Raven Love Leads To Poe

 

     In Virginia, in the oldest house still standing in Richmond, built around 1737, is the Edgar Allen Poe museum. It's an odd choice until you find out that Poe in 1824, as part of a junior honor color guard, escorted the Revolutionary War General Marquis de Lafayette (yes, the famous French guy who fought on our side in the war) around Richmond when he returned to the USA to visit. Poe took Lafayette to that very house and stood guard outside while he stayed there. 

        In 1922 the house was turned into the Poe museum. We discovered that fact when we were in Virginia. Chuck, who hears everything he's not supposed to hear, heard mention of Edgar Allen Poe, was still obsessed with seeing more ravens, and wanted to go to the museum.

        "Really, Chucky? A museum?"

         Dan was against it. He never read a lot of Poe. He's not a horror fan, and all he could think of were the Poe short stories kids read in high school--full of mystery and macabre--The Pit and the Pendulum, The Black Cat, The Masque of the Red Death, and The Murders in the Rue Morgue. My favorite was The Tell-Tale Heart where the narrator tries to convince the reader he's committed the perfect crime against an old man he's dismembered in the bathtub and hidden under the floor boards. He swears he's not going insane even as he describes a thumping sound he's convinced is the dead man's beating heart. That was not one of Dan's favorite stories.

        The museum is located in a number of ancient buildings, well-preserved, around a beautiful courtyard called an Enchanted Garden that contains a shrine to the writer. 

        As we walked outside in the Enchanted Garden, we turned and noticed that Poe was watching us from one of the windows.

Nice touch!

        Inside, we wandered around from room to room. We saw the desk he worked at when he was a literary critic.

           We saw the chair he sat on when he did much of his famous writing.

           We were astonished to learn that Poe is so much more than a horror writer.

        "It says here," Dan shares, "that Poe's detective stories, namely The Murders in the Rue Morgue laid the groundwork for all the future detective stories in literature. He created the concept of the eccentric genius who solves crimes."

        "That's cool. You mean Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes is based on Poe's work?"

        But Dan was already on to the next exciting fact. "And Poe also did groundbreaking work in science fiction. Jules Verne wrote a sequel to a novel that Poe wrote."

        I had to admit I was impressed. "So he's known for more than just horror."

        "Not just horror, Kate. Psychological horror and suspense. Alfred Hitchcock credits him with influencing the kind of movies he made."

        Of course, I instantly think of one of my favorites, The Birds.

        "And Poe added 1,178 words to the English language."

        I'm afraid that Dan may begin to list ALL of the words.

        "Get this: Booked. Epilepsy. Finicky. Hysteria. Multicolor. Normality. Pants."

        "Pants? So that words was never used before Poe?"

        "People used to say pantaloons, I guess. Or trousers." He paused briefly. "Awe-sticken. Cul-de-sac. Deathbed."

        "Wow. I believe you. But I don't think you have to list--"

        "Poe also loved cats."

        A bell went off in my head. "Cats?" We were lucky at this museum. Because Poe was a fan of cats, the people who run the museum kept two cats on the premises so adding Chuck to the mix didn't raise any eyebrows. Everyone assumed he was part of the museum staff. 

        Unfortunately, he was nowhere in sight. 

        "We are terrible parents."

        "He's got to be here somewhere."

        Why did this always happen to us? "We have to come up with a better system. Either you have to watch him or I have to watch him."

        "Right."

        "I'll go this way. You go that way."

        My thoughts grew darker. Had Chuck been whisked away by Poe's spirit who was lurking in the museum?

        Two minutes later, I stumbled into one of the many rooms with Poe memorabilia. Chuck was there, by himself, staring at a painting. But not just any painting. A giant raven, obviously done in honor of Poe's most famous poem, hung on the wall. 

        

        "Chuck."

        He let out a slight murmur of response.

        "That raven is not real, Chuck. It's only a painting."

         He didn't seem to care.

         Dan came into the room behind me. "How long has he been sitting here?"

        "Too long." I didn't have the heart to pull the poor love sick boy away. "This is so sad," I whispered. 

         "Not really. Now we know what to get Chucky for Christmas."

         I looked at Dan. At Chuck. At the painting of the raven. "Of course. Dan, you're a genius."

          We had a plan. And so what if this decision meant we were doomed to have a giant Raven painting hanging on a wall in our house? If it made Chuck happy, it was worth it.

STAY TUNED FOR MORE ADVENTURES OF CHUCK, THE RASCAL CAT. AND PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT. CHUCK WOULD LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU. JUST CLICK ON "COMMENT." IT'S EASY.