First Things First…
This story is extremely short. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. I also wonder, since it’s called a parable, if it’s religious in nature.
3 Things I Like
3. The Immortality of Writing
“Ye who read are still among the living; but I who write shall have long since gone my way into the region of shadows.”
Oinos
I’m not sure if this is what Poe was going for at the start of the story, but I love how it begins. And, as a writer, I took something meaningful from this.
A reader is always still alive. But a writer—the voice of a piece of writing—might still be alive… or they might be recently departed… or maybe even long gone, for years, decades, or centuries.
But their writing lives on.
And the story’s opening paragraph concludes like this…
“… there will be some to disbelieve, and some to doubt, and yet a few who will find much to ponder upon in the characters here graven with a stylus of iron.”
This sounds to me like a statement on my favorite aspect of reading…
Many people can read the same piece of writing and react very differently to it. And though some won’t care for what they read or will find reason to doubt its truth, others will find deep meaning in the words, as I have here.
2. Watched by the Dead
One of the key pieces of atmosphere that adds chill to this very short story is the corpse of young Zoilus. According to the description from the narrator, Oinos…
“Dead, and at full length he lay, enshrouded;–the genius and the demon of the scene. Alas! he bore no portion in our mirth, save that his countenance, distorted with the plague, and his eyes, in which Death had but half extinguished the fire of the pestilence, seemed to take such interest in our merriment as the dead may haply take in the merriment of those who are to die. But although I, Oinos, felt that the eyes of the departed were upon me, still I forced myself not to perceive the bitterness of their expression…”
As this group of seven tries to hide from the plague ravaging their city, their friend, who is already a victim of the plague, lies with them.
Now, maybe there’s nothing real to the idea of this corpse watching Oinos. It might be all in his head. Madness is a common theme in Poe’s most popular works. Oinos could be going mad here, thanks to the circumstances outside, and their attempts to pretend like nothing is wrong, right in the face of someone they care about who has died. But the effect is chilling, whether or not the supernatural is at play.
1. Before the Masque
It quickly became obvious when I started reading this story that it’s a precursor of sorts to “The Masque of the Red Death.”
This is nowhere near the level of that classic, which may well fight for a perfect 100 score when I review it. That’s how great it is and how much I love it.
This is much shorter, and the story isn’t nearly as developed. But just seeing the parallels, it’s no wonder this has incredible atmosphere. Oinos talks about…
“…heaviness in the atmosphere—a sense of suffocation—anxiety…”
Meanwhile, just like in its more famous counterpart, this story centers on an incredibly compelling idea: a group of revelers trying to hide from a plague, only to learn that there’s no hiding from death.
2 Things I’m Mixed On
2. Indistinct
“There were things around us and about of which I can render no distinct account…”
Oinos
Though I already complimented the atmosphere, because it’s easy to feel while reading, there’s also the sense of it being indistinct. Oinos talks about a “dead weight” hanging about them, and he mentions “Evil,” but very little is specific.
At the same time, the Shadow that comes into the room is described as “dark and undefined.” And, granted, shadows are, by their very nature, undefined.
It all still works in evoking a dark mood, but it leaves a lot to the imagination. Whether that’s better or worse than the alternative, I don’t know.
1. Inconclusive
Just like the specifics are left to the imagination, so, too, is the end of the story.
The message is clear—try as they might, they can’t keep out death. They can ignore it, they can ignore their dead friend, and they can partake in their merriment, but if it’s time, no heavy brass door or black drapes will protect them from the Shadow.
It’s kinda cool that the story doesn’t actually end with the deaths of the seven in the room—only the notion that death is imminent. I just can’t help but compare it to “The Masque of the Red Death,” and the mass death that story ends with.
Tim Matassa
