Pic of the Day 👻

Trick or Treat?

He looks like a treat to me. I hope you’ve had a happy Halloween.

I got the cutest Halloween card from my friend, Susan.

The Raven

The Raven

By Edgar Allan Poe

 

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

            Only this and nothing more.”

 

    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

            Nameless here for evermore.

 

    And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

    “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

            This it is and nothing more.”

 

    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

            Darkness there and nothing more.

 

    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—

            Merely this and nothing more.

 

    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

    “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

      Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

            ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

 

    Open 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 door—

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—

            Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

            With such name as “Nevermore.”

 

    But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

    Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—

    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”

            Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

 

    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store

    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

            Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

 

    But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

            Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

 

    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;

    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

    On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,

            She shall press, ah, nevermore!

 

    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

    “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

    Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

    On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

    “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—

“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

    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!

 

 

Sometimes, there are pieces of literature that are ingrained in your mind with a voice that is not your own. One of those is Linus reciting Chapter 2 from the Gospel of Luke in A Charlie Brown Christmas. Likewise, I can never read “The Raven” without hearing it in Vincent Price’s voice. Christopher Lee also did a famous reading of the poem, but It’s Vincent Price that I would suspect every American of my generation, and possibly the one before, is more familiar with the Vincent Price version. One of my teachers had a record of the Price version, and I have always found it wonderfully creepy, as Vincent Price’s voice always was. His horror movies were dreadful, but Price’s voice is what really made him famous. Take a listen:

"The Raven" was first attributed to Poe in print in the New York Evening Mirror on January 29, 1845. Its publication made Poe popular in his lifetime, although it did not bring him much financial success. The poem was soon reprinted, parodied, and illustrated. Critical opinion is divided as to the poem's literary status, but it nevertheless remains one of the most famous poems ever written.

 

The poem tells of a distraught lover who is paid a mysterious visit by a talking raven. The lover, often identified as a student, is lamenting the loss of his love, Lenore. Sitting on a bust of Pallas (an epithet of the Greek Goddess Athena which recalls her attributes as the goddess of warfare), the raven seems to further antagonize the protagonist with its constant repetition of the word "Nevermore". The poem makes use of folk, mythological, religious, and classical references. Poe claimed to have written the poem logically and methodically, with the intention to create a poem that would appeal to both critical and popular tastes, as he explained in his 1846 follow-up essay, "The Philosophy of Composition."

 

In the essay, Poe traces the logical progression of his creation of "The Raven" as an attempt to compose "a poem that should suit at once the popular and the critical taste." He claims that he considered every aspect of the poem. For example, he purposely set the poem on a, pardon the cliché, dark and stormy night, causing the raven to seek shelter. He purposefully chose a pallid bust to contrast with the dark plume of the bird. The bust was of Pallas in order to evoke the notion of scholar, to match with the presumed student narrator poring over his "volume[s] of forgotten lore." No aspect of the poem was an accident, he claims, but is based on total control by the author.

 

Even the term "Nevermore," he says, is based on logic following the "unity of effect." The essay states Poe's conviction that a work of fiction should be written only after the author has decided how it is to end and which emotional response, or "effect," he wishes to create. Once this effect has been determined, the writer should decide all other matters pertaining to the composition of the work, including tone, theme, setting, characters, conflict, and plot. In this case, Poe logically decides on "the death... of a beautiful woman" because it is "unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world." Some commentators have taken this to imply that pure poetry can only be attained by the eradication of female beauty. Biographers and critics have often suggested that Poe's obsession with this theme stems from the repeated loss of women throughout his life, including his mother Eliza Poe, his foster mother Frances Allan and, later, his wife Virginia.

 

The raven itself, Poe says, is meant to become symbolic by the end of the poem. By the end, Poe wanted his reader to see the Raven as symbolic, but it is not to appear so until the very last stanza when the reader is to see the Raven as symbolic of Mournful and Never-ending. This may imply an autobiographical significance to the poem, alluding to the many people in Poe's life who had died.

 

Poe is widely regarded as a central figure of Romanticism and Gothic fiction in the United States and is best known for his poetry, such as “The Raven” and short stories, particularly his tales of mystery and the macabre. While not all of his writings were Gothic, all of his writing is anchored in Romanticism. The fictionalized portrayals of Poe often show him as a "mad genius" or "tormented artist" while blending depictions of the characters in his stories suggesting that Poe and his characters share identities. I always associate Poe with the macabre aspects of Halloween, which is why I am featuring Poe and his most famous poem today of all days.

