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Ulalume by Edgar Allan Poe (REVIEW)

Is it just me or does the title of this poem sound more like a tribe in Sub-Saharan Africa than the work of some hoity-toity East Coast intellectual with a fancy name and an even fancier moustache?

2 months ago

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A Critic's Meta Review: 4/5

Ulalume by Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849). Published by planksip

A Critic's Meta Review: 4/5

Is it just me or does the title of this poem sound more like a tribe in Sub-Saharan Africa than the work of some hoity-toity East Coast intellectual with a fancy name and an even fancier moustache? Because I cannot picture the name “Ulalume” being pronounced in any other way aside from “Ooh - lah - looh - may” which makes it hard to believe that our boy Ed Gnar All In Po’ (out a little liquor for the dead homies) was not rocking out to the elegant noodling of Ebo Taylor while typing this one up. I know I sure am.

Alas, this does not seem very likely, though, given that Ebo Taylor was born approximately four score and seven years after Edgar Allen Poe’s death. Nevertheless, this poem evokes some sort of African imagery in me, and I think it is really all just based on the name - nothing else explains it as effectively.

So what exactly is this thing about? Well, it is Edgar Allen Poe, so you know that it is about one of two things (probably both) - love and death. You know what? On second thought, maybe he was actually listening to some Ebo Taylor. I don’t think that any of us know enough about time travel to adequately dispute that this could have, at the very least, been a possibility.

They always did say Poe was way ahead of his time.

Anyhoo.

I think it is kind of cool that I am writing this review in the month of October, a month which is sort of a recurring motif throughout the poem. Obviously, fate had something to do with me deciding to review this particular piece of poetry on this particular night during this particular month. It is no coincidence - really, if you still believe in such silly things as “coincidences”, then there is very little I can do to help you.

Another recurring image in this poem is that of the “ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir”. Now, if you are pretty much anyone who isn’t me, you have seen Game Of Thrones and, thus, your brain instantly takes you to the oft-mentioned Weirwood tree (at least I am assuming it is a well-known part of the show based on what I have heard from fans of it - like I said, I have yet to watch it).

If you are me, however, your brain only takes you to one place when you hear the name Weir, and that’s right here.

You always rocked those short shorts, Bobby.

Ulalume by Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849). Published by planksip

Published 2 months ago