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The Inner World of Ulalume, by Edgar Allan Poe
By W. G. Koenigsmann-Rodrique   
Not "rated" by the Author.
Last edited: Friday, March 30, 2007
Posted: Saturday, August 06, 2005

This brief essay explores the "inner world" of Edgar Allan Poe's Ulalume.

     The complexity of Edgar Allan Poe's Ulalume is established by its thought-provoking content and elusive quality, including the echoing tones and picturesque layers; mystic nuances and atmospheres; last but not least, the differing levels of consciousness that go beyond the confines of mere reality.
     The tone of Ulalume concerns a deep disappointment, a regret that cannot be assuaged; this tragedy is essentially beyond reparation and becomes a permanent scar of the soul.  In addition, Poe creates a moody, lush, and surreal atmosphere that questions the very reality of existence.
     It has been said that this poem is about the people in our past, those who stay with us long after they are gone. Ulalume herself is a symbol of this longing deferred; forgotten for a while, at least consciousely, she is brought back again, bringing her victim to the horror at hands of fate.
     The deep despair, overwhelming at best, causes the protagonist to wander aimlessly, only to waken from his lucid nightmare in consternation, without any escape.
     The poem's gloomy layers of the subconscious build, one on top of the other: sulphurous currents; luminous eyes; sighs; lamentable voices; withered leaves . . . such images create a chilling yet irrefutable atmosphere of an intense, ghost-haunted underworld; a limbo of dread consciousness, hanging half-suspended between belief and disbelief; then, finally, the conscious realisation of the dark truth one had always suspected existed, as Psyche hangs her head down in dismay.
     These nuances of language add a funereal gloom and distinct, mournful drone; the repetitive words and phrases; the despairing musical sound of the soul. With each echo, the agonised souls of Hell mirror our own subconscious.
     We are led through dark caverns of our own oft-hidden selves: the depressive, oppressive, and repressed atmosphere as Dark Muse, who pushes us closer to the edge, where we cling, dagger-clagged. 
     The dream that is not a dream reveals itself through introspection, but a not implausible reality of an existentialist dilemma: faced with the spiritual issues of free will, we are confined by the knowledge that we are not in control.
     "Something" out there, is watching, waiting, and moving us . . . pawns on the chessboard of life.  Something is out there, whether dark Astarte, or the planetary Hell of our deepest feelings and darkest regrets.  Something undefinable and evil is against both the hero of Ulalume, and, against us.