Linda's Literary Home

Tag: character sketches

  • Edgar Lee Masters’ “Robert Southey Burke”

    Image:  Edgar Lee Masters -  Alchetron https://alchetron.com/Edgar-Lee-Masters
    Image:  Edgar Lee Masters –  Alchetron

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Robert Southey Burke”

    Robert Southey Burke has a huge axe to grind with A. D. Blood.  After having once admired Blood greatly, Burke came to hate the man and everything that reminded him of him.

    Introduction and Text of “Robert Southey Burke”

    In Edgar Lee Masters’ “Robert Southey Burke” from Spoon River Anthology, Mr. Burke lets off steam from his animosity toward “A. D. Blood.”   A.D. Blood had served as mayor of Spoon River and was annoyed that a couple was now using his grave as a place to fornicate.

    Although Blood did not mention Burke, Blood’s personality begins to emerge as a self-righteous, pompous character as Burke unveils his travails.  At the same time, Burke reveals his own small, sniveling character as his complaints unfold. 

    Robert Southey Burke

    I spent my money trying to elect you Mayor,  
    A. D. Blood.
    I lavished my admiration upon you,  
    You were to my mind the almost perfect man.  
    You devoured my personality,
    And the idealism of my youth,
    And the strength of a high-souled fealty.
    And all my hopes for the world,  
    And all my beliefs in Truth,
    Were smelted up in the blinding heat
    Of my devotion to you,
    And molded into your image.
    And then when I found what you were:
    That your soul was small
    And your words were false   
    As your blue-white porcelain teeth,  
    And your cuffs of celluloid,
    I hated the love I had for you,
    I hated myself, I hated you
    For my wasted soul, and wasted youth.
    And I say to all, beware of ideals,
    Beware of giving your love away
    To any man alive.

    Commentary on “Robert Southey Burke”

    Robert Southey Burke uses his epitaph to rail against A. D. Blood. Although Burke’s  specific issues are not clear; it is clear that he came to hate a man he once greatly admired.

    First Movement:  Electing a Perfect Man

    I spent my money trying to elect you Mayor,  
    A. D. Blood.
    I lavished my admiration upon you,  
    You were to my mind the almost perfect man.  

    Burke begins by reporting, as he addresses Blood, that he “spent [his] money trying to get” Blood elected mayor.  Continuing, Burke claims that he “lavished [his] admiration” on Blood.   Burke then admits that he thought Blood was “the almost perfect man.”  Either Burke was naïve or Blood was a master at deception, likely a healthy portion of each.

    Second Movement:  Hero Worship Gone Sour

    You devoured my personality,
    And the idealism of my youth,
    And the strength of a high-souled fealty.
    And all my hopes for the world,  
    And all my beliefs in Truth,
    Were smelted up in the blinding heat
    Of my devotion to you,
    And molded into your image.

    Burke turns ugly and desperate rather quickly as he laments, “You devoured my personality, / And the idealism of my youth.”   Furthermore, Burke accuses Blood of stealing his fierce loyalty in addition to all of his “hopes for the world, / And all my beliefs in Truth.”   All of Burke’s hopes and beliefs were bound up tightly in his “devotion” to Blood.  Burke had “molded” an image of Blood that was beyond super-human.

    Third Movement:  Fake, Fake, Fake

    And then when I found what you were:
    That your soul was small
    And your words were false   
    As your blue-white porcelain teeth,  
    And your cuffs of celluloid,
    I hated the love I had for you,

    Then Burke discovered the real Blood.  Burke does not reveal how he discovered the truth about his idol, but once he did, he realizes that Blood had a small soul, that Blood’s words were as fake as his “blue-white porcelain teeth,” and his “cuffs of celluloid.”  And after making this shocking discovery, Burke “hated the love [he] had for “Blood].”

    Fourth Movement:  Admiration Turned to Hatred

    I hated myself, I hated you
    For my wasted soul, and wasted youth.
    And I say to all, beware of ideals,
    Beware of giving your love away
    To any man alive.

    Furthermore, Burke despised himself.  And he hated Blood for wasting Burke’s soul, youth, and ideals.  Burke ends his tirade by offering what he thinks is sage advice:  “Beware of giving your love away / To any man alive.”   Poor Robert Southey Burke died a lonely, disgruntled, deluded man.

  • Edgar Lee Masters’ “Sersmith the Dentist”

    Image: Edgar Lee Masters https://factfile.org/10-facts-about-edgar-lee-masters#google_vignette
    Image: Edgar Lee Masters – Fact File

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Sersmith the Dentist”

    Edgar Lee Masters’ character, a dentist named Sersmith, pontificates on the political atmosphere, using rhetorical questions to emphasize his stance. 

    Introduction and Text of “Sersmith the Dentist”

    In Edgar Lee Masters’ “Sersmith the Dentist” from the American classic Spoon River Anthology, the speaker asks four rhetorical questions and then offers a final philosophical summation. 

    This dentist proves to be one of the more bankrupt characters of the lot.  He sees everything in terms of money.  Although he does not offer a personal complaint as most of the speakers do, he goes on carping about societal and political issues.

    Unfortunately, Sersmith’s clouded mind remains a one dimension of mediocrity and error.  Misinterpreting religious and historical events leads him to ludicrous conclusions.   While Sersmith the Dentist surely thinks himself clever as he remarks about the hollow tooth filled up with gold, his quip merely signals the hollow mind of the speaker.

    Sersmith the Dentist

    Do you think that odes and sermons,
    And the ringing of church bells,
    And the blood of old men and young men,
    Martyred for the truth they saw
    With eyes made bright by faith in God,
    Accomplished the world’s great reformations?
    Do you think that the Battle Hymn of the Republic
    Would have been heard if the chattel slave
    Had crowned the dominant dollar,
    In spite of Whitney’s cotton gin,
    And steam and rolling mills and iron
    And telegraphs and white free labor?
    Do you think that Daisy Fraser
    Had been put out and driven out
    If the canning works had never needed
    Her little house and lot?
    Or do you think the poker room
    Of Johnnie Taylor, and Burchard’s bar
    Had been closed up if the money lost
    And spent for beer had not been turned,
    By closing them, to Thomas Rhodes
    For larger sales of shoes and blankets,
    And children’s cloaks and gold-oak cradles?
    Why, a moral truth is a hollow tooth
    Which must be propped with gold.

