We’ve spent a lot of time on this channel studying some pretty grim stuff.
Cosmic Horror, the loss of identity, the fragility of mortal life.
I love exploring that side of fiction, but after a while it… starts to wear on the
psyche a bit.
So I want to take a small step back from it… with Edgar Allan Poe.
I know, I know, not typically the person you turn to for hope and light, but he did write
two stories that shocked me with their optimism.
Both of them are about death and mesmerism, spirituality and the afterlife, individuality
and the cosmos… and they’re not even really that dark.
Okay, well one of them is, but the other is actually almost… the opposite of some of
that grimmer stuff we’ve been studying.
So, prepare for a little journey out of darkness.
I want to show you how Edgar Allan Poe of all people refuted cosmic horror and offered
up a surprisingly beautiful alternative.
A big thanks to Skillshare for helping to make this video happen, but an even bigger
thanks to all our patreon supporters who…
literally helped make this video.
The part of the show you don’t see is how our Patrons join us for live research sessions
to figure all of this out!
And the ideas they share really do sculpt these videos.
A big shout-out one Patron in particular: RVMPLSTLKSN, suggesting we research pantheism
was an amazing idea for this video.
Thank you so much!
I guess you could loosely call the two stories I want to share with you here “ghost stories”,
but they’re honestly a whole lot weirder than that.
They’re also sort of science fiction, and they’re hoaxes as well, written as though
they had actually happened.
So, bear that in mind as we begin.
Let’s start with the darker of the two: The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar.
The narrator of our story is a mesmerist, who’s been running experiments with the
pseudo-science for some time to varying degrees of success.
But he’d always harbored one great curiosity about his work: what would happen if you were
to mesmerize someone as they died?
Lucky for him, one of his regular patients turns out to be terminally ill.
Enthusiastically, the patient—one M. Valdemar—accepts the proposal to run this experiment.
So, the man’s time of death is projected as precisely as possible, and when that time
approaches, the narrator gathers together with the dying man and several other attending
doctors, as well as a witness.
Finally, at Valdemar’s urging, they commence the trance.
All seems fairly normal, patient answering whatever questions put to him in his dream-like
state, reporting on his condition.
But then, as his body starts to give out and he slowly expired, he somehow continues to
report on his condition, saying eventually that he is dying, and then… that he is dead.
Eerily, the voice seems no longer to emanating from his mouth, but from some place far away.
Not knowing what else to do, the narrator and company leave the patient in this mesmerized
state of undeath for a period of SEVEN MONTHS, checking in daily.
The whole time, he appears to be pale, without a pulse, no perceptible breathing, cold to
the touch—clearly dead, but not decaying; not advancing beyond that state.
Eventually they decide that they have to try waking him.
Perhaps they had arrested death after all.
Perhaps he would still be alive.
And if not, at least he will finally be able to pass on.
But as the narrator brings his patient out of the trance, the voice returns.
This time it is not so calm.
This time it is screaming, pleading for him to stop dallying and make a decision.
“For God’s sake!” it says, “—quick!—quick!—put me to sleep—or, quick!—waken me!—quick!—I
say to you that I am dead!”
Hearing this, the narrator rapidly brings Valdemar out of the trance… only for the
seven month’s postponed death to catch up with him then and there.
His body erodes and liquifies almost instantaneously into what the narrator describes as a “loathsome
mass of detestable putrescence.”
And that… is where the account ends.
You might already be thinking hey, what happened to that optimism you were promising?
That’s a pretty unsettling story…
Well it’s coming, I promise!
This is actually the second of the two Poe wrote about this idea, and far and way the
darker of the pair.
You’ll get it after I explain the other one, trust me.
It’s called Mesmeric Revelation, and it’s unlike almost anything else I’ve ever read.
It’s… barely a story at all, if I’m being honest.
The basic concept is pretty much the same: a person is mesmerized at his time of death,
and strangeness ensues.
Where these stories differ is in their tones and the results of this bizarre setup.
