Enough Rope

by Dorothy Parker

Poetry

Genres: Poetry, Classics, Fiction, Humor, Short Stories, 20th Century, American

110 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1926

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads data base.

Dorothy Parker was an American writer, poet and critic best known for her caustic wit, wisecracks, and sharp eye for 20th century urban foibles. From a conflicted and unhappy childhood, Parker rose to acclaim, both for her literary output in such venues as The New Yorker and as a founding member of the Algonquin Round Table. Following the breakup of the circle, Parker traveled to Hollywood to pursue screenwriting. Her successes there, including two Academy Award nominations, were curtailed as her involvement in left-wing politics led to a place on the Hollywood blacklist.
Dismissive of her own talents, she deplored her reputation as a "wisecracker." Nevertheless, her literary output and reputation for her sharp wit have endured.

Reviews

[Flo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Keep me from the old distress;
Let me, for our happiness,
Be the one to love the less.
– Dorothy Parker, "Somebody’s song"

It takes a certain kind of humour, singularity and incurable ennui to be able to enjoy this poetry collection written by a woman whose words possessed the power to create and destroy, and whose voice—oud at first, fragile by the end of each sentence, but always effective—was hidden inside a delicate body which could break at any moment. A woman who revolutionised the beginning of the 20th century with her quick mind, sardonic remarks, and peculiar heart, a heavy a heart it is / That hangs about my neck—a clumsy stone / Cut with a birth, a death, a bridal-day. I might be toying with your perception. If only you knew the rest of that poem.

A Well-Worn Story
In April, in April,
My one love came along,
And I ran the slope of my high hill
To follow a thread of song.

His eyes were hard as porphyry
With looking on cruel lands;
His voice went slipping over me
Like terrible silver hands.

Together we trod the secret lane
And walked the muttering town.
I wore my heart like a wet, red stain
On the breast of a velvet gown.

In April, in April,
My love went whistling by,
And I stumbled here to my high hill
Along the way of a lie.

Now what should I do in this place
But sit and count the chimes,
And splash cold water on my face
And spoil a page with rhymes?

I was aware of Dorothy Parker’s existence but this year, for some reason, I finally decided to become acquainted with her work. She is now part of my list of favorite authors. Enough rope, published in 1926, was her first poetry collection. Her verse speaks of love and its curses, unbearable absence, Death unable to fulfill its goal, the secondary role of a woman during those years and the fact that, despite all misadventures, another day awaits; another circle of joy and disappointment— you might as well live. I've read this volume and Sunset Gun aloud, relishing every word, the different meanings and fluent musicality. That's unusual for me.

The Small Hours
No more my little song comes back;
And now of nights I lay
My head on down, to watch the black
And wait the unfailing gray.

Oh, sad are winter nights, and slow;
And sad's a song that's dumb;
And sad it is to lie and know
Another dawn will come.

As I kept reading Parker's poems, I saw her memories behind almost each line. Her tragic life, replete with many useless men and brief sparks of love, or something similar mixed with diversion.
Never disillusion has been discussed so cleverly. One look at her "Ballade of a great weariness" and its sharp, recurring line (scratch a lover, and find a foe) would suffice. However, despite her caustic tongue, her penchant for drama and self-destruction or her apparent inability to learn from her mistakes, I also discovered a strong woman who hardly followed conventional rules, disliked the domestic life forced upon women and at times surpassed men in their own game. Moreover, I found a resilient person who was able to re-adapt, as well as she could though she couldn’t do much, to life after great loss—the kind of loss that transcends the sometimes mundane realm of relationships. There are colorful poems, yes, but there is great intimacy and depth behind some playful rhymes to know that there is always enough rope.

Finis
Now it's over, and now it's done;
Why does everything look the same?
Just as bright, the unheeding sun,—
Can't it see that the parting came?
People hurry and work and swear,
Laugh and grumble and die and wed,
Ponder what they will eat and wear,—
Don't they know that our love is dead?

