The gentleman to the right is none other

The gentleman to the right is none other than Edgar Allan Poe, one of history’s greatest poets and authors. Everyone knew Poe was great. However, when I saw not only one but two references to the man on The Simpsons, I knew that he had arrived and was here to stay.

Generation X, Y, and Z Perhaps I was being a bit facetious with that last statement, but I sure that there is some truth to it. I think that out modern culture can sometimes ignore history, especially aspects of it like literature. What I mean is that, in general, my generation and younger do not have a strong appreciation for authors that don’t include R. L. Stine. Thinking of popular authors for teenagers is tough. Think of your friends’ favorite authors. How many of them actually read for fun? What I’m saying is that for Poe to appear on The Simpsons says something about his work. People know it. If they didn’t it would have been pointless to show it on a TV show where the majority of the audience is children and non-English majors.

He Married His Cousin? One of the first things that I ever learned about Poe was that he had married his cousin. This had, for me, attached a certain stigma right from the get-go. However, there was much more to Poe than his incestuous relationship with his cousin. Poe was born January 19, 1809 in Boston Massachusetts. In 1811, his parents died, leaving him with John Allan, a Virginian merchant. On October 7, 1849 Poe died. His cause of death is a mystery. A death truly befitting for one of history’s most mysterious writers. Virginia Clemm 1823 -1847 Poe married Virginia when she was 13 years old on May 16, 1836. But that’s not all there was to Poe. Some stuff happened the forty years he was here.

• 1809 Edgar Poe is born in Boston. • 1811 Edgar's mother and Father die. • 1811 The orphaned Edgar is taken into the home of John and Frances Allan of Richmond. Allan never legally adopts • 1812 Poe is baptized and christened as "Edgar Allan Poe“. • 1815 John and Frances Allan leave for England with Edgar. • 1820 Edgar and his family return to America from England. • 1824 Poe writes a two-line poem: "-- Poetry - Edgar A. Poe -- Last night, with many cares & toils oppres'd, Weary, I laid me on a couch to rest --. " (This is Poe's earliest surviving poem. It was never published during his lifetime, nor used as part of a longer poem. ) • 1826 Edgar Allan Poe enters the University of Virginia. • 1827 Poe enlists in the United States Army under the name Edgar A. Perry.

• 1827 Poe's first book, Tamerlane and Other Poems is published. The thin pamphlet sells perhaps 50 copies, many likely distributed free for reviews. (Today, only twelve copies are known to exist. As much as $172, 000 has been paid at auction. Most copies are imperfect. ) • 1829 Poe is released from the Army. • 1836 Edgar (27) and Virginia (13) marry in Richmond, Virginia. • 1847 Virginia Poe dies of tuberculosis in Fordham, New York. • 1848 Poe begins to court New England widow and poetess Sarah Helen Whitman. After considerable effort, he manages to secure a promise of marriage. Mrs. Whitman is concerned about his reputation for drinking. Poe pledges to be temperate. • 1848 Poe fails to meet the condition of total abstinence from drinking and Mrs. Whitman calls off the engagement. • 1849 Edgar Allan Poe dies in Baltimore. • 1910 Poe is inducted into the Hall of Fame in New York, 61 years after his death.

Click Here For A Complete Collection of Poe's Work

An Acrostic A Dream Within A Dream Al Aaraaf Alone Annabel Lee Bells Beloved Physician Bridal Ballad A Campaign Song The City in the Sea The Coliseum The Conqueror Worm The Divine Right Of Kings Dream-Land Dreams Eldorado Elizabeth Epigram for Wall Street Enigma An Enigma Evening Star Eulalie Fairy-Land Fanny For Annie The Happiest Day The Haunted Palace Hymn Impromtu. To Kate Carol Irene(The Sleeper) Israel The Lake Lenore The Raven Romance To— (Song) The Spirits of the Dead Tamerlane The Valley of Unrest To F's S. O—d To Helen To The River— To M— To One In Paradise Ulalume A Valentine The Valley of Unrest

