The Book of Humorous Verse — Edition Insights

The Compiler's Candid Confessions

Wells' introduction is a model of editorial humility. She contrasts her ambition—to include every reader's favorite humorous poem—with the reality of space constraints, settling for a 'compilation, not a collection.' She invokes the classical Scylla and Charybdis to describe the twin perils of popularity and canonicity, steering by 'good taste' alone. The result is a personal anthology, one that openly admits its biases. Wells even quotes Shakespeare on the listener's role in a jest's success, shifting responsibility to the reader. This transparency invites trust, as the compiler's voice remains present throughout, not hidden behind a facade of objectivity.

Parody as a Structural Principle

The excerpted section on 'The Purple Cow' reveals a key structural device: the anthology groups poems by theme or form, then presents variations. Here, Gelett Burgess's original quatrain is followed by parodies in the styles of Milton, Shelley, Wordsworth, Gray, Riley, Tennyson, Browning, Keats, Rossetti, Aldrich, Poe, and Longfellow. Each imitation mimics the poet's characteristic diction and meter—Shelley's 'Hail to thee, blithe spirit! Cow thou never wert' or Poe's raven-like 'Purple Cow' perching on a bust of Dante. This technique showcases both the parodist's skill and the range of English verse, turning a single joke into a lesson in literary voice.

Recurring Images: The Cow and the Limerick

Beyond the Purple Cow sequence, the anthology returns to certain images and forms. The limerick, exemplified by Edward Lear, appears as a recurring structure—short, rhythmic, and absurd. Wells includes multiple limericks, creating a pattern of compression and punch. The cow itself becomes a motif, appearing in various guises: 'brindle and brown' in Riley's parody, 'purplest ray serene' in Gray's. These repeated images tie the collection together, offering readers familiar touchstones amid the diversity of authors and styles. The cow, like the limerick, is a vessel for humor that transcends its literal subject.

Movement Between High and Low

Wells orchestrates a deliberate movement between registers. The anthology juxtaposes canonical poets (Milton, Shelley) with popular humorists (Burgess, Lear), and classical forms with nonsense. This juxtaposition is itself a source of humor: the solemnity of Milton's blank verse applied to a purple cow. The structure encourages readers to shift between expectations, finding comedy in the collision of high art and low subject. Wells' arrangement—by theme rather than chronology or author—emphasizes these contrasts, making the volume a curated experience rather than a dry reference. The reader moves from parody to limerick to satire, each transition a small surprise.

Wells' anthology rewards browsing rather than linear reading. The thematic groupings invite comparison across poems, and the parodies gain depth when read alongside their originals. Readers may find it useful to start with a familiar poem—say, a limerick by Lear—and then explore adjacent sections. The compiler's own voice, candid and self-deprecating, provides a steady guide through the shifting tones of English humorous verse.

That rainy afternoon, the 1907 Wells anthology felt like shelter, its playful parodies—even the Purple Cow squibs—turning cozy rather than clever. Yet one limerick about a restless heart lingered, and afterwards I found myself not searching, but simply opening Heart Utterances at Various Periods of a Chequered Life — Background and Themes, as if the rain had already chosen my next quiet companion.