Monday, October 26, 2015

The Fall of the House of Usher


by Edgar Allan Poe

Link: https://librivox.org/the-works-of-edgar-allan-poe-raven-edition-volume-2-by-edgar-allan-poe/ (Track 8)

Listening Time: 52 minutes

Quote: "There are combinations of very simple natural objects that have the power of thus affecting us..."

Theme: Aristocracy, chronic illness

I still think this ties with "Smith of Wootton Major" for my favorite short story.

When I first read it, I was like: "Wow! I don't even know what all these words mean, but they're really, really pretty!"

I like how this story really makes you pay attention. You read (or this year, I listened) to the beginning of a sentence and by the words you think you have an idea of where its heading, but by the end you're in a completely different place. It's my favorite type of writing: it seems flamboyant at first, but as you read it, it becomes very intentional.

The plot has a kind of mystery to it, one that I think is really satisfying even though Mr Poe never explicitly divulges the whole truth. The descriptions also create a really compelling atmosphere throughout.


  • The House:

It's been said that The Usher House gets so much description and takes up such a large presence in the story, that it's more of a character than the human characters are. I don't know if I agree with that completely, mostly because I'm really fascinated by Roderick and Madeline and what their story might be, but there is certainly more to the house than it existing simply as a memorable attraction.

On the outside, it looks like a total wreck. After describing the whole exterior of the house and the grounds the narrator kinda goes: 'but hey, it's still standing up so that's good!'

On the inside, it's really gloomy. But the narrator can't explain why he finds it so. There are no skulls, or ravens, or cobwebs. No skeletons or sarcophagi...


It's just a house! And it's full of the things you'd expect to find in a house: tables and chairs and maybe a desk, and definitely a few bookshelves. Books and musical instruments (The Ushers are artists). All the stuff wealthy people would have in their houses, but not anything out of the ordinary to the eyes of our narrator.

(He hasn't found the crypt yet ;)

The narrator comes to the conclusion that the gloomy aura must emanate from how all these objects are arranged.

But his friend, Roderick Usher, has another idea: He believes the house is a living, sentient entity that's shaped the destiny of his family for centuries.

At this point, the narrator starts to think his friend neuroses are being exacerbated and exploited by the family doctor. (who he thinks looks like a shady dude)



  • The Family:


When the "peasantry" (basically all the normal people who live nearby) refer to "The House of Usher" they're talking about both the house and the family that lives there. In the public eye, the house and the family are synonymous institutions. He house has been there forever, and the family has lived there forever.

I think it's interesting that Roderick, despite his belief about the vaguely malevolent nature of the house, has no plans or desire to leave it. He's a part of the establishment, and the establishment is such a part of him that he'd lose a big part of his identity of he moved.  I also think it's also likely because he's economically and socially tied to the house, and its/his role in the community there, it's just not practical for him to uproot. Especially when he and his sister are battling this hereditary illness.

Maybe it's because I read it from a modern perspective; where it's a normal thing for families to move around, separate, and grow...but the idea that the house and the family are pretty much extensions of each other is really fascinating:

If the house is a visual representation or extension of the family (or visa versa), then we have two options available to explain what happens to Madeline and Roderick (and the House) at the end of the story.

# 1 is that "The House of Usher" is old and beat up, riddled with disease...they could definitely use some TLC, but there's nothing particularly ominous about them or what's happening to them. They're gloomy and neurotic because they're lonely; they don't have cousins or aunts or uncles or a big extended family to rely on because their ancestors' brothers and sisters all died before they could create nuclear families of their own.

(As far as the Usher line of decent goes...)




#2 is that "The House of Usher" is indeed a malignant entity; or that the house (structure) and the house and the family feed off of each other in some way.



I used to favor the second explanation (and I still kind of do, because it plays into my whole Lizard People theory)...but then I played the "Dark Tales: Edgar Allan Poe" version of the game and it was really silly. I feel bad for it, because all the others in the series that I've played are so good. And the graphics were of such good quality...and the voice actors were awesome...but

it was...

just...

like, it was really dumb:




(They really capitalized on the "vacant eye-like windows" though)

Since then, I've been re-evaluating the first scenario:

For a long time, it was hard for me to accept Roderick's affection for his sister as 100 percent genuine, given his actions later in the story.

But last night at work I was kind of thinking about it. Wait a minute, this is Mr Allan Poe we're talking about! Chronic illness was a big feature of his personal and family life. Dealing with debilitating physical and emotional pain was something he was probably really familiar with. On some days you might feel OK, and you can function, and then the next day you feel so bad you can't get out of bed.  Is it too big a stretch to believe he could relate to the idea of someone who values and cherishes their loved one very much, but is still looking forward (anticipating) their death? Probably not.

(I should note here: I work in a hospital. I get that this is not the type of thing that happens all the time, but to me...when I've just been talking to people who are old or who have suffered with chronic diseases for a long time and then they get a cancer diagnosis...and it's kind of a relief to them. It's a weird dynamic, but it does happen.)

I'm also gonna assume that Roderick was smart enough to pick up on the pattern to his family tree: I can imagine him going on ancestry.com and going "Hmm...Great-Grandpa had a brother, but he died of consumption. And Dad had a sister...and she died with her firstborn. And I have a sister...O wait..."





So maybe Madeline's death has been something he's been preparing for his whole life. And now she's getting sick again, and he thinks it's the last time. In fact, he's pretty much convinced himself that it is her time to let her go.


(Spoilers below: proceed with caution)







Unfortunately for both of them, she's not dead yet!

AND (not surprisingly) she's none too happy with being buried alive...

What's puzzling to me is that it's pretty clear Roderick realizes his mistake pretty early, or at least suspects it. Why didn't he do anything about it?

One possible answer is that he really wants her to be dead, he's been grieving her loss for a really long time and now he thinks he's ready to move on. So when he hears the raping, tapping and scratching (remember his senses are extremely acute) coming from the family crypt (Yeah, they have one IN THEIR HOUSE!! Perfectly normal apparently...)

Yup...he's in denial.

These are my faces for Roderick:




And Madeline:






(Only they're both really sickly and emaciated...)

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