Thursday, April 30, 2009

Misery is manifold

On April 30, 1835, Poe wrote an amazing letter to justify his decision to write sensational horror stories. This was early in his career; he had just published "Berenice" (one of my personal favorites), a story which is one of his most violent — though there are no scenes of violence anywhere in the story. Instead, the piece focuses on suspense and psychology, as would many later works. Nevertheless, there was some public outcry for its gruesome nature. Poe took the time to defend himself to Thomas Willis White, editor of The Southern Literary Messenger:
"Your opinion of it is very just. The subject is by far too horrible, and I confess that I hesitated in sending it especially as a specimen of my capabilities... But what I wish to say relates to the character of your Magazine more than to any articles I may offer... The history of all Magazines shows plainly that those which have attained celebrity were indebted for it to articles similar in natureto Berenice... You ask me in what does this nature consist? In the ludicrous heightened into the grotesque: the fearful coloured into the horrible: the witty exaggerated into the burlesque: the singular wrought out into the strange and mystical. You may say all this is bad taste. I have my doubts about it... But whether the articles of which I speak are, or are not in bad taste is little to the purpose. To be appreciated you must be read, and these things are invariably sought after with avidity. They are, if you will take notice, the articles which find their way into other periodicals, and into the papers, and in this manner, taking hold upon the public mind they augment the reputation of the source where they originated."
Poe concludes that he admits "Berenice," in fact, "approaches the very verge of bad taste—but I will not sin quite so egregiously again." He notes that similar stories are coming, but he asks White not to judge them without first considering their impact on the circulation of the magazine.

"Berenice" was Poe's first true horror story. In later editions, Poe did self-censor a tiny bit (it's hardly noticeable) but he didn't really back down in the theory he discussed in the above letter to White. He purposely tried to bring his stories right to the edge of grotesqueness, but still keep them entertaining. This letter allows us to question the sincerity of his horror stories and if he really believed they were worthwhile literature. This "pop culture" approach justifies his decision to use themes like premature burial, mesmerism, and other subjects which audiences gobbled up. Of course, Poe presented these themes very differently than most; as mentioned above, gratuitous violence was replaced with suspense and underpinnings focused on the narrator's psyche.

Either way, to me, this shows that Poe knew the publishing industry and, most importantly, he knew his audience. His line about being read in order to be appreciated refers just as much to White as himself; he was holding a carrot in front of White's nose to let him know he intended to increase the magazine's circulation - for White's benefit. And, from what we can tell, he succeeded.

Of course, Poe wasn't entirely sincere about never sinning quite so "egregiously" again. And White knew that. White seems to have had a decent relationship with Poe in his early career and tried to support him through a difficult time. Poe biographer Kenneth Silverman suggests a "fatherly" interest. It's also possible that Poe pursued White's daughter Eliza, then 18, as a potential wife (about a year later, Poe married his young cousin Virginia instead).

*The image above is a screenshot from an amateur film adaptation of "Berenice," created for a graduate film course. The full video (before a custom soundtrack was added) is here.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

The death of Poe's first love

185 years ago today, Poe's first love died. Or so they say.
Mrs. Jane Stith Craig Stanard died April 28, 1824, when Poe was only 15 years old. He met her through a Richmond classmate named Robert Stanard. Mrs. Stanard was a bit of an eccentric, prone to bouts of melancholy, and gradually went insane before her death.

Poe had likely known her for only a year or so but he was instantly struck by her. Sarah Helen Whitman later wrote: "This lady, on entering the room, took [Poe's] hand and spoke some gentle and gracious words of welcome, which so penetrated the heart of the orphan boy as to depireve him of the power of speech, and, for a time, almost of consciousness itself." Poe himself wrote to Whitman that Stanard was "the first purely ideal love of my soul." To friend Marie Louise Shew (who cared for Poe's wife Virginia on her deathbed), he wrote that she was "the truest, tenderest of this world's most womanly souls, and an angelt o my forlorn and darkened nature."

After her death, Poe is said to have often visited her grave at Shockoe Hill Cemetery (where his foster-mother Frances Allan would later be laid to rest). Her death was the second instance of a woman whom he loved dying in her prime (the first, of course, being his young mother Eliza Poe when he was an infant). Though some scholars have credited Stanard's death to tuberculosis, and thus part of a long series of consumptive women in Poe's life, this is not true; the "death-like sickness" she suffered has not been identified. Still, Stanard seems to have cemented the idea that the death of a beautiful woman was the most poetical topic in the world; Poe's first poem to carry the title "To Helen" was dedicated to her.

