Tuesday, September 01, 2009


There was a phase during my adolescence when I was on a steady diet of Regency novels. Long before I had even heard the term "chick-lit", I devoured novels by the Queen of 19th century chick-lit -- Georgette Heyer. Set in London or its surroundings, Heyer's heroines are always stylish, witty, adventurous and defiant of 19th century notions of female propriety. One of the ultimate acts of defiance that a stylish 19th century female could conceive of was to drive a perch Phaeton. Considered highly unsuitable for women, it was considered an act of ultimate skill to be able to drive one without overturning it. Not having Google at my disposal then, it was left to my imagination to conjure up what a phaeton might look like and how daring someone might look driving it! Over the course of years, my imagination had built this up to Herculean proportions and I started to believe that someone driving a Phaeton had attained janma sabalyam.

I finally found a real phaeton last week at the Kentucky Horse Park. I was a teeny tiny bit disappointed because it looked so timid and normal -- nothing compared to my wild conjectures. I suppose this is what you get when you hit stark reality as opposed to the luxury of imagination :-)

1 comment:

PH said...

Like your new template!!!