Friday, September 12, 2008

Read if you dare ...

... The Most Dangerous Book of Poetry Ever Written. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

And here you can a look: The Book of Counted Sorrows. Koontz would appear to be a disciple of Poe.


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  3. Koontz (if, indeed, he did ink what the NYT calls "The Most Dangerous Book of Poetry Ever Written," BTW) is not the only disciple of Poe we know. BION, Marshall McLuhan was a devoted follower of his oeuvre, particularly the short story, "A Descent into the Maelstrom," upon which he based all his media theories. (And, he was right to do so.)

    p.s. I deleted the earlier comments because they were one-coffee thoughts, always dangerous in this neck of the world at this lovely quiet time of the morning of a glorious new day (since I was just looking at Ike's progress and I am deeply afeared for my friends from whom I have heard nada and I am counting my blessings and praying my prayings which also explains why I am up earlier than my normal 4:44 AM)

  4. Hrm. Something mysterious this way lurks. According to the NYT "Paper Cuts" blog entry on The Book of Counted Sorrows, it was published by Charnel House. (Hold that thought.)

    Now, upon doing some e-digging, it appears said tome was published by Random House in 2003 (since it was a device Mr. Koontz included in his work when he couldn't find an appropriate poetry quote to match his content in a given situation; so, natch, he created his own; thus, apparently, when he had enough such creations to fill a book, it came into existence):


    If you read the pair of comments on the NYT post from Serdar Yegulalp (which is most likely another nom de plume), you'll discover Charnel House was the imprint of Crad Kilodney, internationally famous hoaxter extraordinaire, a man who sold his "amazing" chapbooks (of which I have every one, almost) at the corners of Toronto's Yonge and Bloor Streets during the final decades of the twentieth century.

    Mr. Yegulalp speaks truthfully when he describes one of Mr. Kilodney's more notorious hoaxes (which resulted in a lawsuit, IIRC). When I read SY's comments, I left my own (which prolly won't appear); but, here is what I wrote:

    "I knew Crad very well, very well, indeedly; and, believe you me, it wouldn’t faze him to sign someone else’s name if it suited his purposes. It isn’t all that difficult to [allegedly or theoretically] fake a sig, after all. This really does sound like one of his schticks, though; and, that contest you mention, CBC’s Literary Competition, was then overseen by Robert Weaver, IIRC. It was a hoot of a hoax; and, IMO, some peeps (in high places brought low) are still picking pieces of egg off their collective faces. Interesting this shows up on the eve of a pair of elections with the National Post decrying the same CBC’s Heather Mallick’s down-and-dirty attack on Sarah Palin while wondering what the heck Canadian tax-payer dollars are doing supporting such over-the-top slop (to paraphrase). BTW, last I heard, Crad had returned to NY; but, that may just be MOTS (more of the same)."

    How well did I know him? Well, I was young and droolish, she said (with all due discretion). I would not be surprised if it turned out CK and DK either knew each other (or know each other in a very intimate or inseparable way). Crad was famous for his made-up monikers (and, Crad Kilodney was one such).

    Now, the only remaining question is, Will the real author of The Book of Counted Sorrows turn out to be the one we think it is or someone whom we wish it could've been? Mr. Koontz now lives in PA; and, if anyone does know him, it would be interesting to see if he granted the rights to these poems to the owner of the Charnel-House imprint.

    That would be a coup of a scoop, believe you me (because many dismissed CK outright while others ridiculed him endlessly). It may have taken decades; but, he can certainly claim the last guffaw, at the expense of the suits who regularly gave him the brutal boots, poor guy.

    G'night (and see you in a couple of weeks); but, I shall now listen to the finally downloaded "Katie" tomorrow, when all is again shiny and morning-glory bright. (But, Katie, so far, you sound lovely, exactly the way you write. Good on you and we, too. Thank you!)