But, really, let's call a spade a spade. This isn't head over heels love. The woman was married and far too old for him (literally twice his age). This "love" was likely little more than puppy love, a boyhood crush or, perhaps, idolatry to take the place of his missing birth mother. In fact, Poe's mother-in-law/aunt Maria Clemm later wrote, "It is true dear Eddie did love Mrs. Stannard [sic] with all the affection devotion of a son. When he was unhappy at home (which was very often the case) he went to her for sympathy, and she always consoled and comforted him." Whatever the "relationship," Poe was very affected by her death.

"To Helen" (1831)

Helen, thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicean barks of yore,
That gently, o'er a perfum'd sea,
The weary way-worn wanderer bore
To his own native shore.

On desperate seas long wont to roam,
Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,
Thy Naiad airs have brought me home
To the beauty of fair Greece,
And the grandeur of old Rome.

Lo! in that little window-niche
How statue-like I see thee stand!
The folded scroll within thy hand —
A Psyche from the regions which
Are Holy land!

Monday, April 27, 2009

Emerson, Transcendentalism, and Poe

Ralph Waldo Emerson has become the figurehead of American Transcendentalism. Even in his lifetime, he was the face of the movement, even though several others were important participants; many of those names are not commonly known today (anyone remember Orestes Brownson, Christopher Pearse Cranch, Frederick Henry Hedge, Sylvester Judd, Jones Very...?). Emerson was considered to be one of the greatest minds of the 19th century. However, when he died on April 27, 1882, not much of that mind was left.

Emerson suffered from some form of dementia, speculated by some to be Alzheimer's. He certainly had aphasia — his memory could no longer find the words for simple objects and concepts. When he attended the funeral of his good friend Henry Wadsworth Longfellow only a month before his own death, Emerson reportedly said something to the effect of: "Today we bury a great man. I do not remember his name." Emerson was also forgetting his own name. When asked how he felt around this time, he once answered: ""Quite well; I have lost my mental faculties, but am perfectly well."

These final years of Emerson aren't often discussed.* Of course, Edgar A. Poe never knew Emerson at this late stage in his life. Poe knew of Emerson when he was in his prime. Poe, just like people today, saw Emerson as the icon of Transcendentalism - and that made him a target.

Poe's utter dislike of Transcendentalism was no secret (he once took a swipe at Nathaniel Hawthorne, who he otherwise respected, simply for living in Concord, Massachusetts — the seat of the movement), and his particular disgust with Emerson was equally well-known. Poe chided the Concord Sage for writing that was purposely difficult to understand — "mysticism for mysticism's sake," as Poe referred to it. Poe also identified (and he was a bit right) that Emerson was "little more than a respectful imitation of [Thomas] Carlyle."

Overall, Transcendentalism and its avowed idealism didn't make sense to Poe (nor does it make sense to most high schoolers introduced to it). As he wrote, "They could not define their own position & cannot be expected that I can define them exactly." However, he noted that their philosophy wasn't inherently bad. "You mistake me in supposing I dislike the transcendentalists," he wrote to friend Thomas Holley Chivers. "It is only the pretenders and sophists among them." When the Transcendental community at Brook Farm began publishing their journal, The Harbinger, to promote their worldview, Poe wrote it was "conducted by an assemblage of well-read persons who mean no harm—and who, perhaps, can do no less." True enough.

Eventually, Poe looped all of the Boston area with Transcendentalism (and a general Longfellow-like lack of originality). So, feel free to blame Emerson for at least part of Poe's distaste for Boston in his adult years. Next month (May 25), I'll follow up with a battle of poetry, Emerson vs. Poe.

Perhaps ironically, today, the City of Boston dedicates "Edgar Allan Poe Square" at the intersection of Charles St. and Boylston St. near his original birthplace, directly across from the Boston Common. I'm sure the ceremony was scheduled on the anniversary of Emerson's death by mere coincidence.

*I am of the opinion that Emersonians have, for years, been cleaning up his image. Hiding his struggle with dimentia - or the fact that he was not perfect - does not help him. It would be better to humanize him, rather than try to deify him.

Friday, April 24, 2009

An Edgar for a Poe?