Just as busy, the crowded street;
Cars and wagons go rolling on,
Children chuckle, and lovers meet,—
Don't they know that our love is gone?
No one pauses to pay a tear;
None walks slow, for the love that's through,—
I might mention, my recent dear,
I've reverted to normal, too.

Parker’s poetry is remarkably candid. She spoke freely of her failures and fears and her verse is the sum of all emotions. Poignant, witty, cynical, unapologetic—her Symptom Recital is self-explanatory. Never happy, nonetheless. She is part of a group of people that look at life through pessimistic eyes. Her epigrammatic style even helped coin a useful expression. Every time the phone rings, the doorbell sounds, and now, that an email notification arrives, they prepare for the worst. The unknown is out there, waiting to cause harm since that is all they ever knew. And the slightest change makes them wonder, as Parker usually did, “what fresh hell is this?” Poor fearless voices overcome by relentless fears they try to fool with a funny remark. They fool their surroundings. And everything is fine.




June 01, 19
* Later on my blog.
** I keep changing the rating from four to five stars, depending on my mood. Objectively speaking, it is a 4-star book.

[Tim Null · Rating 4 out of 5]

Godspeed
Oh, seek, my love, your newer way;
I'll not be left in sorrow.
So long as I have yesterday,
Go take your damned to-morrow!
-Dorothy Parker

When I purchased Enough Rope by Dorothy Parker I anticipated poems that were pithy and satirical. My initial scan of the poems left me feeling somewhat disappointed but upon closer inspection I found what I was looking for.

Poetry is a very personal thing and I know next to nothing about poetry but I find the discovery of a poem I love to be similar to the discovery of a song I love. (I hold tightly onto both.) I hold a small number of poems and songs close to my heart and I never let them go.

[Amy · Rating 5 out of 5]

2024 Review
Because of this collection I better understand why people memorize poetry. Some of these are so apt.

2019 Review
I feel like it is time we talk about the seriously misleading statement on the cover of this book: "A brilliant collection of witty verses guaranteed to dispel gloom."

Yes, because nothing dispels gloom like:

"Lilacs blossom just as sweet / Now that my heart is shattered."

Or:

"Death's the lover that I'd be taking; / Wild and fickle and fierce is he. / Small's his care if my heart be breaking-- / Gay young Death would have none of me."

Or my personal favorite, Résumé:

"Razors pain you; / Rivers are damp; / Acids stain you; / And drugs cause cramp. / Guns aren't lawful; / Nooses give; / Gas smells awful; / You might as well live."

So gloom dispelling.


2017 Review
I love this little volume...and I normally don't like poetry! Parker is cynical, depressed, and heart-sore yet so real. She is occasionally trite and sarcastic but rarely dull. Sad, yet beautiful, poetry.

[Ulysse · Rating 5 out of 5]

I may dwell in a beautiful house
With curtains for when it gets darker
I may shine when I’m totally soused
I can’t write like Dorothy Parker

I may one day turn forty-four
And life may appear to be starker
My heart may hold open a door
It can’t write like Dorothy Parker

I may navigate an uncharted sea
Leaving behind every marker
I may discover I am only me
And can’t write like Dorothy Parker

[Ebba Simone · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is Dorothy Parker's first book of verse published in 1926, when she was 34 or 35 years old. I assume that she was aged 35 because of the poem called "Ballade at Thirty-Five".

I read this with Steven and I told him early on that I felt that Dorothy was snarky. What I like most about Dorothy Parker's art is that she was able to capture a lot in a few verses. Very skillful. She is neither romantic nor hopeful, but there is some light to find in her snarky ways sometimes. She is disillusioned, "abgeklärt". ("Unfortunate Coincidence", "Prophetic Soul" and most of the other poems in this collection). Maybe she was already separated from her husband. She got divorced in 1928. I have noticed a few times the mention of "black eye" or "sock in the eye".

Most of her poems have a very modern timeless feel. And even a bit of Hip Hop because of the rhyme, rhythm and because most of her verses tend to close with a punchline ("The Thin Edge", "Faut de Mieux" for example) and/or with something else witty/snarky/surprising).

