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Original Title:	The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe
ISBN:	0385074077 (ISBN13: 9780385074070)
Edition Language:	English
Setting:	United States of America

The Complete Stories and Poems

Edgar Allan Poe

Hardcover | Pages: 821 pages

Rating: 4.39 | 204937 Users | 2020 Reviews

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Title	:	The Complete Stories and Poems
Author	:	Edgar Allan Poe
Book Format	:	Hardcover
Book Edition	:	Anniversary Edition
Pages	:	Pages: 821 pages
Published	:	August 15th 1984 by Doubleday & Company, Inc. (first published 1849)
Categories	:	Fiction. Young Adult. Childrens. Mystery. Fantasy. Middle Grade. Adventure

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I’ve been reading this book for almost three years and it feels so good to finally have finished it! I was surprised by what I found in here. Poe was slightly different to what I thought. He is very much shrouded in shadow and the macabre, at least, his more successful stories and poems were. But there were also some very basic stories in here, some that felt like they weren’t even written by the same person. For every great piece of literature, there were two mediocre ones. I disliked the crime stories in particular. The best ones, for me, were the ones where the narrator laments a lost love on the cusp of insanity: these stories were simply beautiful. Here’s my top two, the only two I consider to be literary perfection: The Raven Shall we descend into madness? Shall we be haunted by our own desires? Shall we be consumed by that terrible facet of life known only as death? Shall we cling to what cannot be reanimated? Shall we wish for a return of something that has long been in darkness? Shall we become obliterated by the brutal finality of such a statement as “nevermore?” Lenore has gone. She has departed from this life, and is permanently out of the reach of the man. The raven represents the solidarity of this. Despite how much he longs for the impossible, despite how much he hopes for something that could never occur, he still has that inclination that the fantastical could happen: he has to believe that she could come back. And the raven represents the voice of reason, the voice of actuality. And it kills him. It is pain, despair, melancholy and a spiritual death all rolled into one haunting feathery package. He rebels against this voice of rationality. He knows the voice speaks the truth, but he cannot simply accept it. He has lost something vital; he has lost part of himself that will never grace his presence again. And he clings to hope, a false hope such as it is. The raven smashes this to oblivion; it destroys any last semblance of the miraculous occurring. It makes the man realise that this is life, not some whimsical world where nothing bad ever happens. People die. People we love die. Nothing can change that. Lenore will never walk through his chamber door again, and the reality drives him into madness. It shatters his life. ”And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted- nevermore!” His soul will never lift anymore; hope shall never be lifted anymore. By the end of the poem he has full realised the reality of the situation. The raven, the dark bird of harsh truth, the harbinger of the words he simply doesn’t want to hear, has become demonised. It has become the very object he did not want to face; he created a sense of longing to protect himself from the emotional loss of Lenore, and this bubble of falsehood has been burst. Reality sets in, and it is a fate worse than death. It is one of persecution and mental chaos as the bird is simply unable to supply the man with all his answers. He is driven mad by the unknown. The man in the poem has lost “Lenore.” But, what is this Lenore? Is she a woman? Is she this man’s lost love? Or is she something much, much, more? I think on the surface level of the poem she is his dead wife. But the archaic references speak of something else. Lenore could perhaps be a universal suggestion of a lost sense of self or even humanity. We are no longer what we once were. It is also rather significant that the man is persecuted only by the natural world. Very much in the Romanticism vein, man stands aside from nature. He has become something different with his modernisation and industrialisation. He walks outside his nature. And Poe, being an anti-transcendentalism thinker (a dark romantic), demonstrates that life isn’t all sunshine and roses, and nor could it ever be. It is pessimism in full force, and although I strongly disagree with the outlook on life, and appreciate the idealistic utopia offered in the poetry of Percy Shelley and other Romantics much more, I do love the dark beauty of this poem. The finality of the phrase “nevermore” is nothing short of maddening reality for our lost man. It is the end of hope. Ligeia If a mind has found the most true and profound bliss what happens when it’s taken away? Well, the simple answer is it doesn’t work anymore, at least not very well. The narrator of this marvellous short story experiences a whole host of emotions and mental states after his loss. Firstly, he is hit with the expected wave of melancholy fuelled by his understandable grief; secondly, he feels the slow calm breeze of acceptance; thirdly, and finaly, he is savaged by an unrealised state of delusion and fantasy. In this, Edgar Allan Poe demonstrates his true mastery of writing a character in different states of mental stability. Needless to say, he’s a remarkable writer. In beauty of face no maiden ever equaled her. It was the radiance of an opium-dream - and airy and spirit-lifting vision more wildly divine than the phantasies which hovered about the slumbering souls of the daughters of Delos. Yet her features were not of that regular mould which we have been falsely taught to worship in the classical labors of the heathen.” The narrator cannot be blamed for his fragility. He has lost his world: he has lost his beloved Ligeia. She was everything to him, and they both knew it. Nothing could lessen the blow of her death; nothing could take the pain away of her upcoming demise: nothing could save his mind in a world without her. They were living in harmony; their souls had achieved happiness and love; they were two lesser beings of one greater soul: they were at peace in their own transcendental plane, until she died. So, the narrator’s sense of self awareness and actuality has been destroyed. He is left with the tatters of a wonderful experience, and his own delusion. I recommend looking at the following quote and considering exactly who is speaking, and why he would conjure up such an image. Perhaps, he didn’t fantasise this. Maybe this is paranormal. I do love the multiplicity of its interpretation. This short story is a marvel. It appears confusing and contradictory, but if you stop and consider who is actually speaking then its true nature is revealed. Admittedly, on my first read I was a little lost, though after a second read I began to see it for what it was. This is not as approachable as some of Poe’s other works, and it really isn’t an advisable starting point for the author. But, the short story is wonderful, truly wonderful. It highlights the working of the mind in a state of sheer depravity; it is disturbing and brilliant. Postscript It seems to me that the more popular stories were the more effective ones. The only one with little renown that was brilliant was Ligeia. I’m glad I read the entire thing, but some of the works were entirely forgettable. There two, though, will be works I certainly will be reading again in the future.

