Ogden Nash

Ogden Nash

1902–1971 · lived 68 years US US

Ogden Nash was an American poet, best known for his unconventional, humorous verse. His poems often played with language, featuring irregular rhyme schemes and invented words. Nash's work provided lighthearted social commentary, tackling everyday life and common human foibles with wit and originality. His unique style made him a beloved figure in American literature, accessible to a wide audience.

n. 1902-08-19, Rye (Nova Iorque) · m. 1971-05-19, Baltimore

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Winter Complaint

Winter Complaint
Now when I have a cold
I am careful with my cold,
I consult a physician
And I do as I am told.
I muffle up my torso
In woolly woolly garb,
And I quaff great flagons
Of sodium bicarb.
I munch on aspirin,
I lunch on water,
And I wouldn’t dream of osculating
Anybody’s daughter,
And to anybody’s son
I wouldn’t say howdy,
For I am a sufferer
Magna cum laude.
I don’t like germs,
But I’ll keep the germs I’ve got.
Will I take a chance of spreading them?
Definitely not.
I sneeze out the window
And I cough up the flue,
And I live like a hermit
Till the germs get through.
And because I’m considerate,
Because I’m wary,
I am treated by my friends
Like Typhoid Mary.
Now when you have a cold
You are careless with your cold,
You are cocky as a gangster
Who has just been paroled.
You ignore your physician,
You eat steaks and oxtails,
You stuff yourself with starches,
You drink lots of cocktails,
And you claim that gargling
Is a time of waste,
And you won’t take soda
For you don’t like the taste,
And you prowl around parties
Full of selfish bliss,
And greet your hostess
With a genial kiss.
You convert yourself
Into a deadly missle,
You exhale Hello’s
Like a steamboat wistle.
You sneeze in the subway
And you cough at dances,
And let everybody else


Take their own good chances.
You’re a bronchial boor,
A bacterial blighter,
And you get more invitations
Than a gossip writer.
Yes, your throat is froggy,
And your eyes are swimmy,
And you hand is clammy,
And you nose is brimmy,
But you woo my girls
And their hearts you jimmy
While I sit here
With the cold you gimmy.
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Bio

Identification and basic context

Ogden Nash was an American poet, known for his distinctive, humorous verse. He was born Frederic Ogden Nash and often used his given name in his work. He was an American citizen and wrote exclusively in English. His life and work spanned much of the 20th century, a period of significant social and technological change in the United States.

Childhood and education

Nash was born into a well-established family in Rye, New York. His father was a successful businessman. He attended public schools and later went to St. George's School in Newport, Rhode Island. He briefly attended Harvard University but dropped out before graduating. Despite not completing a traditional degree, Nash was well-read and possessed a sharp intellect, which he applied to his literary endeavors.

Literary trajectory

Nash began his writing career in advertising and journalism. He worked for several publications, including *The New Yorker*, where his unique poetic style found a receptive audience. His first book of poetry, *Primrose Path*, was published in 1935, and was followed by numerous other collections throughout his career. His work was widely published in magazines and anthologized frequently, solidifying his reputation as a major humorist.

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Nash's major works include *The Primrose Path* (1935), *The Face Is Familiar* (1940), *I'm a Stranger Here Myself* (1938), and *Versus* (1949). His poems often dealt with themes of everyday life, social customs, animals, and the quirks of human behavior. Nash's style is characterized by its highly original, often deliberately awkward, rhyme schemes and meter. He frequently employed neologisms (invented words) and portmanteaus to achieve humorous effects and unexpected rhymes. His poetic voice is witty, observational, and gently satirical, often adopting a conversational tone. He was a master of wordplay, puns, and humorous juxtapositions. His innovations lay in his radical departure from traditional poetic forms for humorous effect, creating a unique niche in American poetry.

Cultural and historical context

Nash's work reflected the social and cultural landscape of mid-20th century America. His poems commented on the burgeoning consumer culture, changing social mores, and the anxieties and absurdities of modern life. He was associated with the generation of American humorists that included figures like Robert Benchley and Dorothy Parker, though his style was distinctly his own. His popularity soared during a time when mass media, particularly magazines, played a significant role in shaping public taste and humor.

Personal life

Nash was married to Frances Ridgeway Lane, and they had two daughters. He was known for his genial personality and his deep love for his family. His personal life, while not overtly documented in his poetry, provided the backdrop for his observations on domesticity and everyday relationships. He enjoyed gardening and had a fondness for animals, which often featured in his poems.

