“The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe, but make it gender-inclusive.

Surprise! Because our first episode is so different from what we’ll be sharing on a weekly basis, we’re dropping episode 2 today for an early taste of Liminal Flares proper.

The very first time I amended a piece of literature to make its language gender-inclusive, I used Poe’s legendary poem about a grieving lover whose suffering is steadily exacerbated by a vexatiously laconic corvid visitor. So what better place to kick things off than where I began doing this purely for myself?

Also in this episode: after reading “The Raven” I take a few minutes to draw back the curtain and share precisely how I edited the poem to make the language gender neutral. 

This is not something I plan to do for every episode. But I thought some listeners might appreciate an illustration of the specific sorts of grammatical changes that I make in the short stories and poetry read on this podcast.

Thank you for listening! If you enjoy what we’re doing, please support the show by rating and reviewing it on your preferred podcast platform, and share Liminal Flares with your friends.

New episodes every Thursday.

Writing/Editing & Narration by Maika

Music by The Parlour Trick

Audio Engineering by Meredith Yayanos

Cover art by Daniel Kern

More info at liminalflares.com

Follow us on social media @liminalflares

Gather round and welcome.

This is Liminal Flares,

bedtime stories from beyond and in-between,

readings of eldritch literature drawn from the public domain

and amended to be genderinclusive.

My name is Maika,

and I am your queer, trans, nonbinary narrator.

Today we are reading...

"The Raven"

written by Edgar Allen Poe,

published in 1845.

Once upon a midnight dreary,

while I pondered,

weak and weary,

Over many acquaint and curious volume

of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping,

suddenly there came a tapping,

As of someone gently rapping,

rapping at my chamber door.

"'Tis some visitor," I muttered,

"tapping at my chamber door,"

"only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember,

it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember

wrought its ghost upon the floor,

Eagerly I wished the morrow,

vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow,

Sorrow for the lost Lenore

For the rare and radiant maiden

whom the angel's name Lenore

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling

of each purple curtain thrilled me,

filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before.

So that now, to still the beating of my heart,

I stood repeating

"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,"

"Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door."

"This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger,

hesitating than no longer,

"Mx," said I, "Or Mre, truly your forgiveness I implore;"

"but the fact is I was napping,"

"and so gently you came wrapping,"

"And so faintly you came tapping,"

"tapping at my chamber door,"

"that I scarce was sure I heard you."

here I opened wide the door;

Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering,

long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting,

Dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken,

and the stillness gave no token,

and the only word there spoken

was the whispered word, "Lenore?"

This I whispered,

and an echo murmured back the word,

"Lenore!"

Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning,

all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping

somewhat louder than before

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice,

"Let me see, then, what thereat is,"

"and this mystery explore,"

"Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore,"

"'Tis the wind and nothing more.!"

Open here I flung the shutter,

when, with many aflurt and flutter,

in there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore

Not the least obeisance made they,

not a minute stopped or stayed they,

But with mien of nobility,

perched above my chamber door

perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then

this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum

of the countenance they wore,

"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven,"

"thou," I said, "art sure no craven,"

"Ghastly grim and ancient Raven"

"wandering from the nightly shore"

"Tell me what thy noble name is"

'on the Night's Plutonian shore!"

Quoth the Raven,

"Nevermore."

Much I marveled this ungainly foul

to hear discourse so plainly,

Though their answer little meaning

little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing

that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird

above their chamber door -

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust

above their chamber door,

With such name as "Nevermore."

But the Raven,

sitting lonely on the placid bust,

spoke only that one word,

as if their soul in that one word they did outpour.

Nothing farther than they uttered

not a feather than they fluttered

Till I scarcely more than muttered,

"Other friends have flown before"

"on the morrow they will leave me"

"as my hopes have flown before"

Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

"Doubtless," said I, "what they utter"

"is their only stock and store"

"caught from some unhappy captor"

"whom unmerciful disaster"

"followed fast and followed faster"

"till their songs one burden bore"

"Till the dirges of their hope"

"that melancholy burden bore"

"Of 'Never - Nevermore.'"

But the Raven,

still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat

in front of bird and bust and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking,

I betook myself to linking fancy unto fancy,

thinking what this ominous bird of yore -

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gwaunt,

and ominous bird of yore

meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing,

but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now

burned into my bosom's core;

This and more I sat divining,

with my head at ease reclining

on the cushion's velvet lining

that the lamp-light gloated o'er.

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser,

perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by seraphim whose footfalls

tinkled on the tufted floor.

"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee"

"by these angels they hath sent thee"

"Respite - respite and nepenthe"

from thy memories of Lenore;"

"Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe"

"and forget this lost Lenore!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I,

"thing of evil!"

"prophet still if, bird or devil"

"Whether Tempter sent,"

"or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore"

"Desolate yet all undaunted,"

"on this desert land enchanted,"

"on this home by horror haunted,"

"tell me truly, I implore,"

"Is there - is there balm in Gilead?"

"Tell me - tell me, I implore!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!"

"Prophet still, if bird or devil!"

By that heaven that bends above us,"

"By that God we both adore"

"tell this soul with sorrow laden"

"if, within the distant Aidenn,"

"it shall clasp a sainted maiden"

"whom the angel's name Lenore"

"Clasp a rare and radiant maiden"

"whom the angel name Lenore."

