The Poe Show

Poem: Christmas Trees

Tynan Portillo Season 2 Episode 55

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Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone this season! Today, in honor of the spirit of Christmas, the compassion for and connection to our fellow human beings, let’s dive into a circular letter by Robert Frost. This letter expresses Frost’s disdain for the overt commercialization of the world, buying up any and all beautiful things to sell them off for a profit. The antagonist of this poem is one who sees no wrong in taking what’s not his, offering little compensation, then stealing away to make a profit on his scheme. Its poignant message rings especially loud this year…

I decided to keep the music for this episode relatively simple: just one piano plucking away at a sparse melody. I drew upon the tunes I remember loving as a child, like the soundtracks to The Polar Express and Elf. I hope it brings you the same feeling of warmth that helps in this winter cold as it did me.

This podcast is perfect for educators, teachers, students and schools/colleges looking to educate themselves and others on the works of Edgar Allan Poe, Victorian era writing, old ghost stories and classic horror fiction. Also great for fans of horror, Lovecraftian lore, Gothic fiction, poetry, short horror fiction, and timeless classic scary stories.

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Intro music by Emmett Cooke on PremiumBeat.

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Tynan Portillo presents, featuring the works of Edgar Allan Poe and the best horror stories from the 19th century. Welcome to The Poe Show podcast. Music and narration by Tynan Portillo. Please see trigger warnings in this episode description.

Today’s episode, Christmas Trees, a Christmas circular letter by Robert Frost.

The city had withdrawn into itself  

And left at last the country to the country;  

When between whirls of snow not come to lie  

And whirls of foliage not yet laid, there drove  

A stranger to our yard, who looked the city,   

Yet did in country fashion in that there  

He sat and waited till he drew us out,  

A-buttoning coats, to ask him who he was.  

He proved to be the city come again  

To look for something it had left behind   

And could not do without and keep its Christmas.  

He asked if I would sell my Christmas trees;  

My woods—the young fir balsams like a place  

Where houses all are churches and have spires.  

I hadn't thought of them as Christmas trees.    

I doubt if I was tempted for a moment  

To sell them off their feet to go in cars  

And leave the slope behind the house all bare,  

Where the sun shines now no warmer than the moon.  

I'd hate to have them know it if I was.      

Yet more I'd hate to hold my trees, except  

As others hold theirs or refuse for them,  

Beyond the time of profitable growth—  

The trial by market everything must come to.  

I dallied so much with the thought of selling.      

Then whether from mistaken courtesy  

And fear of seeming short of speech, or whether  

From hope of hearing good of what was mine,  

I said, "There aren't enough to be worth while."

  

"I could soon tell how many they would cut,     

You let me look them over."  

 

                                    "You could look.  

But don't expect I'm going to let you have them."  

Pasture they spring in, some in clumps too close  

That lop each other of boughs, but not a few     

Quite solitary and having equal boughs  

All round and round. The latter he nodded "Yes" to,  

Or paused to say beneath some lovelier one,  

With a buyer's moderation, "That would do."  

I thought so too, but wasn't there to say so.   

We climbed the pasture on the south, crossed over,  

And came down on the north. 

 

                                    He said, "A thousand."  

  

"A thousand Christmas trees!—at what apiece?"  

  

He felt some need of softening that to me:       

"A thousand trees would come to thirty dollars."  

  

Then I was certain I had never meant  

To let him have them. Never show surprise!  

But thirty dollars seemed so small beside  

The extent of pasture I should strip, three cents    

(For that was all they figured out apiece)—   

Three cents so small beside the dollar friends  

I should be writing to within the hour  

Would pay in cities for good trees like those,  

Regular vestry-trees whole Sunday Schools     

Could hang enough on to pick off enough.

  

A thousand Christmas trees I didn't know I had!  

Worth three cents more to give away than sell,  

As may be shown by a simple calculation.  

Too bad I couldn't lay one in a letter.       

I can't help wishing I could send you one,  

In wishing you herewith a Merry Christmas.



Be sure to give this podcast a good rating and subscribe for more on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and YouTube where I do reviews of Edgar Allan Poe film adaptations - and leave a comment for a classic horror story you’d like to hear on the show. It could be an Edgar Allan Poe poem or a Victorian ghost story, or if you’re an author who’d like to feature your own story on the show, then email me at poeshowpod@gmail.com with your story and details. And if you’re in need of a narrator, voice actor or singer, I’ve got over 18 years of experience in this field and would love to work with you.

