Mar Báltico


11
Sep 97

The obsession in Poe’s “Ligeia”

The first reason to affirm that Ligeia is not a living person is the vague information about her past. The narrator does not remember either her surname or their first meetings. Her origins are important because the past is the root to the reality. Besides, if Ligeia was so dear and important to him, it is hard to believe that he does not remember when and how they met. The only logical explanation to these facts is she never actually exists.The second reason is her idealized description. Her face is depicted with admiration; the harmony and delicacy of her features are given emphasis. Although the description of her face is quite detailed, she is portrayed as a stereotype of the classical Greek beauty and not as truly woman. “Ligeia is one of Poe’s typical heroines, beautiful, emaciated, dying.” (Buranelli, 73)

Then the narrator describes her most impressing characteristic:

And thus how frequently, in my intense scrutiny of Ligeia’s eyes, have I felt approaching – yet not quite be mine – and so at length entirely depart! … Yet not the more could I define that sentiment, or analyze or even steadily view it. I recognized it, let me repeat, sometimes in the survey of a rapidly growing vine, in the contemplation of a moth, a butterfly, a chrysalis, a stream of running water. I have felt it in the ocean, in the falling of a meteor. I have felt it in the glances of unusually aged people. And then one or two stars in heaven (one especially, a star of the sixth magnitude, double and changeable, to be found near the large star in Lyra) in a telescopic scrutiny of which I have been made aware of the feeling. I have been filled with it by certain sounds from string instruments, and not infrequently by passages from books.

If the eyes are the mirror of the soul and he can not define them, then he does not know her indeed, for she does not exists. Moreover, “Poe, in other tales, seems to be obsessed with the eyes to the point of fetishisms. In Ligeia it is the lady’s eyes which represents, to her husband, the total knowledge embodied in her person.” (Hoffman, 228) In fact, “Ligeia’s intellect was immense.” (Griffith, 66) She masters languages as well as sciences and metaphysics. “She guided the narrator, a child in contrast, through the chaotic world of metaphysical investigation.” (Griffith, 66) “The narrator’s was Ligeia’s student not in the sense that the dark lady was his teacher. He was a student of Ligeia in the sense that she represented the object of his studies.” (Griffith, 67)

The narrator was in love with an ideal model of beauty and intellect. “Although he makes much of the power of Ligeia’s intellect, his imaginative preoccupation with her physical beauty is highly sensuous, even voluptuous, in its intensity.” (Basler, 53) He wants to make his ideal tangible because he desires her.

Then, the narrator explains how he plans to achieve his ideal trough a quotation he has read:

“And the will therein lieth, which dieth not. Who knoweth the mysteries of the will, with its vigor? For God is but a great will pervading all things by nature of its intentness. Man doth not yield him to the angels, nor unto death utterly, save only through the weakness of his feeble will.” Joseph Glanville

These words imply that if the will is strong, avoiding death is possible. But also they may mean, to the narrator, that it is possible to incorporate his ideal of beauty into a real woman. In fact, the narrator is obsessed with this concept. The following events in the story are, thus, a result of this thought. Now, not to question the credibility of the events he is about to narrate is difficult. In relation with this doubt, Lauber states: “The narrator madness need not mean that he is incapable of reporting accurately what he has perceived, but rather that he may be capable of perceiving realities beyond the dull commonplaces of normal life.” (Lauber, 74)

Afterwards, the narrator tells the reader that Ligeia is very ill and that she is going to die. In her last minutes of life, she asks him to read a poem written by her. “The poem is a condensation of the tale, and the philosophy – if it can be called one – which it presents, tells us that life is an unassuaged disaster, an unequal battle between mankind and the inexorable death, enacted for the amusement of angels who make no move on man’s behalf.” (Hoffman, 253) Devastated by Ligeia’s death he moves on and marries a lady named Rowena.

At any rate, Rowena is the opposite of Ligeia because she is alive, of course, she does not outstand for her interior, her intelligence, and they are physically different. Nevertheless, she is the perfect body whom incorporates the narrator’s ideal. He confesses his intentions in the design of the bridal chamber.

The bridal chamber “has its walls enshrouded in rich figured draperies which are continually agitated by some mysterious agency. The fluid shifting of the figures suggest, of course, the behavior of hypnagogic images; but the agitation of the draperies would also produce a perpetual ambiguity of architectural form, and the effect would resemble that of which Pevsner ascribes to the interior of San Vitale in Ravena; a sensation of uncertainty and of dreamlike floating.” (Wilbur, 112) In addition, the ghostly and perverse atmosphere anticipates the strange events that later occur in the room.

