Yesterday, while poking around online with regard to Edgar Allan Poe and his spurious claim to have written "The Raven," I stumbled upon this magnificent photograph of a magnificent statue, which was erected in Boston, in 2014:
It occurred to me, as I am writing every potentially interested English professor in the country about Mathew Franklin Whittier's hidden literary accomplishments, that if I am successful in what I'm attempting to do, this statue will become an overnight embarrassment. And that is just the tip of the iceberg of the destruction I will be wreaking. Conceivably, some professor who has dedicated his or her life to the study and admiration of Edgar Allan Poe, might jump out a five-story window once Poe's nefarious theft of "The Raven"--from a man who had been in terrible grief when he shared that poem, in confidence, with him--and who took advantage of a man who couldn't come forward, because he was trying to set the slaves free, and risking his life in that effort--is known. You do see just how nasty Poe's act was, don't you? Mathew wasn't able to defend himself, publicly. If he had, his own life wouldn't have been worth a plugged nickel, and he wouldn't have been able to serve the cause of Abolition as he had been doing, under cover. Not that Poe cared--Poe was a Southerner from Virginia, who, as near as I can tell, carefully rode the fence regarding slavery.
So this will be very destructive to a lot of people--but it is absolutely necessary. The world cannot continue to believe that an unprincipled man wrote "The Raven" as a clever horror poem--and at the same time, admired intensely religious poet Francis Quarles enough to use "---- Quarles" as a pen name. The whole idea is ludicrous--a horror writer, writing a deeply spiritual poem about a faith crisis in terrible grief, as an academic exerise? And signing it with the name of a deeply religious poet? It's like a lion with a giraffe's head on it. You know what you do when you see a lion with a giraffe's head on it--you say to yourself, "I think I'm dreaming," and with luck, you may become lucid in your dream, or else you'll wake up.
I just sent the following e-mail to the people who have that photograph online, the Edgar Allan Poe Foundation in Boston. I'm quite sincere--but is there a hint of a devlish glint in my eye? Probably. I have been waiting a very long time to set this matter straight, after all:
I am very impressed by the statue of Poe and the raven which was erected in Boston in 2014; as I am with the night-time photographs taken of it (I spent many years pursuing fine-art photography). I have proven that Poe didn't write "The Raven," and am in the process of getting that information to the public. It's a hard sell, after all these years, but it's the truth, and "truth will out."
However, it saddens me to think that such a fundamental error will be attached to such a magnificent sculpture. Perhaps it will be appreciated on its own merits, even after Poe's authorship of "The Raven" has been publicly disproved.
This past weekend, I visited the websites of quite a few colleges, and culled out the bio pages of some 15 or 20 professors whom I need to write to, based on their particular areas of interest. I figured there was no point writing to them on the weekend, as the e-mail would only get lost in all the spam. So today the job I've set for myself is to write individual letters to each of these people. I don't expect to hear back from any of them. I did write one this weekend--to a lady who has spent her life studying Margaret Fuller, imagining that Fuller was the author of the star-signed reviews in the 1844-46 New York "Tribune." I carefully explained why she couldn't have been, and why Mathew Franklin Whittier was the real author. That one, too, is obvious if you take your conceptual blinders off and look at it objectively, with all the facts in place. Again, I haven't heard back and I don't really expect to. I feel for these people, but it must be done. They will go through a predictable series of reactions: first, they will derisively dismiss it, and me. But some intuitive part of them which can sense the truth, will recognize that it's true. That part of them will nag them, and nag them; eventually, they will have to look into it. Not seriously, at first. They will just want to get rid of that nagging feeling, to be able to dismiss it. But what they find will fan the flames of discomfort a little more...and the fire will grow. Their entire life's work is threatening to crumble around them--what had once seemed to be a solid edifice of granite, is now cracking like so much clay.
It's not a pleasant thought. I understand the feeling very well. It's a process that many people, in this modern age, are going to have to go through, before it's all done and we emerge out the other side, into the New Age. A great number of people are experiencing it as we speak; but they are ridiculed by the large society as "conspiracy theorists." This is more than a matter of uncovering various conspiracies--it is a global awakening out of delusion. Facing all the lies is a pre-requisite of growth. Lies cannot stand forever. They must, sooner or later, give way to truth.
If you think the work I'm doing is hard for people to face, wait until it is understood that that "St." Paul was a hypocrite who only pretended to have had a dramatic conversion experience on the road to Damascus, and who was stealing the words of the genuine apostles so as to sound spiritual to the more gullible portion of the early Church. He then mixed that up with his own Pharisee nonsense, like the "resurrection of the dead"--just as Poe mixed up "The Raven" with his own atrocious poetry, in "The Raven and Other Poems." Same M.O. This is easy to prove, logically, in a few simple steps:
1) Jesus was the Avatar, and could see unfailingly into men's hearts.
2) Jesus praised Peter's integrity, to such an extent that He exclaimed He would build His church "upon this rock."
3) Paul accused Peter of being a hypocrite.
4) Peter couldn't possibly have been a hypocrite.
5) The first line of defense, for a hypocrite, is projection.
6) Paul was a hypocrite.
Never mind what to do with the statue of Poe and the Raven--what should we do with all those churches named after St. Paul? And then there's the matter of those letters...
Stephen Sakellarios, M.S.
Music opening this page, "Awaken," by Eric Johnson,
from the album, "Up Close"