This post is a bit out of the usual boundaries for me; instead of talking about Poe's past, how about his future?

Harry Lee Poe has been nominated for the "Edgar Award" in the category of Best Critical/Biographical work. His book, Edgar Allan Poe: An Illustrated Guide to his Tell-Tale Stories, was published at the end of 2008. As far as I know, it is already out of print. Nevertheless, if you see a copy, grab it - it is, in my opinion, the greatest concise work on Poe ever written. The nomination is quite appropriate: "Hal" Poe is a descendant of one of Poe's uncles, and the award is named after Edgar Poe and sponsored by the Mystery Writers of America.

Consider this post my endorsement of this nomination - and of this book!

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Nabokov and Poe

Today marks the birth of Russian-born novelist Vladimir Nabokov, born April 23, 1899. He missed interacting with Poe by 50 years, but the influence Poe had on Nabokov serves as a reminder of Poe's far-reaching posthumous legacy.

Nabokov published one of his most (in)famous works, Lolita, in 1955. The book, which contemporary reviews called "sheer unrestrained pornography," is built around a character named Humbert Humbert, who lusts after young women he calls "nymphets" - and, by young, I mean pre-teen. Humbert falls for a 12-year old named "Annabel Leigh." Who seduces who becomes a twist in the novel - and I'll stop there.

The point is, the book used Poe's poem "Annabel Lee" as a starting point, taking full advantage of the line "she was a child." In fact, the original title for the novel made the reference much more obvious. As Nabokov wrote to critic Edmund Wilson in 1847 (a full eight years before publication): "I am writing... a short novel about a man who liked little girls - and it's going to be called The Kingdom by the Sea."

Well, the name eventually changed and, because of the controversial content, it took quite some time before a publisher was found. Now, it's considered a modern classic, though I doubt it often ends up on high school summer reading lists. Frankly, I haven't read it, and it's not high on my "must-read" list!

Nevertheless, it shows Poe's far-reaching influence, and the interest in the poem "Annabel Lee" in particular. I dispute, of course, that Poe's poem has anything to do with pedophilia (or his marriage, for that matter), and perhaps one could argue that even that theme is only a small device in Lolita, to present a more tragic story about obsession, love, guilt, and gender-based/age-based manipulation. I think Poe would have appreciated at least some of that.

Happy birthday, Nabokov!

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Ride, boldly ride

Though Poe's relationship with the Boston-based newspaper Flag of Our Union was likely a love-hate one, some of his greatest works were published in it. One of the greatest continues off a theme introduced in "Von Kempelen and His Discovery": the California Gold Rush.

The poem "Eldorado" was first published in the April 21, 1849* issue of the Flag of Our Union, a week after the more comical treatment of "Von Kempelen" was published. "Eldorado" is a short one, but within its 24 lines, I read humor, irony, sadness, foreboding, hope, and courage. Like those who have joined the frenzy of the gold rush, the narrator in this poem is seeking easy riches. Yet, he will learn his journey will be a long, arduous one - and it seems hinted that it will never be successful. Biographer Kenneth Silverman (as he often does) quickly and without irony assigns Poe himself the role of the narrator of this poem: reaching the end of his life, Poe still grasps for success and, though he finds it unattainable, forever continues reaching.

I disagree on the autobiographical reading; instead, the poem should stand on its own for its beauty and strength as a poem. One of its greatest (yet most subtle) beauties is in the changing meaning of the word "shadow" throughout:


Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.

But he grew old—
This knight so bold—
And o'er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.

And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow—
"Shadow," said he,
"Where can it be—
This land of Eldorado?"

"Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,"
The shade replied—
"If you seek for Eldorado!"
*It seems that each issue came out exactly one week before the date on its title page.
**The image above is by French illustrator Edmund Dulac, circa 1920s.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Griswold and Graham's

It's hard to tell for certain when the first edition of The Poets and Poetry of America hit book stores. It wasn't until April 18, 1842, however that the anthology's editor, Rufus Wilmot Griswold, was informed by publishers that it was finally published. As Carey & Hart (Philadelphia) wrote to Griswold (in New York): "We have at last published the 'Poets & Poetry of America' & a handsome Book it is."