Poems that I like:

A Very Short Song
Epitaph
Anecdote
Symptom Recital
Unfortunate Coincidence
Prophetic Soul
The Thin Edge
Philosophy
News Item

I would like to share this poem with you:

"Symptom Recital

I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is a but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested,
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men.
I'm due to fall in love again."

I hope I will find a copy of her poetry collection "Sunset Gun".

Here are Steven's reviews:

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

Ebba

[Gerhard · Rating 4 out of 5]

Say the devil touched my tongue,
—Still you have my heart to wear.
But say my verses do not scan,
And I get me another man!

Review to follow.

[Mary-Lisa Russo · Rating 5 out of 5]

BOOK REVIEW ALERT!!! 📚📚📚📚📚

Enough Rope - A Book Of Light Verse

"By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering & sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying-
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying."

-Dorothy Parker

This is why I always gravitate to writers that have the power to reduce your mind to rubble. How to I pay hommage to this artist of words? How do I write a review that does her work justice?

Like the finest summer wine, the bewitching writing style of Dorothy Parker is incomparable, in my humble opinion. Her words are injected with a fiery passion that you know is born from the centre of her emotional core. Her writing is bold, teeming with experience, wit, bitterness and wonderment. My heart whistled, gasped in shock, skipped a few heartbeats then jumped out of my chest. I didn't know what to expect from her unbridled passion. And yet, her tsunami is carefully controlled. She never says too much. She never rambles. She gives you "enough rope" to think what you will, to feel her undercurrent of emotions like an ocean awakening from a thousand year old slumber.

If you have not discovered the works of Dorothy Parker, I urge you to take a moment to familiarize yourself with a writer who stands out from the rabble. Time did not diminish this perfect electricity. Few words creating a powerful impact. This is why I've learned to DNF books, refuse to write a review, or not even attempt to read what I can foreshadow to be an overly-executed mess. I am growing as a reader and reviewer- even though I am a writer, books like this will always, always have a strong place in my heart and I will champion them.

5/5

[Emily · Rating 4 out of 5]

One of my favorites:

INSCRIPTION FOR THE CEILING OF A BEDROOM
Daily dawns another day;
I must up, to make my way.
Though I dress and drink and eat,
Move my fingers and my feet,
Learn a little, here and there,
Weep and laugh and sweat and swear,
Hear a song, or watch a stage,
Leave some words upon a page,
Claim a foe, or hail a friend--
Bed awaits me at the end.

Though I go in pride and strength,
I'll come back to bed at length.
Though I walk in blinded woe,
Back to bed I'm bound to go.
High my heart, or bowed my head,
All my days but lead to bed.
Up, and out, and on; and then
Ever back to bed again,
Summer, Winter, Spring, and Fall--
I'm a fool to rise at all!

[Lesley · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a true gem written by a woman who was decades ahead of her time. A little treasure that has taken me through so many stages in my life. It has brought me joy, happiness, intense sadness, and wonderful memories. It was my companion in the late 60's given to me by my mother, who said Dorothy Parker was her inspiration growing up. She told me it would be a comfort to me during my time away from home. For me it was an escape, entertainment, and an encouragement while I was in college during those turbulent years of war, protesting, studying, acting, falling in love, and just being a student. I would often read Ms. Parker sitting under a tree, late at night, or just because I needed a good laugh. I often quoted her throughout my teaching career, and on the very last day of my mother's life, while she lay dying from cancer and could no longer speak, I read it to her. I picked up her beloved Dorothy Parker's poetry book "Enough Rope" and went page by page and read each poem aloud, so that she could hear them one last time. By then the book was well loved and dog eared. I'll never forget that my mother's eyes were closed while I read to her and then the color returned to her face and I saw her smile. Her shoulders moved every so slightly and I realized that she was softly laughing. She opened her tired blue eyes briefly and tears trickled down her face. But she was still smiling as I read her favorite poems. She lifted her arm and reached out for me and I held onto her frail hand as I sat by her bedside reading poem after poem. Eventually my mother fell asleep and I put the book down and left the room. My father told me to take a break and to go home to my family and so I did. I went out to dinner with my husband and younger son and by the time I drove up to my house, my older son was waiting outside pacing back and forth. He told me Grandma had just passed away. So my last moments together with my mother were reading "Enough Rope." They made my mother smile, and brought her peacefully to the next plane of her existence. And now every time I pick up a story or poem written by Dorothy Parker, I not only think about the woman who wrote her witty barbs, but I think of my mother who lived and died enjoying the wit and soul of a woman ahead of her time.

