Richard Cory

 
Notes on Poetry:

Richard Cory

Contents:

Author Biography
Poem Text
Poem Summary
Themes
Style
Historical Context
Critical Overview
Criticism
Sources
For Further Study


E. A. Robinson 1897

First published in E. A. Robinson’s second book of poems, Children of the Night, “Richard Cory” is one of the short, lyrical and dramatic character sketches that Robinson is now best known for, although during his life he was most famous for the long poems he wrote later in his career. Robinson created an imaginary place called “Tilbury Town,” which he peopled with various failed and frustrated people. Richard Cory is one of those people. The poem may be read as an ironic commentary on the American dream of wealth, success, and power. The very embodiment of that materialistic dream, Cory kills himself for some unspecified reason, perhaps a spiritual emptiness or alienation from his fellow human beings. His death leaves the people who wanted to be like him wondering about the purpose of life. The speaker, a representative of the working-class people who admire and envy Cory, thought of the man in medieval terms as a king. Robinson seems to question the values of both Cory and the speaker, as well as that of the American dream.

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Wikipedia: Richard Cory (poem)

Richard Cory is a narrative poem written by Edwin Arlington Robinson, describing a fictional character who is wealthy but ultimately commits suicide for unknown reasons. The poem was adapted by Simon and Garfunkel for their song, "Richard Cory"; the song was also recorded by Van Morrison, Wings, Them, The Back Porch Majority and Yami Bolo.

Text

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 rich—yes, 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.

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