and daggled flames
The Jaberwock bit through our hero’s eyes so bright
and filled his foozled flesh with its pergomiddle veins
With a crack a crash and many a vikklen
the house burst like a ripe hoople berry
Adorned in a finery and armed with steel fichekklen
The Jabberwock buffled off to shmgoosht the unwary."
Before anybody brings up that idiotic theory that Carrol was Jack the Ripper, it should be noted that he obtained the skin by purchasing stillborn infants. He hid both the book and the full version of the poem. Though he would occasionally have a priest shout the poem while prepubescent girls dressed as men would whip Carrol with the pickled boars’ penises. That detail, I should think, makes the real meaning of the poem clear to even the dullest of readers.
That essay was written as pure humor, and played to the hilt. Besides, my English professor gave me an "A’ on that essay, so that’s all I care about. 
DocCathode, am I being whooshed are are you serious?
noc_tick:
now ask yourself that again.
btw (sort of), I donno if he knows the meaning, but FinnAgain sure can recite this poem on a dime.
Nocturnal Tick The only bits I did not make up on the spot (Washoe’s essay being literally inspiring) are the word pergomiddle (Stolen from an oath of alegiance in the game Entomorph-Plague Of The Darkfall) and that there is indeed a ludicrous theory that Carrol’s work reveals that he was Jack The Ripper.
http://www.straightdope.com/classics/a970307a.html
In complete seriousness, my guess is that the Jabberwocky is utterly without deeper meaning. Carrol’s only intention was to write a poem that was entertaining, catchy, and used nonsense words. The only real question is whether he intentionally wrote it so that it fit the tune of Greensleeves, or if that is simply a coincidence.
Is it kinda wrong for me to be disappointed that it isn’t true?
Of course I knew it was fabricated…honest…
Excellent work with the last two verses though, Doc.
Sorry, Doc, but it appears you have been fooled by a forgery—or, at best, a work in progress. The real Lewis Carroll would have taken care to perfect the scansion. “Take care of the sounds and the sense will take care of itself.”
Years ago I saw a book of translations by Vladimir Nabokov; Jabberwocky was one of them. I’m still kicking myself for not buying that book. Can’t remember the details now - it was a long time ago - but it takes a special and super-bilingual person to do that.
We actually discussed translating Jabberwocky years ago, in a linguistics class I audited. I felt really sorry for the Japanese girl in the class, who wasn’t entirely fluent in English. Poetry translation is one of the most difficult literary undertakings in existence, but Jabberwocky must take the cake.
I can’t find the darn thing online - if someone has better luck, please post a link.
There’s actually some brief explenation in Through the Looking Glass about what is what. Here’s Humpty’s brief summary
And, mwahahahah.
We’ve got nevermore posting to the Dope again.
From the next page on the same website, some more of Carrol’s text this time in a letter
Whoops! Didn’t realize annie had already posted that website. ~hangs head in shame~
And I’m tripple posting!
~escapes~
Okay, quadruple posting, I am officially evil. But I figured people might like the Complete Text
(I believe that it’s now public domain material. If I am wrong, could a mod please break the link?)