The Serendipitous Rendezvous

The early teen years are perfect for an introduction to Poe:  it's one tortured soul reaching out to another through the miasma of darkness and gloom.  The junior high librarian and I became good friends, and she gifted me with a slim volume of Poe's writing.  We've been friends since:  the librarian, Poe, and I.

You can imagine my pleasure at discovering that my Intro to Literature class would start with a selection of Poe's writings:  The Tell-Tale Heart, The Masque of the Red Death, and The Fall of the House of Usher.  I enjoyed rereading the selections, and I eagerly anticipated the class discussions.  Is there anything better than talking about foreshadowing, allegory, and intent?

My classmates were considerably less enthusiastic, but I was undaunted.  I euphorically answered the professor's questions of motive and symbolism.  When he asked what the class thought about Poe, I waxed poetic about his use of language.

Then Dr. M glanced my way and said, "May I have a reaction from some of you we haven't heard from yet?"

A gawky guy mumbled, "He was a weirdo."

(I must learn to limit myself to three comments during class!  It's hard when no one else says anything.  But, then again, maybe someone will say something if I shut up.  Whew!  We are done with Poe, so I should be able to suppress myself.)