Nash, Ogden (Twentieth-Century Literary Criticism)
Ogden Nash 1902–-1971
(Full name Frediric Ogden Nash) American poet, playwright, and screenplay writer.
Nash attracted readers from all walks of life with his insightful, satirical view of human nature and human foibles in his verse. His biting wit was tempered by humor and sensitivity, enabling him to tread lightly over touchy subjects, including the behavior of other people's children, social affectations, and illness. His unique style is characterized by his willful disregard for grammatical and spelling rules, and his deliberate misspelling of words to force a rhyme. While the unconventional nature of his verse has denied him the status of a “serious” poet, Nash remains one of the most read and quoted poets of this century.
Born in Rye, New York, Nash was raised along the East Coast as his father's import-export business frequently moved the family from state to state. He attended St. George's School in Newport, Rhode Island, and Harvard University for one year, 1920-1921. Forced to drop out to earn his living, Nash tried his hand at several professions, including teaching and a brief, unsuccessful stint as a bond salesman. By 1925 he had settled into a career in advertising. It was while writing advertising copy that he found his poetic voice. His poem “Spring Comes to Murray Hill” was jotted down in a fit of procrastination and later sent to The New Yorker magazine, which published it in 1930. After his marriage in 1931, the new roles of husband and father influenced his poetry as his initial crustiness softened into musings over his two small daughters.
In 1936 Nash moved with his family to Hollywood where he wrote screenplays for MGM. During that time he produced The Shining Hair with Jane Murfin, The Feminine Touch with George Oppenheimer and Edmund L. Harman, as well as The Firefly. None of these met with much success, and a somewhat discouraged Nash returned to the East Coast in 1942. One good thing came out of his time in Hollywood, however, and that was his friendship with S. J. Perelman, with whom he collaborated on the book and lyrics for One Touch of Venus, a smash hit during Broadway's 1943 season. In the 1950s and 1960s, he began writing children's poetry in addition to his whimsical verses for adults. Another recurring topic in Nash's later years was mild complaints about sickness and aging, always with a comic bent. Indicative of his position in American poetry, Nash was a member of both the American Academy of Arts and Sciences and the National Institute of Arts and Letters. He died in 1971 in Baltimore, Maryland.
Nash published his first poem, “Spring Comes to Murray Hill,” in the New Yorker magazine in 1930. His first collections of poems, Hard Lines (1931) and Free Wheeling (1931), established his reputation as an original, witty, and whimsical creator of humorous verse with wonderful insight into human nature. In 1933 he wrote Happy Days, which introduced new themes of matrimony, household crises, and fatherhood. Throughout the 1930s and 1940s, Nash continued to produce collections in the same characteristic style that distinguished his verse, including The Primrose Path (1935), The Bad Parents' Garden of Verse (1936), I'm a Stranger Here Myself (1938), Good Intentions (1942), and Many Long Years Ago (1945). During the remainder of his career, Nash continued to write whimsical verse for adults, and began to write children's poetry as well, such as The Christmas That Almost Wasn't (1957), Custard the Dragon (1959), The Adventures of Isabel (1963), and The Mysterious Ouphe (1965).
Although Nash was largely ignored by most critics in his lifetime, he was well liked by the public. His ability to delight his readers through comical and entertaining verses often obscured the technical virtuosity required to produce them. He admitted to having “intentionally maltreated and man-handled every known rule of grammar, prosody, and spelling”; after his death, a New York Times obituary by Albin Krebs suggested that, despite this disregard for convention, Nash's verse reveals “a carefully thought-out metrical scheme and a kind of relentless logic.” Critics in more recent years have begun to reevaluate his reputation, noting that he demonstrated great flexibility and versatility of the English language in volume after volume. Moreover, his social and political satirical skills have earned him comparisons to the great eighteenth-century satirists Alexander Pope and Jonathan Swift.
