11 Oct: "Richard Cory" by Edwin Arlington Robinson


Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.

And he was richyes, richer than a king
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

1 comment:

  1. I prefer the Simon & Garfunkel revision of the story, but still this poem tells a great story. Is it ironic? I think on the first reading it is, but the more I think about it and read it, it isn't very ironic to me.

    "We" the poem is in first person plural point of view. The reader and narrator both, "thought" or we think Cory has everything. But as Cory's suicide proves, he didn't have everything. Whatever it was he lacked, it was strong enough to end his life.

    This also reminds me of a Kid Rock song, money, fame, and all those traits we envy do not award happiness.

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