Envoi by Alfred Noyes

He's poking fun at literary writers and critics who become famous for uttering clever-sounding phrases that are really just nonsense — that "white is black" paradox-spinning often hailed as genius. He’s also critiquing the hype machine surrounding these writers, the "trumpets" of publicity and praise.

An envoi (or envoy) is a brief closing stanza or poem that traditionally wraps up a work, often summarizing it or directly addressing the reader. In this case, Noyes uses it as a title for a separate satirical piece—indicating that this is his final, dismissive take on literary pretension.

He's not a real person; he's a character from a comic. The humor lies in the fact that the idea of "the use of a chair" is so ridiculously obvious that no one could genuinely claim it as a discovery. Noyes portrays him as the ideal example of someone who is praised for contributing nothing original.

Noyes avoids naming individuals, allowing the poem to serve as a general satire instead of targeting anyone specifically. However, it does reflect the tensions of early twentieth-century discussions between traditionalists like Noyes and modernists such as Eliot or Pound, whose writing Noyes considered overly complicated and pretentious.

They establish a second voice—a chatty, conspiratorial tone that Noyes shares directly with the reader. Phrases like "My stars! And you very well may!" and "Puff--Puff! How the trumpets blare!" give the poem a conversational feel instead of a lecture, inviting the reader into Noyes's delight.

The poem has a loose ballad-like structure, featuring a mix of longer and shorter lines, along with those parenthetical interruptions. This irregular, bouncy rhythm fits the comic tone just right—it captures the breathless, excited energy of literary hype, all while Noyes maintains a wry and controlled demeanor.

It suggests that achieving fame is simple if you're willing to sacrifice your integrity. Noyes only asks that "you don't care how" — indicating you're open to saying anything, no matter how ridiculous, as long as it comes across as fresh and daring. It's a darkly humorous perspective on the nature of celebrity in the arts.

It's both. The delivery comes off as comic—with sound effects, exaggerated asides, and that ridiculous chair joke—but underneath it all lies a serious complaint about intellectual dishonesty and how the literary world often values performance over substance. Noyes cleverly uses humor to convey a genuine argument.