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The Writer's Almanac from Thursday, January 25, 2001
"Green Grow the Rashes," by Robert Burns.
On this day in 1890, the United Mine Workers of America, a labor union of coal miners and coal-mine construction workers, was formed in Columbus, Ohio. Their demands included wages paid in U.S. currency instead of company scrip, the end of child labor, and "a plentiful supply of suitable timber" to stabilize the roofs of mines.
It's the birthday of Virginia Woolf, born Adeline Virginia Stephens in London (1882), best-known for her novels To the Lighthouse (1927), and Mrs. Dalloway (1925) and for her essay, A Room of One's Own (1929).Her home at 46 Gordon Square, in the Bloomsbury section of London, became the regular meeting place of the writers and intellectuals that became known as the Bloomsbury Group. In 1941, she drowned herself in the River Ouse, leaving behind a note for her husband, Leonard:
"I have a feeling I shall go mad.I cannot go on longer in these terrible times.I hear voices and cannot concentrate on my work.I have fought against it, but cannot fight any longer.I owe all my happiness to you but cannot go on and spoil your life."
It's the birthday of writer and dramatist W. Somerset Maugham, born at the British Embassy in Paris (1874), where his father worked as an attorney. His best known novel is a thinly disguised autobiography, Of Human Bondage (1915). Despite his worldly success and great popularity, Maugham was conscious that he was not a great writer, and wrote in his autobiography that he "stood in the very first row of the second-raters."
It's the birthday of poet Robert Burns, born in Alloway, Scotland (1759). He was the son of a poor farmer, the oldest of seven children; when his father died, he inherited the farm, but soon lost it. In his 37 years, Burns managed a fierce amount of both work and carousing. He's best known for the hundreds of songs he wrote or adapted—though he was tone deaf, and couldn't sing very well himself.
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Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly!
Never met—or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Tonight is celebrated as Burns Night in Scotland, celebrating the birthday of Robert Burns (1759). "Burns suppers" are held across the Scotland; participants will rise to read Burns' poetry and to toast the queen, the laddies, and the lassies.The main dish is haggis, the traditional Scottish dish, and at some point during the evening, a single bagpiper will play "Pipin' in o' the Haggis" and someone will read Burns' poem, "Address to the Haggis," which ends:
"Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care
And dish them out their bill o fare
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies:
But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!"
Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.®
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