“Who’s — er — Luna Now?”, 8 February 1947. A snarky Oregonian editorial about the Shelley by Midnight Incident, with a few amusing quotes:
When detected he was on the campus, reciting “To a Skylark” or “Ozymandias,” or something of the sort, and therefore, being outside the experience of the patrolmen, who would have sworn they had seen everything, was called to explain his conduct.
…
The policemen, honest fellows, had done the very best they knew how — and if this lacked for something, well, whose fault was it? If a young fellow will recite Shelley by moonlight he is properly suspect. And this experience, as police would say, is bound to learn him better.
…
Those FBI operatives are bright young men who have read Shelley themselves, and Keats too, and maybe Dorothy Parker. They consider Shelley neither to be a subversive influence nor a suspicious character. Five will give you ten that if you were to accost one of J. Edgar Hoover’s hand-picked squad with “Hail to thee, blithe spirit!” the response wouldn’t be an invitation to spend the rest of the night in a jail cell. More than likely he would complete the quotation. And this might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
We are sure we don’t know what to suggest. It occurs to us, mildly but positively, that recent stimulation of the local police force to a cleansing of the city did not intend the summary arrests of college boys spouting the English classics under a most provocative moon. Ah, Luna! No, no, officer! Pray don’t take offense. The allusion is to the moon, and not to you. You know: To Luna — “that orbed maiden with white fire laden, whom mortals call the moon.” Great heavens! He’s calling the wagon.
