Behind the Curtain

At twenty-six, Poe had three unsuccessful volumes of poetry to his credit and was trying to get noticed by submitting his short stories to writing contests. He complained, “to be appreciated, one must be read,” but he just couldn’t get his works in front of enough readers. Just when making a living from his pen seemed impossible, he got an offer from a new magazine in Richmond called The Southern Literary Messenger. Sure, the magazine was only a year old and still had only had 500 subscribers, but Poe saw its potential to finally make his name.

The editor, Thomas Willis White, knew little about literature, but he believed the South was in desperate need of a magazine that would publish the latest works by southern authors. At the time, the country’s most popular authors lived in the big northern cities like New York and Boston. White wanted his magazine to be a showcase for the best southern literature, but barely anyone was buying it. His first editor left after a year because White could not afford to pay him. Mr. White, it seemed, had nothing to lose by publishing the work of the unknown Poe.

To introduce himself to the Messenger’s readers, Poe sent a new story named “Berenice.” The response was immediate. The public was disgusted and outraged by this gruesome terror tale. Such tales, they thought, would warp young people’s minds and bring about the downfall of society. White was furious. Poe was delighted.

As Poe explained in a letter to White, this was exactly the kind of story that would sell magazines. Poe offered to supply a new story every month and that each one would be completely unique, unlike anything anyone had ever read. White took Poe up on his offer, and the Messenger’s subscription rate soared. The magazine established a national reputation, and Poe was famous—or infamous—for his imaginative (and sometimes controversial) stories. Thanks to his first horror story, “Berenice,” Poe was well on his way to becoming the master of the tale of psychological terror. Poe followed “Berenice” with the horror stories “Morella” and “Ligeia.” Years later, Poe wrote that he considered “Ligeia” his best tale.

When you listen to “Berenice,” see if you can guess the twist ending and why it offended so many people back in Poe’s day.

Storytellers Channel will soon be releasing an audio book Poe’s Dead Bride Stories: Berenice, Morella and Ligeia.

This post was written by Chris Semtner, Curator at the Poe Museum.

The Storytellers Channel is initiating a project to record the entire Edgar Allan Poe canon. We encourage you to visit our homepage and download the FREE Audio Book: The Tell-Tale Heart. We hope you enjoy it and we look forward to your feedback.

Poe wrote over 130 works. He’s credited with inventing the detective story. His horror stories are as chilling today as we imagine they were when they were first unveiled. Of equal interest for us; Poe was the first American to try to make a living solely as a writer.

We’ve started with The Tell-Tale Heart because The Poe Museum in Richmond, VA asked Gayle Turner to give a public reading of it in their garden last summer. That’s where we got the idea. Many thanks to Matthew Whitworth and his colleagues at Overcoast USA recording studios. And Charles George of Entrepreneur Impact for his masterminding this effort.

Of equal importance, we thank the Poe Museum’s Executive Director, Jaime Fawcett, and their brilliant curator, Chris Semtner, who will be providing editorial content of the newsletter which will be our vehicle for promoting our recordings of Poe’s canon.

Future issues of this newsletter will contain a brief story about Poe, his work and what might have been going on when he wrote a particular piece.

We hope you’ll join us for this celebration of a great American artist.

My daddy was a storyteller. I loved his stories. They were just one of the reasons I so enjoyed spending time with him.  He always had a story to share.  Sometimes it was a new story; often it was one I’d heard before.

He had stories about growing up, stories about the Navy, stories about the job.  He had stories about courting my mom, stories about playing cards, stories about me.  Most of all he had stories about the consequences of behaving one way or another.

Some of his stories were short, some not so; many of his stories were funny, but not all. 

Daddy was a brick mason who specialized in residential remodeling. He used to tell a story about his favorite laborer, Junie.  Daddy discouraged sitting down on the job.  If you’d finished what he’d asked you to do, he’d say, “look around and find someplace to keep moving. No homeowner wants to look out the window and see men sitting around. They already think the job costs too much and seeing guys sitting around just confirms that suspicion.”

Well, one day daddy had left Junie on a job site digging the footing for an addition.  The freeze line in Virginia is 16 inches and so footings for foundations have to be at least 18 inches below the grade. Well, Junie got down to 18 inches and daddy hadn’t returned. So, Junie tidied up the job site and daddy still hadn’t returned.  For the next several hours Junie squared off the edges of the footing and smoothed out the bottom and by the time daddy returned Junie was standing almost up to his hips in ground.  He started apologizing up and down and daddy told him to relax.  He’d done what he’d been told and daddy accepted the responsibility for the results.  That little addition had a serious foundation.

Daddy used to tell that story over and over again.  He had a bias for action and that story dove tailed with one of his sayings, “Do something. I can fix wrong, I can’t fix nothing.”  Grammatically incorrect, but it made the point and has stuck with me to this day.

My dad passed away back in ’92 and yet all these years later when I rack my brain looking for a solution, frequently the way to that solution is led by remembering one of his stories.

When you’re not around; what do you want your children to remember? Your grandchildren? When you’re not there; what do want your colleagues to remember? Your employees? What’s important to you? Do you share the wisdom your elders shared with you?  What about the lessons you’ve learned the hard way over the years?

Stories are infectious. They’re easier to remember than facts alone and more effective at engendering action. There’s a dictum in sales that “Facts tell, stories sell.”  Or put another way, stories influence behavior.

I encourage you to spend a little time thinking about what you have to offer, that you’d like people to remember and then invest a little more time in packaging the value you have to offer in an effective form, i.e. as stories.

I can promise you, you’ll be pleased with the ROI.  Worst case scenario, a little quiet time spent reflecting brings perspective.  More likely, the world will be a better place for your sharing your wisdom in an accessible manner.

Brighten my day; tell me a story.