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Edgar Allan Poe 1809 - 1849

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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

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Poes Life Wanted to be a writer: Lord Byron = his inspiration 1826: University of Virginia excelled in classes/racked up enormous debt Fiance dumped him; left Allan home + quit school Joined army First book Tamerlane published when 18yrs.

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West Point Francis Allan dies Reconciliation w/John who gets him into West Point Published another book before going Allan remarries doesnt tell Poe who offended - threatens to get thrown out of WP, which he does, 8 mths in Publishes another book

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Baltimore to Richmond Visits fathers 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

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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 Work

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January 1845: The Raven Raving success! + Buys own magazine 1846: leaves NY - rumors of another woman (married) - wifes ill health - failure of business 1847: wife dies (24 yrs. old) Travels + gives lectures Nancy Richmond (MA), Sarah Whitman (RI), Elmira Royster Shelton (VA)

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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

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Stories & Poems "It was night, and the rain fell; and falling, it was rain, but, having fallen, it was blood.

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http://poestories.com/index.php 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

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Writing Style Haunting & visceral imagery Death, guilt, revenge, and gloomy morbid topics Irony and foreshadowing Unique & intricate vocabulary Repetition Gothic/Dark Romanticism Reaction against transcendentalism Called them Frogpondians after pond in Boston

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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

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The City in the 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.

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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

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Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers- Up many and many a marvellous shrine Whose wreathed friezes intertwine The viol, the violet, and the vine.

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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.

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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;

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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.

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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.

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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.