by Poe · Cluster: Temptation · Good vs Evil · Serpent Snake
Abstract
A Demon recounts how he cursed a desolate Libyan landscape first with tumult then with silence, driving a solitary Roman figure to flight; a parable of desolation, the supernatural and the terror of silence.
Readability (prose)71 Flesch ease9 FK grade11.3 Fog6% complex22.8 words/sent
Connections
Archetypes: Satanic Figure, Outsider Motifs: Silence, Supernatural, Storm, River, Moon, Blood, Nature Themes & Concepts: Terror and Horror, Uncanny, Melancholy Forms & Genres: Fable, Allegory Historical References: Ancient Rome
Testo integrale / Full text
“The mountain pinnacles slumber; valleys, crags and caves are silent.”
“Listen to me,” said the Demon as he placed his hand upon my
head. “The region of which I speak is a dreary region in Libya,
by the borders of the river Zaire. And there is no quiet there,
nor silence.
“The waters of the river have a saffron and sickly hue; and they
flow not onwards to the sea, but palpitate forever and forever
beneath the red eye of the sun with a tumultuous and convulsive
motion. For many miles on either side of the river’s oozy bed is
a pale desert of gigantic water-lilies. They sigh one unto the
other in that solitude, and stretch towards the heaven their long
and ghastly necks, and nod to and fro their everlasting heads.
And there is an indistinct murmur which cometh out from among
them like the rushing of subterrene water. And they sigh one unto
the other.
“But there is a boundary to their realm—the boundary of the dark,
horrible, lofty forest. There, like the waves about the Hebrides,
the low underwood is agitated continually. But there is no wind
throughout the heaven. And the tall primeval trees rock eternally
hither and thither with a crashing and mighty sound. And from
their high summits, one by one, drop everlasting dews. And at the
roots strange poisonous flowers lie writhing in perturbed
slumber. And overhead, with a rustling and loud noise, the gray
clouds rush westwardly forever, until they roll, a cataract, over
the fiery wall of the horizon. But there is no wind throughout
the heaven. And by the shores of the river Zaire there is neither
quiet nor silence.
“It was night, and the rain fell; and falling, it was rain, but,
having fallen, it was blood. And I stood in the morass among the
tall and the rain fell upon my head—and the lilies sighed one
unto the other in the solemnity of their desolation.
“And, all at once, the moon arose through the thin ghastly mist,
and was crimson in color. And mine eyes fell upon a huge gray
rock which stood by the shore of the river, and was lighted by
the light of the moon. And the rock was gray, and ghastly, and
tall,—and the rock was gray. Upon its front were characters
engraven in the stone; and I walked through the morass of
water-lilies, until I came close unto the shore, that I might
read the characters upon the stone. But I could not decypher
them. And I was going back into the morass, when the moon shone
with a fuller red, and I turned and looked again upon the rock,
and upon the characters, and the characters were DESOLATION.
“And I looked upwards, and there stood a man upon the summit of
the rock; and I hid myself among the water-lilies that I might
discover the actions of the man. And the man was tall and stately
in form, and was wrapped up from his shoulders to his feet in the
toga of old Rome. And the outlines of his figure were
indistinct—but his features were the features of a deity; for the
mantle of the night, and of the mist, and of the moon, and of the
dew, had left uncovered the features of his face. And his brow
was lofty with thought, and his eye wild with care; and, in the
few furrows upon his cheek I read the fables of sorrow, and
weariness, and disgust with mankind, and a longing after
solitude.
“And the man sat upon the rock, and leaned his head upon his
hand, and looked out upon the desolation. He looked down into the
low unquiet shrubbery, and up into the tall primeval trees, and
up higher at the rustling heaven, and into the crimson moon. And
I lay close within shelter of the lilies, and observed the
actions of the man. And the man trembled in the solitude;—but the
night waned, and he sat upon the rock.
“And the man turned his attention from the heaven, and looked out
upon the dreary river Zaire, and upon the yellow ghastly waters,
and upon the pale legions of the water-lilies. And the man
listened to the sighs of the water-lilies, and to the murmur that
came up from among them. And I lay close within my covert and
observed the actions of the man. And the man trembled in the
solitude;—but the night waned and he sat upon the rock.
“Then I went down into the recesses of the morass, and waded afar
in among the wilderness of the lilies, and called unto the
hippopotami which dwelt among the fens in the recesses of the
morass. And the hippopotami heard my call, and came, with the
behemoth, unto the foot of the rock, and roared loudly and
fearfully beneath the moon. And I lay close within my covert and
observed the actions of the man. And the man trembled in the
solitude;—but the night waned and he sat upon the rock.
“Then I cursed the elements with the curse of tumult; and a
frightful tempest gathered in the heaven where, before, there had
been no wind. And the heaven became livid with the violence of
the tempest—and the rain beat upon the head of the man—and the
floods of the river came down—and the river was tormented into
foam—and the water-lilies shrieked within their beds—and the
forest crumbled before the wind—and the thunder rolled—and the
lightning fell—and the rock rocked to its foundation. And I lay
close within my covert and observed the actions of the man. And
the man trembled in the solitude;—but the night waned and he sat
upon the rock.
“Then I grew angry and cursed, with the curse of silence, the
river, and the lilies, and the wind, and the forest, and the
heaven, and the thunder, and the sighs of the water-lilies. And
they became accursed, and were still. And the moon ceased to
totter up its pathway to heaven—and the thunder died away—and the
lightning did not flash—and the clouds hung motionless—and the
waters sunk to their level and remained—and the trees ceased to
rock—and the water-lilies sighed no more—and the murmur was heard
no longer from among them, nor any shadow of sound throughout the
vast illimitable desert. And I looked upon the characters of the
rock, and they were changed; and the characters were SILENCE.
“And mine eyes fell upon the countenance of the man, and his
countenance was wan with terror. And, hurriedly, he raised his
head from his hand, and stood forth upon the rock and listened.
But there was no voice throughout the vast illimitable desert,
and the characters upon the rock were SILENCE. And the man
shuddered, and turned his face away, and fled afar off, in haste,
so that I beheld him no more.”
Now there are fine tales in the volumes of the Magi—in the
iron-bound, melancholy volumes of the Magi. Therein, I say, are
glorious histories of the Heaven, and of the Earth, and of the
mighty sea—and of the Genii that over-ruled the sea, and the
earth, and the lofty heaven. There was much lore too in the
sayings which were said by the Sybils; and holy, holy things were
heard of old by the dim leaves that trembled around Dodona—but,
as Allah liveth, that fable which the Demon told me as he sat by
my side in the shadow of the tomb, I hold to be the most
wonderful of all! And as the Demon made an end of his story, he
fell back within the cavity of the tomb and laughed. And I could
not laugh with the Demon, and he cursed me because I could not
laugh. And the lynx which dwelleth forever in the tomb, came out
therefrom, and lay down at the feet of the Demon, and looked at
him steadily in the face.