CNN threw up this article yesterday: Real life plot twists of famous authors
They list nine different well-known authors, like Charles Dickins, Langston Hughes, etc. and then reveal something odd about their career beginnings, personal habits, or just some lesser-known fact about the person.
Thankfully, the authors didn’t get a huge rundown of “this person was an alcoholic, that person was a lunatic, this person was a drug addict.” Why are writers (among other artists) always tacked on with some addictive neurosis?
This tidbit about Thomas Hardy is intriguing–Apparently when Hardy died in 1928, his literary peers considered him too important to be buried in his hometown’s (Dorset) graveyard, but the people of Dorset demanded he be interned there. The compromise involved cremating everything but Hardy’s heart. His ashes were buried at Westminster Abbey while his heart was buried in a small casket in a Dorset churchyard. But wait. There’s more. There is a long-standing rumor that a cat kept by Hardy’s housekeeper actually ate the author’s heart, and that they buried a pig’s heart in its place.
Wow. Who knew being a famous author could bring such cool perks?
I see that smile.
Interesting that somebody would leave the heart out for a cat to gain access to it. Interesting information.
Cats are everywhere. Not even are internal organs are safe from them.
Or maybe he never really had a human heart, and the passionate blood of a pig flowed there instead, allowing him to write more vividly than a regular person. Sorry, imagination going crazy.
~Always~
Pigs have passionate blood? I never realized. I wonder if we’ll ever get to the point where organ transplants can be from other species…I’m sure there’s already some science fiction story out there with that imagined up.
They could have just burried the cat in Dorset.
ha ha! I am so using that for my victorian authors project! Sweet! 🙂