The publisher must have rushed copies to important or influential literary figures on that first day. George Rex Graham in Philadelphia, the proprietor of the very popular Graham's Magazine, almost immediately jumped to take advantage of the rising star of Griswold. He wrote only a day later, April 19, 1842:

"Have you fully determined on assuming the Chaplaincy* and to abandon the editorial chair? Or could you find it in your heart to locate in Philadelphia? Let me hear from you, as I have a proposal to make. I like your book very much. We received it from Carey & Hart on yesterday, and although it will give offense to a few, it must be popular, and it will please every man of taste."

Graham had recently parted ways with his famous editor, Edgar Poe, who had miraculously increased circulation to 40,000, but resigned in late March. What really drove sales up was Poe's infamous critical review style, which was somewhat controversial. The Arcturus (edited by Cornelius Mathews and Evert Augustus Duyckinck) noted Poe's reviews as "elaborate" and "richly deserving of attention," though he was "somewhat over literal and minute, looking oftener to the letter than the spirit."Joseph Evans Snodgrass in the Saturday Visiter in Baltimore wrote that Poe was "an excellent reviewer" even though he was "at times, provokingly hypercritical." James Russell Lowell was a little less euphemistic and wrote that Poe occasionally mistook "his phial of prussic acid for his inkstand."

The "proposal" Graham wanted to offer Griswold was Poe's former role. Griswold seems to have accepted without hesitation and moved to Philadelphia to take the job with Graham's (leaving his family behind in New York). The transition was so quick, a rumor persisted (and still does in some circles) that Poe came to clean out his desk and saw Griswold already sitting there. The rumor is quite untrue. Nevertheless, Griswold was paid $1000 — $200 more per year than Poe — likely building up some of the animosity between the two.

Griswold's run on Graham's was significantly less successful than Poe's. Though he was able to bring in substantial writers (including James Fenimore Cooper and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow), he never earned much respect there. In fact, a year after he took over, George Lippard wrote, "It was Mr. Poe that made Graham's Magazine what it was a year ago; it was his intellect that gave this now weak and flimsy periodical a tone of refinement and mental vigor."

*Griswold had recently earned the title of "Reverend," though he never had a regular congregation.

Friday, April 17, 2009

John Allan's will

John Allan was not Poe's father. Even calling him "foster-father" is a bit generous. It seems like the more common term these days is "guardian." Sure, Allan helped raise Edgar Poe but, more than anything else, young Poe often felt more like a guest in the Allan household rather than a son.

So, in one sense, it makes sense that Allan would never fulfill the fatherly duty of providing support for his son after his death. On the other hand, Poe called Allan "Pa" for parts of 15 years. And, remember, Allan is an incredibly wealthy man — one of the richest in Richmond. Either way, when John Allan sat down on April 17, 1832 to write a draft (one of many) of his last will and testament, Edgar Poe was purposely excluded.

After Frances Allan's death, John Allan married Louisa Patterson on October 5, 1830. Patterson, now the second Mrs. Allan, was listed as "executrix" of the Allan estate in the 1832 will. In 1831, the couple's first son (of three) was born, who they named John Allan, Jr. Now with a legitimate biological heir, Allan Sr. had no reason to provide for Edgar Poe in his will.

Allan did, however, give money to the family of his first wife, specifically to Ann Moore Valentine — amounting to "three hundred dollars annually" throughout "her natural life." Though he ignored his "foster son" Edgar Poe, Allan did provide for his illegitimate children. Allan had fathered twins to a married woman named Elizabeth Wills in 1830 — he called it his "fault." He had struggled for some time with balancing his responsibility to them and concern for his social standing. In the end, he made the decision to do the right thing, and offered them one-fifth of his estate or $4000 each when they reached 21 years old — a social suicide which would be exposed after John Allan's death.

John Allan died on March 27, 1834. His widow was not too happy when she heard what was in her dead husband's will... More on that another time.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

A Discovery Greater Than Gold

On April 14, 1849, the Flag of Our Union published Poe's tale "Von Kempelen and His Discovery." The timing is good because it continues the "hoax," the humor and, to a lesser extent, the science fiction aspects of the last post.

The tale begins by knocking down a Brunswick, Maine-based scientist who claims he made the same discovery before Von Kempelen. Poe doesn't believe it, saying that the newspaper reporting it probably made it up to "make a talk." After all, he says, it has an "amazingly moon-hoaxy-air" to it. That same hoaxiness is in the atmosphere of Poe's story too. As is typical, Poe adds just enough possible truth to it that it could be real — the original account of Von Kempelen's discovery was allegedly published in the Home Journal (a journal edited by Poe's friend Nathaniel Parker Willis) and Poe notes some possible errors in translation. In fact, the whole things sounds like a news piece (as intended), with the exception of being written in the first-person singular.