    Commentary on “Sersmith the Dentist”

    While Sersmith the Dentist no doubt thinks himself a clever fellow as he remarks about the hollow tooth filled up with gold, his quip merely signals the hollow mind of the dentist.

    First Movement:  The Rhetorical No

    Do you think that odes and sermons,
    And the ringing of church bells,
    And the blood of old men and young men,
    Martyred for the truth they saw
    With eyes made bright by faith in God,
    Accomplished the world’s great reformations?

    First, Sersmith denigrates religion.  His question reveals that he thinks “odes and sermons,” “the ringing of church bells,” and people whose faith brighten their spirit did not, in fact, “accomplish [ ] the world’s great reformations.”  

    By forming his deliberations into questions, Sersmith tries to emphasize the resounding “no” that he believes is the correct answer to each query.   In fact, the dentist’s narrow-minded view can easily be refuted by pointing to the meaning of great historical movements:  the birth of each of the world’s five major religions, Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam demolishes his putative claims utterly.  

    Each religion has had its martyrs and their names live in the hearts of the reformed.  Thus the “no” that Sersmith expects is not forthcoming.  Rhetorical questions can also be employed as weasel questions signaling that the questioner is basically unsure of his stance.  While the effective rhetorical question offers a unique emphasis for its truth, when employed by imbeciles and jerkwaters, the device falls flat.

    Second Movement:   Revisionist History

    Do you think that the Battle Hymn of the Republic
    Would have been heard if the chattel slave
    Had crowned the dominant dollar,
    In spite of Whitney’s cotton gin,
    And steam and rolling mills and iron
    And telegraphs and white free labor?

    Sersmith’s second question is merely foolish.  Slavery was abolished primarily because of moral reasons, not economical ones.  Those who take the bash-America-first side always look for ways to malign events that prove otherwise.  

    Those who continue to disparage the United States over slavery turn a willful blind eye to the fact that hundreds of thousands of brave men and women died in order to accomplish that feat.  As an educated man, Sersmith should know this historical fact.

    Third Movement:   Lack of Credibility

    Do you think that Daisy Fraser
    Had been put out and driven out
    If the canning works had never needed
    Her little house and lot?

    Sersmith now alludes to the character, “Daisy Fraser,” a prostitute who seems to know all kinds of lurid details about other members of the Spoon River community. Unfortunately, Daisy’s credibility is suspect, and now by associating his lot with hers. Sersmith adds yet another block of incredulity to his stack.  

    Fourth Movement:   The Spoonian Evil

    Or do you think the poker room
    Of Johnnie Taylor, and Burchard’s bar
    Had been closed up if the money lost
    And spent for beer had not been turned,
    By closing them, to Thomas Rhodes
    For larger sales of shoes and blankets,
    And children’s cloaks and gold-oak cradles?
    Why, a moral truth is a hollow tooth
    Which must be propped with gold.

    Beginning to repeat himself, again Sersmith decries the selling off of one establishment in order to benefit another.  He invokes the name, “Thomas Rhodes,” which becomes a spoonian meme for evil.  “Thomas Rhodes” turns up often throughout the Spoon River Anthology, whenever a villain is needed.

    Fifth Movement:  The Vacuous Mindset

    Why, a moral truth is a hollow tooth
    Which must be propped with gold.

    Sersmith’s final couplet attempts to couple his dental wisdom and his political acumen by likening a “moral truth” to a “hollow tooth” which is filled with gold.  The dentist’s quip is more comical than wise, more pathetic than informative.  Such is the nature of this mindset, forever and anon.

    Origin of the “Sexsmith” Error

    The title of this Edgar Lee Masters’ epitaph “Sersmith the Dentist” is often misspelled across the Internet as “Sexsmith the Dentist.”  In all published print copies of the Spoon River Anthology in which that epitaph appears, beginning with the 1916 edition published by Macmillan in New York, the spelling is “Sersmith” not “Sexsmith.” 

    The “Sexsmith” misspelling appears in a number of contemporary sources, such as a bartleby.com entry from July 1999.  Other current reprints replicate this error, including youtube.  Other errors appear here, here, and here.  Unfortunately, these sites are not the only ones perpetuating this error.

    Fraktur:  Possible Reason for the Error

    This misspelling likely comes from an optical character recognition (OCR) error in reading the ornate typeset in which the titles were displayed in that early edition of the Spoon River Anthology.

    In that first edition in which the Sersmith epitaph appears, titles are displayed in a font called “Fraktur,” which is a typeface style developed in the early 16th century in Germany.

    The typeface Fraktur is ornate, rather flowery with curves and spikes, and thus it is highly decorative. It was widely used in German printing until the 20th century. (See image below.)

    Image:  Fraktur - Fontspace https://www.fontspace.com/fraktur-font-f6184
    Image: Fraktur – Fontspace
  • Edgar Lee Masters’ “Griffy the Cooper”

    Image: Edgar Lee Masters https://chicagoliteraryhof.org/inductees/profile/edgar-lee-masters
    Image: Edgar Lee Masters – Chicago Literary Hall of Fame

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Griffy the Cooper”

    Griffy waxes philosophical about life from his experience as a cooper. But his thinking  results in an unprincipled point of view.  He shows himself to be weak as his diatribe remains trivial even nonsensical.

    Introduction and Text of “Griffy the Cooper”

    In Edgar Lee Masters’ “Griffy the Cooper” from the American classic Spoon River Anthology, the speaker, known only as Griffy, expounds on his expertise as a maker of tubs, extending his knowledge to a supposed profound conclusion that because of societal moral restraints, living life is like a living in a tub.

