Competition

In Competition No. 2708 you were invited to submit an obituary of either God or Homo sapiens. There is space only to congratulate the winners, printed below, who get £25 each, and to share this delightful and pertinent limerick by Gerard Benson: There was nothing, then dinosaurs, then There were mammals and finally men, Who ruled for a while In belligerent style, And then there was nothing again Brian Murdoch scoops the bonus fiver. The death has occurred in a Bournemouth nursing home of God, after a protracted battle with rationalism. Although early announcements of his death by Nietzsche proved unfounded, he never really recovered from serious Darwinism.

‘To ______, or not to ______, that is the question...’ In Competition No. 2707 you were invited to fill in the blanks and continue for up to a further 15 lines. The challenge elicited a topical response from many competitors — ‘to hack or not to hack...’ agonised George Simmers — and dilemmas of the digital age loomed large too: ‘To tweet or not to tweet... Can fourteen times ten characters ever tell a tale...’ (Jenny Lowe). Tim Raikes, Carolyn Thomas-Coxhead and Elizabeth Bullen were unlucky losers. The winners, printed below, get £25 each. The extra fiver is D.A. Prince’s. To drink or not to drink: that is the question.

Four letter word In Competition No. 2706 you were invited to submit an entertaining and plausible piece of prose using words of only four letters. ‘This must hold some sick joke!’ wailed Shirley Curran. ‘Lucy, show more pity next time,’ pleaded Barry Baldwin. But you are clearly a masochistic lot; despite the howls of protest and pleas for future clemency, the challenge generated a big postbag. I allowed contractions, within reason, but extra points were awarded to those who managed to avoid them as much as possible. The winners get £25 each. The bonus fiver is Alan Millard’s. ‘Poor Jack,’ Jill says, ‘sore head, huge lump, deep scar!’ ‘Poor Jill,’ says Jack, ‘deep scar, huge lump, sore head!

Lucy Vickery presents this week's Competition In Competition No. 2705 you were invited to submit an updated version of Betjeman’s ‘How to Get on in Society’. Sir John’s lampooning of suburban pretenders whose attempts to transcend their class served only to root them more firmly in it was his contribution to the U/Non-U debate that raged in the 1950s, sparked by Alan Ross and fuelled by Nancy Mitford. Their 21-century heirs and their aspirations were, on the whole, mercilessly and magnificently mocked. The winners scoop £25 each. Martin Parker bags the bonus fiver. Top up my spray tan, Darren, then phone up Hello! and OK and gold-plate the taps in the toilet. The Beckhams are coming to stay! I’ve just origamied the Andrex.

Lucy Vickery presents this week's Competition In Competition No. 2704 you were invited to submit extracts from a less than happy literary collaboration between male and female contemporaries where the joints clearly show. D.A. Prince (Orwell/Wodehouse) and Bill Greenwell (D.H. Lawrence/Pam Ayres) impressed but strayed from the brief. The winners, in a strong field, are printed below  and earn £25 each. Adrian Fry nabs £30. Full dim of day, a barn, dimmer yet. Within, figures idle. ‘’S not my fault it’s such a bloomin’ miserable day,’ William told his Outlaws. In the course of that interminable morning, they’d played at being cowboys, soldiers, gladiators and spies. Played at being, found it wanting, yet somehow still were.

In Competition No. 2703 you were invited to submit a hymn entitled ‘All Things Dull and Ugly’. Long lines mean space is tight so I’ll keep it short. George Simmers nabs the bonus fiver; £25 each to his fellow winners. All things dull and ugly, all creatures gross and     squat, All things vile or tedious, the Lord God made the     lot. He made the sly hyena, the hookworm and the slug, Your moaning Auntie Margaret and pervy Uncle     Doug. He made that dreary Welshman who so often reads     the news, And he made us, the ragtag lot who worship at     St Hugh’s.

