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Edgar Allan Poe. 1809 - 1849. Background. January 19, 1809: Born to traveling actors - Boston Parents died before he was 3 yrs. old Sent to live with John Allan and his wife Frances (tobacco businessman). John Allan. Poe’s Life. Wanted to be a writer: Lord Byron = his inspiration
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Edgar Allan Poe 1809 - 1849
Background • January 19, 1809: Born to traveling actors - Boston • Parents died before he was 3 yrs. old • Sent to live with John Allan and his wife Frances (tobacco businessman) John Allan
Poe’s Life • Wanted to be a writer: Lord Byron = his inspiration • 1826: University of Virginia – excelled in classes/racked up enormous debt • Fiancée dumped him; left Allan home + quit school • Joined army First book Tamerlane published when 18yrs.
West Point • Francis Allan dies • Reconciliation w/John who gets him into West Point • Published another book before going • Allan remarries – doesn’t tell Poe – who offended - threatens to get thrown out of WP, which he does, 8 mths in Publishes another book
Baltimore to Richmond • Visits father’s relatives – moves in w/aunt, Maria Clemm + Virginia, her daughter • Allan dies – leaves Poe nothing • Poe begins publishing stories + becomes editor + writer for magazine in Richmond • Southern Literary Messenger • Poe made it most popular mag w/in a year
Work Married Life • Moved to NYC • After “Panic of 1837,” struggled to find magazine work +wrote only novel, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym • 1842: wife contracts TB • Philadelphia: worked for several mags • 1844: Returns to NYC • Marries Virginia, 13 yr. old cousin, at age 27
January 1845: “The Raven” • “Raving” success! + Buys own magazine • 1846: leaves NY - rumors of another woman (married) - wife’s ill health - failure of business • 1847: wife dies (24 yrs. old) • Travels + gives lectures • Nancy Richmond (MA), Sarah Whitman (RI), Elmira Royster Shelton (VA)
Engagement + Death • Engaged to Elmira Shelton • On trip to Philly, stops in Baltimore + disappears 5 days • Found in bar – taken to hospital – dies October 7, 1849
Stories & Poems • "It was night, and the rain fell; and falling, it was rain, but, having fallen, it was blood.
“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.” The Tell-Tale Heart The Fall of the House of Usher The Masque of the Red Death The Pit and the Pendulum The Premature Burial http://poestories.com/index.php
Gothic/Dark Romanticism • Reaction against “transcendentalism” • Called them “Frogpondians” – after pond in Boston Writing Style • Haunting & visceral imagery • Death, guilt, revenge, and gloomy morbid topics • Irony and foreshadowing • Unique & intricate vocabulary • Repetition
Poems • Musical quality: “Annabel Lee” and “Bells” - alliteration/assonance - internal/external rhyme - punctuation: enjambment + caesura - rhyme • Topics: beautiful women who die, misery, loneliness, emotional trauma, death in general
TheCity inthe Sea Lo! Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone Far down within the dim West, Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best Have gone to their eternal rest. There shrines and palaces and towers (Time-eaten towers that tremble not!) Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot, Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie. No rays from the holy heaven come down On the long night-time of that town; But light from out the lurid sea Streams up the turrets silently- Gleams up the pinnacles far and free- Up domes- up spires- up kingly halls- Up fanes- up Babylon-like walls- Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers- Up many and many a marvellous shrine Whose wreathed friezes intertwine The viol, the violet, and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie. So blend the turrets and shadows there That all seem pendulous in air, While from a proud tower in the town Death looks gigantically down.
There open fanes and gaping graves Yawn level with the luminous waves; But not the riches there that lie In each idol's diamond eye- Not the gaily-jewelled dead Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas! Along that wilderness of glass- No swellings tell that winds may be Upon some far-off happier sea- No heavings hint that winds have been On seas less hideously serene.
But lo, a stir is in the air! The wave- there is a movement there! As if the towers had thrust aside, In slightly sinking, the dull tide- As if their tops had feebly given A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow- The hours are breathing faint and low- And when, amid no earthly moans, Down, down that town shall settle hence, Hell, rising from a thousand thrones, Shall do it reverence.