NOTES ON ISSUE 13: ALLUSIONS

 

His hair could not have been more violently on end, if it had been that moment dressed by the Cow with the crumpled horn in the house that Jack built.

The illustration below, from an 1820 edition of the familiar child’s story about “The House that Jack Built,” shows the cow with the crumpled horn: “This is the cow with the crumpled Horn, that tossed the Dog, that worried the Cat, that killed the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built” (10).



The story as a whole goes:

This is the House that Jack built. This is the Malt that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Rat that eat the Malt that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Cat that killed the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Dog that worried the Cat, that killed the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Cow with the crumpled Horn, that tossed the Dog, that worried the Cat, that killed the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Maiden all forlorn, that milked the Cow with the crumpled Horn, that tossed the Dog, that worried the Cat, that killed the Rat, that eat the Malt that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Man all tattered and torn, that kissed the Maiden all forlorn, that milked the Cow with the crumpled Horn, that tossed the Dog, that worried the Cat, that killed the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Priest all shaven and shorn, that married the Man all tattered and torn, to the Maiden all forlorn, that milked the Cow with the crumpled Horn, that tossed the Dog, that worried the Cat, that killed the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. This is the Cock that crowed in the morn, that waked the Priest all shaven and shorn, that married the Man all tattered and torn, that kissed the Maiden all forlorn, that milked the Cow with the crumpled Horn, that tossed the Dog that worried the Cat, that killed the Rat, that eat the Malt, that lay in the House that Jack built. (5-14)

“I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die.”

This passage appears in John 11:25-6, and forms the opening portion of the Burial Service in the Book of Common Prayer (Sanders 153). In its biblical context, it precedes Jesus’ resurrection of Lazarus, and reads, “Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this?” 

…and for to-morrow’s victims then awaiting their doom in the prisons, and still of to-morrow’s and to-morrow’s…

This account of tomorrow’s victims, and tomorrow’s and tomorrow’s, echoes a famous passage in Shakespeare’s Macbeth (V.v.17-28). Receiving news of his queen’s death, Macbeth responds:

She would have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

…and for a little while it seemed as if Creation were delivered over to Death’s dominion.

“Death’s dominion” here echoes Romans 6:9, which reads, in part, “Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over him.” The passage as a whole recommends that every individual emulate Christ and avoid sin. Paris, which Carton observes at the height of the Terror, is not only given over to the dominion of Death (in the form of the guillotine), but also to a religious infidelity which – the biblical echo suggests – is more fatal still.

There could have been no such Revolution, if all laws, forms, and ceremonies, had not first been so monstrously abused, that the suicidal vengeance of the Revolution was to scatter them all to the winds.

The scattering to the winds echoes Ezekiel 17:21 – part of a set of prophetic verses in which the Lord tells Ezekiel to prophesy that He will avenge Himself upon those who break his covenant or disdain his commands:

Therefore thus saith the Lord God; As I live, surely mine oath that he hath despised, and my covenant that he hath broken, even it will I recompense upon his own head. And I will spread my net upon him, and he shall be taken in my snare, and I will bring him to Babylon, and will plead with him there for his trespass that he hath trespassed against me. And all his fugitives with all his bands shall fall by the sword, and they that remain shall be scattered toward all winds: and ye shall know that I the Lord have spoken it. (17:19-21)

In A Tale of Two Cities, the echo of this biblical passage suggests that the “suicidal vengeance” of the Revolution was in a sense the inevitable consequence of bad faith.