Time for a more upbeat poem this week, and I’ve chosen “Macavity: the Mystery Cat” by T.S. Eliot because it’s always amused me.
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
T.S. Eliot (1888—1965)
(I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!
Poem 243. Macavity: the Mystery Cat
Macavity’s a Mystery Cat: he’s called the Hidden Paw—
For he’s the master criminal who can defy the Law.
He’s the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad’s despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime—Macavity’s not there!
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity,
He’s broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime—Macavity’s not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air—
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity’s not there!
Macavity’s a ginger cat, he’s very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly domed;
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he’s half asleep, he’s always wide awake.
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity, For he’s a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity. You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square— But when a crime’s discovered, then Macavity’s not there!
He’s outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard’s.
And when the larder’s looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke’s been stifled,
Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair—
Ay, there’s the wonder of the thing! Macavity’s not there!
And when the Foreign Office find a Treaty’s gone astray,
Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair—
But it’s useless to investigate—Macavity’s not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
‘It must have been Macavity!’—but he’s a mile away.
You’ll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs;
Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare:
At whatever time the deed took place—MACAVITY WASN’T THERE!
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!
This is one of the poems in Eliot’s “Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats” (Old Possum being Ezra Pound’s nickname for Eliot) which was the basis for Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical “Cats”.
Eliot based Macavity on the character of Moriarty in the Sherlock Holmes stories: Eliot was a big fan of the stories and there is a clear resemblance between the two criminal masterminds. They are both described as “tall and thin” and with a characteristic weaving motion of the head from side to side.
The poem lists the usual casual vandalisms that cat owners experience (“the larder’s looted”, “the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair”) with much less innocent activities: the stifling of Pekingese dogs, purloining of treaties and theft of naval blueprints (these last two also a nod to Sherlock Holmes) and suggesting that the publicly visible members of the operation (Mungojerrie and Griddlebone being named and shamed) are just cats paws for the mind behind the whole criminal enterprise: the Napoleon of Crime!
I love this poem because it’s funny and it captures the sly and underhand nature of (perhaps some, perhaps all) cats.
As an afterword, I was out for my walk this morning when a friend’s car stopped and she asked me to keep an eye out for her family’s cat who, like Macavity, isn’t there and perhaps has similar powers of levitation, having disappeared from their garden the previous evening. I hope that Pickles repents his truancy and returns to Rose and Ghaleb and the family soon.