Book Look: The Trail of the Serpent, Mary Elizabeth Braddon

OMG - where has Mary Elizabeth Braddon been all my life? She was a contemporary of Dickens, the precursor of Wilkie Collins, and (the foreward argues) instrumental in establishing the detective fiction genre - so you'd think her works would be more widely available. Alas, no - female writers of "sensational fiction" weren't taken seriously back in the 19th century and didn't fare much better in the 20th century, so her works (excepting her "Lady Audley's Secret") gradually passed out of print. Thank you, Modern Library, for bringing back this gem!

"The Trail of the Serpent" has everything you could want in a "sensational novel" of the Victorian era: foundlings, wastrels, prodigal sons, identical twins separated at birth, bigamy, greed, love, hate, secret marriages, murder, madness, depravity, alchemy, secret societies, abject poverty, egregious wealth, a mute detective (how's that for "woke"?), and practically every other melodramatic trope you can imagine, all tied together by the machinations of a gloriously clever, deliciously evil villain determined to do whatever it takes to rise from obscurity to the heights of European society.

Which could be a hot mess in the hands of a schlock, but make no mistake about it - Braddon can write! She's intelligent, witty, and a gifted storyteller. Yes, her plot is sensational, but it's also stuffed with biting social commentary, delicious satire/irony, and laugh-out-loud comedic set-pieces.

Kirkus Review calls this "exuberantly campy" and it's hard to improve on this as a two-word summary. But Trail of the Serpent isn't just fun; it marks an important transition from the sensational, serialized novels of the day to the more serious literary writing of Dickens and his ilk. So go ahead and read it for the fun, then boast about reading it for the literary cred!

10 Awesomely Ambiguous Pulp Magazine Covers





"WTF, guys?"
How I feel when people interrupt me when I'm trying to read.



"Hey, sweetie, I think he just stuck a knife through your hand! Here, let me get a light ...
OMG, has your hand been that deformed the whole time?"



"I'll give you  a hand a second, darling - just as soon as I put this vase back where it belongs."

 



"This tie is constantly obstructing my aim! I hate this mobster dress code!"



"I SERIOUSLY need to reconsider posting my dating profile on MobThrob.com"



"Like any moderately competent female, you'll notice I've taken the time to
don high heels, do my hair, and color-coordinate my harness with my dress.
Honestly, I don't know why men always insist on making this look so hard."



"I could just go and get a bandaid for this little scratch on my head, but instead
I think I'll lie here and painstakingly spell out the name of my attacker in pearls."



"Apparently you missed my performance in the talent portion of the competition,
you asshole, because for me 'fighting crime' ain't just some words on a sash!"



"Okay, guys, I'm depending on you to hold off the anti-vax, flat earth, climate change denying wackos long enough for me to publish my validated scientific findings in a peer-reviewed journal!" 



"That's it - I'm never working at a VA hospital again!"

 

Book Look: Guy Deverell, by Sheridan LeFanu

Le Fanu is better known for his gothic novels, but much like his contemporary, Wilkie Collins, he also penned stories of suspense and mystery. Guy Deverell is an example of the latter genre. Though the tale does include some elements of gothic horror (a wicked Baronet, a mouldering old manor house, a purported ghost), the tale itself is grounded firmly in the familiar tropes of Victorian fiction: a beautiful and virginal young heiress, her handsome and noble suitor, a slick foreigner who is Up To No Good, a proud old estate, a gentile house party featuring the de rigueur list of Victorian party guests (a bishop, a clergyman, a military general, a self-important roué, intolerable in-laws, and various unmarried ladies accompanied by chaperones), lawsuits, subterfuges, and a disputed inheritance.