The Angel of The Odd The Assignation The Balloon-Hoax Berenice The Black Cat Bon-Bon The Business Man The Cask of Amontillado The Colloquy of Monos and Una The Conversation of Eiros and Charmion A Decided Loss A Descent Into The Maelstrom The Devil in the Belfry Diddling Considered as One of the Exact Sciences Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether The Duc De L'Omlette The Domain of Arnheim Eleonora Epimanies Eureka - A Prose Poem The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar The Fall of the House of Usher Four Beasts In One - The Homo. Cameleopard The Gold Bug Hans Phaall Hop-Frog How to Write a Blackwood Article The Imp of the Perverse The Island of the Fay The Journal of Julius Rodman King Pest Landor's Cottage The Landscape Garden Ligeia Lionizing Loss of Breath Literary Life of Thingum Bob, ESQ.

The Man of the Crowd The Man That Was Used Up Masque of Red Death Mellonta Tauta Mesmeric Revelation Metzengerstein Morella Morning On The Wissahiccon Ms. Found in a Bottle Murders in the Rue Morgue Mystery of Marie Roget Mystification Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym Never Bet The Devil Your Head Oblong Box Oval Portrait Pit and the Pendulum The Power of Words A Predicament Premature Burial Purloined Letter Shadow - A Parable Silence - A Fable Some Words With a Mummy (The) Spectacles The Sphinx The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether A Tale of the Ragged Mountains A Tale of Jerusalem The Tell-Tale Heart Thou Art The Man The Thousand-Second Tale of Scheherazade Three Sundays in a Week The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall Von Kempelen and His Discovery Why the Little Frenchman Wears His Hand in a Sling William Wilson

So obviously Poe wrote a lot. But so did Shakespeare. And so did countless other writers. Heck, Danielle Steele pumps out a four hundred page novel every month (but that is due to her ability to recycle plot lines over and over). However, I don’t think that it is the writer’s volume of work that makes them great. Quality vs. quantity, after all.

I think that one of the things that impresses me most, as well as others I’m sure, is Poe’s cleverness and mysteriousness. I don’t think that anyone really knew who he was. He was a big question mark. I would assume that he was a rather dark individual, based on the macabre-ish literature that I’ve read of his. But you know what happens when you assume. As for his cleverness, I’ll show you what I mean. Maybe cleverness isn’t even the word, but I’ll let you be the judge of that.

For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes, Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda, Shall find her own sweet name, that nestling lies Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader. Search narrowly the lines!— they hold a treasure Divine— a talisman— an amulet That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure— The words— the syllables! Do not forget The trivialest point, or you may lose your labor And yet there is in this no Gordian knot Which one might not undo without a sabre, If one could merely comprehend the plot. Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing Of poets, by poets— as the name is a poet's, too, Its letters, although naturally lying Like the knight Pinto— Mendez Ferdinando— Still form a synonym for Truth— Cease trying! You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do. -The End- Despite Poe’s seemingly dark side, he did write this Valentine for someone. Encoded within the poem is the recipient’s name. Are you clever enough to solve one of Poe’s most famous riddles?

For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes, Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda, Shall find her own sweet name, that nestling lies Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader. Search narrowly the lines!— they hold a treasure Divine— a talisman— an amulet Frances Sargent Osgood That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure— The words— the syllables! Do not forget The trivialest point, or you may lose your labor And yet there is in this no Gordian knot Which one might not undo without a sabre, If one could merely comprehend the plot. Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing Of poets, by poets— as the name is a poet's, too, Its letters, although naturally lying Like the knight Pinto— Mendez Ferdinando— Still form a synonym for Truth— Cease trying! You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do. -The End- This valentine was written for Frances Sargent Osgood. Mrs. Osgood's full name is spelled with one letter on each line, the first letter of the first line ("F"), the second letter of the second line ("r"), the third letter of the third line ("a"), etc.

