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“The Lighthouse”

Fascinating...an unfinished story fragment by Edgar Allan Poe, from 1849:

Besides, I wish to be alone . . . . . . It is strange that I never observed, until this moment, how dreary a sound that word has — “alone” ! I could half fancy there was some peculiarity in the echo of these cylindrical walls — but oh, no! — this is all nonsense.

Poe could have gone so many different ways with this: a powerful storm overwhelming the island (note the comment about how high the sea runs there) and flooding out the cellar; the lighthouse crumbling, being built only on chalk; a man who at first cherishes solitude slowly descending into madness from his isolation; even Neptune the dog meeting an unfortunate end.

October 19, 2019 in Books | Permalink

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