Text: R. A. Douglass-Lithgow, “Poe's Place in American Literary History,” Massachusetts Magazine (Salem, MA), vol. 4, no. 2, April 1911, pp. 75-81

[page 75:]

AMERICAN Literature had no childhood, and its history does not begin until the people of the New World had, during generations, reached years of maturity, although early memories of an ancient cultured land were latent within them. The pioneers of civilization in North America, and their successors, during many years, were too strenuously occupied with hard work and suffering to even think of Art in any of its varied forms; and as Art can only bloom and flourish as the result of the accumulation of past experience, it was not until phenomenal physical labor and the associated forces of human energy had cleared the land, tilled the soil, rendered possession safe and residence secure, — not, indeed, until concentrated toil had borne fruit in the establishment of communal consolidation, and the teeming resources of Nature had enabled a rapidly-increasing community to survey their environment with assured confidence and hopefulness, that the seeds of literary art were sparsely planted amongst them.

Records of novel experiences formed the first, if lowly blossomings, as recognized in the Relations and Histories of Smith, Bradford, Winthrop, the Mathers and Bradstreet during the Colonial period, and of Woolman, Jonathan Edwards, and their more illustrious contemporary, Benjamin Franklin, in the 18th century, — the latter excelling all in style and [page 76:] literary spirit in his “Autobiography.” Passing over the lighter and more musical notes of Freneau and Hopkinson, still later, in the Revolu- tionary period, Madison, Hamilton, Jefferson and others combined their religio-political views and aims in stalwart prose, but without recognition of the higher literary forms of Art included in Poetry, Belles-lettres, etc.

It was not, however, until the first quarter of the 19th century when Bryant published his “Thanatopsis” (in 1816), and Washington Irving (in 1819), published his “Sketch-Book,” that American literature had its real beginning, and the day of puling rhymesters and ponderous pedantic essayists was over. From this time forward the literary field of America became more highly cultured and duly yielded richer fruit. Bryant and Irving were the first two stars to appear in the firmament of American literature; they were, indeed, the morning-stars which heralded the “Elizabethan era” of American Letters with its gleaming galaxy, — the radiant constellation which illumed the 19th century. The names of Bryant, Longfellow, Emerson, Whittier, Holmes, Lowell, Hawthorne, and Walt Whitman diffused their light not only over east, west, north and south of the New World, but gladdened the hearts of millions throughout the hearths and homes of the Old.

With these shining lights, but not of them, came one lone but brilliant star, of “purest ray serene,” — the intensity of whose light waxed with the flight of time until, still solitary in the heavens, it shone, like a full-orbed planet, over many lands.

Though the light of Edgar Allen Poe has ceased to burn forever, the lustre of his fame has become immortal.

Mr. Hamilton Wright Mabie says*: — “It is the first, and perhaps the most obvious distinction of Edgar Allen Poe that his creative work baffles all attempts to relate it historically to antecedent conditions; that it detached itself almost completely from the time and place in which it made its appearance, and sprang suddenly and mysteriously from a soil which had never known its like before.” This is, indeed, true, for of his distin- guished colleagues he is the only one that stands absolutely alone and unaffected by the prior developmental and historical experiences of his native land. The tang of Puritanism pervades the writings not only of [page 77:] his predecessors but of his contemporaries, but there is no Puritanic tincture in anything that Poe has written. However, his contemporaries are differentiated from each other in outlook and purview, in aim and perspective, in insight and intensity, in thought and expression, Poe was yet different from all in every aspect of his individuality, — an anachronism, — “out of place, out of time,” — sui generis, — like an exotic flower mysteriously transplanted into an alien and inimical environment, detached and isolated.

He was in no sense deliberately interested either in the formative development or fluxing conditions of his life-period or its antecedents, and it was the potentiality of his individual force rather than the inspiration of contemporaneous thought which guided and impelled him in all the work he accomplished. While he learned little, if anything from men, and his experience of the world was extremely limited, he was ever an un- wearying student not only of belles-lettres, but of

and it was thus, and thus only, that his practical disseverance from life can be accounted for. The supreme passion of his soul was Beauty, especially in relation to perfect Art, and while he ever worshipped Beauty and Art as his genius interpreted them, he made the attainment of perfect art the sole and only object and ambition of his life. So strongly did the artistic spirit pervade his nature that he sought but to interpret what she inspired. There is not another figure in all literature who shines forth with such loyal devotion to the mistress his soul adored, nor one who exercised such uncompromising singleness of purpose in the realisation of her behests.

Poe's advent into American literature was as wonderful as the influence He he exerted upon it, and as he had no precursor he left no successor. was unique in every aspect of his personality, — in his temperament, his manner, and his appearance, as in the constitution of his mind, and the idiosyncratic fertility of his genius. Throughout his ill-starred life he remained uninfluenced by anything save his own individuality, and neither the appalling aud unparallelled environment amid which his life was spent, nor the hereditary weakness of his character, — for which he was not responsible, — left a stain or a flaw in the inimitable work he wrought. He was essentially individualistic not only in his genius but in his work, and [page 78:] all the concentrated force of his personality was expended mainly in subjective idealism, and the perfection of form in art. His imagination, — frequently tinctured with gloom, as if a reflection from the isolation of his life, — was as pure and vivid as a flash of lightning, and the distinctive perfection of his artistry has never been excelled. He was, perhaps, the daintiest and most painstaking literary artist in any literature, and all his work is remarkable for supersensitiveness and delicacy of touch, — aglow with the soul of the perfect artist's creative impulse. Within its limitations his genius is perfect of its kind, and always individualistic, whether expressed in poetry or prose, and the magic of his art is incomparable in both.

