Edgar Alan Po

[Leona]

Edgar Alan Po (Boston, 19. januar 1809. - Baltimor , 7. oktobar 1849.), američki američki književnik, pesnik, urednik literarnih magazina i jedan od najznačajnijih predstavnika američkog romantizma. Edgar Alan Po, za života gotovo nepoznat, postao jedan od najuticajnijih američkih pesnika kada su vrednost njegovog dela otkrili francuski pesnici Bodler, Malarme i Valeri. Njegove kratke pripovetke smatraju se pretečom detektivskog romana.

 

Biografija

 

Njegov otac i majka, Dejvid Po ml. i Elizabeta Hopkins Po (oboje glumci) preminuli su u roku od dve godine (otac 1810, majka 1811.) nakon njegovog rođenja - nakon toga, Po je odveden u Ričmond, gdje je živeo kod Džona Alana, te onda poslan u Englesku gde je od 1815. do 1820. pohađao Manor School u Svindon Njuingtonu. Nikad legalno usvojen, prezime Alan uzeo je kao srednje ime.

 

Godine 1826., Po odlazi na studije na virdžinijski univerzitet pod imenom, ali je izbačen zbog kockarskih dugova, što ga dovodi u svađu s Džonom Alanom koji ga se tada odrekao kao sina. Godine 1827. pridružio se vojsci, lagavši o svom imenu i starosti; 1830. stiže do Vest Pointa, ali je izbačen godinu kasnije zbog neizvršavanja dužnosti.

 

O sledećem periodu Poova života malo se zna, osim da je 1833. živeo s očevom sestrom u Baltimoru. Nakon što je s kratkom pričom Poruka u Boci osvojio 50 dolara, započinje karijeru pisca: u časopisima Sadern literari mesindžer (u Ričmondu, gde je stvarao od 1835. do 1837.), te filadelfijskim Bartonz džentlmenz magazin i Grejemz magazin (1839. - 1843.), izlaze neka od njegovih najpoznatijih dela.

 

Godine 1835, Po se ženi trinaestogodišnjom rođakinjom Virdžinijom Klem, koja će kasnije od posledica tuberkuloze postati invalid, te na kraju i preminuti, što se smatra uzrokom Poovog neobuzdanog alkoholizma. Slavna pesma Anabel Li (1849.) posvećena je Virdžiniji.

 

Njegova prva zbirka, Priče iz Groteske i Arabeske, pojavila se 1840. godine, a sadrži jedno od njegovih najpoznatijih dela, Pad kuće Ašerovih. U ranim četrdesetim godinama 19. veka, izlazi i Školjkareva prva knjiga, njegovo najprodavanije djelo.

 

Mračna poema o izgubljenoj ljubavi, Gavran donela je Pou svetsku slavu kad je izdana 1845, a Ubistva u Rue Morgue te Ukradeno pismo, takođe iz tog perioda, smatraju se Poovim najpoznatijim kriminalističkim romanima. Takođe, bio je aktivan književni novinar.

 

Godine 1848, depresivan i u očaju, Po pokušava samoubistvo. Nakon toga je nakon zabave na putu novoj zaručnici nestao na tri dana. Pojavio se u vrlo čudnom stanju u Baltimoru, gde je i na kraju preminuo 7. oktobra 1849.

 

Dela

 

Poov opus obiluje romanima, kratkim pričama te pesmama i smatra se ogromnim doprinosom svetskoj književnosti, pogotovo u žanru horora i kriminalistike.

 

Kratke priče

Ubistvo

Berenica

Crni mačak

Bačva amontillada

A Descent into the Maelstrom

The Devil in the Belfry

Anđeo svega čudnog

Posed Arnhajm

Eleonora

Činjenice o slučaju gospodina Valdemara

Pad kuće Ušer

Zlatni kukac

Đavo perverznosti

The Island of the Fay

Landorov letnikovac

Krabulja crvene smrti

Mesmeričko otkrivenje

Ubistvo u ulici Morgue

Duguljasti sanduk

Jama i njihalo

Prevremeni pokop

Ukradeno pismo

Tišina

Izdajničko srce

The Thousand-and-Second Tale of Scheherezade

Fon Kempelen i njegovo otkriće

William Wilson

Čovek svetine

Rukopis pronađen u boci

Ligeja

 

Romani

Avanture Artura Gordona Pima

Dnevnik Džulijusa Rodmana

Sfinga

The System of Dr. Tarr and Professor Fether

A Tale of the Ragged Mountains

The haunted Palace

 

Pesme

Sam

Anabel Li

Eldorado

Leonora

Sonet: Tisina

Zvona

Gavran

To Helen

Ulalume

 

Sve je skinuto sa Vikipedije.

 

Sto se mene tice, naj pesme su mi Gavran, Lenora, Zvona, Anabel Li (engleska verzija).

Od prica mi se najvise svidjaju Pad kuce Ushera i Ovalni portret.

 

Ako nadjem nesto vremena, postovacu koju pesmu.