And Poe even seems to admit that he's writing another hoax! "There can be little question that most of the marvellous rumors afloat about this affair are pure inventions, entitled to about as much credit as the story of Aladdin's lamp." Yes, even this marvellous rumor that Poe is writing. He also notes (and a good Poeist catches this one easily) that Von Kempelen is related to a certain Maelzel.

In case you don't know, I don't want to hold you in suspense. What has Von Kempelen discovered? Why, he has been able to transmute lead into pure gold — "in fact, absolutely pure, virgin, without the slightest appreciable alloy!"

Sure, it seems silly today. But remember the story was published in 1849 — amidst the California Gold Rush. Poe was making fun of this sudden lust for gold (he'll note it in a more serious work, the excellent poem "Eldorado," as well). By the end of the story, we learn that Von Kempelen has been arrested and they are trying to force the secret out of him. In fact, people are so convinced that some day the ability to change lead into gold, that Europe already has seen "a rise of two hundred percent in the price of lead." This is comedy gold, certainly, as Poe notes that we choose what is valuable somewhat arbitrarily.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Astounding news!

ASTOUNDING NEWS!
BY EXPRESS VIA NORFOLK:

THE ATLANTIC CROSSED
IN THREE DAYS!

SIGNAL TRIUMPH OF
MR. MONCK MASON'S
FLYING MACHINE!!!

This was the headline on the front page of the New York Sun on April 13, 1844. The article below it described, in great detail, an amazing variation on a hot-air balloon invented by the well-known balloonist Monck Mason. Using a propeller, Mason was able to lead his balloon, full of riders, across the Atlantic Ocean in an impressively-fast 75 hours. This discovery would have marked an epic moment in trans-Atlantic flight, which suddenly made the world seem a little smaller and a little more accessible... as the article states: "The air, as well as the earth and the ocean, has been subdued by science." The article sums up:

This is unquestionably the most stupendous, the most interesting, and the most important undertaking, ever accomplished or even attempted by man. What magnificent events may ensue, it would be useless now to think of determining.

...If only the story were true.

Known today as "The Balloon-Hoax," Edgar A. Poe made quite a sensation with his "news" story, only a few months after his relocation to New York. Excited readers in the city demanded to know more, and copies of the newspaper quickly sold out. In fact, those who didn't get a copy "besieged" the newspaper offices and demanded more be printed. "I never witnessed more intense excitement to get possession of a newspaper," Poe wrote. His hoax had certainly made a hit.

That's not to say everyone was taken in by the hoax. It was spoofed only a day later in the Mercury, under the headline "Astounding Intelligence from the Man on the Moon." Some critics pointed out how suspicious it was to already have an image of the balloon in New York — that's some quick turn-over time in making an engraving, if the balloon had only landed in Charleston, South Carolina, just four days before publication. Poe was sure to let readers know it was all a fake within a couple of days. But Poe proved something important: he was capable of writing impossible ideas with perfect plausibility. Scholars and critics today think "The Balloon-Hoax" falls under the category of "tales of ratiocination," the early form of detective fiction which Poe invented. More importantly, however, the story is an early form of what would become known as "modern science fiction."

Early forms of sci-fi prior to Poe were not interested in presenting plausible stories. Read Frankenstein (1818), for example, and you are not given a recipe for creating a living creature out of dead people — quite the opposite, in fact. In Poe's story, however, he gives you all the details: he gave the names of everyone involved (some were real people, including novelist William Harrison Ainsworth), the balloon's exact size (13' 6" x 6' 8", filled with 320 cubic feet of gas), the materials which were used to build it, and even included snippets of the journal which Mason kept during the travel.

What denotes Poe's science fiction, then, is its emphasis on science rather than fiction. Other sci-fi works by Poe (which you've probably never read!) include "The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall" (1835), "Mellonta Tauta" (1840), "Mesmeric Revelation" (1844), and "The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar" (1845). Arguments have been made for several others, including "A Descent into the Maelstrom" (1841) and, of course, Eureka: A Prose Poem (1848). Another example that Poe is much more than a writer of scary stories!