Cricket of Carador [with Joseph Alger] (juvenilia) 1925
Born in a Beer Garden; or, She Troupes to Conquer [with Christopher Morley, Cleon Throckmorton, and others] (satire) 1930
Free Wheeling (poems) 1931
Hard Lines (poems) 1931
Happy Days (poems) 1933
Four Prominent So and So's [music by Robert Armbruster] (libretto) 1934
The Primrose Path (poems) 1935
The Bad Parents' Garden of Verse (poems) 1936
I'm a Stranger Here Myself (poems) 1938
The Face is Familiar: The Selected Verse of Ogden Nash (poems) 1940
Good Intentions (poems) 1942
One Touch of Venus [with S. J. Perelman] (libretto) 1943
Many Long Years Ago (poems) 1945
The Selected Verses of Ogden Nash (poems) 1946
Ogden Nash's Musical Zoo [music by Vernon Duke] (libretto) 1947
Versus (poems) 1949
Family Reunion (poems) 1950
Parents Keep Out: Elderly Poems for Youngerly Readers (juvenilia) 1951
The Private Dining Room, and Other New Verses (poems) 1953
The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus (juvenilia) 1957
The Christmas That Almost Wasn't (juvenilia) 1957
You Can't Get There from Here (poems) 1957
Custard the Dragon (juvenilia) 1959
Verses from 1929 On (poems) 1959
Beastly Poetry (juvenilia) 1960
A Boy Is a Boy; The Fun of Being a Boy (juvenilia) 1960
Scrooge Rides Again (juvenilia) 1960
Everyone but Thee and Me (poems) 1962
Girls Are Silly (juvenilia) 1962
The New Nutcracker Suite and Other Innocent Verses (juvenilia) 1962
The Adventures of Isabel (juvenilia) 1963
A Boy and His Room (juvenilia) 1963
Marriage Lines: Notes of a Student Husband (poems) 1964
An Ogden Nash Bonanza 5 vols. (poems) 1964
The Untold Adventures of Santa Claus (juvenilia) 1964
The Animal Garden (poems) 1965
The Mysterious Ouphe (juvenilia) 1965
The Cruise of the Aardvark (juvenilia) 1967
Santa Go Home: A Case History for Parents (juvenilia) 1967
Funniest Verses of Ogden Nash: Light Lyrics by One of America's Favorite Humorists (poems) 1968
The Scroobious Pip [with Edward Lear] (poems) 1968
There's Always Another Windmill (poems) 1968
Bed Riddance: A Posy for the Indisposed (poems) 1970
I Wouldn't Have Missed It: Selected Poems of Ogden Nash (poems) 1972
The Old Dog Barks Backwards (poems) 1972
Custard and Company (poems) 1980
A Penny Saved Is Impossible (poems) 1981
Ogden Nash's Zoo (poems) 1986
SOURCE: “To Keep Your Marriage Brimming,” in The Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 215, No. 1, January, 1965, p. 127.
[In the following review, the critic praises the “oddball rhymes and inveterate good humor” of Marriage Lines.]
The competition, the laughable habits, and the cooperation inherent in a marriage of whatever length supply the themes for the Marriage Lines, whose voice of experience, with its oddball rhymes and inveterate good humor, keeps diverting one from the expected with lines like
She goes walking in the Bois With elegant young men who are not moi.
The funniest, cleverest statement of the eternal differences is the poem “I Do, I Will, I Have.” The poet effects a neat surprise in venting his weary complaint at feminine delay in “I'm Sure She Said Six-Thirty,” and his love lyrics to the Over Insured and to husbands who are likely to get “drunk and disordelaise” on too much Cordon Bleu cooking are satire fresh and accurate. When one plays the game with Mr. Nash, one is supposed to close an eye and try to anticipate the preposterous rhyme that is coming up. But one can never miss or say so well his common sense:
To keep your marriage brimming, With love in the loving cup, Whenever you're wrong, admit it; Whenever you're right, shut up.