Quoth the Raven

"Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting."

"Bird or fiend,"

I shrieked, upstarting,

"Get thee back into the tempest"

"and the night's Plutonian shore!"

"Leave no black plume as a token"

"of that lie thy soul hath spoken!"

"Leave my loneliness unbroken!"

"Quit the bust above my door!"

"Take thy beak from out my heart,"

"and take thy form from off my door!"

Quoth the Raven,

"Nevermore."

And the Raven,

never flitting, still is sitting,

still is sitting

on the pallid bust of Pallas

just above my chamber door;

And their eyes have all the seeming

of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamplight o'er them streaming

throws their shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow

that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted

Nevermore!

Poe's "The Raven" was the first piece that I amended just for myself,

which made it feel like the perfect place to begin together.

And because this is my first reading with you,

I thought I'd briefly draw aside the curtain

and share precisely how I altered this poem to make it gender-inclusive.

I do not intend to do this for every episode.

As I mentioned in my previous, introductory episode,

if I've done my work well,

then my edits for Inclusivity should blend in pretty seamlessly.

I like to think that not noticing what I've changed

indicates that my amendments are doing their intended job,

swapping heteronormative, unnecessarily gendered language

with inclusive language that doesn't exclude anyone based on their gender.

Still, I thought some listeners might appreciate an illustration

of precisely how I've changed the pieces that I'll be reading for this podcast.

And because this is such a short piece, it won't take me long to explain.

There also wasn't a whole lot to change within "The Raven."

But those edits still made all the difference for me

when I first read this version of the poem for myself.

So, first of all,

throughout the poem, Poe refers to The Raven as either "it"

or using the pronouns he and him.

Without trying to open debate about gender expression in animals,

this is a perfect example of either an assumption about a character's gender

or the very outdated use of he / him / his as default catch-all pronouns.

So I changed the Raven's pronouns to the inclusive catch-all they / them /theirs.

One quick sidenote:

it occurred to me that some people might argue that an author,

being the creator of their work,

inherently knows the gender of everyone they write about.

While I am an inveterate overthinker in general,

this is something I've put a lot of thought into as I began working on this show.

For those people, I would counter that

authors are just as prone to making the same assumptions

about the gender of some of their characters,

based on their own perceptions,

as everyone else makes about people in real life.

I also reserve the right to employ a little artistic license

and change some characters to be nonbinary.

Because this podcast isn't only about

being able to infer that nonbinary people also exist in these stories.

It is also about letting them shine as characters in their own right, too.

Again, this is why I'm using literature that's in the public domain.

Anyway,

In the 4th stanza, our grieving narrator calls out,

"Sir," said I, "or Madam,"

while addressing whoever might be on the other side of their infamous chamber door.

This is exactly the sort of collective generalization that assumes

that everyone is either a woman or a man.

There are quite a few different gender neutral titles in use these days,

not to mention many people who do not use any title at all.

To best keep with the sounds and cadence of the poem,

I replaced Sir and Madam with the gender neutral honorifics Mx and Mre.

In the 7th stanza,

I changed the phrase "lord and lady" to "nobility,"

and "Lordly" to "noble" in the 8th stanza.

In the 9th stanza, our narrator uses the pronoun "his" when generalizing about

no one else having been blessed by seeing a raven in these strange circumstances.

So "his" became "their."

Finally, I changed the word "master" to "captor" in the 11th stanza.

That was my trickiest edit.

In fact, in preparing pieces for this podcast,

I quickly discovered that amending poetry

is a much more challenging task than amending prose.

Here, my replacement needed to retain the same meaning as "master"

while still rhyming with the word "disaster."

"Captor" doesn't achieve quite the perfect rhyming assonance

that we get with Poe's "master" and "disaster,"

but I think it works sufficiently well.

And that's it.

As I said, it's not much,

but it means that when I read this poem,

no one was excluded based on their gender.

Because the thing is,

using the pronouns they / them / theirs

doesn't automatically indicate that someone is not a woman or a man.

It means that those are not the only two possibilities,

and that we aren't making any assumptions about someone

who has not provided us with their pronouns,

nor can we ask them for them.

The most respectful default, catch-all pronoun is one that doesn't exclude anyone.

Everyone wins when it comes to gender-inclusive language.

Thank you for listening to Liminal Flares.

Our music is by The Parlor Trick.

Audio Engineering by Meredith Yayanos.

I hope you've enjoyed our time together in this twilit space.

If you did and would like to help support our show,

subscribe and leave us a rating and a review on your favorite podcast platform.

And please share us with others who might enjoy

our haunted and haunting, gender-inclusive story time.

If you have a favorite author or a specific piece of writing,

a short story, poem, or passage from a book,

that's in the public domain in the US,

I welcome your requests for future episodes.

You'll find links to archives of public domain literature

in the Resources section of our website, liminalflares.com,

where you'll also find more information about us,

this show, and individual episodes as they air.

Submit your requests via the website or via social media @liminalflares,

where you can follow us to learn about future episodes

and keep up with what's happening behind the scenes.

Next week, a slightly longer episode

as we begin reading a disquieting short story

by Robert W. Chambers titled "The Yellow Sign."