Update... My copy of " Enough Rope" was a paperback that my mother bought when she was a teen. For my 64th birthday, my sister found a 2nd edition hardback edition in an antique store and bought it for me. (Along with a few other precious antique gems from the author.)
So I now have a new copy... one I can read and enjoy so that my mother's treasured book can sit proudly next to it, filled with all the memories of the women in my family who were inspired by words and thoughts of the dynamic Ms. Parker.

[Jenna · Rating 4 out of 5]

The variety of meters used in these poems is really eye-openingly broad: here are poems that mix in anapests with iambs, dactyls with trochees, poems where trochaic lines alternate with iambic lines, stanzas where the line lengths vary between long and short in all manner of patterns and ratios, adding interest to the sounds in a profound and visceral way. Hardly any two poems sound alike. There's a lot here in this regard that any poet can learn from.

I confess that my mind sometimes revolts against reading "light verse" because it's been trained on modernism to crave lusher, pricklier, more pungently real imagery than light verse usually provides. But satisfyingly rich images do pepper Parker's poems, like:

Ways that flowered at Sappho's tread,
Winds that sighed in Homer's strings,
Vibrant with the singing dead,
Golden with the dust of wings...

I shall never walk; nor kneel
Where the bones of poets bloom. (from "Hearthside")

Or:

Days, like drops upon a pane,
Slip, and join, and go... (from "The New Love" -- what a wonderful, unassumingly perceptive, quietly accurate progression of verbs!)

Or:

I am sister to the rain;
Fey and sudden and unholy,
Petulant at the windowpane,
Quickly lost, remembered slowly...

Every fragile thing shall rust;
When another April passes
I may be a furry dust,
Sifting through the brittle grasses... (from "Rainy Night" -- what a surprisingly orthogonal trio of adjectives that is -- fey and sudden and unholy -- and what a deliciously complex chiasmus follows two lines after...)

At her best, Parker is rather like my beloved Edna St. Vincent Millay: the former's "We shall have our little day... // Would we need not know before / How shall end this prettiness... // Thus it is, and so it goes; / We shall have our day, my dear..." (1926) recalls the latter's "I shall forget you presently, my dear, / So make the most of this, your little day... // I would indeed that love were longer-lived, / And vows were not so brittle as they are, / But so it is, and nature has contrived / To struggle on without a break thus far..." (1920).

Formal grace, verbal felicity, leavened with unimpeachable intelligence, attentiveness to multiple dimensions of language, salty realism, and plenty of heart: an integrity vis-a-vis the writer-reader relationship that drives the poet to always be seeking out phrasings that ring at once fresh and true: I could see myself returning to this collection again and again.

[Theo Logos · Rating 3 out of 5]

April is poetry month (assuming that it hasn’t been canceled, fired, renamed or deported by mango Mussolini and his Looney Tunes regime) so in honor of that, I’m reading these poems of Dorothy Parker. The volume’s title — Enough Rope is an honest advertisement of its humorously cynical tone. Also as advertised, these poems are definitely light verse — mostly short and often singsongy, though their wispy substance contains a darker core.

All my life I’ve been aware of Dorothy Parker, familiar with her for her famous razor wit full of memorable bon mots (a few of which are within these poems). Yet this is the first time I’ve actually read her work. Her poems are more clever than brilliant, not the sort I’m likely to revisit and reread, but I’m happy to have read them. Below is a sample of my favorites:



Inventory
Four be the things I am wiser to know:
Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.

