Unless you’ve been living under a rock, chances are you’ve heard of Alice in Wonderland; at the least your curiosity might have been piqued enough to read it after seeing The Matrix, or be mistaken in thinking that you don’t need to read the book if you saw Tim Burton’s film with Johnnie Depp. The sequel to Lewis Carroll’s most famous work (mentioned above), called “Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There“, written in 1871, contains the famous nonsensical poem called the Jabberwocky, which I present here:
“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, my 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.
Many of the nonsensical words are what Lewis Carroll (aka Charles Lutwidge Dodgson) coined 
as “portmanteau words” meaning the combination of both sound and meaning of two words into one; e.g. frumious being “fuming” and “furious”. Some of the words have since made it into the English language, such as galumph or chortle, while some were words he revived, such as gyre and beamish. And personally I think some of his words deserve wider use, such as brilling, slithy, snicker-snack and Bandersnatch! Click on the photo to the right to hear the poem read.
Now… “what is the Totemügerli,” I hear you ask? It is the Swiss-German version – not a translation, but an original story by Franz Hohler, a Swiss cabaret performer; Bernese German, to be more precise. Bern is the political capital of Switzerland, and historically has one of the richest, most colourful dialects of all the Swiss German dialects; I am fluent in the Zürich dialect, and can understand all the other Swiss-German dialects, including Walliserdïïtsch, which is the oldest of all Swiss dialects; and I can guarantee you that the Totemügerli story is 90% nonsense, and yet tells a clear tale! For those of you interested in the text, here it is:
Ds Totemügerli
von Franz Hohler
Gäuit, wemer da grad eso schön binanger sitze, hani däicht, chönntech
vilicht es bärndütsches Gschichtli erzelle. Es isch zwar es bsungers
uganteligs Gschichtli, wo aber no gar nid eso lang im Mittlere
Schattegibeleggtäli passiert isch:
Der Schöppelimunggi u der Houderebäseler si einischt schpät am Abe,
wo scho der Schibützu durs Gochlimoos pfoderet het, über s Batzmättere
Heigisch im Erpfetli zueglüffe u hei nang na gschtigelet u gschigöggelet,
das me z Gotts Bäri hätt chönne meine, si sige nanger scheich.
«Na ei so schlöözige Blotzbänggu am Fläre, u i verminggle der s Bätzi,
dass d Oschterpföteler ghörsch zawanggle!»
«Drby wärsch froh, hättsch en einzige nuesige Schiggeler uf em Lugipfupf!»
U so isch das hin u härgange wie nes Färegschäderli amene Milchgröözi,
da seit plötzlech Houderebäseler zu Schöppelimunggi:
«Schtill! Was ziberlet dert näbem Tobelöhli z grachtige n uuf u aab?»
Schöppelimunggi het gschläfzet wie ne Gitzeler u hets du o gseh. Es
Totemügerli! U nid numen eis, nei, zwöi, drü, vier, füüf, es ganzes
Schoossinjong voll si da desumegschläberlet u hei zäng pinggerlet u
globofzgerlet u gschanghangizigerlifisionööggelet, das es eim richtig agschnäggelet het.
Schöppelimunggi u Houderebäseler hei nang nume zuegmutzet u hei ganz
hingerbyggelig wöllen abschöberle. Aber chuum hei si der Awang ytröölet,
gröözet es Totemügerli:
«Heee, dir zweee!»
U denen isch i d Chnöde glöötet wie bschüttigs Chrüzimääl dure Chätschäbertrog.
Düpfelig u gnütelig si si blybe schtah wie zwöi gripseti Mischtschwibeli,
u scho isch das Totemügerli was tschigerlisch was
pfigerlisch binene zueche gsi. Äs het se zersch es Rüngli chyblig u
gschiferlig aagnöttelet u het se de möögglige gfraget:
«Chöit dir is hälfe, ds Blindeli der Schtotzgrotzen ueche z graagge?»
Wo der Schöppelimunggi das Wort «Blindeli» ghört het, het em fasch
wölle ds Härzgätterli zum Hosegschingg uspföderle,
aber der Houderebäseler het em zueggaschplet:
«Du weisch doch, das men imene Totemügerli nid darf nei säge!»
U du si si halt mitgschnarpflet.
«Sooo, dir zweee!» het ds Totemügerli gseit, wo si zum Blindeli cho si,
u die angere Totemügerli si ganz rüeiig daaggalzlet u hei numen ugschynig ychegschwärzelet.
Da hei die beide gwüsst, was es Scheieli Gschlychets ds Gloubige
choschtet u hei das Blindeli aagroupet, der eint am schörpfu, der anger a de Gängertalpli.
Uuuh, isch das e botterepfloorigi Schtrüpfete gsi!
Die zwee hei gschwouderet u ghetzpacheret, das si z näbis meh gwüsst hei,
wo se der Gürchu zwurglet.
Daa, z eis Dapf, wo si scho halber der Schtotzgrotzen
uecheghaschpaaperet si, faht sech das Blindeli afah ziirgge u bäärgglet mit
schychem Schtimmli:
«Ooh, wie buuchet mi der Glutz!»
Jetz hets aber im Schöppelimunggi böös im Schyssächerli gguugget.
Är het das Blindeli la glootsche u isch der Schtotzgrotz abdotzeret,
wie wenn em der Hurligwaagg mit em Flarzyse der Schtirps vermöcklet hätt.
«Häb dure, Münggu!» het em der Houderebäseler na naagräätschet;
u de het er nüt meh gwüsst.
Am angere Morge het ne ds Schtötzgrötzeler Eisi gfunge, chäfu u tunggig
wien en Öiu, u es isch meh weder e Monet gange,
bis er wider het chönne s Gräppli im Hotschmägeli bleike.
Totemügerli u Blindeli het er keis meh gseh sis Läbe lang, aber o der
Schöppelimunggi isch vo da a verschwunde gsi.
S git Lüt, wo säge, dass sider am Schtotzgrotzen es Totemügerli meh desumeschirggelet.
If you’d like to hear it read out by Franz Hohler himself, in a cabaret show recorded during the ’80s, just click on the image below.
The Corryvreckan, which is the strait between the isles of Jura and Scarba off the West Coast of Scotland, contains the world’s third largest whirlpool (following the Saltstraumen off of Norway, and the Moskstraumen, also off Norway), and is considered by many as the most dangerous scuba dive in the UK (there’s only a few minutes’ safe diving time there; when your bubbles start to go down, not up, you’ve overstayed your welcome). Planted underwater in the middle of the strait is a giant pinnacle of basalt (the same rock that created the Scottish Isle of Staffa, and the Giant’s Causeway in Ireland); its position means that when tides flow in or out, they end up being churned into a broiling mass of suck-ships-under sea.
Stephanie Huesler 