Some Words with A Mummy

By Poe

"Some Words with a Mummy" is a short story by Edgar Allan Poe that satirizes 19th-century science and attitudes, featuring gentlemen who awaken an ancient Egyptian mummy, challenging their views on life, technology, and health.

• Language: English
• Publisher: SAMPI Books
• Release date: Feb 6, 2024
• ISBN: 9786561330992

Poe

Edgar Allan Poe (1809–49) reigned unrivaled in his mastery of mystery during his lifetime and is now widely held to be a central figure of Romanticism and gothic horror in American literature. Born in Boston, he was orphaned at age three, was expelled from West Point for gambling, and later became a well-regarded literary critic and editor. The Raven, published in 1845, made Poe famous. He died in 1849 under what remain mysterious circumstances and is buried in Baltimore, Maryland.

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Some Words with A Mummy

Edgar Allan Poe

SYNOPSIS

Some Words with a Mummy is a short story by Edgar Allan Poe that satirizes 19th-century science and attitudes, featuring gentlemen who awaken an ancient Egyptian mummy, challenging their views on life, technology, and health.

Keywords

Satire, Resurrection, humor

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.

Some Words with A Mummy

The symposium of the preceding evening had been a little too much for my nerves. I had a wretched headache and was desperately drowsy. Instead of going out therefore to spend the evening as I had proposed, it occurred to me that I could not do a wiser thing than just eat a mouthful of supper and go immediately to bed.

A light supper of course. I am exceedingly fond of Welsh rabbit. More than a pound at once, however, may not at all times be advisable. Still, there can be no material objection to two. And really between two and three, there is merely a single unit of difference. I ventured, perhaps, upon four. My wife will have it five; —but, clearly, she has confounded two very distinct affairs. The abstract number, five, I am willing to admit; but, concretely, it has reference to bottles of Brown Stout, without which, in the way of condiment, Welsh rabbit is to be eschewed.

Having thus concluded a frugal