SOURCE: A review of The Untold Adventures of Santa Claus, in Times Literary Supplement, No. 3385 November 4, 1965, p. 989.
[In the following review, the critic offers a mixed assessment of The Untold Adventures of Santa Claus.]
Last year's Christmas gimmick in America seems nowadays to become this year's over here, and Mr. Nash's little festive offering [The Untold Adventures of Santa Claus] will no doubt provide a splendid alternative to the Christmas card—for the wealthier men of goodwill. “People think”, says Mr. Nash, that Santa Claus has “nothing to do but chuckle and smile and chirp to the reindeer once in a while.” They are wrong. Not only, according to a gnome or elf who called on Mr. Nash, did the old boy manoeuvre Washington's victory in 1776—appreciation rendered for that “sharp and shiny handy hatchet”—but he has to sort out an ailing reindeer and narrowly escape arrest as an imposter when standing in for one of his umpteen impersonators on a street corner. As may be seen, not all the transatlantic customs make riotous sense here, nor does Mr. Nash produce many of the cunning non-rhymes which have endeared him to all the squares. This is a tawdry bit of tinsel, eked out with jolly Ionicus drawings to reassure those who resent the whole commercial image of the season that any sort of cheer is better than the bare fir-tree, and that some semblance of sophistication can safely be offered to children of all ages.
SOURCE: A review of Santa Go Home: A Case History for Parents, in Library Journal, Vol. 92, No. 21, December 1, 1967, p. 4422.
[In the following review, Clayton offers a positive review of Santa Go Home.]
At last we know why Santa Claus is “That genial, / Jolly, / Generous donor / Of gifts of which he's not the owner”; “This fat, maladjusted gnome” suffers from “psychoses, / … traumas, / Tantrums, / and neuroses.” The cause of all his troubles is the fact that he was a middle child with “nothing he could call his own.” Indeed, Nicholas, as he was known in his Asia Minor home, “always ended in the middle—/ Not first, / Not second, / Not any...
(The entire section is 262 words.)
SOURCE: A review of The Cruise of the Aardvark, in The Washington Post Book World, December 24, 1967, p. 10.
[In the following mixed review, Merriam contends that “Nash is a champion wit and social commentator at the upper level, but he becomes condescending in his new narrative poem for the little ones.”]
Poetry is the Cinderella of the children's book field. Once she was a sooty scullery maid while proud stepsisters Science and Fiction held forth. Then along came Prince Federal-Funds-for-Language-Arts-Programs and lo! the maid turned into a modish princess. And so on to the ball, as books of verse now head publishers' lists and appear each new season in...
(The entire section is 280 words.)
SOURCE: A review of There's Always Another Windmill, in Publisher's Weekly, Vol. 194, No. 10, September 2, 1968, p. 56.
[In the following review, the anonymous reviewer provides a laudatory assessment of There's Always Another Windmill.]
Your true Nash-buff would have to go back and re-read every book of Nash-noshery ever published to see if they've got what the new one [There's Always Another Windmill] hasn't. The newest Nash always seems tops. He writes of a visit from a bigoted, loquacious lady who is best described as overflowing: “I escorted her to the door with Old World courtesy and a Gallic ‘Au'voir,’ And told myself to cheer up, it might...
(The entire section is 235 words.)
SOURCE: A review of The Old Dog Barks Backwards, in Kirkus Reviews, Vol. XL, No. 17, September 1, 1972, p. 1077.
[In the following brief review, the critic deems Nash “inimitable.”]
A posthumous collection of 77 verses published in magazines but not in books, and we trust there will be more such searches for more groupings from the pundit so civilly disobedient to the regimens of rhyme and meter. Most of these flip pensees [in The Old Dog Barks Backwards] have to do with fairly recent matters: the dieting maiden's “allegiance” to “chemical ingregiance”; fashion (“Mini midi maxi! / I'm off to Cotopaxi—/ TAXI!”); politics (“Spo-Radical...
