"Comic verse," writes editor John Gross, "is verse that is designed to amuse--and perhaps that is as far as any attempt at a definition ought to go." In The Oxford Book of Comic Verse , Gross has combed the annals of literature in English from the middle ages to the present, gathering poems that provoke laughter, smiles, and even reflections on the human condition--but always poems that amuse. From limericks to social satire, The Oxford Book of Comic Verse offers a remarkable collection of outstanding light poetry. Gross has brought together the finest writers in the history of the English language--from Chaucer and Skelton to Shakespeare and Swift, Lord Byron to Robert Browning, Emily Dickinson to John Updike--offering delightful examples of their comic verse. Many of these lines dance with whimsy, such as John Skelton's Colin Clout ("For though my rhyme be ragged,/ Tattered and jagged,/ Rudely rain-beaten,/ Rusty and moth-eaten,/ If ye take well therewith,/ It hath in it some pith"); others float heavier thoughts on light rhymes--as in Matthew Prior's succinct Human Life ("What trifling coil do we poor mortals keep;/ Wake, eat, and drink, evacuate and sleep."). The range of writers who have composed comic verse is astonishing, as is the delight of the poems themselves. Here we read T.S. Eliot mocking himself ("How unpleasant to meet Mr. Eliot!/ With his features of clerical cut"); poet and Soviet historian Robert Conquest, mingling his two professions in a limerick ("There was a great Marxist called Lenin/ Who did two or three million men in/ --That's a lot to have done in/ --But where he did one in/ That grand Marxist Stalin did ten in"); and Wendy Cope commenting on her disillusionment with poets ("I used to think all poets were Byronic./ They're mostly wicked as ginless tonic/ And wild as pension plans"). And along the way, we are treated to witty song lyrics as well, from First World War soldiers' tunes, to Irving Berlin, to Cole Porter, to Lorenz Hart ("When love congeals/It soon reveals/ the faint aroma of performing seals/The double-crossing of a pair of heels/I wish I were in love again!"). Whether it comes from anonymous popular culture or the icons of the literary canon, comic verse has been a source of pleasure and diversion through the ages--a combination of wit, verbal artistry, and even serious contemplation. This collection, compiled by one of our finest critics and anthologists, brings this tradition into the hands of today's readers, offering hours of delight.
John Gross was the editor of The Times Literary Supplement in London, a senior book editor and book critic on the staff of The New York Times in New York, and theatre critic for The Sunday Telegraph. He was also literary editor of The New Statesman and Spectator magazines.
It's only taken me 20 years to read this book, and it was probably never meant to be read straight through, but now I have and wish I hadn't. I should be forgiven for expecting to find this book even a little amusing, given the light tone of the jacket, the title with its goofy font and the back-jacket blurbs. And perhaps it's just that I'm an old crank and can't find humour when it's laid on a slab in front of me. But this is one painfully unfunny book. Having said that, John Gross clearly knows his verse, and this seems to be a pretty comprehensive overview of light (if not comic) verse since around the 14th century. Unfortunately, most of the older, more strictly poetic pieces are too referential to contemporary works or people, and the looser, less structured modern stuff is just embarrassing to witness. If you need a book of verse in a lighter vein, I suppose this would do nicely. If you're looking for something funny in rhyme, though, you'd probably do better to just write it yourself. This edition adds Notes and sources, Acknowledgements, Index of First Lines and Index of Authors sections in the back.
Not likely to have you rolling in the aisles, but an amazing banquet of amusing poetry. The good surprises include squibs by people we think of as always very serious, like Keats or not as poets, like Conan Doyle. Malcolm Lowry's epitaph for himself is here, not under the volcano. A generous helping of famous light-verse writers like Gilbert, Lear, Carroll (well, he's not so light but is funny), Ogden Nash. Burma-Shave road signs. Limericks a-plenty. Speaking of which, special note to Gavin Ewart's Semantic Limericks (in prose) about the young man of St. John's p 373. A terrific browse. My son David gave me this a few years ago.