Happy Holidays! I hope you’re all having a wonderful December and a very merry Christmas.

I never knew that Robert Frost wrote a poem about Christmas trees before, but in researching for a poem to share for this holiday season, I came across this poem. But this poem is about much more than Christmas trees.

You can hear a bit of disdain in Frost’s writing as he describes interacting with the man from the city: he says the man sat and waited till he drew us out, making the city man sound like a predator luring out prey. He proved to be the city come again, to look for something it had left behind and could not do without. That’s a great phrase, because it inspires the question, “If the city couldn’t do without these trees, why did they leave them behind in the first place?”

This poem reminds me of something I heard Jason Pargin, the author of I’m Beginning to Worry About This Black Box of Doom and John Dies at the End, talk about on TikTok. He made a really good point that when most people say they want to get away from it all, just go live in the woods and abandon modern society for a bit - they don’t mean it literally. What most people mean is they want to abandon all their responsibilities for a while, but still live in luxury. They still want wifi and air conditioning and internet and electricity and most people who have this desire don’t even know the insane amount of work it takes to actually live in nature. It’s not a vacation. You’re awake before the crack of dawn to take care of animals, wash clothes, repair the roof of your cabin, tend to the garden, build a new fence - it’s not easy work! And I think that’s what this poem is getting at as well.

Some people like to adopt the aesthetic of living in nature because they think taking a walk in the park is the same thing. It’s not. The city man thinks he can take these trees away from nature and they’ll have the same or more value in becoming Christmas trees (a commercialized product made to make money). But he fails to see that they have the most value right where they are - undisturbed and allowed to be homes and churches for the untamed wonders of nature.

We as a race of human beings have been battling nature since before recorded time: we bend Nature to our will and tear it down and shove it out and hunt it to extinction, and then we act like we don’t know why people are so depressed at the gray buildings and over commercialized stores and thousands of cars that replace it. Or the millions of messages that say, “You have a problem in your life. The problem is you don’t have this product that will make you more fit, prettier, it’ll make you look like you’re wealthier - that is the overcommercialized sensation of modern society.

Of course, modern society allows us many comforts without having to work for them. You don’t have to do 98% of the work that goes into making a burger most of the time. Now, by no measure does that mean our society is perfect - there are plenty of flaws, issues and injustices that constantly occur. But the point of this poem is to show that the rush, the hustle and bustle and grindset of capitalism and commercialism (which leads to many useful innovations), is also what destroys beautiful things. Robert Frost has stated this before in his poem Fire and Ice, featured on this podcast. That poem poses the theory that the world will end by either or both of two methods: the fiery drive of human ambition, greed, jealousy and the need to always have more, and the callous, unempathetic disregard for the feelings, thoughts and lives of other people.

Ultimately, this poem is kind of like those classic Christmas movies like How the Grinch Stole Christmas, carrying the moral that the spirit of Christmas isn’t about commercial gain but about the ones around us. Our friends, our family, our neighbors, our fellow men. Christmas is about thinking of others, not ourselves. So, if you celebrate Christmas, I hope you have enjoyed decorating your Christmas tree and putting presents underneath it for those you love. And as Robert Frost says, “I can't help wishing I could send you one, in wishing you herewith a Merry Christmas.”


Thank you very much for listening to this episode. Be sure to give this podcast a good rating, follow and subscribe for more, and share this poem with a friend or family member that you feel would enjoy it. Well I guess it’s not a poem, it’s a circular letter, but you get the idea. Follow on TikTok and YouTube as well to view all of the extra content I create surrounding Edgar Allan Poe and other classic authors. We are growing our community of Edgar Allan Poe and classic literature lovers quite fast and I am excited to see where it takes us! Please feel free to text the show anonymously and recommend some stories for the podcast using the link in this episode description. I’ve received a couple requests for The King in Yellow and a story by Flannery O’Connor that I’m looking into. And I’ve got a couple authors who have contacted me about featuring their stories in the new year. You can expect to hear their stories in the new year.

That’s all for now, but I’ll see you next year. I’ll be here on The Poe Show.

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