Recognition and reception

Ogden Nash was immensely popular during his lifetime and continues to be widely read. His work was celebrated for its originality and humor, earning him a significant following. While not typically considered in the same academic light as more 'serious' poets, his contributions to American humor and light verse are undeniable. He received honorary degrees from several universities, recognizing his literary achievements.

Influences and legacy

While Nash's style was highly individual, he drew inspiration from the tradition of English light verse and rhyme. His legacy lies in his unique contribution to American humor and poetry. He demonstrated that poetry could be accessible, entertaining, and insightful without sacrificing linguistic playfulness. He influenced subsequent generations of humor writers and poets who appreciated his linguistic inventiveness and his ability to find humor in the mundane.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Critics often analyze Nash's work for its cleverness, linguistic dexterity, and social commentary. His poems can be seen as lighthearted explorations of human nature, offering a humorous perspective on societal norms and individual behaviors. The apparent simplicity of his verse often masks a sophisticated understanding of language and a keen observational eye.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

Nash was known to be a meticulous craftsman of his poems, spending considerable time perfecting his rhymes and rhythms. Despite his humorous public persona, he was also a thoughtful individual. His distinctive handwriting, with its unique letter formations, was almost as recognizable as his poetry.

Death and memory

Ogden Nash passed away in 1971. His poems remain popular in children's literature and in collections of American humor. He is remembered as one of America's most original and beloved comic poets.

Poems

59

Reflections On Ice-Breaking

Reflections On Ice-Breaking
Candy
Is Dandy
But liquor
Is quicker.
276

Samson Agonistes

Samson Agonistes
I test my bath before I sit,
And I'm always moved to wonderment
That what chills the finger not a bit
Is so frigid upon the fundament.
196

Reflection On Babies

Reflection On Babies
A bit of talcum
Is always walcum.
252

Reflection On The Fallibility Of Nemesis

Reflection On The Fallibility Of Nemesis
He who is ridden by a conscience
Worries about a lot of nonscience;
He without benefit of scruples
His fun and income soon quadruples.
237

Pretty Halcyon Days

Pretty Halcyon Days
How pleasant to sit on the beach,
On the beach, on the sand, in the sun,
With ocean galore within reach,
And nothing at all to be done!
No letters to answer,
No bills to be burned,
No work to be shirked,
No cash to be earned,
It is pleasant to sit on the beach
With nothing at all to be done!
How pleasant to look at the ocean,
Democratic and damp; indiscriminate;
It fills me with noble emotion
To think I am able to swim in it.
To lave in the wave,
Majestic and chilly,
Tomorrow I crave;
But today it is silly.
It is pleasant to look at the ocean;
Tomorrow, perhaps, I shall swim in it.
How pleasant to gaze at the sailors
As their sailboats they manfully sail
With the vigor of vikings and whalers
In the days of the vikings and whale.
They sport on the brink
Of the shad and the shark;
If it’s windy, they sink;
If it isn’t, they park.
It is pleasant to gaze at the sailors,
To gaze without having to sail.
How pleasant the salt anesthetic
Of the air and the sand and the sun;
Leave the earth to the strong and athletic,
And the sea to adventure upon.
But the sun and the sand
No contractor can copy;
We lie in the land
Of the lotus and poppy;
We vegetate, calm and aesthetic,
On the beach, on the sand, in the sun.
209

Portrait of the Artist as a Prematurely Old Man

Portrait of the Artist as a Prematurely Old Man
It is common knowledge to every schoolboy and even every Bachelor of Arts,
That all sin is divided into two parts.
One kind of sin is called a sin of commission, and that is very important,
And it is what you are doing when you are doing something you ortant,
And the other kind of sin is just the opposite and is called a sin of omission
and is equally bad in the eyes of all right-thinking people, from
Billy Sunday to Buddha,
And it consists of not having done something you shuddha.
I might as well give you my opinion of these two kinds of sin as long as,
in a way, against each other we are pitting them,
And that is, don't bother your head about the sins of commission because
however sinful, they must at least be fun or else you wouldn't be
committing them.
It is the sin of omission, the second kind of sin,
That lays eggs under your skin.
The way you really get painfully bitten
Is by the insurance you haven't taken out and the checks you haven't added up
the stubs of and the appointments you haven't kept and the bills you
haven't paid and the letters you haven't written.
Also, about sins of omission there is one particularly painful lack of beauty,
Namely, it isn't as though it had been a riotous red-letter day or night every
time you neglected to do your duty;
You didn't get a wicked forbidden thrill
Every time you let a policy lapse or forget to pay a bill;
You didn't slap the lads in the tavern on the back and loudly cry Whee,
Let's all fail to write just one more letter before we go home, and this round
of unwritten letters is on me.
No, you never get any fun
Out of things you haven't done,
But they are the things that I do not like to be amid,
Because the suitable things you didn't do give you a lot more trouble than the
unsuitable things you did.
The moral is that it is probably better not to sin at all, but if some kind of
sin you must be pursuing,
Well, remember to do it by doing rather than by not doing.
227

