THE TOLLING OF THE BELLS -- AN ARCHETYPAL AMERICAN TRAGEDY AND TRAVESTY AS SUNG BY AMERICAN TOPICAL PROTEST SINGER PHILIP DAVID “PHIL” OCHS (b[irthed] 1940—d[eceased] 1976) and ANIMATED BY BETSY LEE DEDICATED UNTO MADEMOISELLE SOLARIS BLUERAVEN AMID THE SEASON OF THE WITCH One Hundred and Sixty-Five Years (165 yrs) Ago Yesterday, on October 7th of 1849, American Author, Pœt, Editor and Literary Critic EDGAR ALLAN “EDDIE” PŒ (b1809—d1849; Assassinated[?]) Died Under Mysterious Circumstances at Forty Years (40 yrs) of Age. The breadth of Edgar Allan Pœ’s Inflᵫnce on Transatlantic Culture is incalculable. He Independently Invented The Detective Story in The Western World (whereas it had existed for a Thousand Years in Asia), Contributed to the development of both Science Fiction and The Horror Genré, and Wrote about the only American Pœm anybody knows – certainly the only one popular enough to have an NFL (National Football Leagᵫ) Team named after it. His Æsthetic and Themes have Inflᵫnced such Cultural Icons as Spanish Catalan Surrealist SALVADOR DOMINGO FELIPE JACINTO DALÍ i DOMÈNECH, 1st MARQUÉS DE PUBOL (b1904—d1989), French Pœt CHARLES PIERRE BAUDELAIRE (b1821—d1867) and English Film Director & Producer SIR ALFRED JOSEPH HITCHCOCK of The Most Excellent Order of The British Empire (b1899—d1980) – The Last of Whom Credited Pœ’s Works with Inspiring him to make Suspense Films. A Century and a Half after his Untimely Death, Pœ still makes Appearances on Television Shows like THE FOLLOWING and SOUTH PARK as well as the upcoming Movies THE TELL-TALE HEART Starring ROSE McGOWAN and STONEHEARST ASYLUM with KATE BECKINSALE and MICHÆL CAINE. In addition to numerous Pœ Societies (including ones in Denmark and The Czech Republic), there are Museums devoted to him in Richmond, Philadelphia, Baltimore and The Bronx. Opened in 1922, The Pœ Museum in Richmond boasts the world’s largest collection of Pœ’s Personal Items and Memorabilia. Pœ was born in Boston in 1809 but grew up in Richmond, Virginia and Attended The University of Virginia. His Early Years were plagᵫd by the Death of his Mother when he was but Two Years of Age, his First Love when he was Fifteen and his Foster Mother when he was Twenty. After Dropping Out of College and Expulsion from West Point, Pœ took a job as Editor at The Southern Literary Messenger in Richmond. His controversial Fiction and scathing Book Reviews boosted the Magazine’s Circulation Seven Times in Seventeen Months (7X / 17 mnths) and he was Fired Twice in the process. On his Second Termination, Pœ took a series of Editorial Positions at the leading Magazines in Philadelphia and New York and Supplemented his Income with Lectures and Public Readings. His Short Story “THE GOLD BUG” was a monumental success, but Publication of “THE RAVEN” earned him International Recognition (while Earning him Naught but Fifteen United States Dollars [U$D15]). After The Death of his Wife from Tuberculosis at The Age of Twenty-Four (the same Age at which his Mother and Brother also Died), Pœ devoted his Remaining Years to Developing and Publishing an Early Version of The “Big Bang” Theory entitled Eureka. During a Lecture Tour of The East Coast, Pœ Engaged himself to a Former Childhood Sweetheart (by then a Wealthy Widow) ELMIRA ROYSTER SHELTON back in Richmond, but he Died Ten Days before The Wedding while passing through Baltimore. Cause of his Death Remains a Mystery. In Archetypical American Tradition: Eddie Pœ’s Personal Blood-Enemy was Publicly Sought Out and Entrusted to Write his Obituary. Talentless Writer RUFUS WILMOT GRISWOLD Poison-Penned a lengthy Obituary for his Professional Better that was so Libelous Griswold Signed it with a Pseudonym. The Article Defamed the hapless Pœ as a Mad, Drunken, Womanizing Opium Addict who based his darkest Tales on Personal Crimes and Experiences. Not satisfied with dancing on Pœ’s Grave, Griswold Expanded this Hatchet-Account into a “Memoir” of The Decedent Author and raked in Gainful Profit(s) even as his Slanderous picture of Pœ would Prejudice Popular Opinion Against America’s Greatest Author for Over a Century (100+ yrs) …. Further Reading: “PŒ MUST DIE (Mass Market Paperback: 466 pages; Publisher: Charter Books [September 1st, 1978]),” by Afrikan-American Author MARC OLDEN (1933—2003) ~ Douglas Duane Dietrich THE BELLS I 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 oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; 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. II Hear the mellow wedding bells, Golden bells! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight! From the molten-golden notes, And an in tune, What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats On the moon! Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells! How it dwells On the Future! how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells,bells, Bells, bells, bells- To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! III Hear the loud alarum bells- Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire, Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavor, Now- now to sit or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon. Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging, And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows: Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells- Of the bells- Of the bells, bells, bells,bells, Bells, bells, bells- In the clamor and the clangor of the bells! IV Hear the tolling of the bells- Iron Bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people- ah, the people- They that dwell up in the steeple, All Alone And who, tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone- They are neither man nor woman- They are neither brute nor human- They are Ghouls: And their king it is who tolls; And he rolls, rolls, rolls, Rolls A paean from the bells! And his merry bosom swells With the paean of the bells! And he dances, and he yells; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the paean of the bells- Of the bells: Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the throbbing of the bells- Of the bells, bells, bells- To the sobbing of the bells; Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In a happy Runic rhyme, To the rolling of the bells- Of the bells, bells, bells: To the tolling of the bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells- Bells, bells, bells- To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. ~ Edgar Allan Pœ
Posted on: Wed, 08 Oct 2014 18:03:40 +0000
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