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Parodies of Edgar Alan Poe

by Don L. F. Nilsen, and

Alleen Pace Nilsen

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PARODIES OF EDGAR ALAN POE’S “BELLS”

Hear the sledges with the bells—Silver bells!What a world of merriment their melody

foretells!How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,In the Icy air of night!While the stars that oversprinkleAll the heavens, seem to twinkleWith a crystalline delight;

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Keeping time, time, time,

In a sort of Runic rhyme,

To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells

From the bells, bells, bells, bells,

Bells, bells, bells—

From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

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II: Hear the mellow wedding bellsGolden bells!

III: Hear the loud alarum bellsBrazen bells?

IV: Hear the tolling of the bells—Iron bells!

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• Thus, the poem takes us from the merry silver bells to the harmonious wedding bells to the clamorous alarum bells and finally to the solemn death nell of the iron bells.

• Until we come to the final line in the poem:

To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

• (Hart 70, 661-663)

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DEMER CAPE’S PARODY OF “BELLS”

See the doctors with their pills—

Silver-coated pills.

What a world of misery their calomel instills.

How they twingle, twingle, twingle in the icy-golden night.

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You have taken two that mingle.

And you wish you’d had a single;

While your cheeks are ashy white…

Oh, the pills, pills, pills—

Pills, pills, ,pills, pills.

So ends my rhyming and my chiming on the pills.

• (Falk 112)

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BARRY PAIN’S PARODY OF “BELLS”

Here’s a mellow cup of tea, golden tea!

What a world of rapturous thought its fragrance brings to me!

Oh, from out the silver cells

How it wells!

How it smells!

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Keeping tune, tune, tune

To the tintinnabulation of the spoon

And the kettle on the fire

Boils its spout off with desire,

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But he always came home to tea, tea, tea

tea, tea, tea, tea.

(Wells 362, MacDonald 323, Falk 111)

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ANONYMOUS’ PARODY OF “BELLS”

Hear the fluter with his flute,

Silver flute!

Oh, what a world of wailing is awakened by its toot!

How it demi-semi quavers

On the maddened air of night!

And defieth all endeavors

To escape the sound or sight

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Of the flute, flute, flute,

With its tootle, tootle, toot…

Of the flute, flewt, fluit, floot, Phlute, Phlewt, Phlewght,

And the tootle, tootle, tooting of its toot.

(Wells 140-141, MacDonald 103)

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C. F. LUMIS’ PARODY OF “ANNABEL LEE”

It was many and many a year ago,On an island near the sea,That a maiden lived whom you mightn’t

knowBy the name of Cannibelee;And this maiden, she lived with no other

thoughtThan a passionate fondness for me.

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• The poem continues by developing the nature of this fondness by Cannibelee, and it ends,

With a love that could take me roast or friedOr raw, as the case might be.

Hood names his parody poem, “A Poe-’em of Passion”

• (Falk 121)

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THOMAS HOOD JR.’S PARODY OF “ANNABEL LEE”

It was many and many a year agoIn a District called E.C.,That a Monster dwelt whom I came to knowBy the name of Cannibel Flea,And the brute was possessed with no other

thoughtThan to live—and to live on me!

(Falk 121)

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BARBARA ANGELL’S “ULABEL LUME”

I was a child and she was a childAnd childishly childlike we’d romp.But we loved with a lovlier love than loveIn this old barge on the swamp.With a love that made the winged seraphs in

heavenFoam at the mouth and stomp.

(Falk 121)

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C. L. EDSON’S “RAVEN’S OF PIUTE POET POE”

Once upon a midnight dreary, eerie, scary,

I was wary, I was weary, full of worry,

Thinking of my lost Lenore.

Of my cheery, airy, faery, fiery Dearie—

(Nothing more).

(Falk 114)

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HOLLY CHIVERS’ “HUMPTY-DUMPTY: A LA POE”

As an egg, when broken, neverCan be mended but must everBe the same crushed egg forever—So shall this dark heart of mineWhich, though broken, is still breaking,And shall nevermore cease achingFor the sleep which has no waking—For the sleep which now is thine.

(Falk 114)

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• Chivers’ parody of Poe’s “The Raven” is very dark. He wrote it when Poe died, and the death in the poem refers both to the death of Poe, and the death of his lover, whose name was Isadore.

• For Chivers felt that Poe had stolen his own poem, entitled, “Isadore.”

• Chivers’ original poem read as follows:

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While the world lay round me sleeping

I alone for Isadore

Patient Vigils lonely keeping,

Someone said to me while weeping:

“Why this grief forever more?”

And I answered: “I am weeping

for my blessed Isadore.

(Falk 113)

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NOW BACK TO CHIVERS’ PARODY

As an egg, when broken, neverCan be mended but must everBe the same crushed egg forever—So shall this dark heart of mineWhich, though broken, is still breaking,And shall nevermore cease achingFor the sleep which has no waking—For the sleep which now is thine.

(Falk 114)

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• Did Poe steal Chivers’ poem?

• You be the judge.

Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_Allan_Poe

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