Friday, April 10, 2009

Lippard: Supreme Washington

Today celebrates the anniversary of the birth of George Lippard, "Poe's Philadelphia friend." If I were still living in the Philadelphia area, it would be the perfect day to visit his grave - an impressive monument that has an interesting story. I hope it's not improper to talk about his death on his birthday...

Born on April 10, 1822, Lippard became a hugely successful novelist, part of the Philadelphia Gothic literary movement which presented a decaying urban environment of sin, hostility, and greed. He was also a journalist and owned his own newspaper. In the last years of his life, two of his children died, as did his wife. Suffering from tuberculosis, Lippard was working on an article protesting the Fugitive Slave Law when he died on February 9, 1854. His last words were to his physician: "Is this death?" He was 31 years old.

But, he would not be forgotten. In addition to his novels and journalism, Lippard was a labor organizer, among the first unions in the United States. The Brotherhood of the Union, as it was called, was based on Christian ideals - and heavy secrecy. Like any secret society, the Brotherhood had rituals and customs that seemed sensational, including Lippard's title as "Supreme Washington." In fact, George Washington often made appearances in Lippard's fiction (see the Boston 1775 blog for an idea) and the Brotherhood considered themselves a political entity which would do good for society as a whole, leading to decreased crime, the elimination of poverty and, of course, advancing Christian values.

It was the Brotherhood that gave Lippard his nearly 5-foot tall monument in 1886, years after he was buried at the Odd Fellows Cemetery in Philadelphia. The Brotherhood would have a near-worship of their founder in the coming years; as their numbers swelled to between 20,000 and 30,000 members, they began a semi-regular procession to his grave, where they sang hymns and read dedications. But Lippard would not stay at rest.

In 1951, Odd Fellows Cemetery was razed for a housing project. Lippard (and his monument) were moved to Lawnview Cemetery, just outside of northeast Philadelphia, hidden way in the back, where no processions come, and no hymns are read. In fact, when I first went to the grave (on his death anniversary, unknowingly - February 9, 2008), his burial records were not found on the computer. A staff member had to go into the bowels of the handwritten burial records which were never transferred over. She showed me the little index card, yellowed in the 50 years since it was first inscribed with pencil, which casually noted his plot number.

To get an idea of its extravagance (which matches Lippard's eccentricity), the front of the monument reads (in all capital letters):

The spirit of the Lord is upon me
because he hath anointed me to
preach the Gospel to the poor;
He hath sent me to heal the
brokenhearted to preach deliverance
to the captives, and recovering of
sight to the blind, to set at
liberty, them that are bruised,
to preach the acceptable
year of the Lord.

Happy birthday, George.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Charles Baudelaire: Kindred Spirit

Happy birthday to Charles Baudelaire, who was born April 9, 1821. Baudelaire, who went on to become an important poet in France, was also among the earliest to translate Poe's works into French. Poe remains a huge influence in France today and is, arguably, more respected there than anywhere in the world — including the United States.

Baudelaire first ran into the work of Poe in French translations of "The Black Cat" and "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" in the 1840s. Baudelaire was instantly smitten.

The (weak) biography of Poe by Jeffrey Meyers notes that the similarly oversized foreheads in both Baudelaire and Poe made their writings destined to be thematically-linked. I'm neither a phrenologist nor an aficionado of foreheads but Baudelaire certainly saw a kindred spirit in Poe. "The first time I opened one of his books," Baudelaire wrote, "I saw, to my amazement and delight, not simply certain subjects which I had dreamed of, but sentences which I had thought out, written by him twenty years before." He also notes, "believe me or not as you like." Perhaps shockingly, Baudelaire's works were so similar to Poe's that people were suspicious. "People accuse me of imitating Edgar Poe!"* he told painter Édouard Manet. "Do you know why I translate Poe so patiently? Because he resembled me."

And translate is what Baudelaire did. His first seems to be "Révélation magnetique" ("Mesmeric Revelation"), published in July 1848. Over 16 years, he translated enough of Poe's works into French that they make up some five books out of Baudelaire's 12-volume collected works. It is worth noting that Baudelaire did more than translate: he actually altered Poe's works. He simplified Poe's wording, removed some of the stereotypical decadence of 19th-century American writing, and left a stream-lined version which still resonates with French readers. Many of these translations are considered the definitive versions of Poe in Europe. As an aside, Baudelaire emphasized the entirety of Poe's ouvre, not just horror — I have learned firsthand that telling a Frenchman that Poe was "a horror writer" is considered confusing, if not insulting.

