Being Halloween, it is only fitting to write about one of the pioneers of the classy horror genre. Edgar Allen Poe is a man who lives on in his work. As a sophomore in college, reading "The Tell-Tale Heart" still makes me squirm, and "The Raven" messes with people's minds in a way that makes the "Don't Hug Me I'm Scared" series seem like pretentious film students trying to be edgy. I mean that's what it is, but Poe's work puts it in its place. As many know though, Poe wasn't appreciated very well in his own time. Most of the greats weren't. It's sad to think about how he never got to know how many people, young and old, in the modern world read his short stories with enthusiasm.
In high school, I had a friend who admired the 1980s. Needless to say, she had poor taste in fashion, but she listened to some pretty good music and watched some corny movies good for a laugh. Something about her though was just always drawn to that decade. She admired everything about that. She'd cry over her Duran Duran poster as she'd say "I was born in the wrong generation."
Had Poe been able to seen into the future, I believe he would have said that exact same thing. The feelings that people in his time had toward him I'm sure were mutual. He was beyond their way of thinking. Which is why he kept writing. I think Poe knew that people in the future would eventually grow fond of his work. He just didn't know when or who.
Bottom line:
Edgar Allen Poe would have been a punk.
Let the wild of that statement soak in for a moment before continuing.
Good? Alright, think about it. Punk culture, at least those who are actually a part of it and not just looking to have a bright hair style while harassing people, winds down to one solid point: a giant middle finger to society. Look me in the screen and tell me Edgar Allen Poe wouldn't have jumped right on board with that.
All of his stories defy what was expected of writers. He never failed to leave an element to disturb the reader and make the squeamish uncomfortable. Now go watch a music video to a 90's Green Day song. It's the same thing, albeit, without appealing the sense of sound.
Imagine though, an Edgar Allen Poe born in the year 1970, reaching his adulthood just before the turn to the 90's. A world where collaboration could have occurred between him and the Smashing Pumpkins. "The Fall of the House of Usher" written with a few extra curses set to grunge-heavy-distorted guitar. I challenge you to tell me this wouldn't be fitting.
Alas, Poe was not born in 1970. He was born a few years earlier. But his work still lives on, and now the wide audience of modern punks who double as literary historians can appreciate both sorts of work together. Thank you for the stories, Poe.
And as I close this article, I'll leave a poem I wrote about "The Raven".
Lost in a world far beyond my reach
'Twas so long ago, yet feels so close
I hear the tapping, I see the bird
How is this possible when I am alone
I'm in his future, his far distant world
He couldn't possibly be speaking to me
The raven can't follow me, he can't be here
But I can feel it following me
I read evermore
The tapping grows, it can't be real
I feel the struggles, my own Lenore
It tears me apart as I cringe in fear
Forcing myself to read on as I know it's just a story
Just a story
Nothing more
And so I read
Evermore
