The London Lounge

Maybe not an obviously cheerful subject - but maybe it could be - dying is the very last part of living and can be carried off with elegance. This thread is to ask for anecdotes about great passing moments - and humour has a place here too. Bing Crosby' s last words were "That was a great game of golf fellas" and I also like the story of the great sportsman (whose name escapes me) who reached a ripe old age and fell off the twig having just shot a high rising woodcock.
NJS

76 views and not a single comment - OK so I'll just sit right down and write myself a letter .... I think that as the world becomes more secular, we pretend that death is for other people only....Anyone able to give us Voltaire's last words in French?
NJS

storeynicholas wrote:76 views and not a single comment - OK so I'll just sit right down and write myself a letter .... I think that as the world becomes more secular, we pretend that death is for other people only....Anyone able to give us Voltaire's last words in French?
NJS

What follows is perhaps not surprising as it sounds.
When I read your original post, my first thought was for Voltaire. Given his ability to produce "bon mots" at the drop of a hat and his attitude towards the church, I thought I would find something snappy to quote (and I half remebered something with a bit more vim). Well, the only quote from Wikipedia, from a few months before his death, is this platitudinous phrase: « Je meurs en adorant Dieu, en aimant mes amis, en ne haïssant pas mes ennemis, en détestant la superstition. » Nothing from the actual death bed. Has Wikipedia been bowdlerized?
I am still racking my brain for other famous last words. I shall write if anything comes to mind.
Frog in Suit

Martin Amis writes beautifully in his autobiography, Experience, about Cecil Day Lewis's last days (spent at Amis's father, Kingsley's house, Lemmons). In this passage, he begins by quoting a character in Iris Murdoch's Nuns and Soldiers:

"'I do want to die well. But how is it done?' Contra Dylan Thomas, it is done by going gently. Cecil went gently. As an admirer ... I skirted around the dying Day Lewis. But his equanimity, his stillness, drew me in closer. It was an extraordinary demonstration. He was showing you how you could keep your self-possession, right to the end; you still had your permanent soul. Tamasin came. Daniel came. And the dying got done. These are the last lines of his last poem, 'At Lemmons':

a bloom of
magnolia uttering its requiems,
A climate of acceptance. Very well.
I accept my weakness with my friends'
Good natures sweetening every day my sick room."

Philip Larkin, of course, would disagree:

"Courage is no good:
I means not scaring others. Being brave
Let's no one off the grave.
Death is no different whined at than withstood."

Mention of poets recalls Auden's last poem:


He still loves life
but O O O O how he wishes
the Good Lord would take him.


Bach's Art of Fugue and Mozart's Requiem must also rate as impressive examples of elegant dying.

Mon cher Grenouille,
Le francais que j'ecris est vraiment execrable et je vous empris de m'excuser: mais:

A la chambre ou Voltaire mourirait est venu le pretre, qui a lui demande: 'Renoncez vous le diable et toutes ses travailles?" et Voltaire a repondu:

'Ceci n'est pas le temps de faire les enemmies'.
Please feel free to correct!! Anyway, provided that you get the general sense (and whether apocryphal or not) one of the very best.........and from across the pond too!!
NJS

storeynicholas wrote: 'Ceci n'est pas le temps de faire les enemmies'.

Excellent, but probably apocryphal.
The priests must have made sure there was no er, unreliable witnesses, in case the proposed deathbed conversion failed to materialize.
I think he would have said: "Ce n'est pas le moment de me faire des ennemis".

Frog in Suit

I rather like the epitaph Spike Milligan suggested for himself: "I told you I was ill"

The dying command of James Lawrence in 1813 aboard the USS Chesapeake, "Don't give up the ship!"

Dear Frog,
Now you have a perfect demonstration of the linguistic capacity of at least one Englishman so, reflecting upon your very kind correction (especially bearing in mind the the inclusion of my truly terrible misspelling), I am reverting to English now! I am sure that the story is apocryphal - like so many of the best stories!
NJS.