Four be the things I’d been better without:
Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt.

Three be the things I shall never attain:
Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.

Three be the things I shall have till I die?
Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye.


Resume
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp;
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.



Faut de Mieuw
Travel, trouble, music, art,
A kiss, a frock, a rhyme, —
I never said they feed my heart,
But still they pass the time.

[Adriana Scarpin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Estava fazendo 30 anos que a Jennifer Jason Leigh encarnou a Dorothy Parker no filme do Alan Rudolph e resolvi ler Enough Rope, livro de poemas escrito por Parker no período do Algonquin Round Table retratado no filme.
Publicado originalmente em 1926, tem tudo que a gente gosta na Dottie: humor, sagacidade e melancolia, me foi particularmente difícil escolher os poemas que mais gostei porque amei quase todos.
Acho que a minha geração millennial deveria redescobrir os poemas dela, acho que tem muito em comum com o nosso tipo de humor melancólico.

[Daniel Lomax · Rating 3 out of 5]

There's a poem by Dorothy Parker called Résumé. It goes like this:

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

I dislike this poem. It's callous and nursery-rhymish, and too shallow for the profound subject, and "you might as well live" is probably the least poetic thing ever. It's like a shopping list of smug quips.

In Parker’s defense, she was suicidal herself and this poem shouldn't be taken at face-value. Some of the excuses given are transparently ludicrous – "acids stain you" – so the final line is maybe reverse psychology, or just a mockery of those who live for living's sake. Still, this is the flippant and dismissive work of a "wisecracker", as per her reputation. A lot of the emotion in this volume does seem very sincere, but the author has inadequately mastered the art of sarcasm, and she has a tendency to lapse into writing the kind of platitudes you see circulating around Facebook.

With that in mind, I wrote a more literal antidote. I call it Résignée:

Lovers pain you;
Jobs are a bore;
Age will drain you;
And love will drain you more;
Money is fleeting;
Youth passes by;
Mistakes are self-repeating;
So you might as well die.

Take that, Dorothy.

[Tyler Bell · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5/5 Stars

[Arina · Rating 5 out of 5]

I started this poetry book at a rough time in my life and carried it with me throughout the months. I look back now at all the annotations I left and it’s so interesting to see how much I’ve grown since that time in my life. This book became kind of like a diary for me to keep track of my growth.

So many verses stood out to me and felt like they were written just for me… but here are some of my favorites in chronological order from the beginning of the book to the end… and coincidentally, in chronological order of my personal life events and growth from April till now :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No more my little song comes back;
And now of nights I lay
My head on down, to watch the black
And wait the unfailing gray.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then Sorrow came to stay,
And lay upon my breast;
He walked with me in the day,
And knew me best.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At my door’s another lad;
Here’s his flower in my hair.
If he sees me pale and sad,
Will he see me fair?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You do not know how heavy a heart it is
That hangs about my neck - a clumsy stone
Cut with a birth, a death, a bridal-day.
Each time I love, I find it still my own…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four be the things I am wiser to know:
Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.
…
Three be the things I shall have till I die:
Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Radiant and sure, you came a-flying;
Puzzled, you left on lagging feet.
Slow in my breast, my heart is dying.
(Nevertheless, a girl must eat.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little cook-book I should buy,
Your dishes I’d prepare;
And though they came out black and dry,
I know you wouldn’t care.
How valiantly I’d strive to learn,
Assured you’d not complain!
And if my finger I should burn,
You’d kiss away the pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My own dear love, he is strong and bold
And he cares not what comes after.
His words ring sweet as a chime of gold,
And his eyes are lit with laughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In youth, it was a way I had
To do my best to please,
And change, with every passing lad,
To suit his theories.

