Susan Amper's Blog: Bookcrazie - Posts Tagged "poe"

When people hear the name Edgar A. Poe they usually think “dark and serious.” But most of his fiction was the opposite. To help dispel the misperception—and add cheer to your holiday season —try out these gladsome yarns.

A good introduction to Poe-as-jester is “Mystification.” It was originally titled “Von Jung, the Mystific,” then “Von Jung.” I would call it “A Portrait of the Artist as a Con Man.” The hero is Baron Ritzner Von Jung, a student at Göttingen University, who like Poe had a “lofty” forehead and stood five feet eight. He was brilliant, highly esteemed, but completely misunderstood. No one considered him even capable of a joke, but in fact he was the secret perpetrator of “the most egregious and unpardonable of all conceivable tricks, whimsicalities, and buffooneries.” He was, in sum, “one of those human anomalies now and then to be found, who make the science of mystification the study and the business of their lives.”
Not only did Von Jung’s solemn demeanor hide a droll disposition, but the tricks he engineered, like so many of Poe’s, went unrecognized as tricks. The prank in “Mystification” involves a fake book, an amphigory: a work carefully written so that it sounds profound, but actually makes no sense. (If you know the key, however—in this case to omit words according to a specified pattern—an intelligible story appears (a ridiculous one, about a duel between two baboons).
The timing of the tale’s first appearance suggests that Poe was hinting at what he himself had been doing in the stories he had recently published, including “Metzengerstein,” “MS. Found in a Bottle,” “Siope,” and “The Assignation.” Poe had meant them as satires, but their parody was so subtle that most readers took them seriously. (Many people, including some Poe scholars, still do.) Von Jung’s amphigory may also hint at the design of the tales that Poe brought out next: “Ligeia,” “The Fall of the House of Usher,” and “William Wilson”—works that seem grave and profound, but from certain angles appear ridiculous.
“Mystification,” like many of Poe’s tales, does not try to be funny throughout. It works more like a joke, which is only funny at the end. Poe wrote more than a dozen tales in which one character tricks another.

Then there are the tales in which it is the reader who is tricked. “Von Kempelen and His Discovery,” “The Premature Burial,” “Morning on the Wissahiccon,” “Mesmeric Revelation,” and “The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar” present themselves as non-fiction, but twists at the end reveal them as jests. Most are quite straight-faced up until the very end. The exception, and to me the most amusing, is “Von Kempelen,” which drops playful clues to its jesting all along the way.
The article concerns the scientist Kempelen, who is so much in the news for his recent discovery. Poe’s gimmick is to pretend that everyone has already heard of the discovery, and the present background piece is merely attempting to satisfy the public’s thirst for new details. This conceit enables him to tease us by continually referring to—and hyping—the momentous discovery without telling us what it is.
Along the way, the story drops numerous sly references to other hoaxes. It also mocks the whiny little author, who is constantly finding fault with previously published accounts, and who wants us to know about his having met Kempelen, when he stayed for a week, about six years ago, at Earl's Hotel, in Providence, Rhode Island. (Well, it’s funny the way Poe tells it.)
The jokes here are gentle, even uncertain, as in Poe’s early tongue-in-cheek parodies, “Metzengerstein,” “Siope,” and “MS. Found in a Bottle.” Preserving a veneer of gravity, these works offer a game of “Now-you-see-me, now-you-don’t” and at the same time “Where’s Waldo?” which sends readers hunting for the winks and jokes and pieces that don’t belong.

“How to Write a Blackwood Article,” by contrast, is laugh-out-loud funny throughout. The story features one Suky Snobbs, the very earnest corresponding secretary for a Philadelphia literary society, who is anxious to elevate the society’s writing. She travels to Scotland to seek advice from William Blackwood, publisher of Britain’s most successful literary magazine, who gleefully shares his recipe for tales “full of taste, terror, sentiment, metaphysics, and erudition.”
For modern readers the biggest laugh comes from seeing how precisely Blackwood’s advice matches what Poe himself was doing in tales like “Ligeia” and “The Fall of the House of Usher.” “Pay minute attention to the sensations,” Blackwood instructs. “Hint everything—assert nothing. Have an air of erudition. Put in something about the Supernal Oneness.”