 

Happy Halloween!

 

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Easy Week?

Fingers crossed, it’s going to be a relatively easy week. I’m ahead on my class preparations for this week, and other than a few meetings that shouldn’t be too bad, I don’t have anything unusual or stressful on my schedule. Does that mean it will be a relatively easy week? I sure hope so, but sometimes, it’s when my schedule looks the simplest that it turns out to be anything but. So, we’ll see. I hope everyone has a wonderful week.

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Spirituality and Good Works

For I long to see you, that I may impart to you some spiritual gift, so that you may be established—that is, that I may be encouraged together with you by the mutual faith both of you and me.

—Romans 1:11-12

 

The other day, I came across the following clip in which Dolly talks about her spirituality on Person to Person with Norah O’Donnell:

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Dolly may look flashy, and she once said that “It takes a lot of money to look this trashy,” but she has always lived a beautiful life. She may be one of the richest woman in America, but she also donates to many charities. Her Imagination Library is a book gifting program that mails free books to children from birth until they begin school. She’s not calling for books to be banned or that libraries be defunded because they contain books that ignorant people find offensive. No, she is sending out books to children for free. She’s never claimed to be the “best Christian” or told others how they should behave. She has famously refrained from entering the political fray. “I don’t do politics,” Dolly once said. “I have too many fans on both sides of the fence. Of course, I have my opinion, but I learned years ago to keep my mouth shut about things.” Staying out of politics is more than just being a shrewd businesswoman, but she is following Christ’s teachings of not judging others. Some people believe she should be more vocal about politics, especially the way LGBTQ+ people are treated in the South, but she has always shown support in other ways.

In the clip above, Dolly talks about spirituality and living by example. I don’t think you have to be the most vocal person in opposing evil and hateful politics, because some people can do more by living in a way that is an example to others. I think that what Dolly does so well. She’s never pretended to be something she’s not. She was raised dirt poor and through hard work and incredible talent, she has prospered and has made sure she takes care of others along the way.

 

For true Christians, God lives within our hearts. We don’t have to go to church, sit in the front pew, nod along with every word the preacher says, sing, shout hallelujah, or say AMEN the loudest. However, what we do need to do is to live our lives in a way that honors God. By following the teachings of Christ we can do that. Dolly lives the life that James advocated in his Epistle. I want to leave you with a passage from the Epistle of James in which he talks about the best way to practice our faith:

What does it profit, my brethren, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can faith save him? If a brother or sister is naked and destitute of daily food, and one of you says to them, “Depart in peace, be warmed and filled,” but you do not give them the things which are needed for the body, what does it profit? Thus also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.

 

But someone will say, “You have faith, and I have works.” Show me your faith without your works, and I will show you my faith by my works. You believe that there is one God. You do well. Even the demons believe—and tremble! But do you want to know, O foolish man, that faith without works is dead? 

 

For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.

—James 2:14-20, 26

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Moment of Zen: Halloween 🎃

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TGIF

I’m back to my regular schedule and working from home today. It’s been a strange week. Monday and Tuesday were fairly normal days, but Wednesday and Thursday were not my usual. Wednesday, as you know, I stayed home, and I’m glad I did with the reaction I had to the Covid vaccine. I was still not feeling great yesterday, but I needed to go to work and teach my class. After class, I came back home and rested the rest of the day. I’m so glad I’m finally feeling better. I’ll probably spend today working on next week’s lectures, but for the most part, I really enjoy doing that. I probably also need to do some grading. 

I hope everyone has a great weekend. Since it’s the last weekend before Halloween, does anyone have any Halloween events they’ll be going to this weekend? 🎃 I don’t have any plans and don’t expect that to change.

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Rough

I woke up yesterday with nausea and a bad headache. The nausea went away but the headache wouldn’t. I thought that maybe the headache would be my only negative reaction to taking the Covid vaccine. Then around 3 pm, the fever, chills, and body aches began. I was absolutely miserable. I tried to sleep some, but that didn’t help. I ended up going to bed around 7:30 last night. I woke around 10 pm still feeling awful, and eventually, I was able to fall asleep again. About 1 am, I woke up covered in sweat. My fever seemed to have finally broke. Eventually, I was able to go back to sleep, and I slept until my alarm went off at 5 am. I still have a headache but thankfully, no fever. The other times I’ve had a reaction, it lasted a full 24 hours, but this time, I think I got away with only about ten hours of being sick.