Yes, anyone paying attention to the clues Le Fanu liberally sprinkles along the way is going to figure out the "big reveal" long before it is formally revealed. Happily, however, the book offers so many other delights - among these, Le Fanu's lovely use of language and his satirical portrayal of Victorian society - that this doesn't necessarily detract from the fun. For fun this is, in its Victorian way, from the novel's unusually well-drawn cast of characters (especially Sir Jekyl Marlowe, the novel's protagonist, an unapologetic and entirely entertaining rogue)to the sinister and pleasingly preposterous plot involving a duel, a mysterious death, love, lust, revenge, and an ominous "Green Chamber" housing some sort of malignant secret.

In summary, if you're a fan of Collins, Dickens or Austen, I predict you'll find plenty here to enjoy; and if you're not, Guy Deverell works as an entirely satisfying introduction to the venerable Victorian mystery/suspense genre.

Book Look: The Chinatown Death Cloud Peril, by Paul Malmont

The premise of the novel is that a cast of pulp writers find themselves entangled in a pulp-like adventure of their own, complete with evil Chinamen, mysterious islands, superweapons, monsters, opium dens, golden gods, and flesh-oozing zombies. What results is a deliberate tangling of fact and "pulp", which is the author's stated intention.

What's real: most (but not all) of the info he includes on the writers, their lives, and the industry. His cast of characters reads like the "regulars" list of the coolest 1940s nightclub ever: Walter Gibson (author of The Shadow series), Lester Dent (author of the Doc Savage series), Howard Lovecraft, L. Ron Hubbard (the author is clearly enjoying foreshadowing his eventual career as bad sci fiction writer and scientology founder), Louis L'Amour (aka "Lew" here), Bob Heinlein (aka "Otis Driftwood" here), Cornell Woolrich, Robert Howard (author of the Conan series), Blackstone the Magician, Orson Welles, Al Capone and more. Loved learning more about their lives, their relationships, and the pulp industry.

Ironically, however, it's the "pulp" parts of this tale that disappoint! I begin to understand why pulp magazines have to be so preposterous: it's because their elements just don't hold up to being modernized/psychologized/philosophized. Evil Chinamen (albeit horrifically un-PC these days) are wholly satisfying villains ... until, it turns out, you endow them with sympathetic backstories and passivist souls. A superhero (the Shadow) who uses "the power of his mind" to elude notice seems perfectly credible ... until, that is, you start reimagining him as a sort of trickster god, preserving us from violence and fear by selflessly absorbing them into himself. And it's hard to go wrong with zombies ... except, come to find out, when you try to provide credible scientific explanations for their oozing flesh and blood-lust.

Happily, Malmont's a much better writer than his pulp writer protagonists. With just a few brushstrokes he creates scenes, characters, conversations that feel authentic. I also like how he incorporates narrative arcs with a light touch, rather than pounding us over the head with them - to appreciate just how deftly, make a point of rereading the first few chapters after you've done and appreciating how deftly he's wrapped everything up. However, the chapters devoted to the more "pulpy" parts of the story felt sometimes insufficiently set up, overly busy, and rushed.

Perhaps the ultimate irony is that by failing to convince me that pulp can "legitimized," Malmont has inspired in me more respect for the genre than I possessed before! What writers like Walter Gibson and Lester Dent did so effortlessly - making us believe that bravery, chivalry and humanity would always be enough to triumph over evil - turns out not to be so effortless after all.

Movies that Make Me Cry

Sometimes, after a really difficult week at work, there's nothing more cathartic than a good cry. Fortunately, crying isn't a problem for me. I'm so weak, a particularly sentimental Hallmark commercial has been known to reduce me to tears. (Most recently, it was the one that aired around Christmas, where the soldier opens a storybook sent to him by his daughter, and her recorded voice starts reading the story aloud. You can't tell me other people didn't cry at that one.)  Really, I should probably just quit work and invest in Kleenex stock.

But if commercials aren't enough to do the trick, I have the following list of go-to movies I know I can rely on to trigger a lovely, cleansing cry. How does my list compare to yours?