This time, instead of the narrator approaching his terminally-ill patient about the experiment,
the patient—one Mr. Vankirk—proposes it himself, saying that whenever the narrator
has mesmerized him in the past, he’s always experienced a deep, almost transformative
clarity about the nature of his own mortality.
But alas, he could never quite grasp the revelations teasing at the edge of his vision.
Maybe this time, so very close to crossing the veil of death, he finally will?
Of course, the narrator agrees to the experiment and entrances Vankirk one last time.
Soon, the two of them are in a long and rambling conversation, the patient speaking as if from
a different mouth altogether; a higher authority.
He’s more lucid—more articulate—than ever, and the things he says are profound.
They discuss everything from the nature of mortality to the presence of God in all things.
And this is why I say Mesmeric Revelation is barely a story.
The majority of it seems to be Poe using these characters to explore some interesting philosophies
about the metaphysical.
The mesmerized Vankirk waxes scholarly about the way that human sensory organs narrow the
ability to perceive the cosmos, and how people are individuals in life but join back together
into one divine consciousness afterward, for instance.
I’ll talk more about the ideas in this story soon, but suffice to say for now that this
guy is a smidge more involved than Valdemar.
But eventually Vankirk’s body can hold out no longer, and perceiving this difficulty
in his patient’s face, the narrator decides to wake him from the trance immediately.
He’s surprised to find that the man is already dead, head motionless on the pillow with a
radiant grin across his features.
In fact, he seems to have been for some time, forcing the narrator to wonder whether his
patient had been, quote, “(addressing him) from out of the region of the shadows”.
That’s… a lot, isn’t it?
I certainly thought so the first time I read it.
One part pseudo-scifi, one part dark romance, fifteen parts existential diatribe about our
place in the cosmos.
It took me a long time to realize how beautiful this story actually is.
And through this story, I was even able to read Valdemar again and see the glimmer of
beauty beneath the… *checks notes* “loathsome mass of detestable putresence”.
Mm.
I think part of my initial confusion reading these stories came from the fact that they
seem to be about the spectacle of mesmerism.
Certainly, Valdemar reads that way, and Mesmeric Revelation is so dense, it’s sort of hard
to know what it’s about.
When Poe first published them, they were picked up by newspapers, organizations, and individuals
who all wanted to use them as case studies for their belief in the pseudo-science.
Either they disregarded that they were written as hoaxes, or didn’t know.
Some even claimed to have replicated the experiments from these stories to great success, which…
wow.
Kind of embarrassing.
But Poe made it very clear from the start that he only ever intended for them to be
taken as hoaxes.
“Some few persons believe it—but I do not—and don’t you”, he wrote to one
inquirer.
Like so much of the best science fiction, the scientific marvel isn’t what makes these
stories resonate.
It’s what that science means for the people it touches; for their perception of themselves
and the world around them.
Mesmerism as a practice was all about a principle called animal magnetism, which suggested that
the cosmos is suffused with a “magnetic fluid”, flowing invisibly through all things.
Thus, it makes an unseen point of connection between all people, so that one person can
exert an influence over another and lull them into a sort of “mesmeric trance” or “crisis”.
In this projected state the entranced individual would supposedly acquire a clearer vision
of reality, unclouded by the rudiments of sensory organs.
As one source puts it, “all opacity is removed, and every object becomes luminous and transparent.”
After reading Mesmeric Revelation (and a bunch of Poe’s other Sci-fi to boot, that man
has a weird catalogue), I can’t help but feel he saw something greater in this.
Through the principles of mesmerism, the story explores a version of reality where there
is no division between the spiritual and the material.
The “magnetic fluid” is described in the story simply as a level at which matter becomes
so fine, it’s no longer particulate or even atomic—it all coalesces into one ultimate
substance.
One combined thing.
Thus, Vankirk reasons, all is technically one.
Living things are only separated from the rest of the universe by their consciousness
while they’re alive; that narrowing of perception that results from sensory organs and physical
limitation.