Besides he makes a reference to the opium. This fact is important to be considered because in the night where the story ends he is under the effects of this drug. He says:

In the excitement of my opium dreams (for I was habitually fettered in the shackles of the drug), I would call aloud upon her name, during the silence of the night, or among the sheltered recesses of the glens by day, as if, through the wild eagerness, the solemn passion, the consuming ardor of my longing for the departed, i could restore the pathways she had abandoned – ah, could it be forever? – upon the earth.

He expresses that he needs Ligeia as soon as possible. Now that his wife is sick he has a close opportunity of reaching Ligeia.

At this point he begins to feel a presence in the room. And then:

I saw, or may have dreamed that I saw, fall within the goblet, as from some invisible string in the atmosphere of the room, three or four large drops of a brilliant and ruby colored fluid.

Taking advantage of Rowena’s illness, he poisons her, but “his obsession adapts into the pattern of hallucination by perceiving that it is distilled from the atmosphere rather than dropped from a bottle held in his own hand. He cannot in his obsession recognize the bottle or the poison physical facts, for then the power of the spirit must bow to the greater power of a merely physical drug.”(Basler, 60)

Finally, he hallucinates Ligeia has taken possession of Rowena’s body.

Here the, at last, I shrieked aloud, can I never be mistaken – this are the full, and the clack, and the wild eyes – of my lost love – of the Lady – of the LADY LIGEIA.

Conclusion

The ideal of beauty represented in Ligeia becomes an obsession. His determination to incorporate his ideal into a real woman leads him to kill Rowena. In conclusion, this tale does not deal with supernatural events but with events produced by the twisted mind of a mad man. Therefore, “Ligeia” is a psychological study of the obsession: its steps and consequences.

Bibliography

Basler, R., Stovall, F., Wilbur, R., et al. 1967. “Poe A Collection of Critical Essays.” New Jersey: Prentice Hall

Buranelli, V. 1961. “Edgar Allan Poe” New York: Twayne Publishers

Griffith, C., Lauber, J., et al. 1991. “Poe’s Tales” New Jersey: Prentice Hall

Hoffman, D. 1972. “Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe” New York: Doubleday


20
Mar 97

The answer

The figure inside the five-wall room got up. On the north wall, there was a window open and the wind made the white curtains fly like scared doves. After she lit a candle and sat down, she began to stare at the shadows made by the tiny fire. Her life passed in front of her wild green eyes.

The man, who lay in the old fashion wood bed, seemed to be going to speak again, but did not. When he moved to watch her, the shiny red silk sheets produced a crunchy noise. However, no one in the room was bothered by it.

All her attention was devoted to the dark black shadows in motion. She saw the big brown dog, which had been her dearest pet of the several she had had, and the Barbie dollhouse she had spent hours playing…. The flame of the candle continued crepitating.

Her eyes opened wide and were filled with salty tears. She remembered when her parents died in a tragic car accident. She was merely 12 years old. Few more tears pop out, not with sorrow but with emotion, while she viewed her desired graduation.

In the images she looked at, she noticed that there was a lack of something. She had faced her anguishes and joys lonely. She had felt the need to embrace someone, but she had had nobody until now.

“I must change this.” She said to herself. “What should I do?” She wandered, and she found the answer right in front of her.

“Yes, I accept.” A smile was drawn in the face of the man. The answer he has been waiting for finally came out from her gorgeous red lips. A few minutes that seemed to last centuries had finished.

He put on her finger the diamonds wedding ring. Bright images of a brand new life without loneliness filled her pumping heart.


20
Mar 97

Rapaccini’s duality

“Rapaccini’s daughter” is the story of a doctor who created a poisonous garden and nourished his own daughter, Beatrice, with poison so she becomes a fatal poison herself. Then, a young man named Giovanni falls in love with Beatrice and becomes the subject of Rapaccini’s experiment. Nathaniel Hawthorne who stated that every human being is both evil and good wrote this story. He portrayed this conception of the human nature in his characters. Then Rapaccini is neither completely evil nor good; he is intrinsically dual.

On the one hand, Rapaccini is evil because he is capable of sacrifice whatever in the name of science. For instance, he made a biological weapon out of his daughter. As a result of her deathly breath, she is deprived of leaving the house and garden where she is confined. In addition, Rapaccini is not sympathetic with human feelings. As a consequence, “his patients are interesting to him only as subjects for some new experiments”. In his lust after accumulating knowledge, he takes Giovanni and turns him into another offspring of his unscrupulous mind.