But now I know the things I know,
And do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If I should labor through daylight and dark,
Consecrate, valorous, serious, true,
Then on the world I may blazon my mark;
And what if I don’t, and what if I do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Bill · Rating 4 out of 5]

Enough Rope is the second book of poetry that I've read of Dorothy Parker. Whenever I read a book of poetry I usually have to qualify it by saying poetry and I don't generally work. Well, the poetry of Dorothy Parker I do get for the most part. At least in my poetry analyzing brain.

Dorothy Parker writes off beat, sarcastic, sly poetry. She starts off on a subject... let's see...

Verse for a Certain Dog
"Such glorious faith as fills your limpid eyes,
Dear little friend of mine, I never knew.
All - innocent are you, and yet all - wise..." (and then throws a curve)
"For heaven's sake, stop worrying that shoe"

See what I mean.

The majority of the poems in this collection deal with relationships, women, men... and even here, Dorothy keeps you on your toes...

Indian Summer
"In youth, it was way I had
To do my best to please,
And change, with every passing lad,
To suit his theories.

But now I know the things I know,
And do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you!"

It's a style that I enjoy. Lovely verse, flowing lines, then a punch in the gut. I have to say, Dorothy does like to kick a man a bit lower at times.

Men
"They hail you as their morning star
Because you are the way you are.
If you return the sentiment,
They'll try to make you different;
And once they have you, safe and sound,
They want to change you all around.
Your moods and ways they put a curse on;
They'd make of you another person.
They cannot let you go your gait;
They influence and educate.
They'd alter all that they admired.
(... wait for it)
They make me sick, they make me tired."

Ok, now you need to check out Dorothy Parker's poetry. Even though I'm now a shrunken shadow of my self after reading this book (I am a man after all), I highly recommend. (4.0 stars)

[Grace Burns · Rating 4 out of 5]

«Living for a hating, dying of love? »

« Last, go and curse your star, thus Love is, and thus you are. »

« I am sister to the rain ; »

«  And dry à pretty tear »

«  But what is dove, is done, and all’s to be. »

«  One of you is lying. »

«  Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song »

«  There little to learn but the things I know. »

«  The which is called philosophy. »

«  We’re as nature has made us »

« And once they have you, safe and sound, they want to change you all around. »

« Yet when was ever beauty held more rare than simple heart and maiden modesty? »

« Say I’m neither brave nor young, say I woo and coddle care, say the devil tout he’s my tongue- still you have my heart to wear. »

« In the presence of elders, she held her tongue- the way they did when the world was young. »

[elin | winterrainreads · Rating 4 out of 5]

〝lips that taste of tears, they say, are the best for kissing.〞

★★★★.5

known as the wittiest woman in america, dorothy parker was also one of the jazz age's most beloved poets. her verbal dexterity and cynical humor were on full display in the many poems she published in vanity fair, the new yorker etc and collected in her first book in 1926. the poems in enough rope range from lighthearted self-deprecation to acid-tongued satire, all the while gleefully puncturing sentimental clichés about the relations between men and women.

I've never really explored humorous poetry before this collection but now it's a strong contender for replacing romance novels as my "palette cleanse"-genre. not only is it fun, up beat and quick to read; it's also a very interesting juxtaposition to what I think most of us associate a hundred year old poetry collections with. don't get me wrong, I love collections with hard hitting themes but I also love that I can pick up a collection from a classic poet and the poems are about how annoying and stupid men are and the latest fashion trends.

if you want to start exploring poetry and it feels intimidating and inaccessible this is the perfect collection to start with. it tackles a lot of different themes from light to dark, it's fun, the rhythm is easy to get into and it doesn't take up too much brain power. it's literally the poetry equivalent of a fun romance novel with an important underlying lesson.

cawpile: 8.00
ig: @winterrainreads

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

Free download available at Project Gutenberg

I made the proofing of this book for Free Literature and Project Gutenberg will publish it.