    While the speaker’s metaphor is somewhat clever, it eventually falls flat because his attempt to give advice remains weak and ineffectual.  Griffy’s premise that to escape the “tub” citizens should break societal “[t]aboos and rules” remains dangerously faulty.  Such nonsense would ultimately lead to the penitentiary, the biggest “tub” of all.

    This speaker apparently is unaware that to break out the societal prison, one must look within, not try to interfere with the very laws and rules that allow society to function.   Griffy is simply a name-calling lout, among the many others like him, trying to elevate his own worth by lessening that of others, as he spouts is pedestrian view of behavior.

    Griffy the Cooper

    The cooper should know about tubs.
    But I learned about life as well,  
    And you who loiter around these graves
    Think you know life.  
    You think your eye sweeps about a wide horizon, perhaps,  
    In truth you are only looking around the interior of your tub.
    You cannot lift yourself to its rim
    And see the outer world of things,
    And at the same time see yourself.
    You are submerged in the tub of yourself—
    Taboos and rules and appearances,  
    Are the staves of your tub.  
    Break them and dispel the witchcraft  
    Of thinking your tub is life!
    And that you know life!

    Commentary on “Griffy the Cooper”

    Griffy waxes philosophical about life from his experience as a cooper. But his thinking  results in an unprincipled point of view.  He shows himself to be weak as his diatribe remains trivial even nonsensical.

    First Movement:  What He Should Know About

    The cooper should know about tubs.
    But I learned about life as well,  
    And you who loiter around these graves
    Think you know life.  

    Griffy begins by touting his own knowledge about what he should know and that is, of course, “about tubs.”  But he then begins his discourse on learning about life in addition to his expertise in tub-making.  

    Griffy then insults the folks who would come around “these graves” by calling them loiterers who think they know about life.  But Griffy has some news for them, and he will show them that they do not know about life, but he does.

    Second Movement:  Inside Their Own Tubs

    You think your eye sweeps about a wide horizon, perhaps,  
    In truth you are only looking around the interior of your tub.

    Griffy says to those who loiter about the graves that they think they see so widely “about a wide horizon,” but in fact they are really only seeing the “interior of [their] tub.”   A useful example would have added to Griffy’s discourse, but then his offering such an example likely would have detracted from Griffy’s intellectual bankruptcy.  Thus Griffy’s diatribe remains vague and hollow.

    Third Movement:  No True Frame of Reference

    You cannot lift yourself to its rim
    And see the outer world of things,
    And at the same time see yourself.

    So, with the metaphor established that all of the grave-loiterers are firmly ensconced in their own tub, Griffy explains that from that tub they cannot lift “[themselves] to its rim.” 

    Because they cannot lift themselves, they cannot see what is actually happening outside of their tubs.  He says they have no true frame of reference, because they cannot see “the outer world of things” and “at the same time see [themselves].”  At this point, Griffy has begun a useful analogy, but can he make it work for a useful conclusion? 

    Fourth Movement:  A Tub of Rules

    You are submerged in the tub of yourself—
    Taboos and rules and appearances,  
    Are the staves of your tub.  

    According to Griffy, the people are “submerged in the tub of [themselves].”  And societal rules, taboos, and outward appearances form the “staves of [their] tub.”  In other words, people are imprisoned by the very schema that allows a civilized society to function.  Maybe Griffy should have tried a little harder to see over the lip of his own tub before drawing conclusions that would hold less water than his tubs.

    Fifth Movement:  The Efficacy of Breaking Rules

    Break them and dispel the witchcraft  
    Of thinking your tub is life!
    And that you know life!

    The bankruptcy of Griffy’s philosophy is conclusively revealed by his last proclamation.  He simply commands his audience, that is, those loitering around the graves, to break those annoying “staves” and just stop thinking “your tub is life!”  

    That is Griffy’s advice: “Break them and dispel the witchcraft / Of thinking your tub is life!”  “Them” invariably includes all the laws that keep society functioning.    And. no doubt, while Griffy is referring to religious law as “witchcraft,” he has no substantial knowledge about the history and purpose of the great world religions.

    Griffy implores his listeners to stop thinking “that you know life!”  Then what?  He then puts a hold on his diatribe before he could fill out his philosophy and explain the consequences of his demands. 

    This state of affairs remains rather typical for the Spoon River inmates who are big on hot-air inflated rhetoric and small on truth and logic. The reader will assign Griffy to the category of pathetic blow-hards whose epitaphs reek of a pompous nihilism.

  • Edgar Lee Masters’ “Hon. Henry Bennett”

    Image:  Edgar Lee Masters - Portrait by Francis J. Quirk https://francisquirk.blogspot.com/2017/03/visit-to-national-portrait-gallery.html
    Image:  Edgar Lee Masters – Portrait by Francis J. Quirk https://francisquirk.blogspot.com/2017/03/visit-to-national-portrait-gallery.html

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Hon. Henry Bennett”

    Henry Bennett is a pathetic character, who realizes too late that he has been played for fool by his wife.

    Introduction and Text of “Hon. Henry Bennett”

    Edgar Lee Masters’ again allows his Spoon River lamenter to fashion his lament in an American-Innovative sonnet.  Featuring the traditional fourteen lines, the sonnet remain rimeless and without a definite rhythm patters.

    In Edgar Lee Masters’ “Hon. Henry Bennett” from the American classic Spoon River Anthology, the speaker laments his rapacious wife’s treachery:  she effectively “loved” him to death, but not out of love.    His wife had in mind to inherit Henry’s fortune and then marry the man of her dreams, the one with big muscles and a small brain.

    The Honorable Henry Bennett is one of Spoon River’s more pathetic characters.  His wife, who was much younger than the judge, literally screwed the man to death.  By the time he realized what was happening, he was on his deathbed.   The wife’s treachery rendered the poor man a fool.

