I am not as maniacal an Egdar Allen Poe fan as some, but it’s hard not to acknowledge his talent. Since you can’t enjoy short stories without stumbling across his name at least a few dozen times, I’ve decided to give him his due.
Poe was an amazing linguist. He performed nothing short of literary wizardry in works like The Raven and Annabel Lee, and his prose familiarized us all with detective fiction and darker spec fic.
Have you ever wondered why his works were so melancholy? Critics claim the loss of his mother and wife weighed heavily on him, which I’m sure is true. But in his essay, The Philosophy of Composition, he explains that sadness and romantic longing were very deliberate choices for his themes. To him, a lugubrious portrayal of beauty is the highest purpose for which a poet should strive.
The essay evoked a variety of responses. Poe goes into such great detail about his writing process when creating The Raven that some folks at the time thought it was a joke. Nobody can be that methodical and scientific about writing, some said. He couldn’t have written the essay in earnest.
Joke or not, the essay reveals some interesting beliefs Poe held regarding writing and literature. I don’t agree with him on some issues, but I enjoyed hearing his opinions, which I believe were indeed heartfelt and passionate. First, Poe discusses what he perceives to be central to a story, the seed for which the rest of the composition must offer support.
Effect comes first
For Poe, the essence of a story resides in its conflict resolution. He also places heavy emphasis on prewriting and plot development, stating that:
Nothing is more clear that that every plot, worth the name, must be elaborated to its denouement before anything be attempted with the pen. It is only with the denouement constantly in view that we can give a plot its indispensable air of consequence, or causation, by making the incidents, and especially the tone at all points, tend to the development of the intention.
This is an interesting opinion to hold for a writer in Poe’s time, when inspiration, serendipity and spontaneity were so highly favored. (More on that in a moment.) After expressing his views on denouement, Poe shares his opinions on story construction that are just as surprising.
There is a radical error, I think in the usual mode of constructing a story. Either history affords a thesis – or one is suggested by an incident of the day – or, at best, the author sets himself to work in the combination of striking events to form merely the basis of his narrative-designing, generally, to fill in with description, dialogue, or autorial comment, whatever crevices of fact, or action, may, from page to page, render themselves apparent.
I prefer commencing with the consideration of an effect. Keeping originality always in view – for he is false to himself who ventures to dispense with so obvious and so easily attainable a source of interest – I say to myself, in the first place, “of the innumerable effects, or impression, of which the heart, the intellect, or (more generally) the soul is susceptible, what one shall I, on the present occasion, select?”
Poe’s talking about cause and effect. Usually, a writer’s imagination places them near the early events of a conflict: an interesting conundrum, perhaps, or curious situation in which a person must struggle through or experience. Poe claims that he instead starts with an effect, a resolution to a conflict that he uses the rest of his creativity to flesh out. If true, this is a pretty interesting way of exploring an idea, but I wouldn’t place any special emphasis on either Poe’s method or those more traditional. Both should have their place since there are many perspectives one may use to view an event.
Next, he cites some narrative bells and whistles and how he chooses to employ them.
Having chosen a novel, first, and secondly a vivid effect, I consider whether it can be best wrought by incident or tone – whether by ordinary incidents and peculiar tone, or the converse, or by peculiarity both of incident and tone – aftreward looking about me (or rather within) for such combinations of event, or tone, as shall best aid me in the construction of the effect
Yes indeed, “incident” and “tone” are two concepts one may use to analyze a story. But there are other abstract labels you could use to further compartmentalize a story’s components, these two aren’t the only ones. As for this talk of either being ordinary or peculiar, well, there are many more possibilities than that, wouldn’t you say? He makes a good point, however. The shape and character of any story feature can be a conscious choice made by the writer. Just make sure you can support your decision with sound evidence; don’t use unconventional elements for the sake of their novelty.
Poe then returns to his hypothesis that intuition and inspiration are over-rated sources for a story’s development.
Most writers – poets in especial – prefer having it understood that they compose by a species of fine frenzy – an ecstatic intuition – and would positively shudder at letting the public take a peep behind the scenes, at the elaborate and vacilliating crudities of thought – at the true purposes seized only at the last moment – at the fancies discarded in despair as unmanageable – at the cautious selections and rejections – at the painful erasures and interpolations – in a word, at the wheels and pinions – the tackle for sceneshifting – the step-ladders, and demon-traps – the cock’s feathers, the red paint and the black patches, which, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, constitute the properties of the literary histrio.