Lucy Vickery presents this week's Competition In Competition No. 2702 you were to invited to submit an imaginary example of an embarrassingly overblown author’s dedication or an extract from an equally nauseating acknowledgments page. It seems that these days writing is a far from lonely pursuit and gratitude is routinely heaped by authors on battalions of helpers. But inspiration for the comp came from an era when emotional restraint was the norm in the shape of J.S. Mill’s fulsome dedication to his wife, which opens On Liberty: ...

In Competition No. 2701 you were invited to take the opening line of ‘Adlestrop’, substitute a location of your choice, and continue for up to a further 15 lines. The result of a brief, unscheduled stop at a Cotswold station just before the first world war, ‘Adlestrop’ has spawned many imitators. Jimmie Pearse’s fine parody, ‘Willesden Gree’, prompted me to set the comp — ‘We sat in silence, face to face/ (For that is what the British do),/ While over all the air, apace,/ Stole twilight scents of North-West Two.’) — and for especially devoted fans there is an entire anthology, Adlestrop Revisited edited by Anne Harvey, ‘inspired by Edward Thomas’s poem’.

Lucy Vickery presents this week's Competition In Competition No. 2700 you were invited to submit an example of pretentious wine-writing. Peter Mayle’s account in the Observer of his first formal wine tasting, in London’s St James’s, gives a flavour of what I was looking for: ‘The first wine, so he [the wine merchant] informed us, was vigorous and well-constructed, even a little bosomy. The second was an iron fist in a velvet glove. The third was earthy, but generous. The fourth was a little young to be up so late.’ As the evening wears on, the comparisons become increasingly ludicrous: ‘oak, truffles, hyacinths, hay, wet leather, wet dogs, weasels, a hare’s belly, faded tulips, old carpet, vintage socks...

Lucy Vickery presents this week's Competition In Competition No. 2699 you were invited to submit an ‘Ode to an Expiring Frog’ or to any other creature that is not long for this world. Inspiration here comes of course from the magnificent Mrs Leo Hunter, embodiment of provincial literary pretension and authoress of this poignant piece: Can I view thee panting, lying On thy stomach, without sighing; Can I unmoved see thee dying On a log Expiring frog! Adrian Fry’s McGonagall pastiche entertained, as did Ray Kelley, J. Garth Taylor, Shirley Curran and Martin Parker. All in all, it was  an impressive entry. ‘Finely expressed,’ as Mr Pickwick might say. The winners, printed below, get £25 each, except Bill Greenwell, who nabs £30.

Lucy Vickery presents this week's Competition In Competition No. 2698 you were invited to submit a short story that begins, ‘Of course he knew — no man better — that he hadn’t a ghost of a chance, he hadn’t an earthly.’ and ends ‘And Reginald came slowly across the lawn.’ The given words are the first and last sentences of ‘Mr and Mrs Dove’ by Katherine Mansfield, superlative writer of short fiction and object of Virginia Woolf’s envy: ‘I was jealous of her writing — the only writing I have ever been jealous of.’ Chris O’Carroll revisits Mansfield’s story and conjures up a parallel universe in which a semi-emancipated Reggie dreams of putting the symbolic doves to death.

Lucy Vickery presents this week's Competition In Competition No. 2696 you were invited to submit a dialogue in verse between two body parts, composed on the occasion of a hangover. Kingsley Amis described the opening of Kafka’s Metamorphosis as the best literary representation of a hangover, though many might argue that the crown belongs to Amis himself for his hilarious account of Jim Dixon’s self-inflicted wretchedness. My favourite is Ogden Nash’s opening to ‘They Won’t Believe, on New Year’s Eve, That New Year’s Day Will Come What May’: ‘How do I feel today? I feel as unfit as an unfiddle,/ And it is the result of a certain turbulence in the mind and an uncertain burbulence in the middle.

Lucy Vickery presents this week's Competition In Competition No. 2695 you were invited to submit the last will and testament of a fictional character. It is always striking when it comes to a challenge of this sort how like-minded the comping community is in its choice of fictional characters. There is a pretty wide range out there, but Toad, Miss Havisham, James Bond, Bertie Wooster and Falstaff popped up again and again in the entry. Barry Baldwin’s version of 007’s parting shot deserves an honourable mention, as does Shirley Curran’s Eeyore: ‘To the coalition government I leave my realistic outlook; things can only get worse.’ The winners, printed below, get £20 each except W.J. Webster, who gets £25. ...

