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

Crossing The Border

Crossing The Border
Senescence begins
And middle age ends
The day your descendents
Outnumber your friends.
232

Come On In, The Senility Is Fine

Come On In, The Senility Is Fine
People live forever in Jacksonville and St. Petersburg and Tampa,
But you don't have to live forever to become a grampa.
The entrance requirements for grampahood are comparatively mild,
You only have to live until your child has a child.
From that point on you start looking both ways over your shoulder,
Because sometimes you feel thirty years younger and sometimes
thirty years older.
Now you begin to realize who it was that reached the height of
imbecility,
It was whoever said that grandparents have all the fun and none of
the responsibility.
This is the most enticing spiderwebs of a tarradiddle ever spun,
Because everybody would love to have a baby around who was no
responsibility and lots of fun,
But I can think of no one but a mooncalf or a gaby
Who would trust their own child to raise a baby.
So you have to personally superintend your grandchild from diapers
to pants and from bottle to spoon,
Because you know that your own child hasn't sense enough to come
in out of a typhoon.
You don't have to live forever to become a grampa, but if you do
want to live forever,
Don't try to be clever;
If you wish to reach the end of the trail with an uncut throat,
Don't go around saying Quote I don't mind being a grampa but I
hate being married to a gramma Unquote.
261

Biological Reflection

Biological Reflection
A girl whose cheeks are covered with paint
Has an advantage with me over one whose ain't.
207

Children's Party

Children's Party
May I join you in the doghouse, Rover?
I wish to retire till the party's over.
Since three o'clock I've done my best
To entertain each tiny guest. My conscience now I've left behind me,
And if they want me, let them find me.
I blew their bubbles, I sailed their boats,
I kept them from each other's throats. I told them tales of magic lands,
I took them out to wash their hands.
I sorted their rubbers and tied their laces,
I wiped their noses and dried their faces. Of similarities there's lots
Twixt tiny tots and Hottentots.
I've earned repose to heal the ravages
Of these angelic-looking savages. Oh, progeny playing by itself
Is a lonely little elf,
But progeny in roistering batches
Would drive St. francis from here to Natchez. Shunned are the games a parent
proposes,
They prefer to squirt each other with hoses,
Their playmates are their natural foemen
And they like to poke each other's abdomen. Their joy needs another woe's to cushion
it,
Say a puddle, and someone littler to push in it.
They observe with glee the ballistic results
Of ice cream with spoons for catapults, And inform the assembly with tears and glares
That everyone's presents are better than theirs.
Oh, little women and little men,
Someday I hope to love you again, But not till after the party's over,
So give me the key to the doghouse, Rover
301

Always Marry An April Girl

Always Marry An April Girl
Praise the spells and bless the charms,
I found April in my arms.
April golden, April cloudy,
Gracious, cruel, tender, rowdy;
April soft in flowered languor,
April cold with sudden anger,
Ever changing, ever true --
I love April, I love you.
305

A Word to Husbands

A Word to Husbands
To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you’re wrong, admit it;
Whenever you’re right, shut up.
194

A Lady Who Thinks She Is Thirty

A Lady Who Thinks She Is Thirty
Unwillingly Miranda wakes,
Feels the sun with terror,
One unwilling step she takes,
Shuddering to the mirror.
Miranda in Miranda's sight
Is old and gray and dirty;
Twenty-nine she was last night;
This morning she is thirty.
Shining like the morning star,
Like the twilight shining,
Haunted by a calendar,
Miranda is a-pining.
Silly girl, silver girl,
Draw the mirror toward you;
Time who makes the years to whirl
Adorned as he adored you.
Time is timelessness for you;
Calendars for the human;
What's a year, or thirty, to
Loveliness made woman?
Oh, Night will not see thirty again,
Yet soft her wing, Miranda;
Pick up your glass and tell me, then--
How old is Spring, Miranda?
264

A Caution To Everybody

A Caution To Everybody
Consider the auk;
Becoming extinct because he forgot how to fly, and could only walk.
Consider man, who may well become extinct
Because he forgot how to walk and learned how to fly before he thinked.
337

À Bas Ben Adhem

À Bas Ben Adhem
My fellow man I do not care for.
I often ask me, What's he there for?
The only answer I can find
Is, Reproduction of his kind.
If I'm supposed to swallow that,
Winnetka is my habitat.
Isn't it time to carve Hic Jacet
Above that Reproduction racket?
To make the matter more succint:
Suppose my fellow man extinct.
Why, who would not approve the plan
Save possibly my fellow man?
Yet with a politician's voice
He names himself as Nature's choice.
The finest of the human race
Are bad in figure, worse in face.
Yet just because they have two legs
And come from storks instead of eggs
They count the spacious firmament
As something to be charged and sent.
Though man created cross-town traffic,
The Daily Mirror, News and Graphic,
The pastoral fight and fighting pastor,
And Queen Marie and Lady Astor,
He hails himself with drum and fife
And bullies lower forms of life.
Not that I think much depends
On how we treat our feathered friends,
Or hold the wrinkled elephant
A nobler creature than my aunt.
It's simply that I'm sure I can
Get on without my fellow man.
288

Quotes

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