CRASH! by Amy Lowell

Editor's note

Antoine starts by looking over the street after a political upheaval—Napoleon's imperial bees lie scattered in the mud like yellow peas. Rather than feeling horror, his first instinct is aesthetic; he thinks about painting it. The title 'Plum pudding of Empire' pokes fun at Napoleon's grand symbolism, and Antoine quickly considers whether he can sell it to the new kings. This establishes the poem's tone: history as something to be traded.

Editor's note

Antoine dismisses Martin's distress and quickly returns to work. The phrase 'powders and patches' hints at their trade — cosmetics, perfumes, and luxury toiletries. The swift change in focus is the punchline: empires may crumble, but Antoine's reaction is to check the inventory.

Editor's note

Antoine thinks Martin is foolish for missing the urgent practicalities. With the collapse of the Napoleonic empire and the return of the Bourbon kings, any product named after imperial titles has become unsellable — or even worse, politically risky. The answer is straightforward: rename everything quickly.

Editor's note

Antoine crosses out 'Empress' and writes 'Queen' instead. The recipe remains unchanged—just the label shifts. Lowell uses this as the poem's main satirical point: political identity is as shallow as a brand name. Martin's question ('Not the same receipt?') represents the voice of conscience, but Antoine dismisses it.

Editor's note

This line stands out as the poem's darkest. Antoine's joke — that 'Nobility' is a fitting name since many nobles have been executed — captures the brutality of the Revolutionary and Napoleonic era in a clever pun about product naming. It's both funny and chilling, which is precisely Lowell's intent.

Editor's note

Antoine assigns perfumes to the two empresses with a flair for drama. He chooses bitter almonds for Josephine (whom Napoleon divorced) and Parma violets for Marie-Louise (Napoleon's second wife, from the Austrian house that ruled Parma). These choices feel sharp, even cruel. Antoine is toying with real people's destinies as if he were merely putting together a gift basket.

Editor's note

The sound of Blaise hammering a turkey in the kitchen keeps breaking Antoine's creative flow. This domestic chaos crashing into the grand political rebranding serves as a comic device—life's everyday noise refuses to pause while history unfolds. It also keeps the poem grounded: this is a real shop, with real people and real hunger.

Editor's note

Antoine references a biblical phrase ('the night cometh' from John 9:4, about working while there is still time) and quickly dismisses it with 'etc.' — he recognizes the moment's moral significance but chooses not to linger on it. 'Essence de la Valliere' is named after Louise de la Vallière, a mistress of Louis XIV, adding a fitting Bourbon royalist touch for the new regime.

Editor's note

'Four Thieves Vinegar' was an actual remedy from history, claimed to be used by thieves to safeguard themselves while robbing plague victims. Antoine cleverly twists this into a jab at the four allied powers that took down Napoleon. Martin, somewhat reluctantly, has come up with the name, and Antoine commends him — the humor lies in the fact that the most politically subversive item in the shop is also the smartest marketing move.

Editor's note

Martin finally expresses the poem's hidden moral argument: France has endured great suffering, and Antoine's carefree commercialism seems like a betrayal of that pain. This moment captures the poem's closest approach to real grief. Antoine's response — 'very true, but never forget that a man must feed' — isn't so much a rebuttal as it is an acknowledgment of the realities of survival.

Editor's note

The turkey being pounded in the kitchen ultimately serves as the poem's final symbol. Antoine offers two sous for "that outdated hen" — and the last three lines clarify the metaphor: the Imperial Eagle (Napoleon's symbol) is valued at two cents, the Bourbon lilies are returning, and a man must make a choice. The poem concludes not with sorrow or victory but with the stark realism of someone who has learned to navigate life by keeping an eye on the market.