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Sick Day

I planned a sick day for today because I got my Covid vaccine yesterday. In the past, I have had fairly rough reactions to the vaccine for about 24-36 hours, but then I’m fine. I’d rather have a day feeling like crap than to have Covid. So far, I have an intense headache, am nauseated, and my arm hurts where I got the shot, but I have not had a fever. In the past, I’ve always had a fever for about a 24 hour period beginning about 12 hours after the shot. This one may be different because in the past, I’ve always taken the Pfizer vaccine, but this time, only the Moderna vaccine was available. So, we’ll see. 

Isabella woke me up to feed her at 5 am when my alarm usually goes off. I decided that I needed to eat breakfast, and then, I might just go back to bed.

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Annabel Lee

Annabel Lee

By Edgar Allan Poe

 

It was many and many a year ago,

   In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

   By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

   Than to love and be loved by me.

 

I was a child and she was a child,

   In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

   I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

   Coveted her and me.

 

And this was the reason that, long ago,

   In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

   My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

   And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

   In this kingdom by the sea.

 

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

   Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

   In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

 

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

   Of those who were older than we—

   Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

   Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

 

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

   Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

   In her sepulchre there by the sea—

   In her tomb by the sounding sea.

 

"Annabel Lee" is the last complete poem composed by American author Edgar Allan Poe. Like many of Poe's poems, it explores the theme of the death of a beautiful woman. In my opinion, "Annabel Lee" is Poe's most hauntingly beautiful poem. The narrator, who fell in love with Annabel Lee when they were young, has a love for her so strong that even angels are envious. He retains his love for her after her death. There has been debate over who, if anyone, was the inspiration for "Annabel Lee." Though many women have been suggested, Poe's wife Virginia Eliza Clemm Poe is one of the more credible candidates. For whoever was the inspiration, it is obvious that Poe truly loved her. Annabel Lee" was written in 1849 but not published until shortly after Poe's death that same year.

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The Week Begins

It’s Monday again, and I’m not completely dreading g the week ahead. I’m sure I will be busy this week, and I have my Covid shot tomorrow (which I generally do not react well to). Other than, not much else is on my schedule other than the usual routine. I hope y’all have a good start to your week and have a wonderful week ahead.

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Know Them by Their Fruits

Therefore by their fruits you will know them.

—Matthew 7:20

 

 

Only two of the sermons Jesus gave were ever recorded in the gospels. Matthew wrote down the more well-known of the sermons, the Sermon on the Mount, and Luke wrote down the lesser-known Sermon on the Plain. The two sermons are very similar, though the order and location of what was said are different. While Matthew groups Jesus' teachings into sets of similar material, the same material is more scattered when found in Luke. The Sermon on the Mount and the shorter Sermon on the Plain occur at the same moment in both Matthew's and Luke's narratives. However, both feature Jesus heading up a mountain, except in Matthew he gave the sermon on his way up the mountain, and Luke says he gave the sermon on the way down at a level spot. Some scholars believe that they are the same sermon, while others hold that Jesus frequently preached similar themes in different places. Whichever it is, the two sermons present the core of Christ’s ministry.

 

I want to focus on two similar passages from both sermons in which Jesus describes two types of people. Both talk about how you can know a good person from an evil person. Matthew 7:16-20 says:

“Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes from thorn bushes or figs from thistles? Even so, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Therefore by their fruits you will know them.”

In Luke 6:43-45, Jesus says:

“For a good tree does not bear bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. For every tree is known by its own fruit. For men do not gather figs from thorns, nor do they gather grapes from a bramble bush. A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil. For out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.”

Often we are asked to turn inward and reflect spiritually on ourselves. Any thoughtful and faithful person should look inwardly at our own spirituality. For me, my faith is a deeply personal experience. I believe that if we are true believers, the Bible speaks to us in a way that comforts us. It doesn’t speak to everyone in the same way. Some look for the negatives and fill their hearts with hate, and others look for the positives and fill their hearts with love. 

 

Even with that said, we do not take our personal journey alone. We are influenced by outside forces and the Christian faith as a whole. If we look at Christianity as an orchard of trees, some of them will bear good fruit and some bad fruit, and Jesus says that we cannot expect good fruit from a tree that has gone bad. If we do not take care of our roots, and our core beliefs, our tree will wither and die. If we do not water our soil, we will perish from malnourishment of our spirit. James 7:15-17 says, “If a brother or sister is naked and destitute of daily food, and one of you says to them, “Depart in peace, be warmed and filled,” but you do not give them the things which are needed for the body, what does it profit? Thus also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” If our branches are withering, we cannot bear good fruit, and if we follow the withering branches, those who preach hate, we will also bear bad fruit.