1. Going, Going ... Gone. Filmmakers know that the most reliable way to wrench a tear out of their viewers is to kill off a main character. God knows it always works on me.  For this reason, I tend to deliberately eschew such movies, which explains why I've never seen Love Story and Brian's Song.  But every once in a while I drop my guard or get taken by surprise, and the next thing you know I'm digging in my purse for tissues.  Million Dollar Baby, The Pride of the Yankees and Finding Neverland all had me discretely dabbing my eyes; but there was nothing discrete about the way I bawled like a baby when Ryan Hurst died in Remember the Titans, and don't even get me started on Titanic when Leonardo de Caprio passes.  Damn that plaintive Celtic soundtrack.
2. Going, Going ... But wait!  Then there are the movies that manipulate me into believing the main character is going to die off, only to spare their lives at last possible instant.  I still remember the first time I watched, horrified, as that little light in E.T.'s chest faded, then winked out.  And how hard I clapped for Tinkerbell the first time I saw Peter Pan. I start crying because I'm convinced they're going to die, then I just keep cying because I'm so relieved they're okay. Talk about doubling down.  
3. Mourning.  And then come the movies about the lovers that all those tragic deaths have left behind.  I'm particularly thinking of Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle, the scene when he's describing to the late-night radio host all the different ways his wife used to smile; and P.S. I Love You, every time Hilary Swank opens one of those letters that her wonderful (and gorgeous) husband left for her to find after his death. I'm crying because it's so damned beautiful and tragic at the same time.  
4. Death is Just the Beginning.  And just when I think it can't get any worse than pining over the death of loved ones, along come the movies where death is just the beginning: not only can't the surviving partner bear to live without their love, but the ghosts of their loved ones remain tied to earth by their devotion.  Always, starring Richard Dryfuss and Holly Hunter, gets me every time, as does Ghost and Madly/Truly/Deeply.  Nor can I resist weeping at movies where people who are already dead fall in love with the living.  (Talk about setting yourself up for disappointment.) The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, City of Angels, and Meet Joe Black all fall into this category.
5. Thwarted Love.  Movies where lovers are separated by circumstances beyond their control reliably reduce me to sniffles.  I didn't even like The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, but still shed tears over the debacle of lovers doomed to live out their lives in opposite directions. In West Side Story love is thwarted by hate, in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind it is thwarted by pain, and in the incomparable Casablanca is it thwarted by honor and politics: whatever the cause, though, thwarted love inevitably means Niagra Falls for me.
6. Unrequited Love. Ditto movies devoted to the misery of unrequited love.  How can Jenny keep turning her back on Forrest Gump when it's clear to everyone else in the world that they were meant to be together?  And how come not a single person in Legends of the Fall manages to fall in love with someone capable of loving them in return?  
7. Overcoming Obstacles.  I'm a sucker for movies where, by dint of enormous personal courage and dignity, people triumph over disabilities or injustice.  The scene where Tom Hanks as Forrest Gump asks Jenny if their child is "normal" breaks my heart, and even before Russell Crowe starts addressing the Nobel Prize ceremony in Beautiful Mind, I'm already a mess. And as for The Shawshank Redemption ... basically, I start crying from the moment Tim Robbins emerges from the drainpipe straight through to the last scene where he and Morgan Freeman reunite on that beach in Mexico. Yes, that's a lot of tissues.