Yet, Baudelaire also contributed to the "myth of Poe" which emphasized the author as dark, depressed, disturbed — and nothing else. As a drinker, Baudelaire wrote, Poe "did not drink like an ordinary toper, but like a savage, with an altogether American energy and fear of wasting a minute, as though he was accomplishing an act of murder, as though there was something inside him that he had to kill." Baudelaire also helped in intermingling Poe's fiction with Poe's life story such that boundaries were not easily defined. As for Poe's death, Baudelaire wrote, it was "almost a suicide... a suicide prepared for a long time." I might argue that these assessments were more reflective of Baudelaire than of Poe.

Nevertheless, to Baudelaire, we owe something of the French fascination with our humble American writer. Happy birthday, Baudelaire — and thank you.

*Baudelaire's critics were quite right. He ripped off part of "The Fall of the House of Usher" in a story called "Spleen" and paraphrased part of "To Helen" in his poem "The Living Flame." He also rewrote a scene from Poe's The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym as a poem, "Voyage to Cythera." These should be considered homages, however, and not plagiarism.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

The Poe family leaves Philadelphia

Though Poe had his work published throughout the United States, the Edgar Allan Poe National Historic Site specifically commemorates his time in Philadelphia — considered to be his most prolific, most lucrative, and happiest period. Here, he published "The Gold-Bug," "The Murders in the Rue Morgue," "The Black Cat," and "The Tell-Tale Heart" (to name a few). He lived in several homes throughout the city, the last of which was the one here on Spring Garden St. It is also the only of his Philadelphia homes still standing.

This post, however, is about the end of that several-year period in 1844. Poe and his wife Virginia left their Spring Garden home early on April 6, traveling via train to Perth Amboy, New Jersey and from there taking a steamer to New York. Virginia, who Poe called "Sissy," was already sick with tuberculosis and would die within three years. Nevertheless, they were optimistic and hoped that a relocation to New York would solve their problems.

The next day, April 7, Poe wrote to his mother-in-law Maria Clemm, still in Philadelphia. "We started in good spirits, but did not get here until nearly 3 o'clock... Sissy coughed none at all." The day was a rainy one and Poe left Virginia behind on the boat while he tried to find a place to board. He found a boarding-house at 130 Greenwich Street in lower Manhattan and went back for Virginia. They celebrated their arrival in style:
Last night, for supper, we had the nicest tea you ever drank, strong & hot — wheat bread & rye bread — cheese — tea-cakes (elegant) a great dish (2 dishes) of elegant ham, and 2 of cold veal, piled up like a mountain and large slices — 3 dishes of the cakes, and every thing in the greatest profusion. No fear of starving here... I feel in excellent spirits & have'nt drank a drop.
Poe concludes the letter by noting that Sissy cried later that night because she missed her mother — and the family cat, Catterina.

The letter has been analyzed by several Poe scholars, who question the veracity of their big meal, how they could have afforded it, why Poe was sure to note he wasn't drinking, why Virginia was crying, and how juvenile she must be for missing the cat (she was 21 years old at this point).

Either way, Poe's time in New York will be a struggle, financially and emotionally. Yet, here he will also meet one of his greatest successes with the publication of "The Raven." And don't think that New York has forgotten their adopted son. Walking tours of Greenwich focusing on Poe are offered, and the last home in which Poe lived — the Poe Cottage in Fordham — is open to the public.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Happy B-Movie Birthday

Today celebrates the birthday of Roger Corman, B-movie-maker extraordinaire. Under his belt are several low-budget adaptations of stories by Poe - although few of them come close to the source material and at least one shares nothing in common with Poe beyond a title.

Regardless of what you might think of Corman's Poe movies, he certainly introduced them to a new audience in the 1960s. Many, of course, never went beyond the films, but I'm sure quite a few ran to their nearest book shop to buy their own collected works of Poe. I give Corman credit for that.

My favorite of all of Corman's loose adaptations is, perhaps ironically, the only one that does not star his frequent collaborator Vincent Price. Instead, The Premature Burial stars veteran actor Ray Milland. The film, I think, captures the original spirit of the story quite well, with ample amounts of the expected campiness thrown in. The trailer alone gives you a good idea of the camp:



Happy birthday, Roger Corman!