(The entire section is 172 words.)
SOURCE: A review of Ave Ogden!: Nash in Latin, in Kirkus Reviews, Vol. XLI, No. 20, October 15, 1973, p. 1178.
[In the following review, the critic praises Nash's Ave Ogden!: Nash in Latin.]
Winnie Ille Pu was a runaway success, among the dwindling but noble band continuing Latin studies. Here [Ave Ogden!: Nash in Latin] is another sine qua non-sense success. The late, and very much lamented Nash, whose entertainments cut deeper with the years, moves unscathed—in fact accomplishes an extra scathing—in the ancient language of the martial arts, thanks to the deadpan skill of translators Gleeson and Meyer. Whosoever quotes “Candy / Is...
(The entire section is 156 words.)
SOURCE: A review of Ave Ogden!: Nash in Latin, in Library Journal, Vol. 98, December 1, 1973, p. 3564.
[In the following review, Lenardon calls Ave Ogden!: Nash in Latin exciting.]
Here [Ave Ogden!: Nash in Latin] is further proof that there must be something inherently amusing to a general audience in a modern Latin version. Is it because of repressed memories of the classroom and the smattering of Latin that remains? Whatever the reasons, I do think the Nash buff will be entertained; certainly the Latinist will admire the cleverness of these 52 renditions and will be able to use them with good effect upon students. The shorter poems generally...
(The entire section is 119 words.)
SOURCE: A review of I Wouldn't Have Missed It, in Kirkus Reviews, Vol. XLIII, No. 14, July 15, 1975, p. 828.
[In the following review, the critic provides a laudatory assessment of Nash's selected poems.]
Admirers of the works of the late Ogden Nash, assuming that the oeuvre was locked into the light-verse isolation ward and thereby immune from scholarly explications may be initially appalled by Archibald MacLeish's exegesis of: “I sit in my office at 224 Madison Avenue / And say to myself You have a responsible job, havenue?” This says MacLeish, who supplies the Introduction, is “… a portrait in the Cinquecento manner with a glimpse of the city...
(The entire section is 285 words.)
SOURCE: A review of I Wouldn't Have Missed It, in Publishers Weekly, Vol. 208, No. 1, July 7, 1975, p. 84.
[In the following positive review of Nash's selected poems, the critic maintains that “it seems true that Nash today looms larger than we'd thought.”]
[I wouldn't Have Missed It is a ] whopping gathering of some 400 of the late Ogden Nash's verses plucked shrewdly from 14 of his books including The Old Dog Barks Backwards (1972). The editors and MacLeish insist Nash wrote “poems.” From his earliest New Yorker pieces and his first collection, Hard Lines (1931), Nash built with accelerating confidence and skill his own...
(The entire section is 180 words.)
SOURCE: A review of I Wouldn't Have Missed It, in Choice, Vol. 12, No. 11, January, 1976, p. 144.
[In the following review, the critic asserts that Nash might be read as a satirist as well as a poet.]
In a splendid introduction to the poems [of I Wouldn't Have Missed It], Archibald MacLeish identifies expertly Nash's contribution to literature and his place among contemporaries. Both were significant for a writer who is often incorrectly called a “master of light verse.” Nash gave to poetry the invention of a new form and to the public the ability to view critically its subdued nature. The only suggestion of verse in Nash's lines is the rhyme. The...
(The entire section is 263 words.)
SOURCE: “The Essence of Nonsense,” in The Washington Post, Book World, Vol. X, No. 45, November 9, 1980, pp. 11, 16.
[In the following review, Ciardi offers a mixed review of Custard and Company.]
The gnomes of whimsy must have been at work to arrange for four superlative books of nonsense in a single season. The high-minded and the morally splendid are dismissed. The words and rhythms are rolling about on the floor and giggling under the bed where, like Morris Bishop's lurking preposition, they ask only:
What should I come Up from out of in under for?