So, were you clever enough to decipher Poe’s riddle? If you’re anything like me, probably not. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s pretty sneaky. Mrs. Osgood probably never knew it was for her… Poe vs. The Riddler… Definitely a resemblance! So, I guess I should get on with the whole idea of a reflective Power Point. The previous have been a build-up, introducing you to Poe and his work. Good to go?

Everyone’s got a critic. From what I found, Poe had a lot of them. Aww…they were just jealous.

• "Your Periodical [the Southern Literary Messenger] is decidedly superior to any Periodical in the United States, and Mr. Poe is decidedly the best of all our young writers. I don't know but that I might add all our old ones, with one or two exceptions, among which, I assure you, I don't include myself. " (James Kirke Paulding) • "Where was the detective story until Poe breathed the breath of life into it? " (Arthur Conan Doyle) • "In him [Poe] American literature is anchored, in him alone, on solid ground. " (William Carlos William) • "It's because I liked Edgar Allan Poe's stories so much that I began to make suspense films. " (Alfred Hitchcock)

• "Poe is too fond of the wild — unnatural and horrible! Why will he not permit his fine genius to soar into purer, brighter, and happier regions? Why will he not disenthrall himself from the spells of German enchantment and supernatural imagery? There is room enough for exercise of the highest powers, upon the multiform relations of human life, without descending into the dark, mysterious and unutterable creations of licentious fancy. " (From the Richmond Compiler) • "You might call him [Poe] 'The Leader of the Cult of the Unusual'. " (Jules Verne) • "Poe wrote like a drunkard and a man who is not accustomed to pay his debts. " (Arthur Twining Hadley, President of Yale University) • "To me his [Poe's] prose is unreadable — like Jane Austen's. No, there is a difference. I could read his prose on salary, but not Jane's. Jane is entirely impossible. It seems a great pity that they allowed her to die a natural death. " (Mark Twain [Samuel L. Clemens])

“He [Poe] was like a wolf chained by the leg among a lot of domestic dogs. " (Arthur Ransome)

So there you have it – just a taste of what others think about Poe in general, so to be more specific I have chosen to focus on one poem in particular. Sorry to be predictable, but I chose…

Probably Poe’s most famous piece. Everyone knows the phrase, “Quoth the raven, ’Nevermore’”. Oooh, shivers.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore -While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. " 'T is some visitor, " I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-Only this and nothing more. “ Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow -- vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow -- sorrow for the lost Lenore-For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me -- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before: So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating. " 'T is some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-That it is and nothing more. " Presently my soul grew stronger: hesitating then no longer, "Sir, " said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore: But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"-- here I opened wide the door-Darkness there and nothing more. Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there wondering fearing. Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before: But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore? " This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word "Lenore!"-Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. "Surely, " said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore-'T is the wind an nothing more!" Open here i flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-- Perched upon a bust of Pallas just a bove my chamber door-Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou, " I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore– Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore. "

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning -- little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door-Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore. " But the Raven sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpoor. Nothing further then he uttered, not a feather then he fluttered-- Till I scarcely more then muttered, "Other friends have flown before -- On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before. " Then the bird said, "Nevermore. " Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless, " said I, "what it utteres is it only stock and store Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -- Till the dirges of his Hope the melancholy burden bore Of 'Never - nevermore. '"

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door, Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking, "Nevermore. " This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er velvet-violet lining with lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore! To This On the But whose Then methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch, " I cried, "thy God has lent thee -- by these angels he hath sent thee Respite -respite the nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh, quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!“ Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore. "

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! -- prophet still, if bird of devil! Whether Tempter sent, or whatever tempest tossed thee ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -this home by Horror haunted -- tell me truly, I implore -there -- is there balm in Gilead? -- tell me, I implore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore. " Is On "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! -- prophet still, if bird of devil! By that Heaven that bends above us -- by that God we both adore-- Tell his soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore. " Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore. " "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting-"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door! Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore. "

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor, And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted -- nevermore!

