And because our reason violently deters us from the brink, therefore, do we the most impetuously approach it. And this fall - this rushing annihilation - for the very reason that it involves that one most ghastly and loathsome of all the most ghastly and loathsome images of death and suffering which have ever presented themselves to our imagination - for this very cause do we now the most vividly desire it. It is merely the idea of what would be our sensations during the sweeping precipitancy of a fall from such a height. But out of this our cloud upon the precipice’s edge, there grows into palpability, a shape, far more terrible than any genius, or any demon of a tale, and yet it is but a thought, although a fearful one, and one which chills the very marrow of our bones with the fierceness of the delight of its horror. By gradations, still more imperceptible, this cloud assumes shape, as did the vapor from the bottle out of which arose the genius in the Arabian Nights. By slow degrees our sickness and dizziness, and horror become merged in a cloud of unnameable feeling. Our first impulse is to shrink from the danger. We peer into the abyss - we grow sick and dizzy. But the protagonist claims that the longer you dwell upon these thoughts of the perverse, the stronger they become and the higher the likelihood that you will act upon them. We all have those random thoughts come into our heads, envisioning some heinous act which we would never actually act out. The protagonist of the story explains why he committed a murder, claiming to be “one of the many uncounted victims of the Imp of the Perverse.” He describes the perverse as the desire within all humans to do what they know is wrong. This is one that I had never read before, but on my first pass, I noticed some really interesting symbolism. I always like to read some Poe around Halloween.
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