One From One Leaves Two

One From One Leaves Two
Higgledy piggledy, my black hen,
She lays eggs for gentlemen.
Gentlemen come every day
To count what my black hen doth lay.
If perchance she lays too many,
They fine my hen a pretty penny;
If perchance she fails to lay,
The gentlemen a bonus pay.
Mumbledy pumbledy, my red cow,
She’s cooperating now.
At first she didn’t understand
That milk production must be planned;
She didn’t understand at first
She either had to plan or burst,
But now the government reports
She’s giving pints instead of quarts.
Fiddle de dee, my next-door neighbors,
They are giggling at their labors.
First they plant the tiny seed,
Then they water, then they weed,
Then they hoe and prune and lop,
They they raise a record crop,
Then they laugh their sides asunder,
And plow the whole caboodle under.
Abracadabra, thus we learn
The more you create, the less you earn.
The less you earn, the more you’re given,
The less you lead, the more you’re driven,
The more destroyed, the more they feed,
The more you pay, the more they need,
The more you earn, the less you keep,
And now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to take
If the tax-collector hasn’t got it before I wake.
262

Peekabo, I Almost See You

Peekabo, I Almost See You
Middle-aged life is merry, and I love to
lead it,
But there comes a day when your eyes
are all right but your arm isn't long
enough
to hold the telephone book where you can read it,
And your friends get jocular, so you go
to the oculist,
And of all your friends he is the joculist,
So over his facetiousness let us skim,
Only noting that he has been waiting for you ever since
you said Good evening to his grandfather clock under
the impression that it was him,
And you look at his chart and it says SHRDLU QWERTYOP,
and you say Well, why SHRDNTLU QWERTYOP? and he
says one set of glasses won't do.
You need two.
One for reading Erle Stanley Gardner's Perry Mason and
Keats's "Endymion" with,
And the other for walking around without saying Hello
to strange wymion with.
So you spend your time taking off your seeing glasses to put
on your reading glasses, and then remembering that your
reading glasses are upstairs or in the car,
And then you can't find your seeing glasses again because
without them on you can't see where they are.
Enough of such mishaps, they would try the patience of an
ox,
I prefer to forget both pairs of glasses and pass my declining
years saluting strange women and grandfather clocks.
254

No, You Be A Lone Eagle

No, You Be A Lone Eagle
I find it very hard to be fair-minded
About people who go around being air-minded.
I just can't see any fun
In soaring up up up into the sun
When the chances are still a fresh cool orchid to a paper geranium
That you'll unsoar down down down onto your (to you) invaluable
cranium.
I know the constant refrain
About how safer up in God's trafficless heaven than in an automobile
or a train
But ...
My God, have you ever taken a good look at a strut?
Then that one about how you're in Boston before you can say antidisestablishmentarianism
So that preferring to take five hours by rail is a pernicious example of
antiquarianism.
At least when I get on the Boston train I have a good chance of landing
in the South Station
And not in that part of the daily press which is reserved for victims of
aviation.
Then, despite the assurance that aeroplanes are terribly comfortable I
notice that when you are railroading or automobiling
You don't have to take a paper bag along just in case of a funny feeling.
It seems to me that no kind of depravity
Brings such speedy retribution as ignoring the law of gravity.
Therefore nobody could possibly indict me for perjury
When I swear that I wish the Wright brothers had gone in for silver
fox farming or tree surgery.
261

Old Dr. Valentine To His Son

Old Dr. Valentine To His Son
Your hopeless patients will live,
Your healthy patients will die.
I have only this word to give:
Wonder, and find out why
345

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