Blog-o-ween 2023: Edgar Allan Poe

It’s 28 October. It’s getting late in the day, kiddies. The last handfuls of sand are beginning to trickle through the neck of our hourglass. There doesn’t seem to be enough time to talk about all the stories that we here at LARPing Real Life still have on our agenda for Blog-o-ween 2023. So, let’s stop fooling about and get down to the nitty and the gritty...

Nooooo...that’s Al Capone’s enforcer, Frank Nitti, and the other fellow (the one on the right) is the mascot for the Philadelphia Flyers (and known hell demon), Gritty. Nice try, though.

Anywho...we’ve got six stories on deck today for Blog-o-ween. SIX! What better way to celebrate Halloween than with the stories of everyone’s favorite emo kid, Edgar Allan Poe? Eddie was definitely one of America’s earliest adherents to the maxim “Everyday is Halloween.” Unfortunately, he was also a lover of the adage “It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere.” So, let’s raise a glass to Edgar and jump right into the festivities without any further ado...

First up is a story about a gated community whose residents think they are above things like the plague and death. Why worry about getting vaccinated and masking up when you can party like it’s 1399? Let’s see how the other half dies in “The Masque of the Red Death.”

Prince Prospero is throwing a kegger for all his bros (and a few hoes) at his castle. They aren’t so much celebrating as they are just simply waiting out the plague that is ravaging the country. “The Red Death,” as it is known, has swept across the land, causing sharp pains, sudden dizziness, and profuse bleeding at the pores before finally dispatching its victims. Prospero and his friends hope that their wealth and status, along with the walls of their enclave, will protect them. I think the uninvited guest to the prince’s masquerade ball — the one who is tastelessly dressed in a dark, blood-spattered funeral shroud — will have something to say about that. And I don’t think Prospero and his guest will want to hear it.

Next, we have the old, familiar story of one guy and two girls. Classic lover’s triangle, amirite? In this case, however, one of the ladies is dead and...well, actually, both of the ladies are dead in this one. Maybe this isn’t as familiar a tale as I thought. Let’s take a look at the story of “Ligeia” and learn more...

Our narrator has found the love of his life in the Lady Ligeia. She is intelligent and beautiful, with dark eyes and raven-hair. She is also something of a metaphysician. During their brief marriage she begins to introduce her husband to the wonders of forbidden wisdom.

Heh-heh-heh!

But soon, however, Ligeia becomes ill and dies. Don’t worry for our dear narrator. He replaces Ligeia with the fair-haired and blue-eyed Lady Rowena. And when I say “he replaces her,” I mean...well...you’ll just have to find out for yourself.

Our next tale is another old, familiar yarn about love and...dental work? It’s a story with a lot of bite, and one that you can really sink your teeth into. Heh-heh-heh! Let’s read on about young Egaeus and his love for his cousin “Berenice” and her smile.

Egaeus and Berenice grow up in a gloomy castle. (Is there any other kind?) She has an unnamed degenerative illness, which causes her to fall into a kind of catalepsy, and he suffers from a monomania that forces him to fixate on objects. So far, this sounds like a goth version of “The Gift of the Magi.”

As Berenice’s illness ravages the rest of her body, it leaves her teeth looking healthy (and with a pleasant mint flavor, too, I’m sure). Egaeus becomes obsessed with those pearly whites. Berenice dies and is interred. Egaeus sits and thinks about those teeth...about holding those teeth in his fingers...Berenice’s beautiful teeth...Berenice who is buried not too far away...

Them with dentophobia should look away at this point.

Our fourth story is all about mesmerism. It was all the rage in Europe and America when Poe wrote this story in 1845. Sure, making a subject cluck like a chicken is loads of fun, but could hypnosis be a cure for death? Let’s find out by looking at “The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar.”

Ernest Valdemar is dying of tuberculosis. His friend, the narrator, is interested in mesmerism and wants to experiment on Valdemar to see if the (psuedo)science of putting a dying subject into a hypnagogic state can affect the process of death. Valdemar agrees and is soon put under. He dies while in the hypnotic state. As any friend would do under the circumstance, the narrator keeps Valdemar in his trance for over six months. When it comes time to wake Valdemar and release him (and his spirit)...well let’s just say that it gives new meaning to the term “morning breath.”