    Hon. Henry Bennett

    It never came into my mind
    Until I was ready to die
    That Jenny had loved me to death, with malice of heart.
    For I was seventy, she was thirty-five,
    And I wore myself to a shadow trying to husband
    Jenny, rosy Jenny full of the ardor of life.  
    For all my wisdom and grace of mind
    Gave her no delight at all, in very truth,
    But ever and anon she spoke of the giant strength
    Of Willard Shafer, and of his wonderful feat
    Of lifting a traction engine out of the ditch  
    One time at Georgie Kirby’s.
    So Jenny inherited my fortune and married Willard—
    That mount of brawn! That clownish soul!

    Commentary on “Hon. Henry Bennett”

    Henry Bennett is a pathetic character, who realizes too late that he has been played for fool by his wife.

    First Movement:  “Loved” to Death

    It never came into my mind
    Until I was ready to die
    That Jenny had loved me to death, with malice of heart.

    Judge Bennett confesses that it had not occurred to him until he was on his death bed that his young wife, Jenny, had deliberately tried to kill him by engaging him in too much sexual activity. 

    The young Jenny literally “loved him to death.”  Euphemizing lascivious marital relations as “love,” the judge, nevertheless, now realizes that her intention had nothing to do with love and affection but with “with malice of heart.”

    Second Movement:  Twice Her Age

    For I was seventy, she was thirty-five,
    And I wore myself to a shadow trying to husband
    Jenny, rosy Jenny full of the ardor of life.  

    The Honorable Henry Bennett was seventy years old when he married the woman, Jenny, who was half his age.  She was “full of the ardor of life”—another veiled reference to her oversexualized comportment.  

    In the judge’s supposed husbandly duties, the poor Henry “wore [himself] to a shadow” attempting to keep Jenny satisfied.  He also describes Jenny as “rosy,” indicating the rush of blood that appears on the skin after a sexual encounter.

    Third Movement:  No Interest in His Mind

    For all my wisdom and grace of mind
    Gave her no delight at all, in very truth,
    But ever and anon she spoke of the giant strength
    Of Willard Shafer, and of his wonderful feat
    Of lifting a traction engine out of the ditch  
    One time at Georgie Kirby’s.

    Jenny demonstrated no interest in the judge’s “wisdom and grace of mind.”  We have to take Henry’s word for it that he possessed such praiseworthy qualities, but whatever his redeeming qualities might have been, his wife showed no interest in them.

    Instead, the wife admired physical strength.  She was always taunting Henry by repeating the story that Willard Shafer had “lift[ed] a traction engine out of the ditch / One time at Geogrie Kirby’s.”  

    His wife likely used this story repeatedly to entice Henry to service her sexually in order weaken Henry’s health.  But of course, as Henry said, he did not realize the nasty game Jenny was playing until it was too late.

    Fourth Movement:  Rich Enough to Marry Her Stud

    So Jenny inherited my fortune and married Willard—
    That mount of brawn! That clownish soul!

    To make a long story short, Henry quickly sums up his lament by reporting that after his death, Jenny married the man of the “giant strength,” Willard Shafer, after inheriting Henry’s fortune.  Jenny’s scheme succeeded, and Henry is left to name-call Jenny’s new husband, “That mount of brawn!  That clownish soul!”

    Lacking the “wisdom and grace of mind” of the Honorable Henry Bennett, the strongman Willard Shafer wins the woman and the judge’s money.  And the Hon. Henry Bennett is not at all happy, definitely not resting in peace.

  • Edgar Lee Masters’ “Louise Smith”

    Image: Edgar Lee Masters http://www.jackmasters.net/mastelm.html Jack Masters
    Image: Edgar Lee Masters – Jack Masters

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Louise Smith”

    In Edgar Lee Masters’ American-Innovative sonnet, “Louise Smith” is a woman, who was jilted after an eight-year engagement.

    Introduction and Text of “Louise Smith”

    In Edgar Lee Masters’ “Louise Smith” from his American classic Spoon River Anthology, the speaker laments allowing her love for the man who jilted her to turn into hate.  This epitaph is offered in the form of an American-Innovative sonnet.

    Louise is speaking many years after the sorrowful event.  She becomes very philosophical about what happened to her.  Thus Louise is offering advice to others about selfish wishes and the nature of the soul.

    Louise Smith

    Herbert broke our engagement of eight years
    When Annabelle returned to the village
    From the Seminary, ah me!
    If I had let my love for him alone
    It might have grown into a beautiful sorrow—
    Who knows?—filling my life with healing fragrance.
    But I tortured it, I poisoned it,  
    I blinded its eyes, and it became hatred—  
    Deadly ivy instead of clematis.
    And my soul fell from its support,
    Its tendrils tangled in decay.
    Do not let the will play gardener to your soul
    Unless you are sure  
    It is wiser than your soul’s nature.

    Commentary on “Louise Smith”

    Edgar Lee Masters’ American-Innovative sonnet, “Louise Smith,” feature the drama of a woman who was jilted after an eight-year engagement.

    First Movement:  An “Ah, Me!” Moment

    Herbert broke our engagement of eight years
    When Annabelle returned to the village
    From the Seminary, ah me!

    Louise says that after Annabelle came back to Spoon River “from the Seminary,” her fiancé Herbert broke their eight-year engagement.   Louise then heaves a verbal indication of a sigh, “ah me!”

    Second Movement:  Waxing Philosophical

    If I had let my love for him alone
    It might have grown into a beautiful sorrow—
    Who knows?—filling my life with healing fragrance.

    Louise has garnered a philosophical stance regarding her unpleasant situation with Herbert.   She has turned over the situation in her mind and concluded that if she had simply allowed herself to continue loving him and thus allowed herself to grieve, that love “might have grown into a beautiful sorrow.”

    This “beautiful sorrow” likely would have led to a healing; she express that sentiment gently and graciously, “filling my life with healing fragrance.”   The reader then realizes that Louise will possibly be announcing how she took a different route and the “healing fragrance” eluded her.

    Third Movement:  A Confession

    But I tortured it, I poisoned it,  
    I blinded its eyes, and it became hatred—  
    Deadly ivy instead of clematis.

    Louise then confesses that she “tortured” and “poisoned” that love.  She “blinded its eyes,” and love transformed into hate.   Louise allowed herself to become bitter, concentrating not on what the love had been but simply that Herbert had dumped her for Annabelle.  

