Erhalten Sie Zugang zu diesem und mehr als 300000 Büchern ab EUR 5,99 monatlich.
- Herausgeber: SAMPI Books
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
In "The Man of the Crowd" by Edgar Allan Poe, the narrator becomes obsessed with following a mysterious old man through the bustling streets of London, intrigued by his enigmatic presence. This pursuit reveals the complexity of human nature and the impenetrability of urban anonymity.
Sie lesen das E-Book in den Legimi-Apps auf:
Seitenzahl: 17
Das E-Book (TTS) können Sie hören im Abo „Legimi Premium” in Legimi-Apps auf:
Ähnliche
The Man of the Crowd
Edgar Allan Poe
SYNOPSIS
In "The Man of the Crowd" by Edgar Allan Poe, the narrator becomes obsessed with following a mysterious old man through the bustling streets of London, intrigued by his enigmatic presence. This pursuit reveals the complexity of human nature and the impenetrability of urban anonymity.
Keywords
Observation, Anonymity, Mystery
NOTICE
This text is a work in the public domain and reflects the norms, values and perspectives of its time. Some readers may find parts of this content offensive or disturbing, given the evolution in social norms and in our collective understanding of issues of equality, human rights and mutual respect. We ask readers to approach this material with an understanding of the historical era in which it was written, recognizing that it may contain language, ideas or descriptions that are incompatible with today's ethical and moral standards.
Names from foreign languages will be preserved in their original form, with no translation.
The Man of the Crowd
Ce grand malheur, de ne pouvoir être seul.
—La Bruyère.
It was well said of a certain German book that “er lasst sich nicht lesen”—it does not permit itself to be read. There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told. Men die nightly in their beds, wringing the hands of ghostly confessors and looking them piteously in the eyes—die with despair of heart and convulsion of throat, on account of the hideousness of mysteries which will not suffer themselves to be revealed. Now and then, alas, the conscience of man takes up a burthen so heavy in horror that it can be thrown down only into the grave. And thus the essence of all crime is undivulged.
Not long ago, about the closing in of an evening in autumn, I sat at the large bow window of the D—— Coffee-House in London. For some months I had been ill in health, but was now convalescent, and, with returning strength, found myself in one of those happy moods which are so precisely the converse of ennui
