The Art of Samuel Fudge

They’d grown together as boys, they say,

They’d shared each spat and spill,

But one lived down in a terrace house

The other, up on the hill,

Their toys were never the bat and ball

That others take to the heart,

They shared their crayons and water paints,

The love of their lives was art.

 

One had a gift for portraiture

The other a gift for scenes,

Samuel Fudge could paint a forest

You’d see in your darkest dreams.

Nathaniel Booth could capture a head

Where you saw each single hair,

They grew together in harmony

‘Til the night of the Artists Fair.

 

They each submitted a cherished work

In the sections, ‘Faces’ and ‘Scenes’,

The Judge was Margaret Hartley-Burke

Of the Hartley-Burkes of Rheims,

She gushed all over Nathaniel’s head

Of a ‘Girl with Bonnet and Shawl’,

While Fudge’s ‘Valley of Constant Dread’

Just glowered down from the wall.

 

The Scenic ‘First’ was a pastoral

By an Earl at Mountain Ash,

The Faces ‘First’ was a close-run thing

But Nathaniel won the cash,

So Fudge had muttered ‘Noblesse-oblige’,

As he took his painting home,

Back to the mean old terrace house

But he walked the streets alone.

 

Nathaniel went from strength to strength

It was rarely he was topped,

While Fudge hung works in the same old shows

But his paintings always flopped,

He muttered, ‘I have to win just one

Or my name’s not Samuel Fudge!’

But each despair brought the darkness there,

It was said that he bore a grudge.

 

Nathaniel won the right to hang

In the Royal Academy,

He wowed them all with an over all

Of Horatio Willoughby,

The soldier sat erect on his horse

And glared from his gilded frame,

While down below was a plaque that showed

‘Nathaniel Booth, R.A.’

 

But all was grim in the terrace house,

For Samuel ceased to show,

He locked himself in the attic room

Where his discontent would grow,

He worked his will on a painting there

So dark that it almost bled,

And muttered, ‘Nathaniel Booth, R.A. -

You’ll soon be better off dead!’

 

While up in the mansion on the hill

The artist sat in the gloom,

The shades were drawn from the early morn

To keep the light from the room,

‘I keep on getting these migraines, they

Sit right behind my eyes,

I can’t even finish my painting…’

It was then that he realised!

 

One night, he travelled the meaner streets

And he looked for Samuel Fudge,

He beat on the door of the terrace house

But Samuel wouldn’t budge,

He’d only open the window to

Look down on his friend that way,

‘I know what you’re up to, Samuel,’

Said Nathaniel Booth, R.A.

 

‘Well, two can play at that same old game,

So stop, or it’s all-out war!’

‘You’ve never given a helping hand,

Or even a thought, before!’

So Samuel slammed the window then

Went back to the task in hand,

Spreading his darkness through the glen

Of a scene in a nightmare land.

 

Nathaniel Booth went back to his art

And hurriedly drew a head,

The eyes were glaring, the nostrils flared

Remembering what was said.

A week’s gone by and the rumours fly

As the police investigate,

For both the houses are empty now

Though the air is filled with hate.

 

For in the attic they found a scene

With the paint not even dry,

A forest, set in a shaded glen

With louring clouds in the sky,

A figure, holding a fiery brand

To keep the wolves at bay,

While snakes are slithering, tree to tree

At Nathaniel Booth, R.A.

 

And staring out from the mantelpiece

In the mansion on the hill,

A face contorted with madness, its

Ambitions unfulfilled,

The hair bedraggled and tangled

Tied the portrait to the wall,

It’s now in the National Gallery,

Beside ‘The Scene of the Fall.’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Tate Morgan]

i couldnt help think of Dorian Greay And thew painting that aged while he diod not. Somehow the fates always make us pay dont they? Even good deeds never go unpunished.The tyale was great the story was something of a hitchcock nightmare true enough for the silver screen

[Marie]

AA wonderful story of two talented artists; one pleased the public; they other didn't even please himself. And both turned mad, as artists sometimes do.
I don't quite understand how
"Nathaniel" became "Nicholas", unless they both have the same meaning.

[Irfan Bashir Shah]

Nicely penned down as usual....
The last part was the best though
*Tied the portrait to the wall,
It’s now in the National Gallery,
Beside ‘The Scene of the Fall.*
It's wonderful how you always find a way to amuse your readers....
Thank you for sharing!

[Krista Gallant]

This piece is superb DLP! The poem’s structure provides fluency and ease when read. The imagery throughout displays the visual images of a story, almost as if it was one of the artists’ paintings. Your gentle tone expressing their friendship is magnificent. I could truly see them in my mind’s eye. It is now in my library as one of my favorites. Congrats and thanks for sharing :D

[Holly Mason]

this is a great piece
who would of known samuel fudge was his own!
thank you for sharing so much

[David Scott]

We take talent and beauty and twist it into our own idea of art. It is only when the rawness of who we are, good or evil, is presented that true art is created...
A fine poem and a lesson not to "fudge" your work...

[Emerald Seas]

Jealousy breeds madness. What a well crafted tale of twisted friendship, competitiveness, and jealousy. A thoroughly enjoyable read on a very dark subject.