CONTENTS
PART I
THRENODY
THE SMALL HOURS
THE FALSE FRIENDS
THE TRIFLEK
A VERY SHORT SONG
A WELL-WORN STORY
CONVALESCENT
THE DARK GIRL'S RHYME
EPITAPH
LIGHT OF LOVE
WAIL
THE SATIN DRESS
SOMEBODY'S SONG
ANECDOTE
BRAGGART
EPITAPH FOR A DARLING LADY
TO A MUCH TOO UNFORTUNATE LADY
PATHS
HEARTHSIDE
THE NEW LOVE
RAINY NIGHT
FOR A SAD LADY
RECURRENCE
STORY OF MRS. W--
THE DRAMATISTS
AUGUST
THE WHITE LADY
I KNOW I HAVE BEEN HAPPIEST
TESTAMENT
"I SHALL COME BACK"
CONDOLENCE
THE IMMORTALS
A PORTRAIT

PART II
PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST
CHANT FOR DARK HOURS
UNFORTUNATE COINCIDENCE
VERBE REPORTING LATE ARRIVAL AT A CONCLUSION
INVENTORY
NOW AT LIBERTY
COMMENT
PLEA
PATTERN
DE PROFUNDIS
THEY PART
BALLADE OF A GREAT WEARINESS
RÉSUMÉ
RENUNCIATION
DAY-DREAMS
THE VETERAN
PROPHETIC SOUL
VERSE FOR A CERTAIN DOG
FOLK TUNE
GODSPEED
SONG OF PERFECT PROPRIETY
SOCIAL NOTE
ONE PERFECT ROSE
BALLADE AT THIRTY-FIVE
THE THIN EDGE
SPRING SONG
LOVE SONG
INDIAN SUMMER
PHILOSOPHY
FOR AN UNKNOWN LADY
THE LEAL
FINIS
WORDS OF COMFORT TO BE SCRATCHED ON A MIRROR
MEN
NEWS ITEM
SONG OF ONE OF THE GIRLS
LULLABY
FAUT DE MIEUX
ROUNDEL
A CERTAIN LADY
OBSERVATION
SYMPTOM RECITAL
FIGHTING WORDS
RONDEAU REDOUBLÉ
AUTOBIOGRAPHY
TНE СНОICЕ
BALLADE OF BIG PLANS
GENERAL REVIEW OF THE SEX SITUATION
INSCRIPTION FOR THE CEILING OF A BEDROOM
PICTURES IN THE SMOKE
BIOGRAPHIES
NOCTURNE
INTERVIEW
SONG IN A MINOR KEY
EXPERIENCE
NEITHER BLOODY NOR BOWED
THE BURNED CHILD

[Steven Godin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oh, beggar or prince, no more, no more!
Be off and away with your strut and show.
The sweeter the apple, the blacker the core—
Scratch a lover, and find a foe!

[Brok3n · Rating 5 out of 5]

Neither Bloody Nor Bowed

The paperback Dover Thrift edition of Dorothy Parker's Enough Rope begins with a brief unsigned biographical note. I was surprised to learn that Parker dropped out of school at fourteen. Nevertheless, at 22 she was on the editorial board of the newly founded New Yorker. She published poems and stories in such magazines as The New Yorker, Life, and Vanity Fair. In her times these were the highest peaks of literary periodicals. Her poetry was published in three books: Enough Rope, Sunset Gun: Poems, and Death and Taxes.

The New York Times dismissed Enough Rope as "flapper verse". When I read that, I shouted in my head, "What the Hell is wrong with you? Can't you read?" But silent shouting at long-dead literary critics is like popping bubble wrap -- it soothes the soul, but accomplishes little of use.

If you know nothing else about Parker, you probably know that she's famous for being funny. The Times somewhat made up for the "flapper verse" remark by publishing a scintillating obituary, which you can find at the Dorothy Parker Society's web site. Indeed, some of the poems in Enough Rope made me laugh out loud.

What you need to know, though, is that although Parker could be funny, her comedy comes from a very dark place. Here, for instance is "Rainy Night"

Ghosts of all my lovely sins,
Who attend too well my pillow,
Gay the wanton rain begins;
Hide the limp and tearful willow,

Turn aside your eyes and ears,
Trail away your robes of sorrow.
You shall have my further years,—
You shall walk with me to-morrow.