 

Currently, I believe that the orchard of Christianity is filled with trees bearing bad fruit. The healthy trees are being pushed aside and poisoned by the bad trees. Look at many of the people who loudly profess their faith, and you will see them bearing only bad fruit. They build great churches, have huge congregations, and pay their ministers huge salaries, but are they feeding the hungry, clothing the poor, or providing shelter to the homeless in these great churches? For the most part, the answer is no, and if they are doing those things, they come with certain expectations. You have to believe the way they do. For a long time, the Salvation Army would only feed, clothe, and shelter the homeless as long as they were not LGBTQ+ and fit their idea of a Christian. They still require those who come to them for help to listen to a sermon instead of giving freely.

 

The Christian community does not look at itself as a whole in order to see the problems with our religion today. Many instead only look outward to see the problems with the world around them, but they do not look at themselves. In the ancient Persian religion of Zoroastrianism, they believe in a duality of the universe. They believe that there is a universal war between good (Ahura Mazda) and evil (Angra Mainyu). Zoroastrians believe that when the war is won, Ahura Mazda will be the victor for good always will win out over evil. However, as with any war, one side or the other wins the battles along the way. We know the great evil characters in history, and they seemed to win for a time, but in the end, they were defeated by good.  Likewise, those who preach hatefulness seem to be overpowering Christianity, but I believe that one day, the good that is Christianity will win out. We just have to be diligent. 

 

In war, if you become complacent or become overconfident, you will be defeated. You must conscientiously build and nourish your army. Napoleon Bonaparte is an example of this. When Tsar Alexander I of Russia refused to abide by Napoleon’s policy forbidding trade with Britain, Napoleon began an ill-fated invasion of Russia. He reached Moscow only to find the city abandoned, and a huge fire broke out that same day, destroying the greater part of the town. Since it is impossible to winter in the ruined city, Napoleon begins a retreat in October across the snow-covered plains. The retreat from Moscow is one of the great disasters of military history. Of some 600,000 troops who had set out with Napoleon’s Grand Army in June, fewer than 10,000 men fit for combat remained with his main force by November. A year later, Napoleon’s withered army was defeated at the Battle of Leipzig followed by the loss of Paris and the abdication and imprisonment of Napoleon. Because Napoleon could not provide for his troops, he lost.

 

The same will be true of those in Christianity who preach hate. Eventually, at least I hope, their congregations will realize that their needs have been ignored by the church. The churches I speak of are bad trees and eventually, people will realize that they are only producing bad fruit. They will realize that their trees have not been nourished and will look for ways to heal themselves. It is at this point that the good trees can nourish the bad trees back to health. With the strength of the good trees, they can help the bad trees once again be healthy and bear good fruit, but it will take time. We have to make sure that we care for not just the fruit or the branches of the trees, but the whole tree and ultimately, the whole orchard.

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Moment of Zen: Kissing

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Regular Work Day

Normally, I work from home on Fridays, but today is different. I worked from home in the afternoon on Tuesday and Thursday, because I knew I’d have to go into the office today. There is an event/meeting in the museum this morning, and I have to be in early to let the caterers in so they can set up before the meeting. I usually get to work at 7:30 am (except on my teaching days when I try to get there at 7 am to prepare for class). My coworkers usually arrive after 8 am when we open. I don’t know what they do when I’m not there, probably open late. Anyway, since the caterers are coming at 7:40 and I normally get there at that time, I said I’d work at the museum today instead of my usual WFH day. Sometimes, I’m too nice to my coworkers, who, quite honestly, don’t deserve it. Oh well, hopefully, I’m building up some good karma.

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Busy Morning

I got up early this morning and basically had breakfast, got ready for work, and went to the museum to prepare for my class today. I had some last minute notes I needed to go over. I hope all of you have a great day!

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Overslept

I overslept this morning and forgot to write a post when I got up. I fed Isabella and made some breakfast, but writing a post wasn’t on my mind. I’ll write something for tomorrow.

