Edgar Allan


The Fall of the House of Usher

Der Untergang des Hauses Usher

Übersetzt von Gisela Etzel
Synchronisation und Ergänzungen © Doppeltext 2022




Son cœur est un luth sus­pendu;
Sitôt qu’on le touche il résonne.
De Béranger.
Dur­ing the whole of a dull, dark, and sound­less day in the au­tumn of the year,
when the clouds hung op­press­ively low in the heav­ens, I had been passing alone, on horse­back, through a sin­gu­larly dreary tract of coun­try,
and at length found my­self, as the shades of the even­ing drew on, with­in view of the mel­an­choly House of Ush­er.
I know not how it was — but, with the first glimpse of the build­ing, a sense of in­suf­fer­able gloom per­vaded my spir­it.
I say in­suf­fer­able; for the feel­ing was un­re­lieved by any of that half-pleas­ur­able, be­cause po­et­ic, sen­ti­ment,
with which the mind usu­ally re­ceives even the stern­est nat­ur­al im­ages of the des­ol­ate or ter­rible.
I looked upon the scene be­fore me — upon the mere house, and the simple land­scape fea­tures of the do­main — upon the bleak walls — upon the va­cant eye-like win­dows
— upon a few rank sedges — and upon a few white trunks of de­cayed trees — with an ut­ter de­pres­sion of soul
which I can com­pare to no earthly sen­sa­tion more prop­erly than to the after-dream of the rev­el­ler upon opi­um
— the bit­ter lapse into every-day life — the hideous drop­ping off of the veil.
There was an ici­ness, a sink­ing, a sick­en­ing of the heart — an un­re­deemed drear­i­ness of thought
which no goad­ing of the ima­gin­a­tion could tor­ture into aught of the sub­lime.
What was it — I paused to think — what was it that so un­nerved me in the con­tem­pla­tion of the House of Ush­er?
It was a mys­tery all in­sol­uble; nor could I grapple with the shad­owy fan­cies that crowded upon me as I pondered.
I was forced to fall back upon the un­sat­is­fact­ory con­clu­sion, that while, bey­ond doubt, there are com­bin­a­tions of very simple nat­ur­al ob­jects
which have the power of thus af­fect­ing us, still the ana­lys­is of this power lies among con­sid­er­a­tions bey­ond our depth.
It was pos­sible, I re­flec­ted, that a mere dif­fer­ent ar­range­ment of the par­tic­u­lars of the scene, of the de­tails of the pic­ture,
would be suf­fi­cient to modi­fy, or per­haps to an­ni­hil­ate its ca­pa­city for sor­row­ful im­pres­sion;
and, act­ing upon this idea, I reined my horse to the pre­cip­it­ous brink of a black and lur­id tarn
that lay in un­ruffled lustre by the dwell­ing, and gazed down
— but with a shud­der even more thrill­ing than be­fore — upon the re­mod­elled and in­ver­ted im­ages of the gray sedge,
and the ghastly tree-stems, and the va­cant and eye-like win­dows.

Edgar Allan Poe
The Fall of the House of Usher / Der Untergang des Hauses Usher
Zweisprachige Ausgabe
Übersetzt von Gisela Etzel

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