On the other hand, he is a good doctor who distils plants into medicines. He believes that all medical virtues are comprised in vegetable poisons. In other words, that is certainly the reason why he created the garden. Besides, he is responsible father who wants the best future for his dear daughter. Consequently, he gave her a gift in order to prevent her for all harms. He also notices that she loves Giovanni. Next, he transforms him for making possible their relationship. Thus, he shows his approval to the bridegroom.

In summary, Rapaccini’s evil lies on the means he uses but the goal he wants to achieve is praiseworthy. In conclusion, Hawthorne depicts very well the dual nature of this scientist. In spite of the fact that this short story was written a long time ago, he brings to discussion the presently topic of ethics applied to science and the consequence of certain investigations and discoveries.


20
Mar 96

Modern Life

Once upon a time in a smoky city, there lived a man named Joy Smith. In spite of his name he was extremely gloomy. Due to this irony, everybody would play jokes on his name. Even the priest made fun of him. That situation did not make him feel joyful. Instead, he felt fairly annoyed.

One day, he decided that he had already borne enough. He went fast to the National Office of Names and asked what he should do to improve his situation. An employee, who was drinking a cup of coffee and remembering the glorious soccer game of the Sunday afternoon, told him that he had to follow a procedure.

Promptly, Joy came back to his tiny dark apartment, which was on top of a building without elevator. Next, he seated down on a rickety chair and looked trough the broken window. It was foggy, as usual. Joy was somewhat disappointed because he had not understood the actual steps he had to follow to end his agony.

Wasting his final crumbs of hope, he dialed the information service. An ice-cold female voice explained the bureaucratic procedure during 10 minutes. Although the call cost him 1867 platinum coins, he considered it worthwhile.

Then he writes ectasily in his diary: “Tuesday, 6 A.M. at the N.O.N. (4th floor) CHANGE MY NAME.” After he put his diary in its place, he had a frugal supper, because frugal was the maximum he could afford. That night he went early to bed, for he wanted to be rested in the most important day of his life. The next day he woke up erupting sparks of emotion. He stood up smiling in front of the bathroom mirror and shouted: “Goodbye, Joy!”

By 6:17 he was another person. He felt terribly happy. Besides he remembered that in a History book he had read that his present name, John, had been very common during the 20th century. That fact amazed him because in the 34th century nobody flaunted such an exotic and beautiful name. He was more than willingly to show off him to the indifferent world.

15 minutes later he was in his favorite coffee house…

- Good morning. May I help you? – Asked the friendly attendant.
- Good morning. My name is John Smith and I would like a cappuccino.
- My name is John, too. What a coincidence! Do you prefer sugar or sweetener?

John Smith became extremely rage. All of a sudden, he took a sharpen knife from a close table and murdered the “friendly attendant” who had killed his dream of becoming someone happy.


20
Mar 96

He, my grandfather!

He had sincere eyes. His face was furrowed with wrinkles and he had a big hawk nose. His mouth was always waiting with an ear to ear smile and a big kiss. All his face was crowed with plenty of hairs as white as snow. His hair was short, so it stood up like a brush.

His body in olden times young and vigorous became fragile and tired. It was possible to notice that time had left marks on him.

Everyone remembered when he walked so fast that they needed to ask him to slow down. However, when I met him, he walked as slowly as a turtle that had to lift a big weight on its back.

He used to sit by my side on his porch. He would tell me anecdotes of my father when he was a teenager. I never felt tired of listening to the same stories several times because he told them with lots of details that made them very interesting. He was a great storyteller!

I enjoyed every minute we spent together. When I was a little child I considered him a giant. When I grew up, I realize that in fact, he was a short man.

My parents and I lived my first five years in a house behind his. Then, we moved out. Distances are never too far when there is love, so we kept in touch.

When he visited us, he brought me meringues. Because he brought those meringues, they were the most delicious ones.

Now, he is dead. I treasure all the remembrances of the wonderful days we spent in my heart. Having known him makes me feel glad.


17
Mar 94

Decisions

The tide came bravely
And then softly go
Taking millions of sand grains
Along with its course
The sea foam is a hand
That invites me to travel…

The clouds begin to crowd
Up and dark in the horizon;
The water turns black
Showing her hidden face
Reminding me of the sea monsters of the old tales
So I decided to keep my feet on the ground