 

Vase mislljenje...?

[Talvi]

Meni je "Gavran" najbolja... Nezavisno od verzije Simpsonovih...

[Sleaze Glammer]

Meni je Anabel Li zakon. razmisljao sam jednom davno da je uradim u rock verziji, nesto kao Skid Row baladu, tipa Wasted Time... Divna pesma... Gavran je, naravno, zakon

[ket]

više mi se sviđa njegova proza nego poezija, odlična je zbirka ,,priče tajanstva i mašte'', mislim da se tako zove, baš sam je davno čitala...

[Rehabilitovani Bagrem]

Meni je "Gavran" najbolja... Nezavisno od verzije Simpsonovih...

Imam repliku originalnog teksta gavrana,na zidu kupljenu kao suvenir u njegovoj rodnoj kuci u Richmondu...Cu uslikam pa da se divite ljudi

[Divlji Tigar]

Edgar Alan Po je bio car.

[Rehabilitovani Bagrem]

You can say that again!

[AGGRESSOR55]

meni se najvise svidja the pit and the pendulum (jama i njihalo?)

 

covek je bio lud 100%

[Nimrod]

meni se najvise svidja the pit and the pendulum (jama i njihalo?)

Bunar i klatno.

Po je legenda,steta sto je rano umro.

 

[Grob Bez Dna]

ima film ''the pit and the pendulum''

[Talvi]

I Rage imaju tu pesmu...

[bokabokaboka]

Meni je Anabel Li zakon. razmisljao sam jednom davno da je uradim u rock verziji

 

To je uradila grupa Kalynda ali u nekoj goth verziji

[Милица]

Imam izdanje Gavrana sa ilustracijama Gistava Dorea, sjajna stvar

Po je genije, neverovatan lik... Volim i njegovu poeziju i prozu, ne mogu da odredim koje mi je od ta dva bolje ili blize.

[Brock Samson]

Проза је боља, дефинитивно. Барем у његовом случају.

[krezavy]

gavra je zakon!!!!!!

kekstra je ono iz dozhivljaja artura gordona pima, kad lik skapava od zhedji i eksira neku kajsiju u potpalublju xyz ladje. daaa i tu neko beshe jede svece u toj pripovetki ili je to bila neke drga.... sve jedno

[Ni!]

ima film ''the pit and the pendulum''

 

Da, sa Vinsentom Prajsom. :-)

 

Elem, obozhavam ga. I nemam namjeru da pokushavam da odredim da li mi se vishe svidja njegova poezija ili proza, jer je i jedno i drugo... Pa, nemam komentar.

Edited March 30, 2008 by Diaboli Juna

[Dersu Uzala]

Ima citav serijal EAP sa Vincent Price-om. To mi bilo omiljeno filmsko stivo. Ima i Maska crvene smrti i Pad kuce Usherovih i EAP special gde je on narator i sta sve ne.

[Kokopelli]

Ima i filmić o Vincent-u, ali ne Price-u, mada bi ovaj Vincent volio da je Vincent Price (hahaha, kako zbunih sada...) Elem, riječ je o Bartonovom kratkom filmu, zvani Vincent, a tekst recituje Vincent Price.

Vincent Malloy is seven years old

He's polite and always does as he's told

For a boy his age, he's considerate and nice

But he wants to be just like Vincent Price

 

(...)

 

Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him

But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum

He likes to experiment on his dog Abocrombie

In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie

So that he and his horrible zombie dog

could go searching for victims in the London fog

 

His thoughts aren't only of ghoulish crime

He likes to paint and read to pass some of the time

While other kids read books like "Go Jane Go"

Vincent's favorite author is Edgar Allen Poe.

 

(...)

 

edit: Evo ga mali Vincent na mom avataru

Edited March 30, 2008 by Kokopelli

[VeronikaJeOdluchilaDaUmre]

Vincent je presladak film

[AstralliS]

Haha, to i nije bilo tako teško zaključiti.

[Angelystor]

Rekoste Vincent

 

nadjite An Evening Of Edgar Allan Poe.

 

Genije.

[Talvi]

Ima citav serijal EAP sa Vincent Price-om. To mi bilo omiljeno filmsko stivo. Ima i Maska crvene smrti i Pad kuce Usherovih i EAP special gde je on narator i sta sve ne.

 

"Maska crvene smrti"... Jebote, kako sam obozavao taj film kad sam bio klinac... Prajsovi filmovi su mi i usadili ljubav prema morbidnoj tematici, pa verovatno njemu treba i da se zahvalim sto slusam metal uopste...

[The Joker]

Sa Prajsom je najbolji Tell-Tale Heart.To i The Pit And The Pendulum su bozanstvene price.O poeziji da i ne pocinjem,on je pesnik koji najvise utice na mene...

[The Joker]

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 named 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 darkness 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 above 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 further 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 sad soul 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 has 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 named Lenore -

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named 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!

[Mazrim Taim]

Ok je kao pisac i tako to,ali realno to i nije neki kvalitet.