8. Just When You Thought Their Lives Couldn't Get Any Worse.  Into this category I place all those movies that feature characters who endure grevious hardships and who, tragically, never make it happily ever after. The name Les Miserables should have given me a clue what to expect: even so, nothing really prepares one for the relentless tragedy of Eponine's story. The Birdman of Alcatraz is another movie that layers hardship and tragedy like a parfait of grief.  But I think the granddaddy of them all, for me, remains Slumdog Millionaire.  Even the (relatively) happy ending can't undo the damage that 2hrs of nearly unrelenting weeping inflicts upon my poor swollen eyes.
9. Nostalgia and Childhood.  Waxing sentimental over times gone by is another personal weakness.  I still can't watch Toy Story II or Toy Story III without wishing I could go back in time and thank Fuzzy Wuzzy, my loyal teddy bear, for all the times he stood by me.  (Could that song "When Somebody Loved Me" be any sadder?) And I once read (and completely believe) that 95% of men cry at the scene in Field of Dreams when Kevin Costner finally gets to play catch with his father ... so it's not just me.
10. When "Happily Ever After" Isn't an Option.  And then there are those movies where "happily ever after" isn't an option, because the filmmakers are confronting real-world cruelties and miseries like racism, hatred, cruelty, intolerance, and regret.  These are the movies I prepare for in advance by packing not just handkerchiefs, but also dark glasses so that I can hide my swollen eyes when the lights come up in the theater.  Schindler's List. Philadelphia. The Color Purple.  Sophie's Choice. Atonement. Saving Private Ryan. To Kill a Mockingbird.  And back when I was in elementary school, a short film called The Red Balloon that I'm not sure even exists anymore, but that was so tragic (the boy's magical red balloon is punctured by bullies hurling stones), it used to regularly reduce the entire 6th grade class to sniffling wrecks.
11. Honor & Nobility, Courage & Sacrifice. Another guaranteed tear-jerker for me is are plots that feature characters nobly sacrificing themselves for others.  That scene in Armageddon where Bruce Willis sacrifices himself to save the life of the man his daughter loves. The scene in Last of the Mohicans when Duncan sacrifices himself so that the woman he loves can find happiness in the arms of Daniel Day Lewis's Hawkeye. The scene in Gladiator when Russell Crowe kills the emporer, restoring Rome to democratic rule.  The finale of Dead Poet's Society, when the boys defy their schoolmaster and climb up onto their desks in order to pay tribute to their departing friend and mentor, Robin Williams. Yes, even that scene in the Star Trek movie (I forget which one) where Spock sacrifices his life to save the Enterprise. Not to mention pretty much every scene in The Green Mile. 
12. Oh, the Humanity! Sometimes it isn't the fate of the main characters that moves me, but the larger tragedy of the story being told.  Yes, I cried when Leonardo died in Titanic, but I'd already been going for a while by then, moved to horror and pity by the spectacle of so many deaths.  And the scene in Henry V when Kenneth Branaugh and the battered English survey the horrific aftermath of Agincourt always evokes a similar cathartic sob.
13. No More Dead Dogs!  I'm not sure why Hollywood can't make a nice movie about animals without killing them off in the end.  I only know that I'll never, ever forgive them for Old Yeller.  I cried so hard, it's a wonder they didn't have to cart me off to the hospital to be rehydrated. Since then I've deliberately boycotted movies featuring animals, and I understand from friends who saw Marley & Me that it's just as well I have 
14. Happy Endings.  Sometimes, however, filmmakers cut us a break, and the tears streaming down my face are triggered by joy rather than sorrow.  I typically lose it at the moment when the characters I've been rooting for all movie finally achieve their dream - when Hickory High School wins the regional championship in Hoosiers, for instance, or when August's parents find each other in August Rush; when Richard Dryfuss finally gets to hear his composition performed in Mr. Holland's Opus, or when Gene Krantz, playing NASA Flight Director Gene Krantz, surruptitiously wipes his eyes as Apollo 13 crashes safely into the sea; and, of course, when George Bailey realizes, every year at Christmas, that it really is A Wonderful Life.   

