Wednesday, July 21, 2010

oh fuck

if you think that edgar allan was simply some sort of weaselly, sad, ne'erdowell, then you are mistaken. he was, in fact, a sex panther with two hobbies. you figure them out.

fanny osgood, onetime lover and (allegedly) bearer of their illicit baby girl, who died in infancy. fanny was crazy, dark, prone to spells, and the most eminent female writer in the country, for a time. she was also married. her husband thought the child was theirs.

she met poe for the first time in 1845. he greeted her with "...his proud and beautiful head erect, his dark eyes flashing with the elective light of of feeling and thought; a peculiar, an inimitable blending of sweetness and hauteur in his expression and manner."

SWEETNESS AND HAUTEUR! just the way i am described, no doubt. to be fair, i think she was already in love. or whatever sensation histrionic writerly ladies feel. fanny was not the only woman to write in her diary or to compose letters to other women about the compelling e.a.p. that year. in fact, there was a little cadre.

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