This paper is not intended as either biographical or critical, but merely seeks to estimate Poe's place in American Literary History by a brief consideration of the character of his work, and of what he accomplished as a littérateur. His genius was so many-sided that it is difficult within the space at my disposal, to do anything like justice to the theme; but a brief reference to what is considered as his best work, and a comparison with the work of other American authors is as much as can be compassed within present limits.

Whether we consider Poe as a poet or a prose-writer he is distinguished in both capacities. As a poet the mass of his contributions is compara- tively small, but within it are poems which the world will not willingly let die. Who has not enjoyed the melody of “The Bells,” and the mel- ancholy of “The Raven”? But in “To Helen,” “Israfel,” “The City of the Sea,” “The Sleeper,”, “The Valley of Unrest,” “The Conqueror Worm,” and “The Haunted Palace,”, — to say nothing of “Ulalume” and “Annabel Lee,” — with their perfection of rhythm, their mellifluousness, their originality, and their undefinable mystery, the world acknowledges their author as among the masters of pure song.

In his prose tales Poe turns, often instinctively, as best harmonizing with his temperament, to the bizarre and mysterious aspects of life and experience, — the gloomy, the grim and the horrible; and here again he is differentiated from the writers of his time, and, as usual, individualistic. “Ligeia,” “The Fall of the House of Usher,” “The Pit and the Pendulum” will be found sufficiently representative of this class. In such tales [page 79:] as “The Murders in the Rue Morgue,” “The Mystery of Marie Roget,” “The Purloined Letter,” and “The Gold Bug,” the processes of acute and concentrated reasoning are powerfully represented; and in “The Black Cat,” “The Tell-Tale Heart,” “William Wilson” and “The Man of the Crowd,” problems of ethics or morality are involved and illustrated; while, as appertaining to the borderland between Science and Imagination, may be mentioned “The Case of M. Valdemar,” “The MS. Found in a Bottle,” and “The Balloon Hoax.” These examples are generally esteemed as including Poe's best prose work, and in perspicuity of thought, constructive power, and progressive activity are masterpieces of literary art, while in imaginative force, and analytical acumen they are incomparable in any literature.

But Poe was more than a poet and a prose-writer, for he was the most accomplished critic ever produced in America; as well as the ablest and most distinguished American editor, — apparent from the fact that, — as far back as 1840, he raised the circulation of a magazine with which he was editorially connected from 5,000 to 50,000 copies, in two years.

Above all, however, Poe is unique in the individuality of his work, in the exquisite artistry of his workmanship, in the virgin chastity of his art, and in the “ideal vision — incarnate or nebulous — of pure beauty” which ever floated before his mind, and which sustained him to the end. With whom shall I compare him in American literature? Not with Hawthorne whose power was also creative, but whose mind was saturated with the problems of Puritan life, and who lacked Poe's versatility and vivid imagination, while his temperament and character were in antithesis to those of Poe.

Emerson had no sympathy with Poe, and called him “a jingle man,” because, it may be assumed, Poe was too original for him; but, as a forcible modern writer says, — “While most of the doctrine of Emerson may be found elsewhere from Plato to Browning, Poe is unique.”

Longfellow had little in common with Poe but differed from him in toto by the universality of his sympathies, and in being loved by everybody, while the ever-varying grace and melody of his versification are so blent with the picturesque in Nature that his poetry touches and thrills every human heart with gladness. Longfellow estimated Poe's genius highly [page 80:] although the latter had injudiciously and undeservedly assailed the integrity of the elder poet, — perhaps the only stain on his escutcheon as a critic. While Lowell was altogether more robust than Poe in his attainments, he lacked the lyrical grace and ideality of Poe, in his poetry, as well as the artistic style and finish of his prose.

Bryant resembles Poe in his lack of human sympathy, but in no other respect; while Holmes, although strongly individualistic, like Poe, differs from him entirely in genial pervasive humour, and in his alternating tenderness of delicate feeling with mirthful satire.

Walt Whitman, with his rough poetic soul, had neither the appreciation of rhythmic form, nor the power to express what he felt, in the terms of poetry, so that there was but little affinity between him and Poe. There still remains J. Greenleaf Whittier, but it is needless to institute a comparison between two poets so diametrically opposed in creative force and sublimity of expression, in ideation and constructive power, and in artistic appreciation and workmanship.

Poe is, indeed, incomparable with any of his contemporaries in American Literary History; for he is uniquely personal, isolated, and unparallelled in every aspect of his individuality.

What place does he occupy in the Literary History of America? The estimate can only be briefly summarized here.

He was the first to introduce the short story into American literature, and of their kind, and so far as their limitations extend, his poems and tales are acknowledged by the world as master-pieces, unparallelled, and unsurpassed in literary art.

He was a consistent and uncompromising apostle of “Art for Art's sake.”

As a literary artist his work has never been equalled or excelled in American literature.

He introduced into America the highest form and purest type of independent literary criticism ever known between the two great oceans, and no more competent or accomplished editor ever sat in an American editorial chair; moreover, he upheld the standard of pure literature and pure art even amid the terrible circumstances of his unfortunate life, from first to last. [page 81:]

I, therefore, unhesitatingly claim for him the supremest genius which has shone over American fields and the highest place in the Literary History of his country.

His countrymen may not yet approve this estimate, but it has been generously and deservedly accorded by the other nations of the world; and the time is assuredly coming when Americans shall honour the work of Poe as that of her most gifted son.

[[Footnotes]]

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 77:]

* Atlantic Monthly, December, 1899.