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Edgar Allan Poe

On evening when I was about three years old and having difficulty sleeping because of my asthma wandered down stairs and turned on Vincent Prices Masterpiece Theater. That evening they were running Poe's Masquerade of the Red Death. It was the most brilliant thing I had ever seen. A marvelous story about the dangers of arrogance and the horrors of plague. I've been hooked on Poe ever since. I do honestly acknowledge that it was the writers dark side that first drew me in, but that has nothing to do with why I still view him as the greatest. It has not been his stories that have captivated me the most, but rather his poetry. The stories he wrote to make ends meat grabbed my attention, the poems he wrote in love captured my heart. It is the simple fact that no mater how dark and sad his work gets at times, the intense - all consuming - passionate love he clearly felt for his wife Victoria clearly shines threw. Like a beacon in the night. Even his most famous poem, The Raven is not simply about death and loss, it is about longing. The need to hear her voice, hold her hand, look into her eyes and touch her hair. It is as much a love poem as is To Helen. Though I don't think any of them capture this love quite so well as Anabell Lee, The last thing he is known to have written.