Link here: The Raven
A few days ago I reread Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” for the first time in what must’ve been two decades. I was anticipating an experience similar to the first - cold, lifeless, like the inside walls of grade-school classroom. To my surprise, this was far from my experience. The words jumped off the page - they were alive - and I realized Poe wasn’t just telling his story. He was telling mine.
There’s a reason why we all encounter this poem at some point in our early lives - it’s pure genius. The narration structure and setup is perfect for what Poe was getting at. Without living enough life, though, the words feel boring, crusty, ancient. It seems like there’s a bar for entry, and the toll is experiencing the pain and struggle of loss and life. It’s a wonder to me why we expect children to read this.
After revisiting the poem, the gravity and depth of Poe’s turmoil and torment became immediately apparent. This dude went through some shit. A further refresher into his life proves the point - his was incredibly difficult. His father left, his mother died, he battled addiction and disease most of his life, and his wife died young. It’s no shock that he, too, died at an early age (40), due to “mysterious circumstances”. The man saw enough pain for several lifetimes, and his work is a direct reflection of this.
What strikes me about “The Raven” is just how relatable it is. The lament and melancholy that Poe summons are the same that we all face. We all have our own version of Lenore - that person, place or thing that we long for, or long to have back. The chilling echo of the Raven’s response, “Nevermore,” is a reminder of the fleeting nature of everything we’ve ever had or will have. Nothing lasts forever, although we wish it to be so. Everything is in itself a season, even our own lives. Grappling with this is an endeavor every human must face - some seek to avoid it, some seek to lean in and feel it for everything it is. I, like Poe, am a supporter of the latter.
The purpose of this, however, is not to sulk and waste away from alcoholism and despair. In fact, it’s the opposite. Facing the fleeting nature of our existence gives us the ability to see everything with gratitude, to cherish everything we have. Admittedly, I can fall into the pit of melancholy here and there (as I think we all do from time to time), but at the end of the day, it’s all a beautiful ride. I’ve felt extraordinary love, tasted exquisite beauty, fallen into deep despair and suffered debilitating anxiety. I’m here for all of it - it’s all temporary, and it’s all part of our human experience.
I think it’s easy to get the notion that all the “bad” stuff - the darkness, the despair, etc. - is to be avoided to make this life “worth it”. I vehemently disagree. I’d much rather feel deeply than numb myself, and I’d much rather experience everything in it’s fullest, not shy away or settle with some cheap imitation. In the words of Bebo Norman (strange person to quote, I know):
You can't understand light unless you understand darkness, because that's where life is most often lived - somewhere between the two. It's messy and it's beautiful all at the same time.
Edgar Allan Poe was a man who understood darkness. Unfortunately, I don’t think he was able to see the light himself, but he has helped me to see it. That’s more powerful than 1,000 words or inspirational quotes. I hope, in some smaller way, I can do the same for you.