

Would to Heaven I had ever found in “society” one half as much faith as in this poor dog: - in such case I and “society” might never have parted - even for the yearĪ friend named De Grät had secured the position for the lighthouse keeper despite the apparent apprehensions of others who felt he couldn’t handle the job. Neptune, large as he is, is not to be taken into consideration as “society”. His one companion, a canine, causes him to reflect: His outlook wavers, insisting that the solitude won’t bother him, but he then acknowledges that until that moment, he’d never appreciated how bleak the word “alone” happens to be. In the January 1st entry, our protagonist, who took on the desolate post as a lighthouse keeper thinking it a perfect situation to finish a novel, contemplates the remoteness around him. Poe admirers will feel on familiar ground as this brisk piece shares themes from earlier works, though with less of the macabre flair that has fostered his reputation. I’m speaking of the roughly 800 word, untitled (though now commonly referred to as “The Light-House”) manuscript that is presented in diary form beginning on New Year’s Day 1796 and features journal entries for the next couple of days. A last shot, if you will, across the bow that enticingly leaves many questions unanswered. It is these main ingredients of horror-or, more precisely, impending doom-and mystery that fused a minor but intriguing literary coda to his legacy. Auguste Dupin, who first appeared in 1841’s “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” and later in ”The Mystery of Marie Rogêt“ (1842) and ”The Purloined Letter” (1844). He’s also acknowledged as the architect of the contemporary detective genre with his French investigator, C. Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) remains a giant within the horror set with renowned classics such as The Raven, The Tell-Tale Heart, and The Pit and the Pendulum.
