Once upon a midnight dreary, while I ponder, weak and weary…because its so late and I should be in bed. This post was intended to be aired on Friday, October 7th. I decided to reserve that date for a very special post so please realize that I know that it is actually Thursday, October 6th and bear with me.

October 7th, 1849 marks the day of the death of Edgar Allan Poe. At a mere 40 years of age Poe died as he lived, mysteriously. If you know anything about Poe it is probably of the nature of his lifestyle and addictions, facts which many see as part of the many inconsistencies in accounts of Poe’s life. I’ll get back to that.

I first discovered the stories of Edgar Allan Poe in 7th grade. I was taking a junior high literature class in which we read The Masque of the Red Death. The tale was so engrossing that I sat there and read it again and again, trying to fathom every possible meaning and nuance of the story. I became a fan then and have never stopped being one. At the time I was attending a small Christian school and I have always found it ironic that my eyes would be opened to Poe’s macabre tales at a place where one would stereotypically assume they would frown upon those type of stories. To this day I am extremely grateful to the author of that literature book who introduced me to such delightful, delicious tales of mystery, terror and imagination.

If you have never read any of the works of Edgar Allan Poe you have missed out on some of the greatest stories ever recorded. While not wildly successful in terms of riches Poe was a very celebrated author even while he was alive, receiving critical acclaim for his short stories and poems. The acclaim was valid then and even more so today. Most of Edgar Allan Poe’s tales are timeless. They don’t feel like old literature that one dusts off to discover the way people used to think. His stories are alive and vibrant and thought provoking. They are capable of giving you a chill on a cold dark night and they make you marvel at the talent of a man who wrote his greatest works and died before the age of 40. Edgar Allan Poe only published one novel-length story, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket. The rest of his works are short stories and poems, both of which he was a master. Poe’s stories are not frightening because of an abundance of blood and gore, they are frightening because the subject matter rings true of reality tinged with madness. They are stories of revenge and murder, of madness and justice, of the death of young loves and of being buried alive (a particular favorite subject in Poe’s stories). Poe is also considered the father of the detective story with his character of Dupin featured in the 3 stories: Murders in the Rue Morgue, Mystery of Marie Roget, and The Purloined Letter. Virtually all the conventions recognized in detective fiction today originated in these stories by Poe.

Like any genius there is a great deal of speculation as to where Poe got his ideas. It could easily be argued that his life circumstances contributed to the tone of melancholy and death in his works. Poe’s mother and father both died before he was 3 years old and he was taken into the home of the Allan family. Poe’s relationship throughout childhood and early adulthood with the Allan family was a rocky one. He was never officially adopted and was eventually disowned by the family. In 1835 he went to live with his widowed aunt Maria Clemm and her daughter Virginia. In 1836 Edgar Allan Poe married his 13 year old cousin Virginia, he was 27. In 1842 she became severely ill with tuberculosis. She was tragically ill throughout her remaining years and died in 1847. Biographical accounts indicate that Poe had occasional intense bouts with alcohol. Depending on who you believe the extent of this problem ranges from minor to alcoholism being a driving force in his life. The problem with the biographies of Poe is that many were written years after his deaths from accounts of those who were still alive who knew him, many of whom are thought to have had agendas of their own. One particular biographer seemed hell bent while Poe was alive to paint him as a devil and a poster child for the wickedness of alcohol. Whatever can be said it is generally believed that depression and alcohol use increased dramatically after Virginia’s death and last until his own death in 1849.

Taken from the Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore “… there is also no greater example of how badly Poe’s biography has been handled. Shrouded in opinion and contradiction, the essential details of Poe’s final days leave us with more questions than answers. In the end we must accept that the few tantalizing facts we have lead to no certain conclusion. Poe’s death must, probably, remain a mystery — but the puzzle still teases and entices us.” There are varying theories as to the cause of Poe’s death and what happened to him between the days of approximately September 27th when all seemed well to October 3rd when he was found in a bad state and hospitalized, never to regain consciousness to the point of being able to coherently relate the circumstances of his malady. You can read the many accounts and theories here. Alcoholism, disease, attempted murder, being beat up by a political gang…all and more are theories as to the reasons for his death and none have overwhelming evidence to suggest that they are the true reason. The mystery remains.

Here is a link to all of Edgar Allan Poe’s works online. While I’m not a fan of reading fiction on the computer it does give one an opportunity to sample his work without taking a trip to the library or bookstore. To truly experience Poe you must be reading from the printed page, book in hand. There is simply nothing like reading stories in book form and Poe’s writing screams for a comfy chair, darkness, and a good solid volume of his works in your hand. I have several different volumes of various works of Poe. A large portion of my Halloween decorating consists of putting together my Edgar Allan Poe shrine complete with books and other memorabilia that remind me of Poe and his works. One of my most prized pieces and an indication of my Poe obsession was this gift given to me by my lovely wife last year for Christmas. It was a complete and utter surprise and I’m still thrilled by it to this day.

It is a brick from the last Manhattan residence of Edgar Allan Poe. The Poe Museum lost its bid to block New York University from demolishing it in constructing their new location. The apartment at 85 Amity Street, Greenwich Village was demolished in 2001 and the Poe Museum and the Mystery Writers of America obtained some of the bricks as part of the settlement for them to sell. Mary went to the Poe Museum site and purchased one for me. Here is a close up of the plaque attached to the brick:

They obtained 700 bricks and mine is number 327. I may be silly but I just love this!

If you are interested in reading Poe, Barnes and Noble put out this wonderful large format book last year

It has several of Poe’s better known works and is beautifully illustrated by Mark Summers. As an added bonus it has an introduction by Neil Gaiman and is only $14.95! The one I had was damaged and I found one in perfect condition in Chicago for $8.50!!!

Edgar Allan Poe is an author worth reading and re-reading to savor his deep delicious and often macabre tales. I recommend The Raven, The Black Cat, The Fall of the House of Usher, and The Tell-Tale Heart as good ones to begin with. 156 years after his death he is still one of the greatest if not the greatest American author. As in death there is mystery surrounding Poe’s actual place of burial. Of the many monuments and gravestones this is my favorite.

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted–nevermore!