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[[EDGAR]] ALLAN POE AGAIN.
Mr. John H. Ingram, editor of a complete English edition of the works of Edgar Allan Poe (with memoir) has written to editor of the “Times and Mirror” in these terms with reference to my notes on Poe of a fortnight since. “A paragraph of ‘Written in a Library’ with reference to Edgar Allan Poe, that Mr. Woodberry, his best biographer,’ says so and so. Permit me to inform your correspondent, ‘C. W.,’ who has not, evidently, read my “Life and Letters of E. A. Poe,” that Mr. Woodberry's compliation is so largely pirated from my work that it may not be imported or sold in the British Empire. This being the case, it is a question deserving a reply from ‘C. W.’ — Where did he get the copy of the book he refers to? After having gone through several editions, my work on Poe is out of print, pending a re-issue of it in a revised and enlarged form.”
MR. INGRAM'S MEMOIR.
I have every sympathy with Mr. Ingram, and agree that he should be protected from piracy. He may rest assured that I never wittingly encourage literary piracy. Mr. Ingram's edition of Poe was first published in the early seventies, and the work has obviously enjoyed much favour. I am glad that the new issue will be not only revised and enlarged, but much cheapter. Mr. Ingram has certainly done much to improve the English reader's understanding of Poe's reputation as a man, a poet, and a writer of short stories. We should not hear so much about the decay of the short story in England if we had one or two writers equal to such a high standard of excellence as “The Gold Bug” or “The Mystery of Maria [[Marie]] Roget.” Nobody familiar with Poe's tales can read of Sherlock Holmes's marvellous skill as a detective without recalling Poe's “The Purloined Letter.” Perhaps that is why Sir Conan Doyle is to preside over the English authors’ dinner to celebrate Poe's centenary.
ADVANTAGES OF WICKEDNESS.
On the question of personal character there is this obvious remark to be offered. It is easy to make one's hero too good. If we had not been taught that Poe was irregular in his mode of life, it might not have been possible to whip up much interest in the centenary of his birth. The literary man who is thought to have been a bit of a scamp has a distinct worldly advantage in the days of posterity. His works are bought and read and criticised, while those of a highly reputable poet like Southey are largely forgotten. Said a well-know book-lover: “We should never have been heard of Savage had he been a respectable man. If there were a tradition that Southey had got tipsy and had tried to kiss Miss Maria Edgeworth, or that he had pledged ‘The Curse of Kehama,’ at a pawnbroker's. perhaps people would thinkg a good deal more of ‘The Curse of Kehama.”
THE WORLD'S WAY.
If Southey had been as unsatisfactory in the domestic circle as was his brother-in-law, Coleridge, perhaps a centenary edition of “The Curse of Kehama” might have been anticipated. But there it is, he chose to be a respectable citizen, to live with his Edith, and to love her and his children just for all the world as if he had no spark of genius in his soul. And so it comes about that we hear much more of Coleridge because of his failings than of Southey because of his virtues, and we buy Coleridge's poetry — and even his prose — while we leave Southey's works utterly neglected. Cowper's madness made him interesting. Goldsmith's squalid impecuniosity is much better remembered than his incomparable “Vicar of Wakefield,” or his “loveliest village of the plain.” Byron's reputation in these days rests more on his inability to cherish his wife than on anything he ever wrote. Shelley's reputation as a man of free thought is apparently of more importance than his enchanting “Ode to the Skylark,” and there are more people who remember Shakespeare's poaching Sir Thomas Lucy's deer than who can quote his plays or sonnets. Let a literary man outrage the proprieties of domestic or religious life, and his fame will go down to succeeding ages. He must do that, or run serious risk of being either forgotten or voted a charlatan. I dare say that somebody will remember exceptions, but they cannot get away from the rule that is this world a certain amount of impropriety, fo defiance of authority, is necessary to ensure immortality. We may blame or applaud it, but it must be there. Therefore, if Mr. Ingram, in his revised memoir, should do too much whitewashing of Edgar Allan Poe, he may help to bring oblivion, instead of a truer knowledge and a wider reading f the work of the man who could write: —
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore —
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
Nameless here for evermore.
C. W.
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Notes:
The most interesting part of Ingram's letter is his claim that he has managed to have Woodberry's biography of Poe suppressed in the UK. The most interesting part of the article in general is perhaps that it may be the earliest published form of a claim that has often been made since — that Griswold, by painting Poe in such dark tones, created a mythological image of the author that ironically helped to cement Poe's popularity.
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[S:0 - BTM, 1909] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - A Poe Bookshelf - Edgar Allan Poe Again (J. H. Ingram, 1909)