What it do baby?
This week we bringin down da house with The Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allen Poe. My man.
It’s a dull, dark, and soundless day up at da House of Usher- where our nameless narrator
just dropped in to see his back-when homeboy Roderick Usher.
Apparently ol’ Roddy been sick so he sent da narrator a letter basically sayin: “Dear
bruh, I’m feelin like shit.
Get yo ass over here and help a brutha out.
Don’t be a dick.”
Now you’d think anybody would wanna chill wit’ his boy up in his MANSION- but this
crib is busted as hell- even got a small crack runnin from da roof to the flo’.
Just LOOKIN’ at this fugly shit make da narrator feel like he got an opium hangover.
Word is dat Roderick and his sistah Madeline are the last survivin’ Ushers. and he don’t
count.
Anyway, the narrator rolls in to the spot, peep game at Roderick and be like “Damn,
son.
You lookin way whiter than usual.”
Roderick say ”Man I’m straight buggin, yo.
My sister Madeline’s got some bodyillness and da doctors can’t do shit bout it.
Not only dat, but this house is MESSIN wit my mind, makin’ me all superstitious and
too scurred to leave da crib.”
So da narrator go in to full on bromode, and starts paintin’ and readin’ wit him to
get him to stop mopin’ around like a lil’ bitch.
But nuthin’ can break Roddy from dat funk.
Boy start flowin’ bout a king livin’ large in a PHAT palace.
But when some evil spirits start runnin up on his crib hauntin the damn place, it go
from swanky to straight janky.
Soon Madeleine stops moving’ and Roderick like “AWWW shit, she dead man!”
Then fool start gettin’ all paranoid dat a buncha doctors gonna drop in outta nowhere
and study her body fo’ science.
Yeah they will!
Roderick trippin so hard dat he decide he gonna stash her body in a vault fo’ two
weeks befo he move her outta da house.
So da narrator, bein da realest homie there is, helps his boy carry his sister’s dead
body and nail her ass in a coffin, and secure it behind an iron door.
Right befo’ he do, he peep Madeline’s face and be like “Oh shit, this girl smilin!
AND she got rosy cheeks!”
Aw fuck it, just don’t look at her and keep on keepin’ on.“
Over the next couple days Roderick mind slippin’ mo’ and mo’- he always lookin’ like
he hearin’ noises and da narrator start wonderin’ if he hiding something.
A week after they stuffed her in da coffin, Roddy come bustin’ through da narrator’s
door losin’ his shit over some creepy glowin’ gas round da house.
Da narrator like “Boy calm yo ass down.
Dat’s just somethin’ dat happens.”
Knowin he gotta get this crazy ass dude to sleep, da narrator cracks open a book and
starts reading bout a hard-ass dragonslayer makin a dragon his bitch.
Crazy thing is, tho, errytime a sound is described in da book, Rod and da narrator hear it echoed
in da house.
Like when da knight busts in to da dragon’ lair, they hear “cracking and ripping”
sounds somewhere in da house.
Da hell??
Eventually Roderick completely break down and start smilin’ and mutterin’ to himself
like a real creep.
Dude say he been hearin’ these noises fo’ days and it’s MADELINE who makin’ em...
“we musta buried her alive man.”
Then all da sudden Roddy like “BREAK YO’SELF FOOL.
SHE AT THE DO!”
And sho’ nuff there Madeleine is, all bloodied up from bustin out.
Girl collapses on Roderick and they both drop dead Roderick
from fear, and her from ya know... gettin BURIED ALIVE.
Da narrator like “Uhhhh...
Time for me to get my ass outta here” and straight BOOKS it.
As he haulin ass away from da house, he look back and watch da whole place crumble to da ground.
Errybody in da hood know my boy Poe like to keep it dark.
But mo’ than any other famous EAP jams, Usher perhaps BEST representin’ da “gothic”
style of lit dat define Poe’s flow.
I mean dis story got nasty weather, a creepy haunted mansion, some mystery sickness, hidden
vaults, medieval decor, and da unnerving sense dat some WHACKASS Thriller shit bout to go
down.
And you know what else makes my nuts shrivel up?
TWINS.
CREEPY MAN!
And apparently Poe feel me on dat one, cuz there be doubling all up in this text.
Not only are Roderick and his sistah Madeline twins, but they both pale, skinny as hell,
and sufferin’ from some shady illnesses Roderick sick in da mind, while Madeline got
da funk in her body.
As da story go on, their roles start reversin.
At first Madeleine wastin’ away all bedridden wit’ no control over life.
Roderick gotta be da man of da house.
But after they put her ass in da vault, Roderick start tweakin so hard dat HE da one who gotta
give up control.
Shit, he even need one his bruthas to read him a damn story just so he won’t shit himself.
Madeline, tho- dat girl ain’t playin.
She sacks up and BUSTS outta dat coffin even though it was NAILED DOWN AND sealed with
an iron door.
This DEAD girl got a superhuman will to LIVE- ain’t dat some shit?
And as if dat wasn’t real enough, she even associated with dat hard-ass dragonslayer
in dat story “Mad Trist.”
While Madeline flexin’ her strength by fightin’ her way out of a stuffy ass coffin afta’
bein left in there for a WEEK, her brotha Roddy- da man of da house- turns in to whiny
lil’ bitch.
Now dat title got some twin shit goin on too- cuz it got two meanings.
On one hand it talkin bout da house dat literally crumble to shit by da end.
But on da other hand, it’s referring to da Usher family bloodline.
Cuz afta’ Roddy and Madeline’s bodies get stacked, there ain’t no mo’ Ushers
on da family tree to carry on da name.
When it feelin’ like its only a matter of time befo’ yo life and yo legacy gonna get
fucked, it’s hard not to feel like you trapped in a bunk ass situation.
Matta’ fact, da house’s cramped, claustrophobic rooms further dem themes of confinement, isolation,
and loneliness.
And to make matters worse, da house cause errybody in
there go cray in the dome and gear up for a 5150-
With da whole world closin in round him, Roderick feelin’ mad alone.
So he reach out to da narrator to help a brutha out.
Cuz when da shit gonna hit da fan, it’s way easier to cope when you got one of yo
homeboys at yo back.
The epigraph reppin dat same idea:
Yo thanks for watching, man! Peace!