The Early Years Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) created a literary legacy of tragedy and gloom that mirrored the actual events of his life. Orphaned at the age of two, young Edgar was taken in by friends of his mother, John and Fanny Allan, although Edgar was never officially adopted by them. The Allans moved to London, where Edgar began his formal education, but returned to Richmond, Virginia after five years. When he was of age, Edgar joined the Army and entered West Point Academy. While he was there, Fanny Allan died and his relationship with his foster father deteriorated, until John Allan ceased all contact with Edgar. Soon afterward, he was dismissed from the Army for several counts of insubordination. Once the stability of his young life had been torn apart, Poe decided to follow his lifelong passion and pursue a career as a professional writer. Though several of Poe's early works were published, none of them garnered him much recognition in the literary world. In 1845, Poe's poem "The Raven" was first published in the New York newspaper The Evening Mirror. The poem was hailed by critics as a work of genius, earning Poe a respected reputation as a serious writer. In Poe's fictional world, cats could incite a man to unfathomable loathing and violence, vengeful dwarves could literally make monkeys out of kings, and the dead rarely if ever stayed dead. "The Tell-Tale Heart," in which the imagined beating of a murder victim's heart unnerves the murderer enough to make him confess his crime, is perhaps the definitive tale of psychosis and guilty conscience. There is no more memorable study of icy, calculated revenge than "The Cask of Amontillado," in which a character is bricked up alive in a wine cellar. And the eerie, fable-like "The Masque of the Red Death" is probably the quintessential horror story; in it, a rich, haughty prince's masquerade ball in a time of plague is not immune from the menace of the Red Death, for it arrives as the ultimate uninvited guest. While he pioneered the depiction of horror and madness, he also originated the detective story, in which heightened powers of reason and deduction solve bewildering mysteries. "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" and "The Mystery of Marie Roget" were the first examples of the 'story of ratiocination,' and their influence can be felt even in modern day crime novels and police procedurals. Reason and logical analysis were key pillars of Poe's literary life. His voluminous essays and book reviews established his name as an astute, and often harsh critic. He wrote over a dozen articles on cryptography, often challenging readers to send him ciphers which he would then easily crack. In his tale "The Gold Bug," Poe includes a crash-course on code breaking as he describes how the main characters use logic to decipher the directions to a buried pirate treasure. However, while Poe's literary career was on the rise, his personal life was disintegrating into embarrassing chaos and irrationality.
Poe's Decline Despite gaining much critical and popular acclaim, the economic fragility of the magazine business forced Poe to latch onto whatever periodical would have him. He took up residence in first Baltimore, then Philadelphia, then New York, wherever he could find promising work. But his often serious problem with alcohol combined with his innate combativeness as a critic and employee only succeeded in alienating one editor after another. His vicious critical attacks upon Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and other prominent writers of the time outraged the literati. Wherever Poe went, he made enemies and created hard feelings. The spitefulness of his literary demeanor seems inextricably linked to the increasing desperation of his personal situation. He was always in need of money, not only for his sake but also for the sake of his young wife, Virginia, who was dying of tuberculosis. His first cousin on his father's side, Virginia Clemm married Poe when she was only thirteen. He found her childlike innocence and beauty enchanting, and she in turn was devoted to him; their relationship seemed more like that of brother and sister than husband and wife. As his professional life grew more perilous, Virginia became more and more his only source of joy. In a letter to her, he writes, "You are my greatest and only stimulus now, to battle with this uncongenial, unsatisfactory and ungrateful life." On January 30, 1847, that stimulus was removed for good. Virginia was only twenty-five when she died. Poe had lived with the fact of her inevitable death for years, and it haunts his work. The Red Death is a thinly veiled tuberculosis scourge. In "The Oblong Box," a grieving artist lashes himself to the coffin of his dead wife as the ship carrying them both is wrecked by a storm. And despite his claims to the contrary, "The Raven" can be seen as a rehearsal of his own forthcoming grief.
There is no specified reason given in the story. It is possible that Zaroff simply enjoys watching Ivan carry out his brutal hunts, or that he feels that the hunted deserve whatever punishment Ivan sees fit.
I have just finished serving the in-school suspension you assigned me on 11 February, 2021. As I told you when you assigned the punishment, I did not commit the vandalism done to the desk in Mr. Jones’ classroom. I realize this letter will not add any new facts to those on which you based your decision; therefore, it is unlikely to change your mind. I also understand that even if you do come to accept my assertion of innocence, you cannot undo the punishment. Nevertheless, I want to be heard.
The vandalized desk had my name carved into it. It was on that basis that Mr. Jones reported me. I understand why both you and Mr. Jones would suspect me. However, I was not the only person who sits at that desk or who had an opportunity to vandalize it. You asked me why anyone else would have carved my name on the desk. That is, in my view, an unfair question. I suggested that someone might have wanted to get me in trouble. Also, though I didn’t like to make the suggestion, I also thought someone might have carved my name because the person had feelings for me.
Though you made your skepticism clear, you brought in the other students who sit at the desk and asked them if they had done the damage. Each of them denied responsibility. Their denials, unlike mine, satisfied you. You didn’t address the possibility that someone might have come into the classroom and done the damage during a break or some other period when the classroom was empty.
I intend to put this incident behind me once I have delivered this letter to you. Writing my side of what happened is to give me closure.
Answer: Hamlet appears to be despondent and suicidal at the start of the soliloquy. This may be seen in his earnest wish to die, "O! that this too solid flesh would dissolve!"
Explanation: Hamlet is acutely aware, however, that his flesh is firm and durable, and that, no matter how much he loves it, it shows no indication of melting into "dew."