“Thou Art the Man” is a comical murder mystery—with all the ingredients of modern mysteries. The rich old Barnabas Shuttleworthy lies dead, a victim of foul play. Suspicion falls on his ne’er-do-well nephew and heir. The humor comes from the droll irony of the narrator’s commentary on the doings of Charley Goodfellow, who keeps trying to exonerate the nephew, it seems, but somehow always ends up making things worse. The mystery, while easy to solve, is clever enough, with clues that seem very much ahead of their time. This tale too ends with a trick—one which, like those in many modern mysteries, traps the culprit into revealing his guilt.

Reading Poe’s comic tales can make one wonder: How do we reconcile these romps with those dark tales of the macabre? I think we should reverse the question: How do the seemingly dark ones fit into a body of fiction that is overwhelmingly comic? And overwhelmingly devoted to hoaxing.

Susan Amper, Ph.D.
https://susanamper.commons.gc.cuny.edu/
@susanamper

It has been 173 years since Edgar A. Poe died in Baltimore. He did not, however, die as a result of haunting demons as many have suggested. In fact, the cause of his death remains unknown. Not that people haven’t surmised: laudanum, alcohol, rabies, a brain fever, cholera, epilepsy, brains lesion, tuberculosis or cooping. All have been put forward.
What is known for certain is that Edgar A. Poe died on October 7, 1849 at the age of 40. The only contemporary public reference to a specific cause of death was from the Baltimore Clipper, a somewhat cryptic “congestion of the brain” (The Poe Log, p. 851). Dr. Moran wrote to Poe’s mother-in-law, Maria Clemm saying, “Presuming you are already aware of the malady of which Mr. Poe died . . .”
Thanks, but not helpful. Death certificates were not required at the time, and none is known to have been filed for Poe. The U.S. did not start maintaining vital records until 1900.
The events prior to his death began on June 29, 1849, when Poe began a lecture tour to raise money for his projected magazine the Stylus. He went first to Philadelphia, then to Richmond and Norfolk.
His definite movements can be traced up until September 28, 1849, when Poe arrived in Baltimore. Nothing from then is certain until he is found incoherent on October 3. The Edgar Allan Poe Society has an excellent page compiling the facts of Poe’s death which includes the letter below.
On October 3, Joseph W. Walker sent the following note to Dr. J. E. Snodgrass:
“Dear Sir, — There is a gentleman, rather the worse for wear, at Ryan’s 4th ward polls, who goes under the cognomen of Edgar A. Poe, and who appears in great distress, & he says he is acquainted with you, and I assure you, he is in need of immediate assistance, Yours, in haste, Jos. W. Walker.”
At the hospital, Poe was admitted and lapsed in and out of consciousness. He did not recover and died on October 7.
He was buried in an unmarked grave until a movement for a monument came to fruition in 1875. Dedicated on November 17, Walt Whitman was one of the very few who attended.
One hundred and seventy-three years later, we know now what we knew then: Edgar A. Poe, age 40, died we know not how.
Adapted from my essay: The Death of Edgar A. Poe: “A Tissue of Malevolent Blasphemies”