I was very amused when I read the article entitled "The Funeral" written by Sir Lancelot of the Noveporte. Then I thought better and realized that, indeed, considering how most funerals take place, it is quite unreasonable to leave the last Exit to chance.
Here is my attempted translation - I must say the original has a lot of good and subtle humour, all of which I am not sure I was able to render in English (for ease of reading I won't post it in "quote" mode):

It happens only once in a lifetime. Once accomplished it can’t be redone, which is why it is worth doing well to avoid any disgrace. I am referring to our funeral. As I already suggested for the obituary, the best thing would be to organize everything well in advance, getting into contact with your trusted undertaker to choose the coffin, the kind of vehicle (avoid the grandiose type, such as the adapted Rolls Royce, they are so very parvenu!), the quality and the quantity of the required services. To be sure our orders will be carried out correctly (and to avoid the parsimony of the Heirs In Dismay), we shall choose a Major Undertaker that offers the guarantee of a long trade history and we shall pay in advance. Our inheritors will think of us with admiration also thanks to the fact they won’t be compelled to fill in a substantial cheque.
As far as the entombment is concerned, if we don’t have at least a place in an aristocratic chappel or in a family tomb, we are nobody. The respect we enjoy shall be greater if we own a family tomb. Our place in the cemetery shall be a status symbol more than a berth in a port for our yacht. On our tombstone - just name and surname with birthdate and date of death (to avoid unpleasant name coincidences). Photographs and other vile gildings of any kind are absolutely forbidden. If we insist – a sober, elegant flower vase. I shall never tire of repeating that elegance is above all simplicity.
Now to the grand day. Once our last breath expires, a designated person shall immediately announce the undertaker who will arrange the mortuary room and the exhibition of our body. Two possibilities. We shall be enveloped in a white sheet or we shall be dressed in a dark suit (better yet if we have our own morning suit). Don’t forget the beard. It grows after death and a gentleman never shows himself with an untrimmed beard. Over our body – few, but splendid flowers. A touch of transgression could be our favourite flower (not a Bird of Paradise flower!) in the lapel buttonhole. One of the Grieving Family shall order a cushion with our favourite flowers and publish our obituary. If a massive affluence of flowers is expected, the obituary shall specify “Thanking in advance, you are kindly asked to direct the amounts destined to flowers and eventual obituaries to ******”, specifying our preferred aid organization.
The intimate friends of our Grieving Family shall do their best to help them receive the persons who shall arrive to present their condoleances. If during our lifetime we have been particularly forthright, many shall come to verify that we are indeed defunct so they may breathe a sigh with relief. The dress of gentlemen and ladies attending shall be dark, though without exaggerating with black. Avoid at all costs the presence of babies and children under 14-16 years of age. They could, eventually, join the funeral convoy, but it will still be too much. The visits shall be short (30 minutes at most) and attendants shall avoid bringing vile plastic containers with undrinkable coffee and other kinds of so-called comfort. Also to avoid – a phenomenon much common in South – praying nuns with orphan girls and mercenary women who, against payment, bemoan our departure. Our Grieving Family shall manifest gratitude for participation with mournful silences and sad smiles. Not to forget the book where the attendants sign so that thank you letters may be sent out later. Avoid like the plague sinister souvenirs such as photographs on the deathbed (unless you are a Pope) or wax funeral masks.
Once the funeral wake ends, our body shall be set in the casket. Also to avoid are walking funeral convoys, home to church and then on to the cemetery. They only serve to jam the traffic and the thoughts of the stuck drivers’ thoughts won’t be a good Viaticum for the afterlife. At the convoy and funeral service, if nothing else at least out of respect for our Eternal Memory, our Grieving Dears and Nears shall participate dressed suitably. Men shall avoid long beards, crumpled suits and sunglasses in the middle of winter. For ladies – very light makeup and dark clothes, once again without exaggering with the black.
If you have any religious beliefs, the funeral service should be the shortest possible. The Grieving Family shall ensure (eventually with an adequate pourboir) that the funeral speech of the priest, rabi or imam shall be as short and concise as possible. We have already bored our acquintances during our lifetime, let us avoid doing it on the occasion of our last (save reincarnation) social event.
Once the funeral service is over, our Mournful Relatives shall greet on the steps of che Church, Sinagogue, Mosque or, at any rate, at the exit from the place where the last adieu ritual took place, all those who came to salute and ensure that ours was not a case of apparent death.
A small number of the most intimate Grieving Nears and Dears shall escort us on the last trip to the cemetery. If we have opted (as I suggest) for cremation, the litle group shall accompany us to the burning place to collect our ashes (we shall have chosen the urn beforehand) and do with it that which we decided long before death. Eventual beaux gestes such as ashes to the sea or other rites we may have decided in advance shall be carried out discreetly, without bells and whistles. Also avoid convoys with brass bands in New Orleans style.
Three, four weeks after your final Exit, the Thankful Heirs shall personally express appreciation to all those who commiserated. A stamped card with an adquate phrase of sincere gratitude shall be perfect. I would avoid the black frame: from the text it shall be easy to understand it is not a greeting card.
In conclusion, it is important that we are boringly meticulous about our funeral. We won’t have the opportunity to excuse ourselves with a second occasion.

