Remember that nursery rhyme? Solomon Grundy; born on Monday, christened on Tuesday, blah blah blah, died on Saturday, buried on Sunday? It’s difficult to tell Solomon’s true nationality, or religion, or anything about him for that matter from the short rhyme. Solomon is just some imaginary recipient of the world’s most glorious anti-climax. Can’t really say what was in the mind of the composer of that rhyme, or rather who was in his or her mind, or if at all he intended for the rhyme to be remotely relatable, but one thing is sure though- no one wants to be Solomon.
This is the story of the first and probably only person who desired, and lived, the life of Solomon Grundy.