Thursday, October 6, 2016

BEASTIE: Lord of the Lamp Post

You guessed it. Time for a new book from Star Pine!

Well, new in a sense. A generous excerpt from Beastie appeared in Andrew Blauner’s anthology Central Park a few years back, but the new Star Pine edition marks the first time the story has been available in its entirety. With pictures, no less.

To be brief and (I hope) enticing, Beastie is the story of my first encounter with the eponymous creature that lives in Central Park, who sleeps through the day in his little den at the bottom of Belvedere Castle, and only comes out at night “to forage in the trees for midnight luncheon” as the poem says, and to awaken the various statues who call the park home.

But I may already have said too much…

The account, set in the long-ago of my own fourth-grade year, has been written for everyone, but I would in particular recommend it to the young at heart, especially those whose hearts are, oh, eight years old and up, but especially especially to those hearts familiar with the park and its most crawl-able statuary. An admitted gluttony for baseball and baseball gloves wouldn’t hurt neither, but is not required.

I will below attach some of the drawings that have made their way onto the pages, along with a taste of the aforementioned poem - but only a taste - all by way of inviting you and yours to come and, at the proper hour, meet His Pointy-eared and Finger-nailed and Sharp-toothéd Majesty the Beastie, shaggy Beastie, Lord of the Lamp Post!

It’s only when the moon eludes the cloud-bank,
and every peering bedroom light goes dim,
when darkness looms in quiet rooms,
and closets stand like mummy’s tombs,
and the last child’s dream is finally entered in,

that’s when the shadow slips out from its dungeon,
and tumbles down to fetch itself a drink,
to forage in the trees for midnight luncheon,
and just like that make chiseled eyelids blink,
and fingers twitch, and noses itch
and round bronze shoulders sink.
From meer to lake, they’ll all awake,
From bridle path, to reservoir, to rink…

                                    (from the poem “Beastie: Lord or the Lamp Post,” by Anonymous

(full poem here)
and now, a few drawrings from inside...