The Murders in the Rue Morgue

By Edgar Allan Poe and Robert Giddings

"Where was the detective story until Poe breathed the breath of life into it?" —Arthur Conan Doyle In The Murders in the Rue Morgue, all of Paris is in shock following the ghastly murder of two women—but with all witnesses claiming to have heard the suspect speak a different language, the police are stumped. When Dupin finds a suspicious hair at the crime scene, and places an advert in the newspaper asking if anyone has lost an "Ourang-Outang," things take an unexpected turn. In The Mystery of Marie Roget, Dupin and his sidekick undertake to solve the murder of the beautiful youngwoman who works in a perfume shop, whose body is found floating in the Seine. The Purloined Letter, the final story, finds Dupin engaged on a matter of national importance: ahighly compromising letter has been pilfered from the Queen's private drawing room. The police know who the unscrupulous culprit is, but they can not find the letter, and therefore are unable to pin the crime on him. It it is up to Dupin to solve the case—which he does, with characteristic flair. A master of rational deduction and intellectual insight, andprotoype for Holmes and Poirot, Dupin sees things for what they are, rather than what they appear to be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Atlantic Books
• Release date: Feb 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781782399537

Edgar Allan Poe

Dan Ariely is James B. Duke Professor of Psychology and Behavioral Economics at Duke University and Sunday Times bestselling author of Predictably Irrational: The Hidden Forces that Shape Our Decisions. Ariely's TED talks have over 10 million views; he has 90,000 Twitter followers; and probably the second most famous Behavioural Economist in the World after Daniel Kahneman.

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Notes

The Murders in the Rue Morgue

What song the Syrens sang or what name Achilles assumed when he hid himself among women, although puzzling questions are not beyond all conjecture. – SIR THOMAS BROWNE, Urn-Burial.

THE mental features discoursed of as the analytical, are, in themselves, but little susceptible of analysis. We appreciate them only in their effects. We know of them, among other things, that they are always to their possessor, when inordinately possessed, a source of the liveliest enjoyment. As the strong man exults in his physical ability, delighting in such exercises as call his muscles into action, so glories the analyst in that moral activity which disentangles. He derives pleasure from even the most trivial occupations bringing his talents into play. He is fond of enigmas, of conundrums, of hieroglyphics; exhibiting in his solutions of each a degree of acumen which appears to the ordinary apprehension preternatural. His results, brought about by the very soul and essence of method, have, in truth, the whole air of intuition. The faculty of re-solution is possibly much invigorated by mathematical study, and especially by that highest branch of it which, unjustly, and merely on account of its retrograde operations, has been called, as if par excellence, analysis. Yet to calculate is not in itself to analyse. A chess-player, for example, does the one without effort at the other. It follows that the game of chess, in its effects upon mental character, is greatly misunderstood. I am not now writing a treatise, but simply prefacing a somewhat peculiar narrative by observations very much at random; I will, therefore, take occasion to assert that the higher powers of the reflective intellect are more decidedly and more usefully tasked by the unostentatious game of draughts than by all the elaborate frivolity of chess. In this latter, where the pieces have different and bizarre motions, with various and variable values, what is only complex is mistaken (a not unusual error) for what is profound. The attention is here called powerfully into play. If it flag for an instant, an oversight is committed, resulting in injury or defeat. The possible moves being not only manifold but involute, the chances of such oversights are multiplied; and in nine cases out of ten it is the more concentrative rather than the more acute player who conquers. In draughts, on the contrary, where the moves are unique and have but little variation, the probabilities of inadvertence are diminished, and the mere attention being left comparatively unemployed, what advantages are obtained by either party are obtained by superior acumen. To be less abstract – Let us suppose a game of draughts where the pieces are reduced to four kings, and where, of course, no oversight is to be expected. It is obvious that here the victory can be decided (the players being at all equal) only by some recherché movement, the result of some exertion of the intellect. Deprived of ordinary resources, the analyst throws himself into the spirit of his opponent, identifies himself therewith, and not unfrequently sees thus, at a glance, the sole methods (sometimes indeed absurdly simple ones) by which he may seduce into error or hurry into miscalculation.

