The Mystery of the Haunted Vampire

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Thursday, October 06, 2005

"Lord, help my poor soul"

It was on this date in 1849 that Edgar Allan Poe died under famously murky circumstances. The Cemetery Project's site on Poe is here; a fun EAP fan site can be found here (warning - annoying music upon the page loading...). The Poe Museum in Richmond, VA is here[*]; the Baltimore Poe Society, here. The National Park Service's page on his Philadelphia home is here. Science fiction, horror, the detective story - I don't know how much longer it would have taken for these to evolve, but Poe certainly pushed them along to what we know and love today. (Both images link to the sites where I found them... The 2nd link points to "The Fall of the House of Usher" translated into Esperanto.) [*] True story time... should you ever visit the Poe site in Richmond, you will get funny looks from the locals if you ask for directions to the po' house. "Nope, I don't think we gots one of those any more". [hat tip to our Anonymous commenter - I'd have forgotten without the reminder]

5 Comments:

Blogger protected static said...

More good links:

UVA's online Poe archive is here.

The Gutenberg Project's Poe collection is here.

Anyone else got any?

10/06/2005 11:47:00 PM  
Blogger Carnacki said...

Great post. I'm glad you compiled that. We could dedicate the entire day to Poe-related posts and comments.

10/06/2005 11:52:00 PM  
Blogger protected static said...

Nevermore! (Sorry, couldn't help it...)

Sure, that's a great idea. It should draw ravin' reviews...

(Okay, I'm stopping now. Really. I mean it this time.)

10/06/2005 11:56:00 PM  
Blogger cookie jill said...

My Telltale Heart told me he died "Raven" mad...

(ba..da...bing...)

10/07/2005 12:47:00 AM  
Anonymous Nell said...

I think I'll read some Poe tonight... My favorite Poe poem.

Dream Within a Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep–while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

10/07/2005 10:58:00 AM  

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