That bird is insane, said Pliny the Elder. No bird is capable of using the subjunctive.
You mean Victor? I said. I agree he is a bit eccentric, but you must admit he is a bird himself. And that he made direct use of the subjunctive.
Hmmph! said Pliny, unreasonably. Use of the subjunctive mood in English is easy. But if....
Just then the doorbell rang loudly. It was a courier with a parcel addressed to Pliny the Elder.
Pliny opened it. Inside was another parcel, wrapped. He began to tear at the wrapping paper.
This will be my book, he said. At last!
The wrapping paper fell away to reveal a large hard-backed book, entitled Pliny's Women.
He stared at the book with distaste.
What's the matter Pliny? Is it the wrong book? I asked.
No, he said. It's the right book, but look! The cover is pink!
It looks quite tasteful, I said soothingly. I suppose the publishers chose pink because the book's about women, and it was written by a woman.
Great Jupiter, was it? Pliny looked even more alarmed.
Don't worry Pliny, if you don't like it, I'll cover it with brown paper. I've got a big roll of it in the pantry.
If you would, said Pliny.
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2 comments:
Pliny the Elder seems to get more petulent. Is it his realisation of the reality of his virtuality or his morphing into Pliny the Older.
Yes, virtual Victor brings out the worst in him. I think too that he's a bit anxious about the contents of Pliny's Women.
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