(Linguaphile, a British word-lover's magazine, recently announced a...
(The entire section is 1166 words.)
SOURCE: A review of Custard and Company, in School Library Journal, Vol. 26, No. 10, August, 1980, p. 55.
[In the following review, Lewis contends that “the word-play, the manipulation of language, is marvelous to read.”]
There's certainly nothing new to say about Ogden Nash—like “A baby's talcum [he's] always walcum.” What is new is the partnership with Quentin Blake who not only has assembled this anthology of his favorites [Custard and Company] but illustrated them with drawings of typical frazzled hysteria that is altogether fitting. Many of the Nash-isms will be much too subtle for the youngest listeners, but both Custard tales are included...
(The entire section is 190 words.)
SOURCE: A review of A Penny Saved is Impossible, in Publishers Weekly, Vol. 220, No. 10, September 4, 1981, p. 52.
[In the following review, the critic maintains that “this book is a boon for everyone in these troubled times.”]
With 60 of the late versifier's gems of acuity, this book [A Penny Saved is Impossible] is a boon for everyone in these troubled times. Nobody but Nash could express so pungently such thoughts, not only on the impossibility of saving a penny but of finding the silver lining, putting up with the chicanery of politicos, bearing it when things go right for the wrong people and on other ills the flesh is heir to. Among the best of...
(The entire section is 191 words.)
SOURCE: “With the Best of Intentions,” in Times Literary Supplement, February 3, 1984, p. 118.
[In the following negative review, Disch notes the limited nature of Nash's verse, asserting that “measured against the general level of accomplishment in any standard anthology of humorous verse, Nash's limitations are glaringly evident.”]
For the forty years of Ogden Nash's career as America's foremost white-collar humorist, the popular success of his books of light verse expressed the consensus view of the reading public anent poetry: they, too, dislike it. Dislike, that is, the oracular assumptions that most poets make, their claims to a higher wisdom, a more...
(The entire section is 1257 words.)
SOURCE: “Humour, Mature and Childlike,” in The Language of Literature: English Grammar in Action, Macmillan, 1985, pp. 137-38.
[In the following essay, Cottle lauds Nash's humorous verse, contending that “he is genuinely observant of what is abidingly and harmlessly funny, he is not sick or bitter, he uses for uproarious ends the methods of poetry, the vision and vicissitudes of the poetic life.”]
It is likely that some of the brightest examples of linguistic resource will be found in humorous verse; but such verse is so often mainly facetious that it cannot stand by the classics, or the earnestly intended classics, that I have mostly used. This is where so...
(The entire section is 572 words.)
SOURCE: “Moral Incongruity and Humor: The ‘Good Bad’ Poetry of Ogden Nash,” in Studies in American Humor, Vol. 7, 1989, pp. 94-103.
[In the following essay, Crandell examines Nash's use of the “poet-fool” persona in his humorous verse.]
For some readers, the term “humorous poetry” is an oxymoron. “Poetry” denotes something serious, while “humorous,” by definition, means just the opposite. Equating “serious” with “good” and “humorous” with “bad,” the same individuals use “humorous” in a pejorative sense to distinguish writing that has some of the formal characteristics of poetry, rhyme and meter for example, but which lacks...
(The entire section is 4086 words.)
SOURCE: “Maturing Late or Simply Rotted Early?” in The Spectator, Vol. 273, September 24, 1994, pp. 36-7.
[In the following review of Nash's collected poems, Kermode deems Nash's short, humorous verses tedious yet amusing.]
I try to imitate him here, but he is probably quite inimitable. My own talent for this sort of thing being limited and his virtually illimitable.
So Anthony Burgess in his Nashian introduction to this rather large selection, first published in 1983 and now out in paperback. Burgess does pretty well, but is right to feel that he doesn't sound very like the real thing. As he points out, Nash, being American,...
(The entire section is 979 words.)