Whist had long been noted for its influence upon what is termed the calculating power; and men of the highest order of intellect have been known to take an apparently unaccountable delight in it, while eschewing chess as frivolous. Beyond doubt there is nothing of a similar nature so greatly tasking the faculty of analysis. The best chess-player in Christendom may be little more than the best player of chess; but proficiency in whist implies capacity for success in all these more important undertakings where mind struggles with mind. When I say proficiency, I mean that perfection in the game which includes a comprehension of all the sources whence legitimate advantage may be derived. These are not only manifold but multiform, and lie frequently among recesses of thought altogether inaccessible to the ordinary understanding. To observe attentively is to remember distinctly; and, so far, the concentrative chess-player will do very well at whist; while the rules of Hoyle (themselves based upon the mere mechanism of the game) are sufficiently and generally comprehensible. Thus to have a retentive memory, and to proceed by ‘the book,’ are points commonly regarded as the sum total of good playing. But it is in matters beyond the limits of mere rule that the skill of the analyst is evinced. He makes, in silence, a host of observations and inferences. So, perhaps, do his companions; and the difference in the extent of the information obtained, lies not so much in the validity of the inference as in the quality of the observation. The necessary knowledge is that of what to observe. Our player confines himself not at all; nor, because the game is the object, does he reject deductions from things external to the game. He examines the countenance of his partner, comparing it carefully with that of each of his opponents. He considers the mode of assorting the cards in each hand; often counting trump by trump, and honour by honour, through the glances bestowed by their holders upon each. He notes every variation of face as the play progresses, gathering a fund of thought from the differences in the expression of certainty, of surprise, of triumph, or chagrin. From the manner of gathering up a trick he judges whether the person taking it can make another in the suit. He recognises what is played through feint, by the air with which it is thrown upon the table. A casual or inadvertent word; the accidental dropping or turning of a card, with the accompanying anxiety or carelessness in regard to its concealment; the counting of the tricks, with the order of their arrangement: embarrassment, hesitation, eagerness or trepidation – all afford, to his apparently intuitive perception, indications of the true state of affairs. The first two or three rounds having been played, he is in full possession of the contents of each hand, and thenceforward puts down his cards with as absolute a precision of purpose as if the rest of the party had turned outward the faces of their own.

The analytical power should not be confounded with simple ingenuity; for while the analyst is necessarily ingenious, the ingenious man is often remarkably incapable of analysis. The consecutive or combining power, by which ingenuity is usually manifested, and to which the phrenologists (I believe erroneously) have assigned a separate organ, supposing it a primitive faculty, has been so frequently seen in those whose intellect bordered otherwise upon idiocy, as to have attracted general observation among writers on morals. Between ingenuity and the analytic ability there exists a difference far greater, indeed, than that between the fancy and the imagination, but of a character very strictly analogous. It will be found, in fact, that the ingenious are always fanciful, and the truly imaginative never otherwise than analytic.

The narrative which follows will appear to the reader somewhat in the light of a commentary upon the propositions just advanced.

Residing in Paris during the spring and part of the summer of 18—, I there became acquainted with a Monsieur C. Auguste Dupin. This young gentleman was of an excellent – indeed of an illustrious family, but, by a variety of untoward events, had been reduced to such poverty that the energy of his character succumbed beneath it, and he ceased to bestir himself in the world, or to care for the retrieval of his fortunes. By courtesy of his creditors, there still remained in his possession a small remnant of his patrimony; and, upon the income arising from this, he managed, by means of a rigorous economy, to procure the necessaries of life, without troubling himself about its superfluities. Books, indeed, were his sole luxuries, and in Paris these are easily obtained.