Edgar Allan Poe is best known for his works of horror, mystery, and poetry, but he also had a brief stint as a cadet at the United States Military Academy at West Point. Unfortunately, Poe's time at West Point was short-lived and ended in a court martial.
In 1826, Poe enrolled at the University of Virginia, but he quickly found himself in financial trouble due to his gambling habit. Allan refused to pay Poe's debts, and Poe left the university after just one semester. After several years of struggling to make a living as a writer, Poe decided to follow in the footsteps of his foster father and join the military.
Poe attempted to enter West Point starting in 1829 to no avail. But he kept on and by March 13, 1830, he had some help. Senator Powhatan Ellis of Mississippi wrote to Secretary of War John H. Eaton a letter in Poe’s behalf: “I have recd. a letter from a young gentleman in Richmond by the name of Edgar A. Poe stating that he was an applicant for a situation in the Military Academy at West Point. He requested me to ask you, if there was any probability of his receiving a warrant to enter that institution. I am not personally acquainted with Mr. Poe — but from information I would say his capacity & learning eminently qualify him to make in a few years a distinguished officer” (National Archives; Cameron [1973], p. 168).
And Poe also asks John Allan to aid in his quest. On March 31, 1830 Allan wrote Secretary John H. Eaton: “As the Guardian of Edgar Allan Poe I hereby signify my assent to his signing articles by which he shall bind himself, to serve the United States for five years, unless sooner discharged, as Stipulated in your Official Letter appointing him a Cadet” (National Archives; Cameron [1973], p. 170).
Poe arrived at West Point on June 20, 1830 and on July 1, Poe’s name appeared for the first time on the muster rolls of cadets. His age was recorded as nineteen years and five months (Cadet Alphabetic Cards, USMA). Poe took classes in French and mathematics. However, Poe quickly found himself at odds with the strict and disciplined environment of the academy. He was frequently absent from roll call and neglected his studies. He wrote to Allan to help him get out of West Point. In a letter dated January 3, 1831, Poe writes in part “it is my intention to resign. For this end it will be necessary that you (as my nominal guardian) enclose me your written permission .... your refusal would only deprive me of the little pay which is now due as mileage.
From the time of writing this I shall neglect my studies and duties at the institution — if I do not receive your answer in 10 days — I will leave the point without — for otherwise I should subject myself to dismission” (L, 1:39-43; letter is postmarked 5 January).
Poe does neglect his duties throughout January; despite that Poe ranks 17th in mathematics from a class of 87 and third in French. He was eventually court-martialed for "gross neglect of duty" and "disobedience of orders."
Poe was court-martialed on January 28, 1831and on the 19th of February left West Point for New York.

While Poe's time at West Point was brief and unsuccessful, it did provide him with some inspiration for his writing. His experiences at the academy may have influenced his portrayal of the Military Academy in his story "The Gold Bug," which was published in 1843.

Today marks the 214th birthday of Edgar Allan Poe, one of the most well-known and influential figures in American literature.
1809, 19 JANUARY. BOSTON. Edgar Poe is born to Elizabeth Arnold Poe and David Poe, Jr., both actors, playing at the Boston Theatre and residing probably at No. 62 Carver Street. Poe’s mother afterward wrote on the back of her watercolor painting, “Boston Harbour, morning, 1808”: “For my little son Edgar, who should ever love Boston, the place of his birth, and where his mother found her best, and most sympathetic friends.” The painting has not survived.
1811, 11 OCTOBER. Elizabeth Poe makes her last stage appearance, playing the part of the Countess Wintersen in August F. F. von Kotzebue’s The Stranger. She died on October 8, 1811, leaving Poe and his siblings orphans. He was just 3.
Poe was raised by John Allan, a wealthy merchant in Richmond, Virginia. Even with his privileged upbringing, Poe struggled with financial instability and personal turmoil throughout his life (a topic for another blog).
Despite these challenges, Poe was a prolific writer and is remembered for his innovative and imaginative works of poetry and prose. Some of his most famous works include "The Raven," "The Tell-Tale Heart," and "The Fall of the House of Usher."
Though Poe is known for his works of horror and the supernatural, he is less well known for his comic tales some of which are deemed to be tales of terror.
Poe is credited with pioneering the detective fiction genre with his stories featuring the character C. Auguste Dupin.
In addition to his writing, Poe was also a literary critic and worked as an editor for various magazines and newspapers. He was a controversial figure during his lifetime and his work was not always well-received, but he is now considered a crucial figure in the development of American literature. Today he has millions of followers on social media.
In Poe’s possession when he died was a bundle of his mother’s letters, written in a round hand, very like Mr. Poe’s, and two sketches of hers, one in pencil or indelible ink, the other in water colors, and represented Boston Harbour (I think from the Cambridge side) or view.
As we celebrate Poe's 214th birthday, it is important to remember the impact that he had on the literary world and the enduring legacy of his work. Happy birthday, Edgar Allan Poe!

*some specifics come from The Poe Log by Dwight R. Thomas and David K. Jackson.