Lucy Vickery presents this week's Competition In Competition No. 2694 you were invited to provide the female equivalent to Shakespeare’s Seven Ages of Man. Thanks to Phyllis Reinhard who submitted a pithy, witty entry that triumphed, she confesses, in a similar competition run by Another Magazine a decade or so ago. This disqualifies it from a place in this week’s winning line-up but not from being reprinted below for our pleasure: Pampers, pull-ups, PMS, Playtex pads, the Pill, Provera as your HRT, Then Pampers ...life’s a thrill. The overall standard was high, and other competitors who impressed and amused were Noel Petty, David Duncan Jones, Jayne Osborn, Virginia Price Evans and Janet Kenny. The winners, printed below, get £25 each.

In Competition No. 2693 you were invited to supply a hitherto unpublished extract by Lewis Carroll relating the further adventures of Alice. The location was left up to you. Parliament was the most popular choice of venue, which was no surprise. Westminster feels like a natural successor to Wonderland, with its circular arguments, twisted logic and cast of bickering contrarians. Unlucky losers this week were Frank McDonald, John O’Byrne and Max Ross. In the money, to the tune of £30 apiece, are the winners, printed below. Brian Murdoch bags the bonus fiver. Alice’s chair expanded, then she was in a room full of people, all screaming. Alice shouted, ‘Order! order!’ imperiously, and they went quiet. She pointed at the front row and said, ‘First Boy!

Lucy Vickery presents this week's competition In Competition No. 2692 you were invited to supply a poem suitable for inclusion in Now We Are Eighty-Six. A strong entry fell into two camps: those infused with the gung-ho spirit of Jenny Joseph’s ageing purple-clad heroine (‘When I am an old woman I shall wear purple/ With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me...) And those that have more in common with the drool, incontinence and baffled absence of Philip Larkin’s ‘The Old Fools’. There are no prizes for looking on the bright side, I’m afraid: it’s the gloom-mongers who dominate the winning line-up below and nab £25 apiece. Noel Petty gets £30.

Lucy Vickery presents this week's competition In Competition No. 2691 you were invited to submit toe-curlingly bad analogies. Gratitude and respect to my opposite number over at the Washington Post’s Style Invitational contest from whom I plundered this idea. So impressed was I by the sublimely funny winning entries this challenge generates across the pond that I felt compelled to throw down the gauntlet to Spectator competitors. You did me proud: I squirmed and chuckled my way through an entry of inspired awfulness. The first five winners, printed below, pocket £18 each; the rest get £10.

Lucy Vickery presents this week's competition In Competition No. 2690 you were invited to invent names to fit jobs. This assignment was suggested to me by a regular and long-standing competitor-who-wishes-to-remain-nameless, and was also a favourite of the brilliant Mary Ann Madden, who for many years presided over New York magazine’s literary competition. Several of you fondly remembered Kenneth Tynan’s superlative ‘Charles Louis D’Ince’, bandleader, while Nigel Harding drew my attention to a Radio 4 report some years ago about an American financial planner called Rosie Scenario. Cyberspace is groaning with websites giving lists of comedy names of this ilk so I was looking for unprecedented levels of wit and ingenuity.

Lucy Vickery presents this week's Competition In Competition No. 2690 you were invited to invited to submit quatrains reflecting on current events in the Middle East in the style of Edward FitzGerald/Omar Khayyam. FitzGerald is, of course, master of the beautifully turned aphoristic phrase. And, as Cedric Watts points out in his introduction to the Wordsworth Classics edition of the Rubaiyat, though he makes it looks effortless the rhyme scheme he uses in his translation — mostly AABA, though occasionally AAAA— is difficult to maintain; especially, as he does so fluently, for stanza after stanza. So the bar was set high. Frank McDonald triumphs this week and bags the bonus fiver. His fellow winners get £25 each. Awake!