Book Look: The Monk, Matthew Lewis

Don't be scared off by the book's 18th century publication date: this story is great fun - as shocking and titillating as anything in modern lit. The Monk has it all: scandal, conspiracy, murder, villainy, hypocrisy, incest, rape, betrayal, ghosts, demons, corpses, and enough gruesome detail to rival an episode of CSI.

The story is set in Spain during the time of the Inquisition, and focuses on the corruption and eventual destruction of Ambrosio, "The Man of Holiness", a Capuchin monk whose outward piety conceals vanity and a lust for power, from which seeds grow spiraling tendrils of evil that eventually destroy him, with a little help from Old Smokey himself. (Lucifer actually makes a juicy cameo appearance at the end - don't miss it!).

Love how "meaty" the story is: within the main narrative, Lewis embeds digressions and side stories that add to the entertainment and general spookiness of the story. Caught up in the main narrative (in which the Brave Cavalier Lorenzo attempts to woo the Innocent Virgin Antonia; Noble Raymond attempts to rescue his True Love Agnes from the schemes of Villainous Family Members and an Evil Prioress; and the Mad Monk Ambrosio is gradually corrupted), you may be tempted to skip these parts, but don't! Elvira's sad history, the story of Lorenzo's brush with bloodthirsty bandits in the forests of Germany, and especially the tale of the Bleeding Nun and the Wandering Jew are fully as diverting as the main narrative.

Love, too, how the author incorporates all the stereotypical elements of gothic fiction - mad monks, wicked nuns, brave knights, naïve virgins, scheming family members, crypts, corpses, and sorcery - while still managing to create a story that feels fresh, literate, and well-crafted. Lewis may have picked a dubious genre, but there's nothing dubious about his plotting or prose. Indeed, Ambrosio's decline is presented in so gradual and logical a fashion, will shock you almost as much as it shocks him at the end to realize how far he's fallen, and how fast.

Finally, love how the book lays the foundation for so much literature that's come since. Reading along, you'll catch definite whiffs of Bronte, Poe, Hawthorn, Byron, Eco, and Perez-Reverte, among others. Were I a scholar, would love to research how this text provides a bridge between the old-style horror of medieval morality plays and modern lit.

Because, beneath the shock and titillation, this is at its core a morality play, in which evildoers are punished and virtue is rewarded. (Except for a few necessarily tragic consequences, because evil can't happen without victims, after all). A little spooky, a little melodramatic, a lot entertaining, and good triumphs over evil yet again ... what more do you want from a book?

Night Driving Playlist

This playlist is for when you're in one of those "moods" - dark, brooding, perhaps a little melancholy.  For those nights when - literally or metaphorically - you're driving down long, dark, barren roads with only your ghosts to keep you company and the borderlands between you and your dark side have shrunk to the width of a lane of darkly glistening highway.  A mood that can only be soothed by songs with dark, brooding lyrics about loss and dispair; horns solos that tear at your heart; and minor chords that jar your soul.