    No doubt, Louise’s hatred was doubled as she included Annabelle in that violent emotion.  Louise likens metaphorically her embattled loathing to “deadly ivy” whereas it had been “clematis.”   Louise’s own hatred poisoned her mind and heart.

    Fourth Movement:  Poisoning Her Soul

    And my soul fell from its support,
    Its tendrils tangled in decay.

    By allowing her heart and mind to poison her soul, to turn the beauty of clematis into the lethality of ivy, Louise caused her soul to fall “from its support.”    Continuing with the plant metaphor, Louise says her soul support’s “tendrils tangled in decay.”  Clematis produces lovely flowers as it climbs up a wall or trellis, but deadly ivy is poison ivy that can kill.  Both grow on stems that are called tendrils.  

    Louise’s metaphor focuses on the tangling of the deadly ivy that would cause decay because the tangled stems would choke the plant keeping out air and sunlight.   She is thus showing how her negative attitude choked off her positive emotions, which caused her love to become tangled in a web of hate where it decayed.

    Fifth Movement: Advice to the Love-Lorn

    Do not let the will play gardener to your soul
    Unless you are sure  
    It is wiser than your soul’s nature.

    Louise offers advice based on her own experience.  She counsels others, “[d]o not let the will play gardener to your soul / Unless you are sure / It is wiser than your soul’s nature.”

    Remaining with the plant metaphor, she tells her listeners not to allow selfish wishes to tend the soul, as a gardener would tend plants—that is, unless you know that those selfish wishes are more intelligent and “wiser” than the soul.   Because the soul is always wiser than selfish wishes, Louise accomplishes the goal of her advice.

  • Edgar Lee Masters’ “Nellie Clark”

    Image:  Edgar Lee Masters -  Alchetron https://alchetron.com/Edgar-Lee-Masters
    Image:  Edgar Lee Masters –  Alchetron

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Nellie Clark”

    Nellie Clark’s report focuses on the traumatic event she experienced at only eight years of age.

    Introduction and Text of “Nellie Clark”

    The speaker of Edgar Lee Masters’ epitaph titled “Nellie Clark” from his American classic, Spoon River Anthology, begins her blunt report by describing a horrific event that certainly influenced the direction of her life and likely shortened her life.

    Although this character remains simplistic, lacking much depth of experience and feeling, she does communicate her confusion  and life of horror as she focuses on the despicable act that ruined her life.

    Nellie Clark

    I was only eight years old;
    And before I grew up and knew what it meant
    I had no words for it, except
    That I was frightened and told my Mother;
    And that my Father got a pistol
    And would have killed Charlie, who was a big boy,
    Fifteen years old, except for his Mother.
    Nevertheless the story clung to me.
    But the man who married me, a widower of thirty-five,
    Was a newcomer and never heard it
    Till two years after we were married.
    Then he considered himself cheated,
    And the village agreed that I was not really a virgin.
    Well, he deserted me, and I died
    The following winter.

    Commentary on “Nellie Clark”

    Nellie Clark’s report focuses on the traumatic event she experienced at only eight years of age.

    First Movement:  A Violent Experience

    I was only eight years old;
    And before I grew up and knew what it meant
    I had no words for it, except
    That I was frightened and told my Mother;

    When she was only eight years old, Nellie was raped by Charlie, an older boy of fifteen. The little girl did not even realize what had happened to her, and she could not even give that act a label; as she explains, she had “no words for it.”

    However, Nellie did describe the act to her mother because she did experience fear after she was violated.   Although Nellie has no word for crime at only age eight, even as she reports as an adult, she never uses the term “rape.”  

    However, no reader can come away from Nellie’s description without knowing what had occurred and know that the term “rape” does apply to what happened to the little girl.  As an eight year old, there is no way that Nellie could have consented to that violent assault that took her virginity.  

    Second Movement:  Violent Intentions

    And that my Father got a pistol
    And would have killed Charlie, who was a big boy,
    Fifteen years old, except for his Mother.
    Nevertheless the story clung to me.

    After learning about what happened to his daughter, Nellie’s father took out his pistol with intentions of killing the boy, Charlie, who had raped his daughter.  Nellie’s father, however, did not kill the boy.  And it remains somewhat unclear who managed to stop him.  

    Nellie states it this way:  ” . . .  my Father got a pistol And would have killed Charlie, who was a big boy, / Fifteen years old, except for his Mother.” It remains unclear whether the “Mother” was the mother of Nellie’s father or the mother of Charlie, the boy who raped Nellie.

    It is likely Charlie’s mother.  Nellie would possibly have said her grandmother, if Nellie’s father’s mother has been the one to stop him. Either way, some mother prevents Nellie’s father from becoming a murderer, which would have further traumatized the young girl.

    Third Movement:  Nellie’s Husband

    But the man who married me, a widower of thirty-five,
    Was a newcomer and never heard it
    Till two years after we were married.

    Nellie then reports that she had to live with the story following her throughout her life; she expresses it as, “the story clung to me.”   Eventually, Nellie marries a man who had relocated to Spoon River and who did not know about the crime perpetrated against Nellie. 

    Nellie’s husband had been a widower and was thirty-five years old.  It is unclear the exact age of Nellie at the time of marriage, but she appears to suggest that she was still in her teens or likely in her early twenties.

    Nellie and her husband had been married only two years when he learned that Nellie had been raped when she was eight years old.  The man’s “newcomer” status had prevented him from being aware of the story clinging to the young Nellie.

    Fourth Movement:  He Felt Cheated

    Then he considered himself cheated,
    And the village agreed that I was not really a virgin.
    Well, he deserted me, and I died
    The following winter.

    After learning about Nellie’s attack and therefore her lack of virginity, her husband leaves her.  He claimed that he felt “cheated.”  Nellie asserts that, “the village agreed that I was not really a virgin.” Then after being abandoned by her husband, Nellie dies the “following winter.”   Nellie offers no indication as to how she died.