Our first meeting was at an obscure library in the Rue Montmartre, where the accident of our both being in search of the same very rare and very remarkable volume, brought us into closer communion. We saw each other again and again. I was deeply interested in the little family history which he detailed to me with all that candour which a Frenchman indulges whenever mere self is the theme. I was astonished, too, at the vast extent of his reading; and, above all, I felt my soul enkindled within me by the wild fervour, and the vivid freshness of his imagination. Seeking in Paris the objects I then sought, I felt that the society of such a man would be to me a treasure beyond price; and this feeling I frankly confided to him. It was at length arranged that we should live together during my stay in the city; and as my worldly circumstances were somewhat less embarrassed than his own, I was permitted to be at the expense of renting, and furnishing in a style which suited the rather fantastic gloom of our common temper, a time-eaten and grotesque mansion, long deserted through superstitions into which we did not inquire, and tottering to its fall in a retired and desolate portion of the Faubourg St Germain.

Had the routine of our life at this place been known to the world, we should have been regarded as madmen – although, perhaps, as madmen of a harmless nature. Our seclusion was perfect. We admitted no visitors. Indeed the locality of our retirement had been carefully kept a secret from my own former associates; and it had been many years since Dupin had ceased to know or be known in Paris. We existed within ourselves alone.

It was a freak of fancy in my friend (for what else shall I call it?) to be enamoured of the Night for her own sake; and into this bizarrerie, as into all his others, I quietly fell; giving myself up to his wild whims with a perfect abandon. The sable divinity would not herself dwell with us always; but we could counterfeit her presence. At the first dawn of the morning we closed all the massy shutters of our old building; lighted a couple of tapers which, strongly perfumed, threw out only the ghastliest and feeblest of rays. By the aid of these we then busied our souls in dreams – reading, writing, or conversing, until warned by the clock of the advent of the true Darkness. Then we sallied forth into the streets, arm in arm, continuing the topics of the day, or roaming far and wide until a late hour, seeking, amid the wild lights and shadows of the populous city, that infinity of mental excitement which quiet observation can afford.

At such times I could not help remarking and admiring (although from his rich ideality I had been prepared to expect it) a peculiar analytic ability in Dupin. He seemed, too, to take an eager delight in its exercise – if not exactly in its display – and did not hesitate to confess the pleasure thus derived. He boasted to me, with a low chuckling laugh, that most men, in respect to himself, wore windows in their bosoms, and was wont to follow up such assertions by direct and very startling proofs of his intimate knowledge of my own. His manner at these moments was frigid and abstract; his eyes were vacant in expression; while his voice, usually a rich tenor, rose into a treble which would have sounded petulantly but for the deliberateness and entire distinctness of the enunciation. Observing him in these moods, I often dwelt meditatively upon the old philosophy of the Bi-Part Soul, and amused myself with the fancy of a double Dupin – the creative and the resolvent.

Let it not be supposed, from what I have just said, that I am detailing any mystery, or penning any romance. What I have described in the Frenchman, was merely the result of an excited, or perhaps of a diseased intelligence. But of the character of his remarks at the periods in question an example will best convey the idea.

We were strolling one night down a long dirty street, in the vicinity of the Palais Royal. Being both, apparently, occupied with thought, neither of us had spoken a syllable for fifteen minutes at least. All at once Dupin broke forth with these words:

‘He is a very little fellow, that’s true, and would do better for the Théâtre des Variétés.’

‘There can be no doubt of that,’ I replied unwittingly, and not at first observing (so much had I been absorbed in reflection) the extraordinary manner in which the speaker had chimed in with my meditations. In an instant afterwards I recollected myself, and my astonishment was profound.

‘Dupin,’ said I, gravely, ‘this is beyond my comprehension. I do not hesitate to say that I am amazed, and can scarcely credit my senses. How was it possible you should know I was thinking of—?’ Here I paused, to ascertain beyond a doubt whether he really knew of whom I thought.

—‘of Chantilly,’ said he, ‘why do you pause? You were remarking to yourself that his diminutive figure unfitted him for tragedy.’

This was precisely what had formed the subject of my reflections. Chantilly was a quondam cobbler of the Rue St Denis, who, becoming stage-mad, had attempted the rôle of Xerxes, in Crébillon’s tragedy so called, and been notoriously Pasquinaded for his pains.

‘Tell me, for Heaven’s sake,’ I exclaimed, ‘the method – if method there is – by which you have been enabled to fathom my soul in this matter.’ In fact I was even more startled than I would have been willing to express.

