I cannot fathom how you can so completely misconstrue what I am saying about MacGonagall, Amos. It baffles me.

MacGonagall did NOT believe his poetry was mediocre! He fully believed that he was the greatest poet of his century. He had absolute confidence in the supposed brilliance of his own work, and that was what drove him on, even when his working class peers jeered him, laughed, and threw fruits and vegetables at him in the public houses where he usually performed.

He felt that they were simply too ignorant of great art to appreciate what he had to offer! "pearls before swine", he must have thought. The rich people were more subtle. They would invite him for humorous purposes only to recite his poetry, and pretend to be fascinated by it. MacGonagall drank it up, feeling that the well-to-do WERE capable of recognizing his greatness. He sent numerous volumes of his work to Queen Victoria, expecting to soon be summoned to her side and receive a knighthood. He received no response from her. Undaunted, he walked all the way from Edinborough to her country manor and presented himself to the guards at the gate. I believe he expected to become "The Queen's Poet" and probably live amongst the royals on a regular basis. The guards turned him away.

He walked back to Edinborough, still fully believing that only ignorant underlyings stood in his way, and that one day his genius would be the toast of the Empire.

You see, Amos, you completely misunderstood my meaning. MacGonagall thought his work was brilliant! The rich who invited him thought it was hilariously bad, absolutely worthless tripe...and THAT's why they invited him...to amuse their dinner guests...but they didn't tell HIM what they were really thinking. So he enjoyed the occasion...and so did they. That's a win-win situation, even if it is a little sad.

MacGonagall lived and died believing that he was the greatest poet of his time. One can only admire his unshakable faith in the face of adverse fortune and an almost complete lack of poetic ability.

Here's a brief and striking bit of MacGonagall verse:

"On the hill stands a coo    (cow)
But it's not there...it's awa' noo"    (now)

Positively zenlike! The man may have been a Master. ;-D

Got it now?