    Nellie, thus, leaves her listeners wondering how old she was when she died and what caused her early death, but those two details pale in comparison to the grizzly scene Nellie had earlier in her report planted in the mind’s eye of her readers.

  • Edgar Lee Masters’ “Homer Clapp” 

    Image: Edgar Lee Masters http://www.jackmasters.net/mastelm.html Jack Masters
    Image: Edgar Lee Masters – Jack Masters

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Homer Clapp” 

    “Homer Clapp” is the third epitaph in the series which began with “Aner Clute.” Homer is a pitiful character, who feels sorry for himself because of the way he was treated by Aner Clute.

    Introduction and Text of “Homer Clapp”

    In Edgar Lee Masters’ epitaph titled “Homer Clapp” from Masters’ American classic Spoon River Anthology, the character laments an existence which resulted in his considering himself one of “Life’s fools.”

    Masters’ epitaph “Homer Clapp” is the third in the series beginning with “Aner Clute” and followed by “Lucius Atherton“; Homer is a sorry character, who complains that he was played for fool by Aner Clute.

    Homer Clapp

    Often Aner Clute at the gate  
    Refused me the parting kiss,
    Saying we should be engaged before that;  
    And just with a distant clasp of the hand  
    She bade me good-night, as I brought her home
    From the skating rink or the revival.  
    No sooner did my departing footsteps die away  
    Than Lucius Atherton,
    (So I learned when Aner went to Peoria)
    Stole in at her window, or took her riding
    Behind his spanking team of bays
    Into the country.
    The shock of it made me settle down,  
    And I put all the money I got from my father’s estate  
    Into the canning factory, to get the job
    Of head accountant, and lost it all.
    And then I knew I was one of Life’s fools,
    Whom only death would treat as the equal  
    Of other men, making me feel like a man.

    Commentary on “Homer Clapp”

    The third epitaph in the series “Homer Clapp” begins with “Aner Clute” followed by “Lucius Atherton.” Homer is a pitiful character, who feels sorry for himself because of how he was treated by Aner Clute.

    First Movement:  A Ridiculous Spectacle 

    Often Aner Clute at the gate  
    Refused me the parting kiss,
    Saying we should be engaged before that;  
    And just with a distant clasp of the hand  
    She bade me good-night, as I brought her home
    From the skating rink or the revival.  

    The character “Homer Clapp” is sad man, whose association with Aner Clute, the prostitute, left him degraded and beaten.  Aner had claimed that she began her life as a hooker because of being rebuffed by Lucius Atherton.  

    Later, however, Aner recants her story and claims ridiculously that she started living the life because of the way society views prostitutes—kind of like the way society views a boy who steals apples from a grocery store.  

    Homer commences his pathetic story “at the gate” with Aner Clute refusing to kiss him goodnight. She always refused to give him a good-bye kiss after he had taken her on a date either to “the skating rink”  or “the revival.”  

    Aner would extend to him only  a “distant clasp of the hand,” remarking that before she would permit him to kiss her, they would have to have become “engaged” to be married.  This ridiculous spectacle shows clearly Aner’s disingenuous nature and dramatizes her behavior which is full of deceit, making her resemble so many of the other dissembling Spoon River characters.

    Second Movement:  Town Gossip

    No sooner did my departing footsteps die away  
    Than Lucius Atherton,
    (So I learned when Aner went to Peoria)
    Stole in at her window, or took her riding
    Behind his spanking team of bays
    Into the country.

    Homer then appears to be providing town gossip as he claims that after he had left Aner at the gate, Lucius Atherton came sneaking in at Aner’s window.  The two then went about with “her riding / Behind his spanking team of bays.” 

    The window sneaking sounds like an over-dramatic claim. It remains somewhat vague and a shaky notion that Lucius would need to sneak in to take Aner for a ride.   However, Homer does report that he found out about Aner’s deceptive behavior only after she had relocated to Peoria.  The timeline seems to impart the notion that Aner had actually moved to Peoria for the purpose of becoming a prostitute.

    Aner, however, had concocted  her narrative about being jilted by Atherton before she moved from Spoon River. Still, it seems that Homer had heard about this claim of Aner’s  only after she had left Spoon River for Peoria.

    Homer’s bit of gossip that Atherton owned “a spanking team of bays” might hint that Atherton had, in fact, been considered a “rich man” by Aner and other Spoon River residents who were less well off than Atherton was.

    Third Movement:  No Kiss Until Engaged

    The shock of it made me settle down,  
    And I put all the money I got from my father’s estate  
    Into the canning factory, to get the job
    Of head accountant, and lost it all.

    Homer’s story turns out to be that because of Aner’s deception of dating Homer while leading him on and demanding that they be engaged before a kiss, and at the same time fooling around with Lucius, Homer experienced “shock.” 

    That shock caused Homer to sink his inheritance into the canning factory. and after placing all that money into the canning factory in order “to get the job / Of head accountant,” Homer “lost it all.”  

    Apparently, Homer lost his job along with his money as well as any chance for marital happiness.  However, Homer remains quite vague at this point and does not make clear what he means when he says he lost “it all.” 

    Fourth Movement:  Just a Fool

    And then I knew I was one of Life’s fools,
    Whom only death would treat as the equal  
    Of other men, making me feel like a man.

    Homer complains that his experiences in life, especially the Aner situation and loss of his money have convinced him that “[he] was one of Life’s fools.”  Homer considers himself the type of fool that, “only death would treat as the equal / Of other men.”  

    Therefore, because death will come to all men equally, Homer can “feel like a man,” with the knowledge that death would definitely arrive for him just as it will do for all other men.

  • Edgar Lee Masters’ “Aner Clute”

    Image: Edgar Lee Masters https://www.best-poems.net/edgar_lee_masters/index.html#google_vignette
    Image: Edgar Lee Masters

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Aner Clute”

    Edgar Lee Masters’ speaker in “Aner Clute” compares her choosing “the life” to a boy stealing an apple from a grocery store.