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Ratings: 4.39 From 204937 Users | 2020 Reviews

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An influence on an array of artists from Jean Cocteau and Baudelaire to William Burroughs, Federico Fellini and the recently departed Lou Reed, Edgar Allan Poe was a writer of great import to not only America but the world. Yesterday, after spending all of the earlier part of this month immersed in the poetry and tales of Poe, I finally made by way to Poes The Imp of the Perverse, one of a handful of his stories that I had a previous acquaintance with, having read it many years ago after seeing

I'm going for a 3.5 stars. I must be the only person in the known world that hasn't 5 starred Poe. I figured I would be a 5 star. Either way, I'm just going to list the stories and poems I did enjoy. Although, I can't read my handwriting so now I have to go through the book. Well, I guess I could just look at the Contents at the front. Duh, if I can still read my handwriting. I don't know why I wrote it on freaking post-its! Stories1. The Murders In The Rue Morgue2. The Mystery of Marie Roget3.

Definitely not light reading, but perfect for the fall and winter. My grandmother bought this leatherbound collection for me when I was 12 or so and it took me 5 years or so to read it in its completion. I have to be in the mood to read Poe, but when I am it's the best reading in the world. Very dark and poetic. Great stories, and each story is just short enough to maintain attention span. I recommend this to anyone who appreciates a challenging read.

Not many people outside of literary study or detective fiction fandom realize that the character of Sherlock Holmes was inspired by Poe's Dupin. Dupin was the brilliant and insightful idle noble who occasionally aided the authorities in particularly difficult cases. However, unlike Holmes, Dupin took it up merely as a hobby, mimicking Holmes' brother Mycroft.I'm not fond of Poe's poetry. Emerson's leveling of 'Jingle Man' is appropriate. Poe puts sounds together, but usually says very little

This is one of the only books I have left that belonged to my grandfather and it's one of the best. It contains stories and poems by Edgar Allan Poe. Sections include: Tales of Mystery and Horror, Humor and Satire, Flights and Fantasies, The Narrative of A. Gordon Pym of Nantucket, and many poems including Annabel Lee, Alone, and my favorite, A Dream Within a Dream. 5*****

Edgar Allan Poes stories are the tales told by the raven on the longest winter night long after midnightOpen here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber doorPerched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber doorPerched, and sat, and nothing more.Though it is impossible to name the most

The samples here are of stories which we would now class as "horror" or "suspense", but which Poe submitted to the public mainly as essays. The Premature Burial (1844) by Edgar Allan Poe purports to be a factual account or essay. It tells of several cases where a person suffering from catalepsy was buried alive, some of which were discovered in time, some not. There is a strong attempt on the part of the narrator to convince the reader that, "truth can be more terrifying than fiction," in order