‘It was the fruiterer,’ replied my friend, ‘who brought you to the conclusion that the mender of soles was not

Reviews for The Murders in the Rue Morgue

[philsyphe · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Read this as part of my BA in English.With Poe's reputation, I felt disappointed with this, though parts did impress me. The concept is clever, but too much rambling prose prevented me from really liking this.

[cbl_tn · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This compilation includes Poe's three Auguste Dupin stories rounded off with a non-Dupin story involving a mysterious murder. Even though I'm pretty sure I hadn't previously read any of the stories, I was familiar with the plots of the Dupin stories from adaptations, cultural references, etc.Once you know the solution of “The Murders in the Rue Morgue”, it's hard to forget it as you read/listen. Dupin's endless description of his reasoning process is then more tedious than suspenseful. “The Mystery of Marie Roget” is even worse. After listening to an hour's worth of Dupin's inferences about the case, I thought I had missed his solution. I found a copy online to check what I'd missed and discovered I hadn't missed anything. The story (based on a real-life unsolved murder) stops abruptly without reaching a satisfactory conclusion.“The Purloined Letter” is the most successful of the three Dupin stories. It's certainly the shortest, and thus it doesn't suffer as much from Dupin's long-winded monologues. The plot is both simple and clever. I also enjoyed “Thou Art the Man”, a non-Dupin story about the mysterious disappearance and death of a wealthy man that ends with an interesting twist.I couldn't help comparing Dupin with Sherlock Holmes since their characters are so similar. I think the Holmes stories work better because of Dr. Watson. Neither Dupin nor Holmes are particularly personable, but Watson provides readers with a sympathetic character.

[lgandt · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This was sooooo not like any film I have ever seen of the same title. I loved this and I hated every film I ever saw of it. As I have said on more than one occasion, how did they get those movies out of this story?

[greeniezona · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Said to be the birth of the detective genre, and consequently, an inspiration for many fictional detectives, most notably, of course, being Sherlock Holmes, it was impossible to pass this slim volume up when I spied it in the used books section. I had never heard of it before, despite having read quite a few Poe stories when I was young.

The first story, "The Murders in the Rue Morgue," could have almost been a Holmes story. The entirely self-confident Dupin sets a trap for one of the persons of interest, smugly reviewing his reasoning to his associate as he waits for the knock on the door (to what you could almost imagine being 221B Baker Street, were it in London, not Paris.) There was a bit where I was concerned that Poe was painting orangutans as casually violent, but the story pulled back from that.

The second story, "The Mystery of Marie Roget," however, was kind of unsufferable. It just ground on and on, and I kept thinking, "Even Holmes would be tired of listening to himself by now!" Footnotes allude to the story being inspired by a real-life mystery, and that it appears Poe basically solved it ahead of everyone, despite not ever visiting the scene of the crime? I don't know, it was confusing. So maybe he was showing off, or trying to convince real-life authorities, I don't know. What I do know is that it got a bit tedious and I had to slog through it.

The third story, "Purloined Letter" was delightful again. It seemed to mirror quite closely the one episode of Downton Abbey I have ever seen in my life. I wonder if it was inspired directly?

So, sort of hit and miss. But definitely interesting!