1. 16 Tons, Tennessee Ernie Ford
2. Adagio for Strings, Barber (any cover)
3. Always Something There to Remind Me, Naked Eyes
4. American Pie, Don McLean
5. Big John, Tennessee Ernie Ford
6. Big Man on Mulberry Street, Billy Joel
7. Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen
8. Brothers in Arms, Dire Straits
9. Cell Block Tango, Soundtrack from Chicago
10. Cold as Ice, Foreigner
11. Come Sail Away, Styx
12. Crazy, Gnarls Barkley
13. Crying Game, Boy George
14. The Damage is Done, Foreigner
15. Desert Rose, Sting
16. Don't Fear the Reaper, Blue Oyster Cult
17. Downbound Train, Bruce Springsteen
18. Dream On, Aerosmith
19. Don't Tell me 'Cause It Hurts, No Doubt
20. Folsom Prison Blues, Johnny Cash
21. Gangsta's Paradise, Coolio
22. Garden of Allah, Don Henley
23. Ghost Riders in the Sky, Outlaws
24. Ghosts, Dan Fogelberg
25. Goodnight Saigon, Billy Joel
26. Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi: O Fortuna, Orff (any cover)
27. Hallelujah, Jeff Buckly
28. Hazy Shade of Winter, Bangles
29. Hot Summer Nights, Night
30. Hotel California, Eagles
31. House of the Rising Sun, Credence Clearwater Revival
32. I'm a Fool to Want You, Carly Simon
33. I'm on Fire, Bruce Springsteen
34. In the Air Tonight, Phil Collins
35. In the Midnight Hour, Wilson Picket
36. Into the Night, B.B. King
37. Into the Night, Santana
38. I've Loved These Days, Billy Joel
39. Kashmir, Led Zeppplin
40. A Kiss From a Rose, Seal
41. Lies, Elton John
42. Live and Let Die, Paul McCartney
43. The Living Daylights, A-Ha
44. Logical Song, Supertramp
45. Lonely in Your Nightmare, Duran Duran
46. Mad World, Michael Andrews
47. Maddest Kind of Love, Big Bad Voodoo Daddies
48. Magic, Ghostbuster's Soundtrack
49. Mission Impossible Theme, U2
50. New Religion, Duran Duran
51. New York Minute, Don Henley
52. Night on Bald Mountain, Mussorgsky (any cover)
53. Nights in White Satin, Moody Blues
54. On the Dark Side, John Cafferty
55. One, Three Dog Night
56. One Night in Bangkok, Murray Head
57. Peter Gunn Theme, Blues Brothers
58. Piano Man, Billy Joel
59. Pressure, Billy Joel
60. Promentary, Soundtrack from Last of the Mohicans
61. Purple Rain, Prince
62. Relax, Frankie Goes to Hollywood
63. Requiem: Lacrimosa, Mozart (any cover)
64. Riders on the Storm, The Doors
65. Save a Prayer, Duran Duran
66. Secret, Maroon 5
67. Six Silver Strings, B.B. King
68. Sound of Silence, Simon & Garfunkel
69. Stairway to Heaven, Led Zepplin
70. The Stranger, Billy Joel
71. Streets of Philadelphia, Bruce Springsteen
72. Struggle, Nuttin' But Stringz
73. Summer in the City, Lovin' Spoonful
74. Sunglasses at Night, Corey Heart
75. Sunset Grill, Don Henley
76. Take On Me, A-Ha
77. Tainted Love, Soft Cell
78. They Won't Go When I Go, George Michael
79. The Thrill is Gone, B.B. King
80. Thunderball, Tom Jones
81. Too Low for Zero, Elton John
82. Too Much Sex, Not Enough Affection, Timbuk 3
83. Total Eclipse of the Heart, Bonnie Tyler
84. Town Without Pity, Brian Setzer
85. Trouble, Bitter:Sweet
86. Twilight Zone, ManhattanTransfer
87. Unfaithful, Rihanna
88. Uninvited, Alanis Morisette
89. Until The Night, Billy Joel
90. A View to a Kill, Duran Duran
91. Voices Carry, 'Til Tuesday
92. When Doves Cry, Prince
93. While the Night Is Still Young, Billy Joel
94. Who Wants to Live Forever, Queen (Seal also does a great cover of this)
95. Wicked Game, Chris Isaac
96. Winner Takes It All, ABBA
97. The World is Not Enough, Garbage
98. The Wreck of the Edmund Fitgerald, Gordon Lightfood
99. You Belong to the City, Glenn Fry
    
    

12 Famous Tragic/ Melodramatic Poems

The term melodrama refers to a dramatic work which exaggerates plot and characters in order to appeal to the emotions.  For this reason, melodramatic poetry tends to be especially beloved by teenagers and women in the throes of bad romantic relationships.  This is somewhat unfair, however, as most of the poems listed below are wholly satisfying as both stories and examples of verse.  Read them and see if you don't agree.

