The Spectator literary competition has been going strong for decades. Every week readers are invited to show off, in verse or prose, their wit, verbal dexterity and satirical genius. We have had parodies and palinodes; lipograms, limericks and double dactyls; aphorisms and acrostics. The results are brilliant, original and often hilarious.
Certain names do crop up over and again in the winning line-up (Basil Ransome-Davies is the one everyone remembers). But these are the veterans. They have had decades of practice. Newcomers do triumph from time to time, and we would like there to be more of them. So we have decided that it is time to throw down the gauntlet to CoffeeHousers.
This is your chance to pit your wit and skill against the regulars. As well as the kudos of appearing in such stellar company, there are financial rewards to be had: those entries printed earn their authors £25 and a bonus fiver is awarded to the overall winner. (Or a bottle of Pol Roger, if you prefer).
The challenge this week is to submit a letter liberally sprinkled with evidence of an imperfect grasp of foreign languages (up to 150 words). We ran this competition some time ago. Here is a snippet from one of the winning entries by Adrian Fry:
Dear Molly, cara diva,
We were enchante de vous voir yet again on the bel etage of the Village Hall last Saturday. Bravo bravissima and encore! You were altogether prima in the donna role and everything about The Sound of Music was truly comme il faut. By the end of the soirée Matilda and [felt we had been on a veritable tour de force. The costumes and the mise en scene and, primus inter pares, your own fine performance were so wonderfully virtuoso one could almost smell the Bierwurst and the Eidelweiss. What next, we ask ourselves, may the village expect from your anus mirabilis?
The closing date is midday on 31 July and entries should be marked Competition 2809 and emailed to lucy@spectator.co.uk
Bonne chance!
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