[orange_suspense · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The Murders in the Rue MorgueCamille L’Espanaye’s face is mutilated and her body is shoved and squeezed up into the chimney and her mother lies beaten black and blue, headless and with most of her bones crushed on the floor. The doors and windows are locked from the inside and there is no clue who has done these brutal murders.It’s for Poe’s C. Auguste Dupin to analyse all the facts given by the Gazette des Tribunaux (including the statements from the witnesses) and a short visist to the murder scene itself to deduct what must have happened and to solve this highly unusual crime.I was surprised by the first of the three short stories including Dupin for it really is one of the first examples of the detective fiction genre. Even though some deductions seem a bit far fetched, the skills of Poe constructing the plot and Dupin deducting from the facts are great and highly entertaining. With the Dupin tales read you will discover more than one similarity between the great detectives that followed the lead of Poe’s eccentric character and its methods. I’m very curious if the other two novels are equally good.The Mystery of Marie RogêtThe second tale of Poe’s Dupin, The Mystery of Marie Rogêt, has its roots in the the real murder of Mary Rogers in New York back in the time. As far as I know the murder of Mary Rogers is still unsolved and so Poe’s narrative is first of all fiction, but also investigates the real crime (translocated to Paris). And coming to the conclusions Dupin draws, it seems highly possible that Poe/Dupin wasn’t so wrong at all.In comparison to the first novel, the character of Dupin is stripped down to the bare essentials of analysing and deducting. It seems that Dupin is some sort of ghost that gives lenghthy interpretations of newspaper articles and minute analysis of the possible context of the crime. I also had the feeling that some passages could have been a bit shorter for they are really stretched, maybe uneccessaryso (e.g. the analysis of bodies thrown into water). On the other hand those passages give the real Dupin and let you participate in his train of thought.I don’t know if I liked The Muders in the Rue Morgue a bit better concerning the overall plot, but The Mystery of Marie Rogêt is clearly more analytical and therefore an example of pure detective work (even though more in the style of Poirot than Holmes) which will finally become on of the cornerstones of the detective fiction genre.The Purloined Letter“The Purloined Letter Approach” a.k.a. “Hiding in plain view” is a method of hiding things named after the thrid and final Dupin tale. The lifeless charcter of Dupin from The Myster of Marie Rogêt was drawn using a bit more color this time. Dupin has to find out where an important document is concealed that is used for blackmailing. The police, having searched everything everywhere, is clueless of its whereabouts and again Dupin has to use his deducing mind to find the answer.Even if the atmosphere of the story is really good with Dupin and the narrator sitting in Dupin’s rooms endlessly smoking their pipes and the good idea of hiding the document in plain sight (which was new then), I think The Purloined Letter is more an example to show the differences between police work and deduction than a entertaining story. I don’t think it is bad, not at all, but Poe’s competitor is he himself and The Mysster of Marie Rogêt and The Murders in the Rue Morgue were more entertaining as The Purloined Letter. But as a piece of high importance for the developing of the detective fiction genre nobody can seriously outstrip the relevance of Dupin’s third case.This collection of the three Dupin tales comes with a short introduction and text excerpts from the predecessors of Dupin himself (being Voltair’s Zadig, Vicocq’s Vicocq and Leggett’s Buckhorn). I think this little book is really worth owning for it gives three outstandingly interesting Poe texts and with the excerpts a nice guide for further reading.

[doskoipanda · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Poe's work itself is 5 stars, no question. But this edition would benefit from some footnotes/annotations for some of the more obscure things and the French phrases, rather than the additional material and the "reader's circle" questions/discussions, particularly for someone not familiar with the early 1800s.

[sayakaa_4 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

it was sad story. i did not like the ending.

[marsap_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A collection of Poe’s detective stories featuring the fictional C. Auguste Dupin. These stories are considered to be important early forerunners of the modern detective story. The most famous is the Murder on the Rue Morgue—basically a locked roomed murder mystery. Dupin can extrapolate specific conclusions about people based on the smallest piece of evidence, like a ribbon. Though there are similarities between Sherlock Holmes and Dupin--Dupin isn't a know-it-all. He never claims to have facts--he makes it very clear he's guessing, and his guesses just happen to be correct most of the time. The other two stories of this series, Mystery of Marie Rogêt and The Purloined Letter, both feature Dupin and additional mysteries—though only the Purloined Letter matches the enjoyment of the Rue Morgue. Not my favorite Poe stories—but still enjoyable. 3 ½ out of 5 stars.