    Introduction and Text of “Aner Clute”

    In Edgar Lee Masters’ “Aner Clute,” from Spoon River Anthology, the speaker is a prostitute, who blames others for her own life choices, as many of the Spoon River soliloquists are wont to do.

    The bulk of Aner Clute’s drama plays out in her comparison of her choosing “the life” to a boy stealing an apple from a grocery store.  Like many other Spoon River speakers, Miss Clute dabbles in a ridiculous fantasy designed solely to relieve her of her own guilty life choices.

    Aner Clute

    Over and over they used to ask me,
    While buying the wine or the beer,
    In Peoria first, and later in Chicago,
    Denver, Frisco, New York, wherever I lived,
    How I happened to lead the life,
    And what was the start of it.
    Well, I told them a silk dress,
    And a promise of marriage from a rich man—
    (It was Lucius Atherton).
    But that was not really it at all.
    Suppose a boy steals an apple
    From the tray at the grocery store,
    And they all begin to call him a thief,
    The editor, minister, judge, and all the people—
    “A thief,” “a thief,” “a thief,” wherever he goes.
    And he can’t get work, and he can’t get bread
    Without stealing it, why the boy will steal.
    It’s the way the people regard the theft of the apple
    That makes the boy what he is.

    Commentary on “Aner Clute”

    Edgar Lee Masters’ speaker in “Aner Clute” compares her choosing “the life” to a boy stealing an apple from a grocery store.

    First Movement:  Getting into “The Life”

    Over and over they used to ask me,
    While buying the wine or the beer,
    In Peoria first, and later in Chicago,  
    Denver, Frisco, New York, wherever I lived,
    How I happened to lead the life,
    And what was the start of it.

    Aner begins her drama by reporting that her johns (customers of a prostitute) would ask her how she got into “the life,” which is a euphemism for prostitution.  They supposedly wanted to know “what was the start of it.”   

    These johns in Peoria, Chicago, Denver, San Francisco, New York, or “wherever [she] lived” would put these questions to her as they were “buying the wine or the beer.”

    No doubt, they asked not so much because they cared how she became a “working girl,” but likely just to have something to say.   They probably had little else in common with their companion for the night, and such a question would seem personal enough yet non-intimidating.

    Second Movement:  Blame it on a Dress and a Promise

    Well, I told them a silk dress,  
    And a promise of marriage from a rich man—
    (It was Lucius Atherton).  

    Aner claims she would tell them she got into the business because of “a silk dress, / And a promise of marriage from a rich man.”  She even names the man, Lucius Atherton.

    Third Movement:  A Lie and Ludicrous Comparison

    But that was not really it at all.
    Suppose a boy steals an apple
    From the tray at the grocery store,
    And they all begin to call him a thief,  
    The editor, minister, judge, and all the people—  

    Aner then admits that her claim about the marriage promise and the silk dress was a lie, and she begins a ludicrous comparison of her choice to sell sex for a living to a boy stealing an apple from a grocery store.   Clute’s pitiful plaint is that “the editor, minister, judge, and all the people” took up the refrain of calling the boy “a thief.”

    Fourth Movement:  The Label Makes the Man

    “A thief,” “a thief,” “a thief,” wherever he goes.
    And he can’t get work, and he can’t get bread
    Without stealing it, why the boy will steal.  
    It’s the way the people regard the theft of the apple
    That makes the boy what he is.

    Clute continues her analogy and chorus of “all the people” calling the boy, “A thief,” “a thief,” “a thief.”  Everywhere the poor lad goes someone calls him a thief.   The boy’s reputation as a thief prevents the boy from finding any job.  He cannot even supply his own meals, so the boy can do only one thing—continue to steal.

    According to Aner, the boy’s predicament was not engendered by the boy stealing an apple; his life as a thief resulted from “the way the people regard the theft of the apple.”  Their heartless taunting “ma[de] the boy what he is.” 

    The reason that Aner’s analogy to the boy-turned-thief sounds utterly asinine is because it is.  She is implying that because she took money once for sex, she had to continue because everywhere she went, people would call her names like whore, slut, slattern or whatever.  

    So Aner’s difficulty was not her own making.  Her downfall was having other people label her a whore that made her actually become a prostitute.  Such is the convoluted thinking of many of these Spoon River cemetery inmates.  They are never to blame for their choices—they blame society in the town of Spoon River.

  • Edgar Lee Masters’ “A. D. Blood”

    Image: Edgar Lee Masters https://chicagoliteraryhof.org/inductees/profile/edgar-lee-masters
    Image: Edgar Lee Masters – Chicago Literary Hall of Fame

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “A. D. Blood”

    Edgar Lee Masters’ character A. D. Blood, who led a crusade to eliminate sin in Spoon River, is now suffering the agony of having a couple use his grave for trysting.

    Introduction and Text of  “A. D. Blood”

    In Edgar Lee Masters’ “A. D. Blood” from the American classic Spoon River Anthology, the speaker offers a report that is short and distinct; he has a simple complaint that he hurls at the Spoon River folk in the form of a question. Mr. A. D. Blood is bemoaning the agony he suffers from having a couple employ his grave as a bed where they engaging in the act of fornication.

    A. D. Blood

    If you in the village think that my work was a good one,  
    Who closed the saloons and stopped all playing at cards,  
    And haled old Daisy Fraser before Justice Arnett,
    In many a crusade to purge the people of sin;  
    Why do you let the milliner’s daughter Dora,
    And the worthless son of Benjamin Pantier  
    Nightly make my grave their unholy pillow?

    Commentary on “A. D. Blood”

    Edgar Lee Masters’ character A. D. Blood is complaining that a couple has been using his grave for trysting, and the righteous Blood, who fancies he ridded the town of sin, does not take kindly to that unholy act.

    First Movement:  Appreciation Doubted

    Mr. Blood cautiously assumes that the village of Spoon River appreciated the fact that he went about on “a crusade to purge the people of sin.”  Mayor Blood was instrumental in closing saloons and shutting down gambling.  

