REELY'S POETRY BLOG

The Baltimore Sun reports that the “Poe Toaster” who faithfully visited Poe’s grave every January 19th for 60 years failed to show up at midnight on January 19, 2010. He would arrive sometime between midnight and 5:30 a.m. and leave a bottle of cognac and three roses.

Jeff Jerome, the curator of the Edgar Allan Poe House in Baltimore, Maryland told the Baltimore Sun that there was nothing to make anyone think the toaster wasn’t coming this year. He said the man sometimes knelt at the tombstone or put his hands on it. Sometimes he would leave a note along with his other gifts.

As the ritual came to be known over the years, people would gather nearby to watch but would not disturb the Poe Toaster. A group of 30-50 people came this year but left disappointed. People speculated that the toaster was ill, or chose to stop coming after the bicentennial of Poe’s birthday last year (or perhaps the 60th year anniversary of his own visits).

Mr Jerome said he would continue to keep vigil each morning of January 19 until 2012. “After two years if he doesn’t show up, I think we can safely assume the tribute has ended,” he said.

Last night I came across a website selling the “Edgar Allan Poe Ultimate Audio Collection” that you can download immediately for $12.95. Savor 9 hours of inside the mind of Edgar Allan Poe, it says.

Sound like a good deal? Well, it’s not. All the files come from Librivox and are already online available to download for free. Why would anyone want to pay $12.95 to download something you can download for free? The only reason I can think of is they don’t know it’s freely available.

How do I know they are from Librivox? Well, I have seen these same files being sold on CDs on eBay before, only on eBay the seller acknowledges that Librivox is the source. Here’s the link to the entire free ’shurtagal’ Poe audio readings: http://librivox.org/edgar-allan-poe-poems-by-edgar-allan-poe/. Here’s the site where they are being sold. Compare the running times. What a coincidence!

I’ve actually had occasion to listen to shurtagal’s Annabel Lee when I was looking for particular version of the poem (The Griswold version), but it wasn’t what I needed in terms of the words. I had to use the reading by Mr. H. Jeong.

So, what is Librivox (for anyone who doesn’t already know)? It is an online digital library of free public domain audiobooks and poetry, read by volunteers and released into the public domain. As of July 2009, it boasts a catalog of 2,500 unabridged books and shorter works available to download – FREE.
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Isn’t it funny how a poet can be pretty popular in their own day and then a century or so later, they’re mostly known by their association with another poet who wasn’t much appreciated in his own lifetime? Such seems to be the situation with Frances Sargent Osgood — Poe himself gave her good reviews — and now she is known more for her friendship with him than her own work since his post-mortem popularity has certainly eclipsed hers. At the time, such a scandalous scandal brewed around their friendship, that Poe was even rumored to be her youngest baby’s daddy! Mrs. Osgood was a couple of years younger than Poe and she passed away not even a year after Poe.

I found a poem by Mrs. Osgood that was in a 4th grade reader in 1869. It’s called Labor and I can’t imagine 4th graders liking this poem, then or now, but here it is, the way it appears in that book:

LABOR

1. Labor is rest — from the sorrows that greet us;
Rest from all petty vexations that meet us,
Rest from the sin-promptings that ever entreat us,
Rest from world-sirens that lure us to ill.

Work — and pure slumbers shall wait on the pillow,
Work — thou shalt ride over Care’s coming billow;
Lie not down wearied ‘neath Woe’s weeping willow!
Work with a stout heart and resolute’ will!

2. Labor is health! Lo the husbandman reaping,
How through his veins goes the life-current leaping;
How his strong arm, in its stalwart pride sweeping,
Free as a sunbeam the swift sickle guides.
Labor is wealth — in the sea the pearl groweth,
Rich the queen’s robe from the frail cocoon floweth,
From the fine acorn the strong forest bloweth,
Temple and statue the marble block hides.
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Couldn’t get to Baltimore on January 19th to help celebrate the 200th anniversary of Edgar Allan Poe’s birth? Or Philly, to hear the ‘Poe Down” debate, where Boston, Baltimore and Philadelphia competed for the right to claim Poe as its own?

Visit www.nevermore.com to learn about all the events the City of Baltimore has planned throughout this year, which will culminate with the anniversary of Poe’s death on October 7th.

And to hold you over in the meantime, here’s a parody of The Raven by Dr. Seuss (Adrian, that is.)

How clearly I can still remember being able to recite Little Orphant Annie, by James Whitcomb Riley, when I was just a wee sprite of 5. My mom just thought that was the cat’s meow and whenever she had a friend over, she’d trot me out and have me say the first verse. She must have liked this poem, because I could recite other ones, like Robert Louis Stevenson’s, My Shadow, but it was always Orphant Annie (until I was older and she found out I knew the words to Dominique!).

Before he became the beloved “Children’s Poet,” James Whitcomb Riley perpetrated a hoax that cost him his job. He wrote a poem entitled Leonanie, in the style of Edgar Allan Poe’s poem, Ulalume. Riley believed that the poem mattered little if one already had an established reputation. He enlisted the help of his friend, John Henderson, the editor of the Kokomo Dispatch. Henderson fabricated a tale on how the poem came to be found and Leonainie was published on August 3, 1877, almost 28 years after Mr. Poe had left this vale of tears.

Upon exposure, a suitable period of disgrace ensued, then forgiveness, then acceptance. James Whitcomb Riley made a very respectable living from writing and public appearances. Remarkably, or perhaps typically, some people continued to believe that the poem had been written by Poe.

Here is another poem I like by James Whitcomb Riley:

FAITH

The sea was breaking at my feet,
And looking out across the tide,
Where placid waves and heaven meet,
I thought me of the Other Side.

For on the beach on which I stood
Were wastes of sands, and wash, and roar,
Low clouds, and gloom, and solitude,
And wrecks, and ruins — nothing more. ”

O, tell me if beyond the sea
A heavenly port there is !” I cried,
And back the echoes laughingly ”
There is ! there is !” replied.

More Resources:
Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley in 10 Volumes (Google Books)
Leonainie - Museum of Hoaxes
James Whitcomb Riley Recordings - 17 recordings by the poet – Indiana Marion County Public Library