A curious reader does not need the brilliant mind of C. Auguste Dupin to help crack the mystery known as Edgar Allan Poe. Despite what his macabre writings may insinuate, the evocative eighteenth century wordsmith never obsessed over ravens, hid bodies under floorboards, or devoured the corpses of hapless shipmates. Though such a revelation may appear comically obvious to the competent reader, the frequently controversial author and poet possesses a reputation that lingers dangerously close to his fictional narrators. While Poe’s grotesque psychopaths commit unspeakable acts of cruelty, the dapper American behind the quill underwent a life surprisingly reminiscent of many struggling authors in literary history. Alcoholic relapse and spousal demise are no walk in the “valley of the many-colored grass", but Poe’s hardships only graze the surface of the vile events exhibited in his fiction (468). Nevertheless, popular culture has painted a deceptive portrait of his life, finding unique and often impressive ways to immerse Poe as a character in his own stories.The authorial fallacy blurring the lines between scribe and written word will be investigated by way of Edgar Allan Poe’s most charming form of paraphernalia: a bobblehead.
Before exploring the treasure, it is essential to first gather information on the chest. A tall, thin cardboard container that presents a shape similar to boxed water traps an artificial man as if he were searching for a cask of amontillado. Each long, verbose side to the rectangular prism contains trivia and biography on the infamous author. The information is specific, elaborating on niche details such as Poe’s collegiate swimming records and his abandoned duel with John Moncure Daniel. The anecdotes are capped off with what appears to be Poe’s signature, an attempt at making the historic collectible more authentic. This sense of historical authenticity and intricate research only makes the details of the doll inside more questionable.
Constructed grimly at eight inches tall, a sculpted gentleman stands earnestly, furrowing his brow stressing his general solemnity. The figure’s enormous head waggles in swift, slight circles, drawing attention to every disquieting facial feature, from discernable dark bags subtly resting under his small, pale-blue eyes, to a thick, black mustache leaning crookedly to the left of his ivory white face. “Crooked” is key to describe the unusual figure, appropriately referred to in American popular culture as a “bobblehead.” Poe’s caricature of a statuette, that I will endearingly refer to as “Eddie,” sports a black bow tie and an equally dark coat, both awkwardly contorting in the same direction as his famous facial hair. With three separate accounts of “crookedness,” the diligent creators of Eddie’s physique are probably doing more than merely demonstrating that the author appeared disheveled. Perhaps these artists-- sculptors and hand-painters from the renowned Royal Bobbles company-- are meticulously crafting these fashion abnormalities as metaphors for the late author’s supposed mental and emotional “crookedness.” The Oxford English Dictionary defines “crooked” as “bent from the straight form; having (one or more) bends or angles; curved, bent, twisted, tortuous, wry” (“crooked 1”). While the literal definition properly describes Eddie’s attire, the figurative definition seems to match the typical description for many of Poe’s characters: “not straightforward; dishonest, wrong, perverse; perverted, out of order, awry” (“crooked 3”). Though such adjectives are appropriate for the cunning Montresor or several psychopathic unnamed narrators, representing their creator in similar physical manner is a misguided correlation.
When greeting the scale, Eddie stands above a number indicating that he possesses 7.8 ounces of polyresin. But apart from his convenient ability to be lifted with ease, there is little “light” to be found about him. In fact, a collector would be hard-pressed to discover more than a handful of features on Eddie’s stone-made person that are not the color black. His thick-yet-receding black hair, his intimidatingly lowered black eyebrow, his unnecessarily “crooked” black mustache, bow tie, and coat, his wrinkled black trousers, and his surprisingly polished black shoes are placed upon a circular, three inch, black platform that protects the figure from tumbling. In her article “Symbolic Meanings of Red and Black,”linguist Na Li describes the color black as a representation of “death and mourning” (Li 1313). Such tragic and gothic concepts are prevalent in Poe’s works, with grief-stricken characters coming to terms with the loss of a loved one. Poe’s short story Eleonora provides an example of this, with the narrator anticipating his wife’s premature demise, lamenting “she had seen that the finger of Death was upon her bosom-- that, like the ephemeron, she had been made perfect in loveliness only to die" (471). One could argue, however, the same words could be used to describe the author, who underwent the tragic experience of burying his wife in 1847. It should be noted, though, that the majority of Poe’s short stories and poems conveying death were published before Virginia Clemm Poe’s untimely passing. An analyst, critic, or bobblehead creator can connect Poe’s literature to his personal experiences all they want, whether it be his loss of parents or struggle with addiction, but by making such assumptions, they are proposing that the author’s ingenious works of literature are a product of a tortured mind rather than a creative one.
Finishing off the black color motif remain two miscellaneous items with alarming similarities. As Eddie’s right arm tightly grips a charcoal writing quill, he erects his stature dominantly over an indistinguishably colored medium-sized bird. When examining the assumed title character of Poe’s most famous literary work, it becomes noticeable that the quill and the creature pose eerily similar color and texture. The raven, slouching curiously over a pile of five novels-- a confusing addition given Poe’s history of only writing one-- has suffered implied animal cruelty from his “owner.” Much like the twisted events in “The Black Cat,” the unfortunate little animal has suffered the vicious process of plucking-- only instead of its eye, the poor raven’s feather has been brutally sacrificed for its owner’s craft. Though Poe was not reported to be an animal rights advocate, the only act of animal cruelty to his name was in literature. Thus, the bobblehead provides yet another example of Poe being portrayed as a character in his own creation. While Poe had Virginia Clemm and his parents to call “family,” little Eddie proudly belongs to the diverse clan at Royal Bobbles headquarters. Each eccentric relative produced by the prosperous novelty company captures the essence of their real-life counterparts. With entertainers, holiday characters, and politicians occupying only a few of the categories, the one element all bobbling figurines have in common are their creators’ enthusiasm for realism. The zealous marketing team behind the Royal family describes the glorified knicknacks as “lifelike figurines” with “exquisite detail,” and the finessed crevices dispersed throughout the hundreds of models factualize these claims. Despite the enormous heads springing over an otherwise carefully scaled body, nearly every bobble is true to life, resembling the celebrity rather than insinuating an idea of them. While this is mostly true for Eddie, the raven contradicts the otherwise authentic presentation.
Bobble Elvis does not wear blue suede shoes, miniature Hitchcock does not threaten consumers with a knife, Mark Twain’s stern figurine is certainly not afloat in the Mississippi river, and we do not discover a “Poor Richard” in the presence of a polyresin Benjamin Franklin. These historical figures-- in more than one respect of the word-- are respectfully treated to nearly photorealistic portrayals, drawing attention to the men behind the art rather than the men interacting with said art. What sets Poe apart from his peers is the very thing that makes him appealing to mass audiences: his misconstrued reputation as a madman. Generations of literary enthusiasts-- the definite target audience for a Poe bobblehead-- have lined up to obtain trifles of the author, perhaps in hopes to appear inherently gothic or strange. Maybe none of Poe’s works are as famous as the aforementioned celebrities embraced by Royal Bobble, and he certainly is not as well known as an individual. It is when you combine the art and the artist that Poe becomes an unstoppable force in popular culture, much to the fortune of our beloved little friend, Eddie. By: Skyler Lindquist