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Above: Sean Davis @sean395

Alone

Alone

By Edgar Allan Poe

 

From childhood’s hour I have not been

As others were—I have not seen

As others saw—I could not bring

My passions from a common spring—

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow—I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone—

And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—

Then—in my childhood—in the dawn

Of a most stormy life—was drawn

From ev’ry depth of good and ill

The mystery which binds me still—

From the torrent, or the fountain—

From the red cliff of the mountain—

From the sun that ‘round me roll’d

In its autumn tint of gold—

From the lightning in the sky

As it pass’d me flying by—

From the thunder, and the storm—

And the cloud that took the form

(When the rest of Heaven was blue)

Of a demon in my view—

 

 

About the Poem

 

Edgar Allan Poe’s early life was full of tragedy and by the time this poem is thought to have been written, despite his relatively young age, he had experienced a large amount of loss. Poe wrote "Alone" in 1829, shortly after the death of his foster mother, Frances Allan. The poem was not titled or published in Poe's lifetime but was discovered after his death and published posthumously in 1875. Known for his darker-themed works, it perhaps makes sense in this context that where others see a blue sky, he often struggled to see past the “demon in his view.”

 

“Alone” is believed to be autobiographical. The narrator perceives his life and emotions differently to others which has led to him feeling isolated. In the poem, he is questioning why he sees things so differently. The major theme of “Alone” is of feeling isolated, seen as different, and being misunderstood. The beauty and irony of these feelings is one that many people can relate to, and the very act of expressing these feelings through poetry connects Poe with others who feel the same. Poe feels his intense imaginative life is a curse, forever setting him apart from other people. But it's also a blessing, the source of his visionary power.

 

 

About the Poet

 

Along with Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson, Edgar Allan Poe is one of my favorite poets. As with Frost, what might seem to be a simple and straightforward poem has a lot more complexity. Poe always felt he was different, and he struggled to fit in. Poe mostly handled these feelings with destructive behavior, while Dickinson handles her feelings by being a recluse. All three poets expressed their feelings eloquently in their poems. While Frost is not usually known for darker themes like Poe is, he did write a few poems that make you contemplate your own mortality and the choices we make in life. Dickinson has many of the dark themes of Poe, though she is not primarily known for them. Her most famous poem, “Because I Could Not Stop for Death,” is definitely one of her more morbid prose.

 

Edgar Allan Poe was born on January 19, 1809, in Boston. Poe’s father and mother, both professional actors, died before the poet was three years old, and John and Frances Allan raised him as a foster child in Richmond, Virginia. John Allan, a prosperous tobacco exporter, sent Poe to the best boarding schools and, later, to the University of Virginia, where Poe excelled academically. After less than one year of school, however, he was forced to leave the university when Allan refused to pay Poe’s gambling debts.

 

Poe returned briefly to Richmond, but his relationship with Allan deteriorated. In 1827, Poe moved to Boston and enlisted in the United States Army. His first collection of poems, Tamerlane, and Other Poems (George Redway) was published that year. In 1829, he published a second collection entitled Al Aaraaf, Tamerlane, and Minor Poems (Hatch & Dunning). Neither volume received significant critical or public attention. Following his Army service, Poe was admitted to the United States Military Academy, but he was again forced to leave for lack of financial support, and because he may have been kicked out for showing up at formation naked among other mischievous events. He then moved into the home of his aunt Maria Clemm and her daughter, Virginia, in Baltimore.

 

Poe began to sell short stories to magazines at around this time, and, in 1835, he became the editor of the Southern Literary Messenger in Richmond, where he moved with his aunt and cousin Virginia. In 1836, he married Virginia, who was thirteen years old at the time. Over the next ten years, Poe edited a number of literary journals including the Burton’s Gentleman’s Magazine and Graham’s Magazine in Philadelphia and the Broadway Journal in New York City. It was during these years that he established himself as a poet, a short story writer, and an editor. He published some of his best-known stories and poems, including “The Fall of the House of Usher,” “The Tell-Tale Heart,” “The Murders in the Rue Morgue,” and “The Raven.” 

 

After Virginia’s death from tuberculosis in 1847, Poe’s lifelong struggle with depression and alcoholism worsened. He returned briefly to Richmond in 1849 and then set out for an editing job in Philadelphia. For unknown reasons, he stopped in Baltimore. On October 3, 1849, he was found in a state of semi-consciousness. Poe died four days later of “acute congestion of the brain.” Evidence by medical practitioners who reopened the case has shown that Poe may have been suffering from rabies.

