This song has been part of Halloween since I can remember. It was on a 1963 Disney children's album that my parents had. Sung by Thurl Ravenscroft, this version is better than the original Bing Crosby song in the Disney animation of the Washington Irving story. Ravenscroft also sang the songs in The Grinch Who Stole Christmas (not Boris Karloff who narrated) and also voiced Tony The Tiger (They'rrrrrr, Greeaat!).
And of course Ichabod Crane is a classic American type.
OK, I'll admit that I've never read the original story. I should. It's an American classic. The movie version does needle the pedagogue archetype and seems to reward the bumpkin Bram Bones. I suspect that these were burning political issues at the time, O.K.? Could someone who has read the the story please weigh in?
The Headless Horseman scared the heck out of me as a kid.
I suspect that it was written to address urban intellectuals; it was a warning to NYC pegagogues as to what happens when you move "upriver" spreading your gospel of book learnin'.
deborah said... I always figured it was Tennessee Ernie Ford singing in Grinch.
When I was a kid, I thought the Headless Horseman was sung by some black boogeyman. Of course this was racist and naive of me.
Last night I watched "Muscle Shoals", a documentary of the Alabama recording studio that produced so many R&B hits. Fascinating story. To this day, many people assume that many of the great black singers like Aretha had black musicians behind her.
I have to admit that I didn't read the story. That said my understanding is that Ichabod was both a figure of fun - the ineffectual school marm type - and at the same time at the end of the game the winner: he does get the fair maiden. I can tell you, having lived there, that New England is full of gangly perfessers with beeyooteeful wives. Art imitating life or life imitating life? Who knows.
Hey, the Halloween I was five, my mom smeared Crisco on my face, dusted it with cocoa, and put a red bandana on my head. Damn I wish I had a pic of that.
13 comments:
I always figured it was Tennessee Ernie Ford singing in Grinch. Did you get many trickrtreaters tonight, chick?
Very, very few. But the ones who showed were grrrreeaat!
I like the zydeco arrangement in the Ravenscroft version.
I wanted to dress up like a beautiful lion and walk around holding the severed head of a dentist.
The Headless Horseman scared the heck out of me as a kid.
And of course Ichabod Crane is a classic American type. Supremo David Souter was Ichabod reborn.
And of course Ichabod Crane is a classic American type.
OK, I'll admit that I've never read the original story. I should. It's an American classic. The movie version does needle the pedagogue archetype and seems to reward the bumpkin Bram Bones. I suspect that these were burning political issues at the time, O.K.? Could someone who has read the the story please weigh in?
The Headless Horseman scared the heck out of me as a kid.
I suspect that it was written to address urban intellectuals; it was a warning to NYC pegagogues as to what happens when you move "upriver" spreading your gospel of book learnin'.
deborah said...
I always figured it was Tennessee Ernie Ford singing in Grinch.
When I was a kid, I thought the Headless Horseman was sung by some black boogeyman. Of course this was racist and naive of me.
Last night I watched "Muscle Shoals", a documentary of the Alabama recording studio that produced so many R&B hits. Fascinating story. To this day, many people assume that many of the great black singers like Aretha had black musicians behind her.
I have to admit that I didn't read the story. That said my understanding is that Ichabod was both a figure of fun - the ineffectual school marm type - and at the same time at the end of the game the winner: he does get the fair maiden. I can tell you, having lived there, that New England is full of gangly perfessers with beeyooteeful wives. Art imitating life or life imitating life? Who knows.
life imitating art
Lem, will you puhleeze add an edit feature. Puhleeze?
I can tell you, having lived there, that New England is full of gangly perfessers with beeyooteeful wives.
Didn't the story take place just outside of Tarrytown on the Hudson?
Katrina van Tassel was the daughter of old school Dutch New York.
Hey, the Halloween I was five, my mom smeared Crisco on my face, dusted it with cocoa, and put a red bandana on my head. Damn I wish I had a pic of that.
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