University of Virginia Library

From Edgar Allen Poe To Beverly Tucker December 1, 1835
Manuscript, University of Virginia

Mr. White was so kind as to read me some portions of your letter to
himself, dated Nov 29, and I feel compelled as much by gratitude for your many
friendly expressions of interest on my behalf, as by a desire to make some little ex-
planations, to answer, personally, the passages alluded to.

And firstly — in relation to your own verses, that they are not poetry I will
not allow, even when judging them by your own rules. A very cursory perusal
enabled me, when I first saw them, to point out many instances of the
you mention. Had I the lines before me now I would particularize them. But
is there not a more lofty species of originality than originality of individual thoughts
or individual passages? I doubt very much whether a composition may not
even be full of original things, and still be pure imitation as a whole. On the
other hand I have seen writings, devoid of any new thought, and frequently des-
-titute of any new expression — writings which I could not help considering as
full of creative power. But I have no wish to refine, and I dare say you
have little desire that I should do so. What is, or what is not, poetry must
not be told in a mere epistle. I sincerely think your lines excellent.

The distinction you make between levity, and wit or humour (that which pro-
-duces a smile) I perfectly understand, but that levity is unbecoming the chair
of the critic, must be taken, I think, cum grano salis. Moreover – are you sure Jeffrey
was never jocular or frivolous in his critical opinions? I think I can call to mind
some instances of the purest grotesque in his Reviews — downright horse-laughter.
Did you ever see a critique in Blackwood's Mag. upon an Epic Poem by a cockney
tailor? Its chief witticisms were aimed not at the poem but at the goose, and
bandy legs of the author, and the notice ended, after innumerable oddities in —
"ha! ha! ha! — he! he! he! — hi! hi! hi! — ho! ho! ho! — hu! hu! hu"!. Yet it was without excep-
-tion, the most annihilating, and most effective Review I remember to
have read. Of course I do not mean to palliate such indecency. The reviewer should
have been horse whipped. Still I cannot help thinking levity here was indispensible.
Indeed how otherwise the subject could have been treated I do not perceive. To treat
a tailor's Epic seriously, (and such an Epic too!) would have defeated the ends of
the critic, in weakening his own authority by making himself ridiculous.

Your opinion of "The M. S. Found in a Bottle" is just. The Tale was written some years
ago, and was among the first I ever wrote. I have met with no one, with the
exception of yourself & P.P. Cooke of Winchester, whose judgement concerning these Tales
I place any value upon. Generally, people praise extravagantly those of which I am
ashamed, and pass in silence what I fancy to be praise worthy. The last tale I
wrote was Morella and it was my best. When I write again I will write something
better than Morella. At present, having no time upon my hands, from my editorial
duties, I can write nothing worth reading. What articles I have published since Morella
were all written some time ago. I mention this to account for the "mere physique" of

the horrible which prevails in the "M.S. Found in a Bottle". I do not think I would be
guilty of a similar absurdity now. One or two words more of Egotism.

I do not entirely acquiesce in your strictures on the versification of my Drama.
I find that versificaiton is a point on which, very frequently, persons who agree in
all important particulars, differ very essentially. I do not remember to have
known any two persons agree, thoroughly, about metre. I have been puzzled to assign
a reason for this – but can find none more satisfactory than that music is a
most indefinite conception. I have made prosody, in all languages which I
have studied, a particular subject of inquiry. I have written many verses, and
read more than you would be inclined to imagine. In short – I especially pride
myself upon the accuracy of my ear – and have established the fact of its accu-
-racy to my own satisfaction at least, by some odd chromatic experiments. I
was therefore astonished to find you objecting to the melody of my lines. Had
I the time just now, and were I not afraid of tiring you, I would like to dis-
-cuss this point more fully. There is much room for speculation here. Your own
verses (I remarked this upon first reading them, to Mr White) are absolutely fault-
-less, if considered as "pure harmony" — I mean to speak technically — "without the in-
tervention of any discords". I was formerly accustomed to write thus, and it
would be an easy thing to convince you of the accuracy of my ear by writing such
at present — but imperceptibly the love of these discords grew upon me as my love
of music grew stronger, and I at length came to feel all the melody of Pope's later
versification, and much of the present J. Moore. I should like to hear from you
on this subject. The Dream was admitted solely thro' neccessity. I know not the author.

In speaking of my mother you have touched a string to which my heart
fully responds. To have known her is to be an object of great interest in my
eyes. I myself never knew her — and never knew the affection of a father. Both
died (as you may remember) within a few weeks of each other. I have many
occasional dealings with Adversity — but the want of parental affection has
been the heaviest of my trials.

I would be proud if you would honor me frequently with your cri-
-ticism. Believe me when I say that I value it. I would be gratified,
also, if you write me in reply to this letter. It will assure me that
you have excused my impertinence in addressing you without a previous
acquaintance.