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By Root 648 0

nor did I ever publish a book without debating within myself whether to offer it to your notice. Nevertheless, the idea of introducing myself to you as an author, while unrecognized by the public, was not quite agreeable; and I saw too many faults in each of my books to be altogether willing to obtrude it beneath your eye. At last, I sent you ‘The Wonder Book,’ because, being meant for children, it seemed to reach a higher point, in its own way, than anything that I had written for grown people.

Pray, do not think it necessary to praise my “Blithedale Romance”—or even to acknowledge the receipt of it. From my own little experience, I can partly judge how dearly purchased are books that come to you on such terms. It affords me—and I ask no more—an opportunity of expressing the affectionate admiration which I have felt so long; a feeling, by the way, common to all our countrymen, in reference to Washington Irving, and which, I think, you can hardly appreciate, because there is no writer with the qualities to awaken in yourself precisely the same intellectual and heartfelt recognition.

Poetry

American poet Philip Freneau, in “To a New England Poet” (1823), derides Irving’s seeming subservience to Britain’s popular literary tastes: “Lo! he has kissed a Monarch’s—hand! / Before a prince I see him stand, / And with the glittering nobles mix, / Forgetting times of seventy-six.” But a host of American poets emerging in Irving’s wake thought him to be the most important literary figure among them. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was one such writer who in his works gave Irving his due. In addition to his prose volume Outre-Mer: A Pilgrimage Beyond the Sea (1833-1834), which is heavily influenced by Irving, Longfellow composed the poem “In the Churchyard at Tarrytown” in tribute to the author:

Here lies the gentle humorist, who died

In the bright Indian Summer of his fame!

A simple stone, with but a date and name,

Marks his secluded resting-place beside

The river that he loved and glorified.

Here in the autumn of his days he came,

But the dry leaves of life were all aflame

With tints that brightened and were multiplied.

How sweet a life was his; how sweet a death!

Living, to wing with mirth the weary hours,

Or with romantic tales the heart to cheer;

Dying, to leave a memory like the breath

Of summers full of sunshine and of showers,

A grief and gladness in the atmosphere.

Another poetic tribute to the writer of the The Sketch-Book came in the form of A Fable for Critics (1848), by James Russell Lowell. Lowell’s ten-part poem reads like a who’s who of American letters, including nods to Ralph Waldo Emerson, Poe, Longfellow, and Lowell himself. The stanza concerning Irving follows:

To a true poet-heart add the fun of Dick Steele,

Throw in all of Addison, minus the chill,

With the whole of that partnership’s stock and good will,

Mix well, and while stirring, hum o’er, as a spell,

The fine old English Gentleman, simmer it well,

Sweeten just to your own private liking, then strain

That only the finest and clearest remain,

Let it stand out of doors till a soul it receives

From the warm lazy sun loitering down through green leaves,

And you’ll find a choice nature, not wholly deserving

A name either English or Yankee,—just Irving.

Film

Today, encomiums to an author’s genius usually come in the form of film adaptations rather than verse. Washington Irving’s “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” has been the stuff of spine-tingling cinema for more than a century, with versions including a handful of shorts from the silent era; the beloved Disney cartoon of 1958, narrated and with songs sung by Bing Crosby; a humorous 1980 television adaptation starring Jeff Goldblum; and, perhaps the most faithful adaptation, a 1999 movie made for Canadian television. The most innovative of the lot is by auteur director Tim Burton. Known for his macabre humor, Burton lends his visionary genius to the Headless Horseman myth with 1999’s Sleepy Hollow. The film’s lush atmosphere is accented by poignant and memorable images: a horse carriage careening