I am sister to the rain;
Fey and sudden and unholy,
Petulant at the windowpane,
Quickly lost, remembered slowly

"Flapper verse", my ass! From the Times obituary

She had her own definition of humor, and it demanded lonely, perfectionist writing to make the truly funny seem casual and uncontrived.

“Humor to me, Heaven help me, takes in many things,” she said. “There must be courage; there must be no awe. There must be criticism, for humor, to my mind, is encapsulated in criticism. There must be a disciplined eye and wild mind. There must be a magnificent disregard for your reader, for if he cannot follow you, there is nothing you can do about it.”

She was One of the Greats!

Blog review.

[talia ♡ · Rating 4 out of 5]

if there is one person in history that i wish i could revive to go to the pub with, it's dorothy parker. however, i am also positive that she would spend the time reading me for filth!

dorothy parker is amazing because she can write a lovely, heartfelt, and aching verse like this:

If you should sail for Trebizond, or die,
Or cry another name in your first sleep,
Or see me board a train, and fail to sigh,
Appropriately, I’d clutch my breast and weep.
And you, if I should wander through the door,
Or sin, or seek a nunnery, or save
My lips and give my cheek, would tread the floor
And aptly mention poison and the grave.

Therefore the mooning world is gratified,
Quoting how prettily we sigh and swear;
And you and I, correctly side by side,
Shall live as lovers when our bones are bare;
And though we lie forever enemies,
Shall rank with Abélard and Héloïse.

and then write something like this immediately after:

By the time you swear you’re his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying—
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.

----------

if i am anything in this godforsaken world it's a dorothy parker mega-fan

[M · Rating 4 out of 5]

*Hearthside
*Chant for Dark Hours
*Verse Reporting Late Arrival at a Conclusion
*Inventory
*News Item


SONG OF ONE OF THE GIRLS

Here in my heart I am Helen;
I'm Aspasia and Hero, at least.
I'm Judith, and Jael, and Madame de Staël;
I'm Salomé, moon of the East.

Here in my soul I am Sappho;
Lady Hamilton am I, as well.
In me Récamier vies with Kitty O'Shea,
With Dido, and Eve, and poor Nell.

I'm of the glamorous ladies
At whose beckoning history shook.
But you are a man, and see only my pan,
So I stay at home with a book.

[kristopher · Rating 4 out of 5]

Been dealing with brain-fog recently, and this helped immensely. Baldwin has a quote about how liberating it is to discover that somebody 100 years ago was struggling with the same things you are, and that this is why art (and life!) is important. Like……. true …………

[Sassy Sarah Reads · Rating 2 out of 5]

2 stars

I read a terrible poetry collection this year and they compared her to Dorothy Parker. I hadn't read any of her poems. I don't see the comparison. While I don't enjoy Parker's poetry because it tends to be overly simple and the rhyme scheme is cheesy. I don't hate this collection and there were times when I liked the melancholy that Parker can bring to the table, but poems about men, falling in love, and needing a man, etc. etc.. became grating very quickly. It was definitely giving 1920's poetry and that's not a bad thing, but I don't love that time period of poetry.

[K. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved it! Just what I needed at the moment. Sometimes humor is the only way to cope with the toxic patriarchy. No one does this better than Dorothy Parker. Highly recommend if you want poems that are thought provoking as well as entertaining. A reading essential for anyone interested in comical cynicism. A true classic.

5/5 stars

[Marsinay]

When she was good, she was VERY very good...

[Sarah Ginsberg · Rating 4 out of 5]

Crazy to think that these poems were written in the 1920s and they are still so relevant.

[Kimee · Rating 4 out of 5]

Delightful. The edition I have from 1944 isn't on Goodreads but it's the prettiest book I own and I bought it for $12 at Dog Eared books and I love it.

[Autumn · Rating 5 out of 5]

i’ve never had so much FUN reading poetry… Miss Parker doesn’t believe in men or love & i love that