Friday, April 3, 2009

A Knickerbocker Birthday

Happy birthday to one of America's first men of letters, Washington Irving, who was born 226 years ago today on April 3, 1783. Other writers had existed before Irving and, truth be told, his writing lacks clear focus (sometimes comedy, sometimes sincere biography, sometimes pseudo-history full of inaccuracy and legend) and has not stood the test of time as amongst the most meritorious in the literary canon. Nonetheless, Irving was incredibly popular on both sides of the Atlantic — and, really, in the early 19th century, that's all that mattered. Just about every American writer contemporary to Irving and immediately following him owe him for some amount of inspiration — including Edgar A. Poe.

The first interaction between Irving and Poe was almost very early in Poe's life. In 1819, Irving was in London and making a major impact on the social scene. He dined with friends, certainly, but Irving was always looking to meet new people. One new person was a Scotland-born merchant who had recently moved all the way from Richmond, Virginia, to established a branch of his mercantile business. We can only imagine what John Allan and Washington Irving discussed — but it likely wasn't the 10-year old Edgar Poe, who was staying at a nearby boarding-school in Stoke-Newington at the time.

Years and years later, Poe was hoping to really get a foothold in the American literary scene. Like many young wannabes, Poe sought out the endorsement of Irving, by then known for his Sketch-book, a collection of short stories. In 1839, Poe sent him a couple stories of his own: "William Wilson" and "The Fall of the House of Usher." Both were a far-cry from the innocent, vaguely patriotic, tongue-in-cheek stories Irving wrote, like "Rip Van Winkle." Irving preferred "William Wilson," he wrote, but only offered faint praise overall. Poe got a kick out of it anyway, and proudly flaunted the letters and used quotes from Irving to promote Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque.

Poe would never get a better endorsement from Irving, and that's fine; By the 1840s, Poe was earning his own ground in American letters — especially as a critic. In that role, Poe wrote of Irving as being able to convey "a just idea of ... exquisite loveliness" and his Tales of a Traveler are "graceful and impressive narratives." Nevertheless, Poe thought Irving was riding on an old reputation that was slowly sullying. He is "much overrated," Poe wrote, "and a nice distinction might be drawn between his just and his surreptitious and adventitious reputation." Worse, he elsewhere wrote, Irving "has become so thoroughly satiated with fame as to grow slovenly in the performance of his literary tasks." The view wasn't solely Poe's — others began noticing that Irving's later writings weren't living up to the hype.

Overall, however, even Poe has to admit that Irving was an important influence. Parts of Poe's novel The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket were directly inspired by Irving's Astoria, for example. Most obviously, one can't read Poe's attempts at burlesque and other humor stories without thinking of Irving (try "The Devil in the Belfry"). So, I think even Poe would join me in wishing Washington Irving — overrated or not — a very happy birthday. If all goes according to plan, I'll be at Sunnyside and Sleepy Hollow Cemetery before the end of the day.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Poe taught me everything worth knowing

I was inspired by a similar list focusing on Charles Dickens. Even though Poe despised morals in his tales (he called it the heresy of the didactic), what kind of world would it be if we learned all our lessons from Poe? I call it...

Everything I Need To Know in Life I Learned from Edgar A. Poe

10. Never bet the devil your head. If you do, don't be surprised when the devil causes you to lose your head "accidentally." How transcendental!

9. If you run out of murder suspects, blame the ape and a straight razor. No one will see it coming, but the best part is that an ape can't technically be charged with a crime.

8. When you're desperate whilst adrift at sea, suggesting that one must die to preserve the lives of the others will leave you as the one cannibalized by your friends. Call it karma.

7. Nothing is worse than being caught between a rock and a hard place... except for being caught between a pit and a pendulum. In those cases, any attempts at escape are probably just a ploy that your captors expected you to follow like a script... just hope that someone else will save your ass.

6. Art imitates life. Or vice versa.

5. Love at first sight really does exist - albeit somewhat ironically.

4. Sometimes in life, you'll realize that everyone around you is crazy, as if the inmates have taken over the asylum.

3. No matter how you try to hide it and act casual, your guilt will always come back to haunt you - especially if you're cocky about the whole thing.

2. Nothing is worse than cruelty to animals - except, maybe, domestic abuse and homicide.

1. You can bare a thousand injuries - but when someone ventures upon insult, vow revenge. For subtle humor, try to find a time when your victim is wearing a clown outfit and get him trashed.

Happy April Fool's Day!