Epigraph to a phd dissertation...

From Mr Sludge, "The Medium"

by Robert Browning

And all this might be, may be, and with good help

Of a little lying shall be: so, Sludge lies!

Why, he’s at worst your poet who sings how Greeks

That never were, in Troy which never was,

Did this or the other impossible great thing!…

But why do I mount to poets? Take plain prose—

Dealers in common sense, set these at work,

What can they do without their helpful lies?

Each states the law and fact and face o’ the thing

Just as he’d have them, finds what he thinks fit,

Is blind to what missuits him, just records

What makes his case out, quite ignores the rest.

It’s a History of the World, the Lizard Age,

The Early Indians, the Old Country War,

Jerome Napoleon, whatsoever you please,

All as the author wants it. Such a scribe

You pay and praise for putting life in stones,

Fire into fog, making the past your world.

There’s plenty of ‘How did you contrive to grasp

The thread which led you through this labyrinth?

How build such solid fabric out of air?

How on so slight foundation found this tale?

Biography, narrative?’ or, in other words,

‘How many lies did it require to make

The portly truth you here present us with?’