Excerpt
From "Poe Posthumous; or, The Light-House"
1 March 1850. Cyclophagus, I have named it. A most original & striking creature, that would have astonished Homer, as my gothic forebears to a man. Initially, I did not comprehend that Cyclophagus was an amphibian, & have now discovered that this species dwells, by day at least, in watery burrows at the edge of the pebbled beach: to emerge, in the way of the Trojan invaders, at nightfall, & clamber about devouring what flesh its claws, snout, & tearing teeth can locate. & in this way, Mercury died.
Primarily, Cyclophagus is yet another scavenger; tho' the larger specimens, clearly males, & magnificent tyrants of the beach they are, reaching the size of a wild boar, will attack & devour—living, & shrieking!—such creatures as very large spider-crabs (themselves a terror to contemplate) & a greatheaded fish, or reptile, with astonishing phosphorescent scales, I have named Hydrocephalagus, & the usual roosting sea-birds, gulls & hawks, lapsed into unwary sleep amongst the boulders; &, as it happened the other night, poor Mercury, who in a terrier blood-lust had unwisely blundered into the domain of one of these nightmare beasts. I can scarcely record it in this Diary, I had once hoped to express only the loftiest sentiments of humankind, how, wakened from sleep, I heard my companion's piteous cries, for it seemed to me that he cried "Master! Master!" & that my beloved V. cried with him, that I might save him. & so, casting aside my disgust for the Charnel House, I stumbled to Mercury's side, as the doomed fox terrier struggled frantically for his life, trapped in the masticating jaws of a Cyclophagus male intent upon devouring him alive. Desperate, I struck at the monstrous predator with rocks, & tugged at Mercury, shouting & crying, until at last I managed to "free" Mercury of those terrible serrated teeth—ah, too late! For by now the poor creature was part-dismembered, copiously bleeding & whimpering as with a final convulsion he died in my arms ...
I cannot write more of this. I am sickened, I am overcome with disgust. The shadowy regions of Usher are no more, Cyclophagus has invaded. Not the gothic spider-fancies of Jeremias Gotthelf himself could withstand such hellish creatures! In a nightmare vision my beloved V. came to chastise me, that I have abandoned our "first-born" to such a fate. My astonished eyes saw V. as I had not seen her since our wedding day, when she was but thirteen years old, ethereal & virginal as the driven snow; & I heard her weeping voice as I had never heard it in life, in this curse:
"I shall not see you again, husband. Neither in this world nor in Hades." |
Contents
- Poe Posthumous; or, The Light-House
- EDickinsonRepliLuxe
- Grandpa Clemens & Angelfish 1906
- The Master at St. Bartholomew's Hospital 1914-1916
- Papa at Ketchum 1961
Epigraph
Wild Nights—Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile—the Winds—
To a Heart in port—
Done with the Compass—
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden—
Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor—Tonight—
In Thee!
Emily Dickinson (1861)
Reviews
- Publishers Weekly, October 15, 2007, p. 34
- Booklist, November 1, 2007, p. 6
- Library Journal, December 1, 2007, p. 107
- Kirkus Reviews, February 15, 2008
- Cleveland Plain Dealer, April 6, 2008
- Newsday, April 6, 2008
- St. Louis Post-Dispatch, April 6, 2008
- Washington Times, April 6, 2008, p. B5
- Star Tribune (Minneapolis-St.Paul), April 19, 2008
- New York Times Book Review, April 20, 2008, p. 9
- Toledo Blade, April 27, 2008
Interview
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