Your meat brain can’t fathom it all, your eyes can’t see, which is why mesmerism provides
such clarity.
And finally, all of this means that death itself is simply, quote, “the painful metamorphosis”;
the worm once again becoming the butterfly.
To put that all very simply, and more in line with the verbiage of the story: according
to this story, everyone and everything, together, is God.
What Poe found in mesmerism wasn’t just a flashy new pseudo-science to speculate at:
he found philosophies about the universe.
What he found… was pantheism and materialism.
Materialism in that this practice reduces the spirit to a substance—that “magnetic
fluid”—which allows all things to be connected, no longer separated as physical and metaphysical.
And he found pantheism in that, according to the story, this material unity of all things
is the divine.
Now I don’t personally have very strong feelings about any one existential philosophy
or another, but I feel about this the way that I feel about Cosmic Horror.
If we can ask whether we are isolated and alone in a cruel and indifferent cosmos, can’t
we also ask whether we are the cosmos?
If we can write fiction about cosmic entities who cradle reality in their hands, can’t
we also write fiction about us cradling it in our own?
The cosmos is vast, and we as individuals are small.
This is true.
How we react to that is up to us.
It doesn’t have to be a source of fear and nihilism.
And fiction is the place where reality becomes what we want it to.
So why not explore this hopeful concept just as thoroughly?
There is beauty in this vision of the universe, and ideas here to find.
Poe knew it, and look at the strange things he was able to create as a result!
I hope you’ll share what you come up with in the comments!
And then, when you go on to create something from these ideas, I hope you’ll share that
with us as well!
If… you manage to create anything at all.
It’s one thing to feel inspired, but it’s another thing entirely to turn that inspiration
into a creation.
Unfortunately I don’t have the time in this video to walk you through that process, but
I do know someone who does.
I recently found a 14-part video series called Creative Writing Bootcamp, and it just…
it gives you so much to start with if you’re a new writer.
There are things in here I wish I’d been told ten years ago.
Things like where ideas come from, how to relate to your characters, how to write conversations,
settings—even how to go against the common wisdom and write what you don’t know.
The series was put together by bestselling author Myla (My-la) Goldberg, and her enthusiasm
and joy as she teaches is absolutely contagious.
You will end the series ready to write something.
And, thanks to our sponsor, skillshare, you can actually watch it for free.
This is what skillshare is all about, after all: providing a platform for creatives to
stand up and share their skills with the community.
And the community there is big.
People have created on creative writing, illustration, fine art, animation, graphic design, film
and video—just about any creative field you can think of, experts have stepped up
to share their knowledge about… on skillshare.
You can even join in on live classes, connecting with other creators and teachers while you
learn!
Skillshare is usually really affordable, less than $10 a month for an annual premium membership.
But they also wanted to make absolute certain you would be able to get access to that creative
writing bootcamp class we were mentioning earlier—as well as any other classes that
catch your interest—so they’ve given you the opportunity to do it for free.
Until the end of September, the first 1,000 Tale Foundry fans who join the skillshare
community will get not just the usual 15-day trial for free, but a full 30-day trial!
An entire month of free learning and expert guidance on all the creative things you’ve
ever wanted to do!
Click the link in the description, or the link at the end of the video to get started!
And I would definitely hurry, because those slots are going to fill up fast.
Once you’ve watched through the Myla Goldberg’s creative writing bootcamp, please, please
come back to tell us the impact it’s had on you as a writer.
I cannot wait to hear the success stories!
And… that’s it for this video!
There’s usually a few weeks between uploads, so if you want more Tale foundry in the mean-time,
come join our community!
We have a discord server that’s basically like a big family of creatives—a lot of
love, there.
We also run writing groups on Twitch every week, if you want to get some practice in!
You can find links to all of it in the description.
Hope to see you there!
Until then, thanks for watching, and keep making stuff up!
I’ll see you…
next time.