For my own part, I have neither sympathy with the repugnance alluded to, nor, at any time, the least difficulty in recalling to mind the progressive steps of any of my compositions, and, since the interest of an analysis or reconstruction, such as I have considered a desideratum, is quite independent of any real or fancied interest in the thing analysed, it will not be regarded as a breach of decorum on my part to show the modus operandi by which some of my own works was put together.
The ideal length
The next part of the essay describes Poe’s first consideration when beginning composition: story length. I find this interesting, since I never allow my mind to suggest the length of a story. Instead, I allow the story to unfold in a natural manner, and discover the length after I’ve completed it, much like a reader would. Further, Poe is bold enough to suggest which lengths are optimal for achieving a story’s purpose. His answer is not surprising, considering his work, but nonetheless it conflicts with the habits of typical American readership.
If any literary work is too long to be read at one sitting, we must be content to dispense with the immensely important effect derivable from unity of impression – for, if two sittings be required, the affairs of the world interfere, and everything like totality is at once destroyed. But since, ceteris paribus, no poet can afford to dispense with anything that may advance his design, it but remains to be seen whether there is, in extent, any advantage to counterbalance the loss of unity which attends it. Here I say no, at once. …
It appears evident, then, that there is a distinct limit, as regards length, to all works of literary art – the limit of a single sitting – and that, although in certain classes of prose composition, such as “Robinson Crusoe” (demanding no unity), this limit may advantageously overpassed, it can never properly be overpassed in a poem.
Beauty, Truth and Passion
After considering a work’s length, Poe explains that he next decides upon its effect, or “impression.” For Poe, there is only one effect potent enough to be worthy of poetic expression.
Beauty is the sole legitimate province of the poem. … That pleasure which is at the once the most intense, the most elevating, and the most pure is, I believe, found in the contemplation of the beautiful. When, indeed, men speak of Beauty, they mean, precisely, not a quality, as is supposed, but an effect – they refer in short, just to that intense and pure elevation of soul – not of intellect or of heart – upon which I have commented, and which is experienced in consequence of contemplating the “beautiful.”
For Poe, beauty is not an object or classification, but rather an effect of being touched by a “beautiful” experience. Poetry, then, is the clearest, most encompassing means by which we can communicate this “elevation of the soul.” Well, I disagree. Poetry is but one of many tools of self-expression. Using different tools produces different results, the relative values of which cannot be quantified. A breathtaking painting can elevate the soul with the same intensity a poem would, but of course in different ways.
But what of the elevation of the intellect? The heart? Poe goes on to elaborate on these.
Now the object Truth, or the satisfaction of the intellect, and the object Passion, or the excitement of the heart, are, although attainable to a certain extent in poetry, far more readily attainable in prose. Truth, in fact, demands a precision, and Passion, a homeliness (the truly passionate will comprehend me), which are absolutely antagonistic to that Beauty which, I maintain, is the excitement or pleasurable elevation of the soul.
Truth, then, is intellect, accurately expressed. Passion is the elevation of the heart, rather than the soul. Poe says that these effects are different from Beauty, and require different methods when showcasing them. I would agree with Poe on this, but he considers poetry better suited for some of these methods, and prose for others, which suggests that certain writing styles are stronger in expressing certain effects. This seems inaccurate to me, since limiting artistic mediums to communicate a finite list of ideas places frivolous constraints on those mediums, which further confines expression.
Melancholy
Poe continues with his explanation of his prewriting process by discussing tone. Just as Beauty is the most ideal effect for poetry writing, Poe considers melancholy the most optimal tone to convey it.
Regarding, then, Beauty as my province, my next question referred to the tone of its highest manifestation – and all experience has shown that this tone is one of sadness. Beauty of whatever kind in its supreme development invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears. Melancholy is thus the most legitimate of all the poetical tones.
Again, his opinions are too singular for my tastes. My reasons for disagreement are similar enough to my reaction to his choice of effect, so I won’t risk being redundant.
The rest of the essay gets into the nitty gritty of Poe’s poetry writing, using The Raven as the sole model for his explanations. It’s a great read if you’re interested either in his process or the poem. But I thought I would at least share the first section, since it’s an interesting take on the writing process.