    Mr. Blood even snitched on Daisy Fraser’s prostitution activity, causing her to be hauled up in from of Judge Arnett repeatedly. Mr. Blood is sure that his work was good, but he can only surmise that the town agreed with him; thus he is forced to place his activities in an “if” clause and then ask his pertinent question.

    Second Movement:  A Legend in His Own Mind

    Because Mr. Blood had such a good influence on Spoon River, at least in his own mind, he now wonders why the town allows this impertinent couple to fornicate on his grave. Mr. Blood names the couple:  “the worthless son of Benjamin Pantier” and “the milliner’s daughter Dora.” 

    Mr. Blood colorfully refers to their dirty deed as “[n]ightly mak[ing] my grave their unholy pillow.”   But was Mr. Blood correct in calling Reuben Pantier “worthless”?  Emily Sparks offers a different opinion regarding Reuben.

  • Edgar Lee Masters’ “Justice Arnett”

    Image:  Edgar Lee Masters -  Alchetron https://alchetron.com/Edgar-Lee-Masters
    Image:  Edgar Lee Masters –  Alchetron

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Justice Arnett”

    Justice Arnett is featured in his own poem where he demonstrates weakness and confusion, commensurate with many other of his fellow citizens of Spoon River.

    Introduction and Text of “Justice Arnett”

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Justice Arnett” from the American classic Spoon River Anthology features a character, who died after his court docket fell and gashed his bald head.  This character is mentioned in three other anthology entries: “Daisy Fraser,” “Lydia Puckett” and “A. D. Blood.”

    Justice Arnett

    It is true, fellow citizens,
    That my old docket lying there for years
    On a shelf above my head and over  
    The seat of justice, I say it is true
    That docket had an iron rim
    Which gashed my baldness when it fell—  
    (Somehow I think it was shaken loose
    By the heave of the air all over town  
    When the gasoline tank at the canning works  
    Blew up and burned Butch Weldy)—
    But let us argue points in order,  
    And reason the whole case carefully:
    First I concede my head was cut,
    But second the frightful thing was this:
    The leaves of the docket shot and showered
    Around me like a deck of cards  
    In the hands of a sleight of hand performer.
    And up to the end I saw those leaves
    Till I said at last, “Those are not leaves,
    Why, can’t you see they are days and days
    And the days and days of seventy years?  
    And why do you torture me with leaves  
    And the little entries on them?”

    Commentary on “Justice Arnett”

    Justice Arnett demonstrates weakness and confusion, similar to  many of the other weak  and/or corrupt citizens, portrayed in the Spoon River collection of epitaphs.

    First Movement:   Confirming a Rumor

    It is true, fellow citizens,
    That my old docket lying there for years
    On a shelf above my head and over  
    The seat of justice, I say it is true
    That docket had an iron rim
    Which gashed my baldness when it fell—  

    Opening his monologue, the justice seems to be confirming the details of his demise as if there had been some speculation about it.  To end the speculation, he confirms, “It is true, fellow citizens.”  The docket that had been lying above his head for many years did, in fact, fall, and when it did, it “gashed [his] baldness.”

    Arnett positions the docket on a shelf not only above his head but also “over the seat of justice.”  He seems to need to emphasize that he occupied this “seat of justice,” for he wants to put himself in the best light, as most of the Spoon River speakers do.

    Second Movement:  The Cause of the Falling Docket

    (Somehow I think it was shaken loose
    By the heave of the air all over town  
    When the gasoline tank at the canning works  
    Blew up and burned Butch Weldy)—

    The reader then learns what caused the docket to fall.  The reader will recall the “Butch” Weldy incident, in which Weldy suffered two broken legs and was blinded for life.  Weldy was pouring gasoline into the tank at the canning factory when the tank blew up.  

    Arnett makes light of Weldy’s injuries by merely stating the accident “burned Butch Weldy.”  But the justice speculates that the explosion so “heaved the air all over town” that it shook loose the docket and caused it to fall.

    Third Movement:    Points of Order on Dying

    But let us argue points in order,  
    And reason the whole case carefully:
    First I concede my head was cut,
    But second the frightful thing was this:

    The justice then shifts to legalese to inflate his philosophizing about his ultimate demise:  “let us argue points in order.”  He has two points to “argue”:  one is that his “head was cut,” and two is that there was a frightful component to this incident.  

    The reader will sense that the justice sounds somewhat demented in his explanation.  The dementia might stem from Alzheimer’s disease or it might simply be the trauma of having been conked on the noggin by a big, heavy, metal-edged book.

    Fourth Movement:   The Image of Leaves

    The leaves of the docket shot and showered
    Around me like a deck of cards  
    In the hands of a sleight of hand performer.

    Arnett describes the events of the frightful occurrence, “[t]he leaves of the docket shot and showered / Around me like a deck of cards / In the hands of a sleight of hand performer.”  This description sounds quite realistic, and Arnett’s listeners can readily see the image he presents.

    Fifth Movement:   Logic and Dementia

    And up to the end I saw those leaves
    Till I said at last, “Those are not leaves,
    Why, can’t you see they are days and days
    And the days and days of seventy years?  
    And why do you torture me with leaves  
    And the little entries on them?”

    Arnett’s final words reveal the fright, possible dementia, and as well as a fairly well grounded logic.  The deck-of-card image turns back to leaves, which makes sense because pages in a book are called “leaves.” But then the justice recounts that he “said at last, ‘Those are not leaves’.” 

    Suddenly, Arnett is speaking as if refuting someone who has accused him of having nothing more than “leaves” in his court docket.  He reprimands his imaginary accuser, “Why, can’t you see they are days and days / And the days and days of seventy years?” 

    The justice disabuses his accuser of the notion that his docket was merely filled with leaves; it was filled with his life’s work.  Day after day for seventy years, he has recorded his life’s work in that docket.

    But then the justice makes a remarkable confession when he asks, “And why do you torture me with leaves / And the little entries on them?”

    Suddenly those days and days of the justice’s life’s work are again reduced to leaves with “little entries on them.”  In his fright and confusion, he is no longer certain that his life has made sense or even had any value.