I’ve always loved Stephen Fry. Nothing against Hugh Laurie, of course, but given the choice between the two, I’m afraid I’ve always favored Fry. Perhaps because he’s always been a bit drier, a bit smoother, a bit more, well, quintessentially British in my eyes than his former partner-in-comedy. And this opinion, I promise you, dates back to long before I even knew Laurie was capable of doing such a good imitation of an American accent.
But this is new. Stephen Fry has just elevated himself not only onto my blogroll but onto my own personal list of People Who Get It:
Words are free and all words, light and frothy, firm and sculpted as they may be, bear the history of their passage from lip to lip over thousands of years. How they feel to us now tells us whole stories of our ancestors.
And that’s just two sentences. Go, please, and read the rest. Yes, it is a rather long piece, but, Gods, is it beautiful. And true. And I’m still arguing with myself as to which of those adjectives is the more important.