On this date… 29 January 1845
“The Raven” first published
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
With these lines American author Edgar Allan Poe began his famous poem “The Raven” and became a household name forevermore. These mesmerizing lines were first published on this date, 29 January 1845 in the New York Evening Mirror. This famously eerie poem was an immediate sensation, both praised and parodied, and it catapulted Poe into fame in America and England.
“The Raven” was not just a literary achievement but a phenomenon that echoed through the cultural landscape of the time. Within a month of its publication, it was reprinted 10 more times, and by the end of that year, Poe had published two new books. It’s written in a rare, extremely distinctive style called trochaic octameter (each foot has a total of sixteen syllables, one stressed syllable, followed by an unstressed syllable. It is a meter not often used in verse. Two other well-known works that even attempt the form are Alfred Tennyson's “Locksley Hall” and Rudyard Kipling's “Mandalay,” though both modify the meter slightly). Imagine the rhythm of it:
DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
The poem's protagonist is a bereaved scholar mourning his lost love, Lenore. He hears a sound, and for a second wonders if she’s returned. Instead, he encounters a raven, who repeatedly intones the word “Nevermore.” Symbolically, ravens are like dark angels, associated with death and mystery. They arrive in times of trouble to pick at our subconscious and bring unpleasant truths to light. Poe’s raven arrives in the dead of night and perches on a statue of Athena, the goddess of wisdom. While wishing for his love to return, he instead receives a dark message from the cruel gods of fate: Nevermore.
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This simple, relentless refrain echoes throughout the poem, symbolizing the inescapability of death and the futility of seeking comfort in the face of irrevocable loss. The bird doesn’t have to do anything – it’s fiery red gaze reflects back his own anguish and internal turmoil. The mood is dark, and meant to evoke feelings of terror and profound sadness. Anyone touched by grief will recognize the way Poe’s mind cycles over and over: Nevermore.
Plagued by debt and personal loss, Poe seemed to live a version of his poem, albeit without the talking bird. Prior to its publication, Poe lived in poverty, at times subsisting on bread and molasses and occasionally resorting to begging for change on the street. The plot itself seems to come from a period of intense anguish – his wife Virginia was battling tuberculosis when he wrote it, and she died two years later. Nevermore.
While Poe was American, his influence extends far beyond the boundaries of the United States. His works, particularly “The Raven,” have been translated into numerous languages, inspiring artists, writers, and musicians around the world. Its impact on the literary world is a testament to the universality of its themes and the power of its language.
In Russia, for example, the poem resonated with the Symbolist movement, while in France, Charles Baudelaire, fascinated by Poe's exploration of the macabre, translated his works, spreading their influence throughout Europe. Today, it is one of the most famous poems in existence.
The next time you’re in downtown Baltimore, stop by the Westminster Presbyterian Church and visit Poe’s grave. On a dark and stormy evening you might glimpse a dark shadow perched nearby, whispering “Nevermore.”
FYI, Starting in February, On This Date will be moving to a thrice weekly newsletter instead of daily. Researching and writing these has been fun and amazing, but have taken more time than initially planned.