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Illustrations: Edmund Dulac (1912) (You can hear my readings of a selection of Poe’s tales at this link.)
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For William Shakespeare’s Birthday . . . (You can listen to more of my Carl Sandburg readings here.)
“ . . . through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night.” “Down – steadily down it crept.”
“ . . . I think that of Saint Patrick’s Day, Saint Patrick hadn’t heard.” From “Good Intentions” (1942) Illustrations: John Leech (1843)
For Halloween: Mister Poe's onomatopoetic masterpiece . . .
“An’ the gobble-uns ’ll git you . . . Ef you . . . Don’t . . . Watch . . . Out!”
“No memory of having starred atones for later disregard . . . " (You'll find my reading of Frost's Mending Wall by clicking on the link.)
For Halloween: A classic horror story from Mister Poe . . .
“There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it.” (From “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”)
From Stave II of Dickens’ classic . . . Ebenezer Scrooge and The Ghost of Christmas Past visit some old friends. (You can hear my reading of Scrooge’s encounter with Marley’s Ghost here.)
A little dark humor from the Master of the Macabre . . .
For Halloween: Robert Burns’ classic story of witches and warlocks . . . and a mare’s tail. Note: While this poem is technically in English, a short summary with a few “translations” may be in order. (A quick Google search should supply further details.)
Here goes . . . One dark and stormy night, following an evening’s revelry with his pal “Souter (cobbler) Johnie” by the fireside (“ingle”) of the Lord’s House Inn at Ayr, and fortified by the landlady (“Kirkton Jean”) with many draughts of ale (“nappy” or “reaming swats”), our hero Tam, with his faithful mare Maggie, ventures forth on his long road home (“hame”). As he nears the end of his journey, and approaches the bridge over the River Doon (“brig o’ Doon”), his path takes him by the ruins of the old haunted church (“kirk”) at Alloway, where Tom observes a gathering of warlocks and witches (“carlins”) dancing about in their nightshirts (“sarks”) to the tune of the piper - none other than “Auld Nick” himself, in the shape of a large shaggy dog (“towzie tyke”) at the window seat (“winnock bunker”). Tam’s attention is riveted by the dancing and capering - and rather short nightshirt (“cutty sark”) - of Nannie, a particularly “winsome wench”. As the festivities reach their peak, Tam can no longer contain his admiration as he roars out his approval: “Weel done, cutty-sark!” Mayhem ensues. Nannie and the “hellish legion” give chase, while Tam and Maggie make a mad dash for the keystone (“key-stain”) of the bridge, hoping to reach the safety of the other side. (“A running stream they dare na cross.”) . . . and thereby hangs a tail. 400 years ago today: April 23, 1616, William Shakespeare died . . . for the first time.
He has endured many subsequent “deaths” over the past four centuries (I may have been an accomplice in one or two of them myself), including this classic atrocity depicted by Mark Twain in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, wherein The Duke - an itinerant Actor and Con Man (the two professions are not mutually exclusive) - recites the famous Soliloquy from Hamlet . . . as he remembers it. Stand back Ladies and Gentlemen, whilst I hammer yet another nail into the coffin . . .
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”
A little seasonal Poe to brighten up your day . . . Footnote: “Nemo me impune lacessit” = “No one provokes me with impunity”
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