1. The Wreck of the Hesperus, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.  This thoroughly melodramatic narrative poem relates the story of a ship wrecked in a storm.  Alas, the skipper of the vessel is too proud to heed the warnings of the Crusty Old Sailor, who sagely advises him to "Put into yonder port/for I fear a hurricane."  Not only does the skipper laugh scornfully, but he decides to take his beautiful young daughter along as well.  (Hubris, anyone?)  Note to skipper: Everyone knows you ignore the advice of Crusty Old Sailors at your peril! 
2. The Highwayman, Alfred Noyes.  You have to appreciate the way-over-the-top pathos of this tale of a lass awaiting the return of her dashing lover who, alas, also happens to be a ruthless highwayman with a price on his head.  (Some women just can't resist the bad boys, can they?)  Every time I read the poem I keep hoping that she's going to shout "Hey, the soldiers are coming to get you!" (or words to that effect) rather than killing herself.  But she never does. 
3. Annabelle Lee, Edgar Allen Poe.  This deservedly famous poem is so romantic and tragic that has been known to reduce whole middle school classes to sniffling tears.  Supposedly a semi-autobiographic account of the untimely death of Poe's own young wife of tuberculosis, the story may draw you in, but it's the gorgeous language (that assonance! that consonance! that alliteration!) that will keep you reaching for the box of tissues.   
4. O Captain! My Captain!, Walt Whitman. Yes, it's that poem from the movie Dead Poet's Society.  More to the point, it's a tribute to Abraham Lincoln penned shortly after his assassination, and it works as an eloquently affecting paeon or homage to anyone who you have admired or looked up to. I dare you to read it aloud and not get at least a little teary. 
5. The Ballad of John Henry, author unknown.  Some say John Henry's a folktale, others argue that the legend stems from the feats of a real man, possibly a slave who worked laying down railroad track in the late 1800s.  Whatever the origin, the basic story is always the same, as is the outcome: John Henry challenges a steam drill to a contest, wins, but dies of exhaustion promptly afterwards, his life cut short by his superhuman effort.  One of a long, long lineage of literary ludditia (think Terminator I, II, III and/or IV) devoted to the contention that technology is soulless and evil. 
6. Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Samuel Taylor Coleridge. "Water, water, everywhere/Nor any drop to drink." Before it became a metaphor for pretty much everything, this was one of a great many affecting lines in this tale of ship doomed to slow death.  And in case you weren't paying attention earlier: always heed the advice of Crusty Old Sailors!
7. The Ballad of Reading Gaol, Oscar Wilde.  Oscar Wilde took as his inspiration for this long, georgeously tragic ode the true story of a man who was hanged for the murder of his wife.  Many, many dazzling stanzas, the most famous of which is surely Wilde's haunting lament, repeated several times: "Yet each man kills the thing he loves,/By each let this be heard,/Some do it with a bitter look,/Some with a flattering word,/The coward does it with a kiss,/The brave man with a sword."
8. Lady of Shalott, Alfred, Lord Tennyson. "Out flew the web and floated wide;/The mirror cracked from side to side;/'The curse has come upon me!' cried/The Lady of Shalott."  Making the eponymous Lady of Shallot neither the first nor the last maiden to be lured to her doom by the charms of that chivalric rogue, Sir Lancelot.  (Some men just can't keep it in their fauld, if you know what I mean ....)
9. Charge of the Light Brigade, Alfred Lord Tennyson. If you like your tragedy served up with a side of valor, you can't do better than this ode to the disastrous charge of British cavalry led by Lord Cardigan against Russian forces during the Battle of Balaclava on 25 October 1854 in the Crimean War: "Theirs not to make reply;/Theirs not reason why;/Theirs but to do or die:/Into the valley of Death."  (It's the "into the valley of Death" part that chokes me up every time.)
10. The Raven, Edgar Allen Poe.  On the other hand, if you like your tragedy served up with a side of creepy, Poe's The Raven is just the ticket, combining a dark and story night, the recent death of the narrator's true love, a perseverating raven, and a meter/rhyme scheme that would make a rap star swoon into one truly eerie tale.  Definitely don't read this one in the dark.
11. The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, Gordon Lightfoot.  Doesn't get much more tragic or melodramatic than this true tale of the sinking of the freighter Edmund Fitzgerald in Lake Superior.  By all means read the lyrics, but you'll want to listen to the song that goes with the lyrics to fully appreciate the gleefully unapologetic pathos of the tale.


12. Bonnie Barbara Allen, author unknown. And finally, the grand-daddy of them all, a ballad that for the past 300 years has reminded us to be careful what we say to the people we love, lest they are taken away from us before we have a chance to repent of the cruel things we say.  All the more tragic and melodramatic because it's true.