For anyone who happens to be as poetically inept I (or me, agh, stupid grammar) here is a wonderful summary by Christoffer Nilsson.

A lonely man tries to ease his "sorrow for the lost Lenore, " by distracting his mind with old books of "forgotten lore. " He is interrupted while he is "nearly napping, " by a "tapping on [his] chamber door. " As he opens up the door, he finds "darkness there and nothing more. " Into the darkness he whispers, "Lenore, " hoping his lost love had come back, but all that could be heard was "an echo [that] murmured back the word 'Lenore!'" With a “burning soul”, the man returns to his chamber, and this time he can hear a tapping at the window lattice. As he "flung [open] the shutter, " "in [there] stepped a stately Raven, " the bird of illomen (Poe, 1850). The raven perched on the bust of Pallas, the goddess of wisdom in Greek mythology, above his chamber door. The man asks the Raven for his name, and surprisingly it answers, and croaks "Nevermore. " The man knows that the bird does not speak from wisdom, but has been taught by "some unhappy master, " and that the word "nevermore" is its only "stock and store. "

The man welcomes the raven, and is afraid that the raven will be gone in the morning, "as [his] Hopes have flown before"; however, the raven answers, "Nevermore. " The man smiled, and pulled up a chair, interested in what the raven "meant in croaking, ‘Nevermore. ’" The chair, where Lenore once sat, brought back painful memories. The man, who knows the irrational nature in the raven’s speech, still cannot help but ask the raven questions. Since the narrator is aware that the raven only knows one word, he can anticipate the bird's responses. "Is there balm in Gilead? " - "Nevermore. " Can Lenore be found in paradise? - "Nevermore. " "Take thy form from off my door!" - "Nevermore. " Finally the man concedes, realizing that to continue this dialogue would be pointless. And his " soul from out that shadow" that the raven throws on the floor, "Shall be lifted -- Nevermore!"

I should probably be honest and let you know that my first experience with Poe was indeed on the Simpsons. For this reason, I think that I am having a harder time seeing “The Raven” for what it really is. Literary Criticism - Christoffer Nilsson If you have seen the Halloween Special that is pictured above, you may understand my dilemma.

I think that “The Raven” is one of those pieces that have just a little bit of symbolism in them. Boy do I love symbolism. Symbols - Christoffer Nilsson I think that from what I’ve learned about Poe, I could assume that he was very precise in his work. For this I would reason that parts of “The Raven” were chosen for specific reasons. For example, the raven. Why would Poe choose a raven? In my opinion, they are evil things, yet the raven does nothing to this effect in the poem. It merely acts as an antagonist to the narrator. Perhaps The Simpsons did offer me something to understanding the poem. The narrator, according to Matt Groening, was sitting in a large room all by himself. I think that this, rather obviously, demonstrates the loneliness of the man, without his dear Lenore.

What could I possibly say about Poe that hasn’t already been said thousands of times? The guy obviously had a dark side. Perhaps a prominent dark side to be more exact. Obviously Poe is famous. For me, not quite up there with Shakespeare, but good none-the-less. He would be something I’d read when I was in a funny mood, but not a lazy one. I find Poe to be not very blatant sometime. He is also very descriptive, and I tend to get lost if I’m not paying attention. I think one of the most important things I learned from this was not even about Poe directly. It came from all those critics from a hundred years ago. Those critics degraded Poe so much back then, but look at him now. Obviously they were wrong, or represented such a small portion of the population that it didn’t matter what they thought. It’s all about not listening to those who aren’t important to you. I’ll leave y’all with some famous words of Poe’s.

“ I have great faith in fools; my friends call it self-confidence. ” “ Science has not yet taught us if madness is or is not the sublimity of the intelligence. ” “ The true genius shudders at incompleteness - and usually prefers silence to saying something which is not everything it should be. ” “ I don't suffer from insanity but enjoy every minute of it. ”

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