Dear Costi,
What a magnificent effort and a joy to read. I doubt whether it could be more amusing in the original. I was just thinking of people who realize just before it happens that they are falling off the twig and a couple spring to mind: the explorer Sir Richard Burton called out " I am a dead man" and, apparently, George IV grasped an attending page's hand and said "This is death my boy".
NJS

Dear Costi,
Bravo!
I read somewhere that Scottish funerals end up with the men standing around the freshly-filled grave sharing whisky and oatcakes. Is there any truth to that? Have any rescuscitations occurred as aresult?:twisted:

Frog in Suit

I am not sure about the Scottish tradition, mentioned by FiS, except that I understand that Highlanders used to bury their dead with a pinch of earth and salt, respectively representing the corruptible and the incorruptible. I have always been uncertain as to the meaning of the resurrection of the body: presumably, if , on the Day Of Judgement, we rise and ascend, as did Christ (or are destined to descend in some cases), our bodies are not ultimately left corroded at all; which raises other questions - such as clothing in the after-life and will Meyer and Weston return to the arduous task of fitting Brummell and will WSC pay his bootmaker on the nail? Meanwhile where are they, pending the Last Trump.? I have never found anyone to explain this to me and, although I can accept that some have a belief in trans-substantiation of the Host, I cannot, for the life of me, begin to comprehend the concept of Purgatory or a Limbo, which last, presumably: 'Till a' the seas gang, dry my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun...' .
NJS

NJS wrote:I have always been uncertain as to the meaning of the resurrection of the body: presumably, if , on the Day Of Judgement, we rise and ascend, as did Christ (or are destined to descend in some cases), our bodies are not ultimately left corroded at all; which raises other questions - such as clothing in the after-life and will Meyer and Weston return to the arduous task of fitting Brummell and will WSC pay his bootmaker on the nail?

The central theme of the general resurrection is not to destroy the old and restart on a new plan, but to renew and rescue. Our bodies will be in most ways the same as they were before, but repaired and refreshed. Since the original bodies have long since rotted, the bodies will be recreated, and I certainly expect clothes and most human industries to be part of heaven. God is not saying in the bible: 'Oops; the whole idea was mistake; switch to plan B with the harps and clounds.', but instead aims to stick with the original plan, which must be correct since it was His idea; the difference the second time around is that we will get it right. Hence I think there will indeed be tailors, and we will all have plenty of time to learn if we want.

NJS wrote:Meanwhile where are they, pending the Last Trump.? I have never found anyone to explain this to me and, although I can accept that some have a belief in trans-substantiation of the Host, I cannot, for the life of me, begin to comprehend the concept of Purgatory or a Limbo.

Purgatory is indeed an indefensible idea (disclaimer: to my knowledge) which originated in mediaeval mysticism, and unlike orthodox doctrine cannot be traced back to early sources (early being ~40-50 A.D.). The 'problem' of 'where' souls go 'before' the last judgement only presents itself if you make the (unnecessary) assumption that time runs at a constant rate even after death. Prominent passages here would include the ascension of Enoch and Elijah, or Matt. 22:32. Transubstantiation is a strange idea; many statements, like "I am the vine", have never been interpreted literally, thus giving no reason to believe none of his statements figurative, and in this case it is nearly impossible to make the case for literalism, as in the first instance the real body and the bread were physically distinct. All of these ideas, to my mathmatician's mind, fail to satisfy rigour, and in fact, while a third to a half of the faculty here is christian, only one that I know of is Roman Catholic.

NJS wrote:'Till a' the seas gang, dry my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun....'

I like the 'Turtle dove' lines: since we are neither "married nor given in marriage", it would seem that the protagonist's romantic love will indeed last 'until' the end of this world.

I find it tragically ironic that death is so certain, yet most people I know would be totally unprepared if it struck the today, when in fact it is worth the most serious consideration; our sartorial bliss is at stake after all.

On topic at last, the best last word must be "τετελεσται" ("it is finished"), for the simple reason that, if true, it is the most significant statement ever made. It seems to me that this is the epitome of elegance; not pridefully showing off how clever you are even at the last moment, like Voltaire (allegedly), but being instead quietly understated.

NCW