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Thread: Poe

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    Random scribblings. moonbird's Avatar
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    Poe

    When I was a little girl, my father used to read to me before bed. But he was not like many other parents, for he did not read children's books. Instead, he read to me some of the greatest works of literature, from engaging modern novels to renowned classic tales. Of all these, some of my favorites came from a massive, dusty old book containing the complete works of one of the most amazing writers of all time, Edgar Allan Poe. As a child, I could not comprehend much of his use of old English, yet I could always see Poe's message. Some of my favorites were The Telltale Heart and The Pit and the Pendulum. Today, I use Poe as an inspiration for my own writings, which could be described as horror as well. Since I am older now, I am able to delve deeper into the inner workings of his stories and poetry, and have discovered a whole new world of literature. Some of his greatest works include my three favorite poems, “Sonnet – To Science,” “The Conqueror Worm,” and, of course, “The Raven.”

    Call me a nerd, but I've always been a scientist at heart. Growing up watching the Science Channel with my dad, along with possibly every great sci-fi movie ever created, has left me with a profound fascination with all things which we do not understand. This is the reason why Poe's “Sonnet – To Science” speaks so clearly to me. This is not the traditional Shakespearean sonnet we have all heard, as it is without a hint of iambic pentameter, and often strays from the rule of ten syllables per line. I feel this is a much freer form than the restrictive traditional sonnet, for poetry should not be shaped by such strict and rigid guidelines as these sonnets enforce. But it is not only the form which calls me to Poe's sonnet; perhaps more importantly is the message of the piece, as it describes the inner turmoil which I have felt many times, being both a writer and a scientist. Though I study science avidly, I find sometimes that it takes away some of the beauty of the literary world with the way that it shapes my mind into a machine of cold fact and unbiased truth. Science “preyest thou thus upon the poet's heart,” as spoken by Poe so mournfully. How can my literary soul cheer for the triumphs of Odysseus when the serious scientist of my mind reminds me constantly of his adultery with Calypso? How can I cry over the forbidden love of a Montague and a Capulet, when the coldness of science tells me they are only a pair of spoiled teenagers too young to understand true love? A “vulture,” Poe calls science, “whose wings are dull realities.” This metaphor illustrates perfectly the paradoxical nature of truth and beauty, the violent dance of science and poetry. It is for this reason I have always loved to read “Sonnet – To Science.”

    A poem I have become acquainted with only recently is Poe's “The Conqueror Worm.” This piece is written in the fairly uncommon form of iambic heptameter (more commonly known as a “fourteener”), though each line is broken up into two smaller lines containing between three and five iambic feet each so as to fit the ababcbcb rhyme scheme. Each stanza contains four “fourteeners.” The form is interesting, but the first time I read the piece I could only see the beautiful and sorrowful story which it told. It narrates a gathering of angels to see a play, “Man,” the story of the human race. The humans are portrayed as gliding mimes, who are “puppets” controlled by some outside force, perhaps fate or God. The play's dire plot is of “Madness, and more of Sin, / And Horror.” This is how much of humanity had played out, countless wars sparked by our mortal flaws. Then, at the end, an enormous, “blood-red” worm appears and begins devouring the mimes. This is a metaphor for some devastating event, perhaps brought upon ourselves like a nuclear bomb, perhaps something uncontrollable like a plague. After all the mimes have been eaten by the Conqueror Worm, the curtain, “a funeral pall,” which symbolizes the inevitable death of humanity, falls on the stage. The angels say the Conqueror Worm is the hero, for he has rid the world of the sinful disease which mankind has become. This disturbing and chilling revelation is what makes the poem linger in the reader's mind long after it has ended. It is this that makes it an amazing work of literature.

    It would be pointless to write of Poe's literary genius without discussing “The Raven.” This, his most famous poem, is a masterpiece of meter, rhyme, symbolism, alliteration, and repetition which no other can match. It tells of death, grief, and hopelessness. It begins as the narrator is interrupted from his “sorrow for the lost Lenore,” probably some recently deceased girlfriend or wife, by a tapping at his door, which he opens to find there is no one there. When the tapping sounds again, he instead checks the window, and to his surprise in steps an ominous raven. The narrator laughs at his fear of the noise, and upon jokingly asking the raven its name is startled when the bird replies calmly, “Nevermore.” The narrator reasons that it must have learned the word from a previous owner, and he begins to speak idly to it. However, the bird's unceasing answer of “Nevermore,” begins to frighten him, and he asks in a fit of terror whether he will one day see his beloved Lenore in Heaven, to which the bird again replies, “Nevermore.” He becomes angry, and orders the bird to leave; “Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.' ” The raven is a symbol for our doubt in Heaven and God, a chilling voice at the back of our minds saying the dead are gone forever. The constant rhyme scheme of abcbbb emphasizes the repetition of words rhyming with Lenore, a metaphor for the way a dead loved one's name echoes constantly in the minds of those who grieve for them. This poem is the perfect example of how meter and rhyme, when used correctly, can serve not as restrictions on poetry but as tools to provide emphasis to the themes of the piece.

    “Sonnet – To Science,” “The Conqueror Worm,” and “The Raven” are some of the most well-written poems of all time, true literary masterpieces representative of Poe's genius. Their utilization of such literary devices as figurative language, rhyme, repetition, and meter in a way that helps to show the reasons Poe wrote each of them is what makes them so timeless. These poems, when the reader is able to look past the old English to see the true meaning of the words, leave an imprint on each of them which will stay with him or her forever. I know that I would not be nearly the writer I am today if not for the inspiration I have received from Poe and his works. I have grown up reading his stories and poems, and I expect to continue to do so for the rest of my life. From the cold beauty of science, to the flaws of humanity, to grief for a loved one, there is no topic which Poe cannot illustrate in his intricately-designed poems, which is the reason I have always found him to be perhaps the greatest poet of all time.

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    I love Poe also, and used to have a huge volume of his work, maybe I still have it. What about his poem "Annabelle Lee"? I really like that one. He didn't use old English, that was way before his time. I'm glad you grew up hearing those stories, that's very special.

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    Quote Originally Posted by KCurtis View Post
    He didn't use old English, that was way before his time.
    Thank you for alerting me of that, I seem to have confused Old English with Elizabethan English.
    If we find the answer, it would be the ultimate triumph of human reason-- for we would know the mind of God.

    -Stephen Hawking

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    Registered User Jassy Melson's Avatar
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    I once got into an almost violent argument with a fellow undergraduate who had the nerve to say that a hundred years from now Poe would be forgotten, but Shelley is timeless. I think it's the other way around. Does anyone really read Shelley nowadays--except in basic composition courses where it's required. In my opinion, Shelley's wife Mary has eclipsed Percy the poet. She created the immortal Frankenstein, while Shelley created who? Poe was a pioneer in literature. He lived and wrote about fifty years ahead of his time. A hundred years from now, Percy Shelley will be forgotten, but Poe will still be read.
    Dostoevsky gives me more than any scientist.

    Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world. - Albert Einstein

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