TMK: The Poe-Lovecraft Connection
Posted: 2009-04-29 03:22pm
So, I'm bored and I have to write a creative paper for college. I've decided to throw some of it up here and will probably abandon it when class is over! I'm trying to combine some elements of Edgar Allen Poe with the works of H.P. Lovecraft, so I present my earliest attempt:
Blargh, my formatting!@
Rain poured from the heavens in sheets as grey as slate, thunderous bursts following quickly the infrequent flashes of lightning. Edgar stood motionless, the leaden sheets of rain pouring upon him, the water barely masking his dour expression. With nary a sound Edgar watched as his recently departed Virginia Eliza Clemm Poe was entombed in the Valentine family vault. As Edgar silently gazed upon this macabre spectacle he thought to himself, “how could his every love and stability be taken by consumption, why did he have to suffer, and how could he prevent this from reoccurring”. Seemingly infinite hours had passed, the burial long since concluded, leaving Edgar alone in the now clear evening. Nearly overcome with despair Edgar had almost ignored the bitter chill that wracked his soaked frame, with this sudden realization, Poe remarked aloud, “my dearest love, now my all purpose lies with you in granite”.
Lost and tormented by his growing depression, Edgar returned to his home, a building that exuded a sense of dread and despair. His imagination likened his now empty home to a great maw consuming his will. With Herculean effort Edgar willed his body into the home which now tormented him so, failing to notice a recently arrived letter conspicuously placed upon the porch. Escaping the January chill, Poe sought the one respite left to him; whiskey was now his only solace. Edgar drank copiously and remarked “My love has been consumed and left me empty, as I in turn consume this, leaving the bottles empty”, leaving his final sober utterance with a darkly humorous tone highlighted by the glimmer of the fireplace reflecting the emptiness of both bottles and his spirit.
Thin rays of grey sunshine weakly shone through the window, dimly illuminating a slowly sobering Edgar Allen Poe. The weak light came as a comfort, distracting him from the interminable pounding coming from within is head. Slowly he rose, to seek what nourishment he could from his bare cupboards. Finding little, but being thankful of the uplifting effects of his meager meal, Edgar began to contemplate what further maladies his life held in wait, thus sending him further into sadness and despair. Returning to the den, Edgar noticed what appeared to be a letter resting on the porch, illuminated not by the featureless slate morning, but seemingly by some otherworldly essence. Ignoring the long since extinguished fire and bitter cold, Edgar stood upon his porch, intrigued, and retrieved the letter and examining the contents. Shortly after opening the envelope and examining the contents, Edgar became aware of the fine vellum manufacture of this stationary. He was hit with a sudden wave of unexplainable dread upon opening the envelope as its seemingly benign contents (a letter) emanated some otherworldly aura. Passing off the effects as merely a hangover, Edgar read the contents of the letter…
“Dearest Cousin Edgar,
I have only recently come to learn of you and your heart wrenching loss and the despair suffered by you in these recent years. I would be pleased to meet you, my longest lost cousin, and wish for you to find respite from your ills and join me in recuperation at my estate in Dunwich, Massachusetts. Together with my family we may find a course of action to restore your lost love to you. Enclosed are further instructions and arrive at your convenience.
Sincerely,
Marcus D. Poe”
Blargh, my formatting!@
Rain poured from the heavens in sheets as grey as slate, thunderous bursts following quickly the infrequent flashes of lightning. Edgar stood motionless, the leaden sheets of rain pouring upon him, the water barely masking his dour expression. With nary a sound Edgar watched as his recently departed Virginia Eliza Clemm Poe was entombed in the Valentine family vault. As Edgar silently gazed upon this macabre spectacle he thought to himself, “how could his every love and stability be taken by consumption, why did he have to suffer, and how could he prevent this from reoccurring”. Seemingly infinite hours had passed, the burial long since concluded, leaving Edgar alone in the now clear evening. Nearly overcome with despair Edgar had almost ignored the bitter chill that wracked his soaked frame, with this sudden realization, Poe remarked aloud, “my dearest love, now my all purpose lies with you in granite”.
Lost and tormented by his growing depression, Edgar returned to his home, a building that exuded a sense of dread and despair. His imagination likened his now empty home to a great maw consuming his will. With Herculean effort Edgar willed his body into the home which now tormented him so, failing to notice a recently arrived letter conspicuously placed upon the porch. Escaping the January chill, Poe sought the one respite left to him; whiskey was now his only solace. Edgar drank copiously and remarked “My love has been consumed and left me empty, as I in turn consume this, leaving the bottles empty”, leaving his final sober utterance with a darkly humorous tone highlighted by the glimmer of the fireplace reflecting the emptiness of both bottles and his spirit.
Thin rays of grey sunshine weakly shone through the window, dimly illuminating a slowly sobering Edgar Allen Poe. The weak light came as a comfort, distracting him from the interminable pounding coming from within is head. Slowly he rose, to seek what nourishment he could from his bare cupboards. Finding little, but being thankful of the uplifting effects of his meager meal, Edgar began to contemplate what further maladies his life held in wait, thus sending him further into sadness and despair. Returning to the den, Edgar noticed what appeared to be a letter resting on the porch, illuminated not by the featureless slate morning, but seemingly by some otherworldly essence. Ignoring the long since extinguished fire and bitter cold, Edgar stood upon his porch, intrigued, and retrieved the letter and examining the contents. Shortly after opening the envelope and examining the contents, Edgar became aware of the fine vellum manufacture of this stationary. He was hit with a sudden wave of unexplainable dread upon opening the envelope as its seemingly benign contents (a letter) emanated some otherworldly aura. Passing off the effects as merely a hangover, Edgar read the contents of the letter…
“Dearest Cousin Edgar,
I have only recently come to learn of you and your heart wrenching loss and the despair suffered by you in these recent years. I would be pleased to meet you, my longest lost cousin, and wish for you to find respite from your ills and join me in recuperation at my estate in Dunwich, Massachusetts. Together with my family we may find a course of action to restore your lost love to you. Enclosed are further instructions and arrive at your convenience.
Sincerely,
Marcus D. Poe”