Poe – Writer and Poet

Edgar Poe

I thought it was about time I did an article on Edgar Allan Poe. He has influenced many great writers and without him literature as we know it today would not be the same.

Edgar Poe was born in Boston, Massachusetts, January 19 1809. His parents were only around for a year or two after he was born. His father left and his mother died a year later, making Edgar an orphan. He was taken in by a Frances and John Allan, but never formally adopted, his name became Edgar Allan Poe. In young adult-hood Edgar became more and more interested in writing. Poetry was the form of writing that Edgar seemed to be most fond of before he decided to try his hand at stories. Much of Edgar’s work has a dark romanticism about it. Edgar Allan Poe died October 7th, 1849 under mysterious circumstances.

Here are some interesting facts that you may not of known about Edgar Allan Poe:

The first thing Edgar published was in 1827, a pamphlet of poems, most of which were written when he was 14.

Edgar was poor majority of his life.

The Raven was Edgar’s most successful poem. The Raven came about when he was trying to set himself a personal challenge of writing a 100 line poem. He in fact wrote 108 lines.

The creation of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was inspired by a french detective that Edgar wrote about.

Edgar married his cousin Virginia when she was 13 and he was about 26 or 27. The marriage lasted 11 years until she died.

He joined that army at one stage under the false name of Edgar. A. Perry

Edgar Allan Poe was actually considered quite handsome by many people, only in his final years did he grow more facial hair and have a permanently brooding look about him.

Edgar Allan Poe had a rival and his name was Rufus Griswold. Edgar didn’t have a very high opinion of Rufus and questioned his literary integrity.  Rufus managed to succeed Edgar by becoming the editor of Graham’s magazine. After Edgar’s death, Griswold decided to write an obituary and also a false biography depicting Edgar to be a raving drunk mad-man.

Many theories exist on why Edgar died. He was discovered on a Baltimore street wearing someone else’s clothes October 3rd. Edgar woke days later at the Washington Medical College where his final words were: “Lord, help my poor soul.” Some of the theories surrounding his death include: Alcoholism, heart disease, drugs, rabies, suicide, murder and a brain tumor.

Edgar Allan Poe loved cats and they loved him. Supposedly he had a tortoiseshell cat named Caterina that died two weeks after he did.

Edgar was buried in an un-marked grave. Rumours and gossip started to spread and finally a tombstone was ordered, strangely enough though it was destroyed in a train accident.

Some writing by Edgar Allan Poe that you should check out:

Poems

The Raven                A Dream Within a Dream          The Bells               Lenore

The City in the Sea           Tamerlane          Eulalie                 To Helen                 

The Conqueror Worm            The Haunted Palace        

   Ulalume          Annabel Lee                     Eldorado                 Al Aaraaf

Stories

The Murders in the Rue Morgue             The Oval Portrait             The Tell-Tale Heart

The Black Cat               Morella              The Premature Burial                           Ligeia                    

The Purloined Letter              The Gold-Bug               The Imp of the Perverse

The Fall of the House of Usher             The Pit and the Pendulum          

The Masque of the Red Death

The Cask of Amontillado             Hop-Frog         

The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether

A Descent into the Maelstrom              

The Facts in the Case of M. Vlademar                         

Bell Night

More of Departure in the Night

Here is more of Departure in the Night. Let me know what you guys think.

A looming resonance thickens as the wooden hands meet, as if pressing the colder frost, like minuscule spider webs on the not so familiar glass. Twelve chimes mark the opening of a door and a departure in the night. For beyond the sight of the soft candle light where imp shadows play with the imagined un-night, lays deeper murks with a thousand eyes.

From vast realms and dim night places do they speak their horrid language, as a queer song whispered from some dark corner or half imagined nightmare. From those dark portals of abbadon, beneath and behind do they appear, drawing the eye and vanishing as soon as a sentient gaze fixes upon them.

A cloak of dark dressed those macabre creatures; those that hide in travellers peripheries, in the echoes of their footsteps upon the damp stone sidewalks, and most of all in the street lamps that fail within solitary proximity.

A mesmeric tone of deep greys and brown black pursue and corrode my quiet mind. Drawing in the lost wisdom and memories of some yester life once lived, before my only known incarnation. Like one breathes in poppy smoke from the air.  The imaginary tendrils of night lurking somewhere unseen.

 Instinct and reason deviate as the rhythmic footsteps hasten. Only a small and fleeting sanctuary can be found in the night, that of the gas lamps cold light that spot this slumbering city swallowed by fog. Beyond my temporary flickering halo the impossibly black backdrop can only be infinitely vast.

 Not until sanctuary of a familiar door and behind it the hearth, do my invented watchers withdraw.

Mykh Wulves

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Departure in the Night

I thought I would put up something slightly different up for a change. Here is something a friend of mine wrote. He would really like some honest feedback. Let me know what you think.

A looming resonance thickens as the wooden hands meet, as if pressing the colder frost, like tiny spiders webs on the not so familiar glass. Twelve chimes mark the opening of a door and a departure in the night. For Beyond the sight of the soft candle light where imp shadows play with the imagined un-night, lays deeper murks with a thousand eyes.

A cloak of dark dressed those macabre creatures; those that hide in travelers peripheries, in the echoes of their footsteps upon the damp stone sidewalks, and most of all in the street lamps that fail with solitary proximity. The imaginary tendrils of night lurking somewhere unseen. Instinct and reason deviate as the rhythmic footsteps hasten. Not until sanctuary of a familiar door and behind it the hearth, do my invented watchers withdraw.

Mykh Wulves

 

 

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Brian Lumley – Continuing on the Legacy of H.P. Lovecraft

brian lumley

Brian Lumley was born December 2nd, 1937. Brian started off in the royal military police, and later on after he retired became the author he is today. While doing long shifts he would be reading his favourite literature. These books were usually of the macabre style, some of it good and some of it bad. This is when Brian decided that maybe he could write better than some of the authors works he was reading. His biggest influence and inspiration was H.P. Lovecraft. Brian started writing short stories based ‘after’ Lovecraft. These were published with great success. He then went on to write many other novels and stories. The series of novels that he is probably most famous for is the Necroscope series.

Here are some interesting facts about Brian Lumley that you may not know:

Brian Lumley tried to write under the pseudonym of Hagna S. Grey once, but was told by his publisher no, and that there was nothing wrong with his name. So unlike many authors, he decided to keep writing under his own name.

The death of Brian’s father inspired him to write Necroscope. Brian felt that he had missed out on many conversations with his father while he was alive. …”I would have like to tell him I loved him I suppose. So I went across to his local pub and brought two pints, one for him and one for me. I helped him drink  his, too, and I imagined I was talking to him. I got to tell him some of the stuff I should have told him a long time before. That was the germ of Necroscope. And the rest of it just growed.”

More than 13 countries have now published Necroscope and other stories by Brian Lumley. In America alone Necroscope has sold more than 3 million copies.

Brian Lumley loves to travel and has been to many different countries. These countries include: America, France, Italy, Cyprus, Germany, Malta, Canada, Scotland, Wales and Ireland. Plus many of the Greek Islands.

If you haven’t read anything by Brian Lumley and you are a fan of H.P. Lovecraft than I strongly suggest you pick up one of his books and start reading!

Bell Night