the fall of the house of usher

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Wilfried Sätty. The Illustrated Edgar Allan Poe. Ligeia, The Conversation of Eiros and Charmion, Silence–A Fable, Ms. Found in a Bottle, Dreamland, The Fall of the House of Usher, Dreamland, Landor’s Cottage, Ligeia, The Conversation of Eiros and Charmion (top to bottom). 1976.

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Horror History: The 1920s, the Silent Era.

Films Featured (not in order): Nosferatu (1922), The Cat and the Canary (1927), The Phantom of the Opera (1925), Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1920), Haxan (1922), The Fall of the House of Usher (1928), The Golem (1920), The Hands of Orlac (1924), The Man Who Laughs (1928).

Let’s learn together about Edgar Allan Poe and his work by Mortisia

The dear Mortisia has made a series of posts about Edgar Allan Poe’s work.

Beautiful, enlightening and very interesting!

Here are the links:

Edgar Allan Poe.

1. The Murders in the Rue Morgue.

2. The Black Cat.

3. The Tell-Tale Heart.

4. The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar.

5. Ligeia.

6. The Premature Burial.

7. The Pit and the Pendulum.

8. The Oval Portrait.

9. The Fall of the House of Usher.

Check her Edgar Allan Poe related posts to find more amazing things.

Which is your favorite short story by Edgar Allan Poe?

flying, fluttering, falling.
the house calls to me, caresses me
seeping into the marrow of my bones
filling my ears with poison and
my heart with shards of glass.

madeline, madeline, the ravens cry
they are swirling over my head
a flurry of fanged feathers, 
like a funeral shroud in black 
to drape over my bed.

ten score years and nine have I
walked through the halls of this house.
lead by those ghostly white spectres, 
following the echoing rhythm of fate-  
the death-march of the Ushers.  

violent, vicious, voracious. 
the teeth tear at my nerves and sinew
remaking my blood for their own purposes 
to carry the whispers of ruination 
and the promise of certain destruction. 

madeline, madeline, the past Ushers cry
their cold fingers are claiming me 
telling me, soon, madeline, you shall join us 
and the funeral shroud descends
my flame growing ever dimmer. 

the walls of the house think 
to open up, and swallow me whole,
to devour my soul and steal my life
but I am an Usher, and after all- 
I am not named the magnificent for nothing.

—  madeline of the house of usher. [ k.a ]