 

Poe’s work as an editor, poet, and critic had a profound impact on American and international literature. His stories mark him as one of the originators of both horror and detective fiction. Many anthologies credit him as the “architect” of the modern short story. He was also one of the first critics to focus primarily on the effect of style and structure in a literary work; as such, he has been seen as a forerunner to the “art for art’s sake” movement. Today, Poe is remembered as one of the first American writers to become a major figure in world literature.

Pic of the Day

Monday, Monday

It’s Monday morning, and I don’t want to move from my couch today. I’d rather just stay here and do nothing all day long. Sadly, it’s a work day. I’ve considered calling in sick because I don’t feel well this morning, but I probably won’t. I’ll reassess how I feel a few more minutes and see if I want to go in today or not. If I am going to work, I’ll have to get up, take a shower, and get dressed. I don’t want to do any of that.

Pic of the Day

Strong and Tender

I am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan; you have been very pleasant to me; your love to me was wonderful,surpassing the love of women.

— 2 Samuel 1:26

 

When people talk about the Bible being against LGBTQ+ individuals, one of the things I think about is the verse above. In gay theology, many people claim that David and Jonathan were lovers and gay. If they were, it would certainly not be the only incidence of two male lovers who were in public positions. Plato believed that the love between Achilles and Patroclus in The Iliad had the purest kind of love, that between two men. Alexander the Great had his great love Hephaestion. The Roman Emperor Hadrian was madly in love with Antinous to the point that when Antinous died, Hadrian declared him a god. The list could go on, but those are the most prominent and the list goes on from ancient times forward. 

 

Whether any of these men were gay lovers or not has been a debate for centuries. We will never know for sure because we cannot ask them. In the passage above though one thing is clear: Jonathan and David were two men who deeply loved each other, whether romantic or not. Often, we are taught that a deep love is not a masculine virtue, especially if those two men are both very masculine individuals. The exception is the Greek scholars who followed Plato’s belief that true love can only come from two equals, which in Plato’s time meant two men, not a man and a women because women were inherently inferior to the Ancient Greeks.

 

Gay or straight, people often look disparagingly on men who are more feminine than masculine. You often see “Masc 4 Masc” on gay dating profiles. However, the wider world, i.e, the straight world, doesn’t believe that two masculine men belong together, although they often have no issue with two “less manly” gay men or they think most masculine gay men belong with more feminine gay men. The problem is that we are taught at a young age that gender roles are very rigid. Yet, they obviously are not. Not all gay men are fully feminine and flamboyant or stoic and masculine. Those gender roles mean that men are supposed to be masculine and not show emotion, while women should be feminine and more emotional. Yet, there are sweet and tender masculine men and mean and unemotional queens out there. 

 

There is nothing wrong with being masculine or feminine, no matter what your primary sexual characteristics are. Being masculine does not mean that you can’t love and show emotion. There is nothing wrong with masculinity. It’s toxic masculinity that is the issue. I’ve always called toxic masculinity testosterone poisoning. The problem with masculinity is the belief that masculine individuals cannot show gentleness, affection, or love. This belief creates fear and hatred. It’s why some deeply closeted gay men are rabidly homophobic. If we were not taught strict binary attitudes about male and female, and encouraged people to be who they are, we would likely not have self-hating gays or as many young suicides by LGBTQ+ people. 

 

We need to be who we are, not what is expected of us. Sort of a gentler version of “let your freak flag fly.” The Bible shows us that two strong, decisive, masculine men are capable of loving one another. But more than that, it shows us that love can come in many forms and dynamics. If we are able to be ourselves and express our sexuality and not be tied to strict gender roles, we will be happier individuals.

Pic of the Day

Moment of Zen: Hockey

Jack Hughes (New Jersey Devils)

Here’s a question for my fellow southern transplants to the frigid north: have you found an appreciation for how hot hockey players are? I know nothing about hockey, but I’ve known a few hockey players since moving to Vermont, and they are a sexy bunch. Growing up in the South, I always found football and baseball players hot, and while they have football and baseball up here, hockey is to the North what football is to the South.

Nick Schmaltz (Arizona Coyotes)

Ryan Murray (Free Agent/formerly of the Edmonton Oilers)

Sidney Crosby (Pittsburgh Penguins)

Alexander Wennberg (Seattle Kraken)

Elias Lindholm (Calgary Flames)

Last but not least, Tyler Seguin, who I have always thought was hot even before I knew anything about hockey except that Tyler Seguin is hot!

Tyler Seguin (Dallas Stars)