You still with us? Because we’ve got two tales left. And, boy are they doozies!

Our fifth tale is, perhaps, my favorite of Poe’s stories. Its central image — of a person buried behind a wall — has been used by many makers of Italian “giallo” films, including Lucio Fulci, Sergio Martino, and Dario Argento (who directed a direct adaptation of it). You may be thinking of a certain Montresor who tricks his “friend” Fortunato into accompanying him into the catacombs to have a sip of a very special wine, but I’m not talking about “The Cask of Amontillado.” The story of murder and burial that we’re going to read next is “The Black Cat.”

Our narrator is a happily married man who loves his wife and all animals, especially his black cat, Pluto. Unfortunately, like Poe himself, the narrator also has an unnatural love of alcohol, which causes him to become violent. One night, while chasing the cat with an ax, the man’s wife comes between him and his prey. He buries the ax in her head, then proceeds to bury her body in the wall of the cellar. After he’s done, he cannot find the cat, which is fine so far as he is concerned. The police come sniffing around to search the house. They find nothing...except the preternatural howls of a cat...and it sounds like it is coming from behind one of the basement walls!

Bob Villa and Norm Abram never had this problem.

Okay, Blog-o-weeners, we’ve come to the end of today’s entry. One more story, and I will stop bending your ear. This story is probably Poe’s most famous creation. It is (at the time of this writing) being used as the basis for a certain streaming service’s multi-episodic series. It’s been made by avant-garde filmmakers in France and given the low-budget, high-concept treatment by Roger Corman. It is another tale of isolation, madness, and premature burial. It’s “The Fall of the House of Usher.”

Another unnamed narrator (this guy gets around!) visits his old friend Roderick Usher. Usher wrote to his friend asking him to come and help him pass the time because of an illness he is suffering from. The narrator arrives to find his friend and his sister, Madeline, living in a dilapidated house next to a tarn. The house has a thin crack on its front that stretches from the roof to the ground.

During the narrator’s visit, Madeline dies from an unknown disease, but because she also suffered from cataleptic trances, her body will be interred in the family tomb for two weeks before it is permanently buried. (As you do.)

A week later, a storm rages outside, and as Roderick reads aloud the story of a knight named Ethelred who battles a dragon. During the reading of the story, the narrator and Roderick hear the sounds of cracking and ripping coming from somewhere in the house. Soon, a loud banging is heard, and the door is blown inwards to reveal...

Well, you should really find out for yourself what comes into Roderick’s bedroom and what becomes of the house of Usher.

What can we say about Edgar Allan Poe that hasn't already been drilled into our heads during a junior high English class? He was born in Boston in January, 1809, and he died in Baltimore in October, 1849. In between, E.A. Poe lived a life with as many ups and downs as an Otis elevator, albeit the downs outnumbered the ups by a conservative 4-to-1 margin.

Even in death, the poor man couldn't catch a break. Rufus Wilmot Griswold, an editor, critic, and anthologist, bore Poe a grudge. The tension between the two men stemmed from Poe's attack on Griswold's critical acumen in his 1842 book The Poets and Poetry of America. Later, Griswold replaced Poe as co-editor at Graham's Magazine at a higher salary, something Poe could not stomach. Somehow, even through all this antagonism and aggrievement, Griswold was named Poe's literary executor upon his death, and he used this position to spread lies and destroy Poe's reputation.

Thankfully, Griswold failed at his attempt at literary assassination. Due to the diligence of people who knew Poe well, as well as French critics and writers like Charles Baudelaire, Poe's reputation remained intact, and in fact only grew as the years passed.

Whew! That’s all for today, kiddies. And what a day! So many great stories to accompany you to bed. I just hope that Uncle Edgar’s stories don’t scare you to death. But not to worry. We won’t permanently bury you until we are absolutely sure you’re dead. We’ll give you the old mirror-under-the-nose check and the needles-in-between-the-toes test. We are nothing if not scientific and thorough. In the meantime, we’ll place you in the family tomb deep in the catacombs beneath the castle. There, you’ll be stretched out on a bier in the dark. And if you aren’t really dead, well, at least you’ll have a quiet place to rest and to relax and to have...pleasant dreams? Hmmmm? Heh-heh-heh!