Mr Mistoffelees

T.S. Eliot wrote that every cat must have three names:
'a name that the family use daily'
'a name that's particular, a name that's peculiar, and more dignified'
'The name that no human research can discover - but the cat himself knows and will never confess.'
('The Naming of Cats')


Eliot was a man who knew his cats, he knew their foibles, their habits, and their peculiarities. He understood the connection we have with our cats, and captured it perfectly in Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. I grew up listening to a crackly old worn out tape of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Cats every night as I went to sleep, and used to know almost every word to every song. Now lines and phrases are all that drift through my mind, but when I pick up a copy of Eliot's poems, it's like coming back to old friends, and the words and lines come together again in my imagination.

I've never seen Cats as a musical, except perhaps once on tv, and these words are all I know. But as I read, they play out as clear as freshly cleaned window in my mind. And we've found Pippin's second name.

To be honest, we're not sure if it's Mr Mistoffelees or McCavity, although the latter certain is the spitting image of our playful munchkin - 'a ginger cat, he's very tall and thin.'. But it's Mr Mistoffelees is who comes to mind whenever our Pippin does his amazing appearing trick, popping up beside your chair, when you could have sworn he was playing in another room.




Mr Mistoffelees

You ought to know Mr. Mistoffelees!
The Original Conjuring Cat -
(There can be no doubt about that).
Please listen to me and don't scoff. All his
Inventions are off his own bat.
There's no such Cat in the metropolis;
He holds all the patent monopolies
For performing surprising illusions
And creating eccentric confusions.
At prestidigitation
And at legerdemain
He'll defy examination
And deceive you again.
The greatest magicians have something to learn
From Mr Mistoffelees' Conjuring Turn.
Presto!
Away we go!
And we all say: OH!
Well I never!
Was there ever
A Cat so clever
As Magical Mr. Mistoffelees!

He is quiet and small, he is black,
From his ears to the tip of his tail;
He can creep through the tiniest crack
He can walk on the narrowest rail.
He can pick any card from a pack,
He is equally cunning with dice;
He is always deceiving you into believing
That he's only hunting for mice.
He can play any trick with a cork
Or a spoon and a bit of fish-paste;
If you look for a knife or a fork
And you think it is merely misplaced -
You have seen it one moment, and then it is gawn!
But you'll find it next week lying out on the lawn.
And we all say: OH!
Well I never!
Was there ever
A Cat so clever
As Magical Mr. Mistoffelees!

His manner is vague and aloof,
You would think there was nobody shyer -
But his voice has been heard on the roof
When he was curled up by the fire.
And he's sometimes been heard by the fire
WHen he was about on the roof -
(At least we all heard somebody who purred)
Which is incontestable proof
Of his singular magical powers:
And I have known the family to call
Him in from the garden for hours,
While he was asleep in the hall.
And not long ago this phenomenal Cat
Produced seven kittens right out of a hat!
And we all said: OH!
Well I never!
Was there ever
A Cat so clever
As Magical Mr. Mistoffelees!

Copyright T.S. Eliot