[norabelle414 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Two women are found murdered in a locked apartment in Paris, and none of the witnesses can agree on what they heard. A man named Auguste Dupin examines each clue methodically, and comes up with a most unusual solution to the mystery.This is often credited with being the first detective story. The first section of the book is devoted to Dupin explaining how he uses deductive reasoning (at the time called ratiocination) to figure things out, and it's very tedious. The recounting of the crime scene and accompanying investigation are somewhat interesting. However, I think the solution is a bit too convenient and I don't think there's any way Dupin could actually have deduced it. Plus, if the sailor saw his orangutan murder two people, and then he ran away from the crime scene, why would he answer an advertisement asking if anyone had lost an orangutan?? I do find it interesting that the sailor is not held responsible for the orangutan's actions, though. That certainly would not be the case today. This is an important story to understand the history of the detective genre, but it's not actually that enjoyable to read.I listened to the audiobook read by David Case. I'm not sure if it was the audio quality or the narrator's voice, but I didn't care for it. I was considering listening to more of the stories in this audio collection but I think I'll pass.

[john257hopper · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The detective at the centre of this mystery, Auguste Dupin, was one of the inspirations for Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes. Dupin here uses the techniques of eliminating the impossible and arriving at a conclusion that, however improbable, must be the truth. But it felt more long winded here, and we didn't get to know Dupin at all. Indeed much of this felt more like an analytical essay than a story. 3.5/5

[kaethe_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I don't recall exactly when I first read this (sometime in late elementary/middle school), but it certainly made an impact. I still consider Poe one of my favorite mystery writers.

[thornton37814 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This work by Poe is often described as the first mystery. With such a distinction, it is an important work to revisit from time to time, even if its plot is not as fully developed as later efforts, because of its influence on masters of the mystery genre such as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I remember reading this one back in high school and also in university. At the time, I was disappointed in it. As I read it this time, knowing the outcome, I think I appreciated it more because I found myself seeking the earlier hints which would lead to the crime's resolution. While I believe many questions remain unanswered regarding the sailor's role, I know I'm bringing my 21st century mindset to that question by envisioning lawsuits and other charges relating to harboring an orangutan in one's apartment. The use of deductive reasoning is the important contribution of this classic work which is probably appreciated most when it is re-read and studied for that reason.

[deltaqueen50 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Murders in the Rue Morgue by Edgar Allan Poe is a novella that was originally published in 1841. Today this story is mostly admired for its’ historic value as it is considered the first modern detective story. The main character, C. Auguste Dupin solves the brutal murder of two women in Paris. Poe has his detective display many of the traits that become literary conventions in many of the detectives that were to follow, including Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot. The idea that the detective has great analytical talents, is exceptionally brilliant and has a personal friend do the narration are all plot points that were introduced in this story. Although the language is rather dated, this is a fascinating story and well worth a quick read.

[maydacat_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This stort story by Poe is considered to be the first detective story and has surely influenced other authors of such tales. It was the seemingly impossible scenario: two murdered women, one in a back yard and the other in a room locked from the inside. The murders are especially gory and violent. Monsieur C. Auguste Dupin is intrigued by the murders, and though the general concensus is that the situation is impossible, he believes that once the impossible is eliminated, whatever is left, though improbable, is the answer. Following Dupin’s thought process as he sifts through the information is an interesting study in the workings of a detective’s mind.

[isabelx_21 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A Penguin 60s mini-book.I've read and enjoyed this story of "a gruesome crime and the birth of a super-sleuth" before.

[katieloucks · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I just skimmed this - how could he have known all of it?

[wilsonknut · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is considered, if not the first, one of the first detective stories that defined the genre. Dupin is supposedly the model for Sherlock Holmes. Poe's description of the murder scene is surprisingly horrific for the time period. If you don't know how this who-done-it ends, it may surprise you. Read this and then watch an episode of CSI. You will see the formula still in place over a hundred years later.

[jonfaith · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

'That is another of your odd notions,' said the Prefect, who had a fashion of calling everything 'odd' that was beyond his comprehension, and thus lived amid an absolute legion of 'oddities.'

As noted this was life preserver book, bought for loose change and kept in my truck for just such an occasion. Poe's Dupin stories are cerebral but not charming. There is little here of atmosphere nor much banter. Upon reflection, there isn't much humanity at all on display. These are exercises, examples of a methodology. It is easy to see how compelling Dupin's improbable genius was to readers. The allure continues to our own jaded days. Note to self: all days have been jaded.