Hell's bells! The joy of Morris Dancing
"I am standing in a Scout hut on a rainy Wednesday night in a leafy suburb of York, preparing to be initiated in to the ways of morris. Few would imagine that danger is at hand. Morris dancing - with its tinkling bells, clink of pewter tankards and brightly-clad participants - evokes the timeless, gentle charm of an English village. It may be atavistic and some may even find it a little unsettling. But ultimately it is plainly harmless and above all, safe.
"Yet I am now learning that what I believed to be a risk-free if rather unfashionable activity is in fact fraught with peril - a contact sport in the finest traditions of bone-crunching Sumo and tooth-spitting Aussie Rules. I had assumed that the greatest menace - apart from the occasional derisory comment - might be a nasty case of hanky burn brought on by a too-vigorously brandished snot rag; or perhaps a poke in the eye with a flailing pig's bladder - even a mild bout of tinnitus courtesy of those chimes. But that was before I witnessed the spectacle of the Skirmish."
Pour citer cette ressource :
"Hell's bells! The joy of Morris Dancing", La Clé des Langues [en ligne], Lyon, ENS de LYON/DGESCO (ISSN 2107-7029), septembre 2009. Consulté le 28/09/2023. URL: http://cle.ens-lyon.fr/anglais/archives/archives-revue-de-presse/hell-s-bells-the-joy-of-morris-dancing