The Murders in the Rue Morgue
1) A passage in which I found the identification of evidence /
conclusions drawn irrefutably logical and genuinely impressive.
“'Keeping now steadily in mind the points to which I have drawn your attention–that peculiar voice, that unusual agility, and that startling absence of motive in a murder so singularly atrocious as this–let us glance at the butchery itself. Here is a woman strangled to death by manual strength, and thrust up a chimney head downward. Ordinary assassins employ no such mode of murder as this. Least of all, do they thus dispose of the murdered. In this manner of thrusting the corpse up the chimney, you will admit that there was something excessively outré–something altogether irreconcilable with our common notions of human action, even when we suppose the actors the most depraved of men. Think, too, how great must have been that strength which could have thrust the body up such an aperture so forcibly that the united vigor of several persons was found barely sufficient to drag it down!"(219)
I found Dupin's logic here extremely sound, though not terribly impressive. He is completely correct in that the methods of murder and the attempted concealment are completely unlike those of an assassin or some other type of trained, hired killer. An assassin would almost never bother with strangulation as a method of killing because it is so unnecessarily brutal (and relatively slow). Also, almost no assassin would leave their instrument of murder (the razor) at the scene of the crime, nor would they even attempt to hide a corpse inside a chimney (which, as Dupin mentioned, would be almost impossible). However, I think that while his reasoning is impressive, most people would have also immediately rejected the possibility of an assassin, making this conclusion only somewhat impressive.
2) A passage in which I found an identification / conclusion / string of reasoning baldly untenable.
"Whist has long been known 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 a 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 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..." (197)
While having nothing to do with the actual mystery, I found the narrator's reasoning about the inferiority of chess to be poorly done. While chess is undoubtedly a more complex game than checkers or some card games, that does not make a chess player any less "proficient" than that of another player. The narrator claims that being able to understand everything about the game, including other players, is good analysis, but he or she doe not seem to realize that everything in the paragraph can be applied to chess as well. There is nothing stopping a good chess player from analyzing their opponents and learning their habits, especially over multiple games. Most of the reasoning is simply describing general game theory and the ability to understand and predict the moves of one's opponents, which can be applied to any game, including chess.
3) A passage in which I found genuinely confounding either because of language or plot: some place you had to stop and go back or you have 'uh, wut...' written in your book, etc.
“Let him talk,” said Dupin, who had not thought it necessary to reply. “Let him discourse; it will ease his conscience. I am satisfied with having defeated him in his own castle. Nevertheless, that he failed in the solution of this mystery, is by no means that matter for wonder which he supposes it; for, in truth, our friend the Prefect is somewhat too cunning to be profound. In his wisdom is no stamen. It is all head and no body, like the pictures of the Goddess Laverna–or, at best, all head and shoulders, like a codfish. But he is a good creature after all. I like him especially for one master stroke of cant, by which he has attained his reputation for ingenuity. I mean the way he has ‘de nier ce qui est, et d’expliquer ce qui n’est pas.'” (228)
The conclusion of this short story was somewhat confusing to read. I had to reread it a few times before I could somewhat understand exactly what Dupin was trying to convey. The footnotes were helpful, but the overall phrasing of the paragraph made it hard to digest.
“'Keeping now steadily in mind the points to which I have drawn your attention–that peculiar voice, that unusual agility, and that startling absence of motive in a murder so singularly atrocious as this–let us glance at the butchery itself. Here is a woman strangled to death by manual strength, and thrust up a chimney head downward. Ordinary assassins employ no such mode of murder as this. Least of all, do they thus dispose of the murdered. In this manner of thrusting the corpse up the chimney, you will admit that there was something excessively outré–something altogether irreconcilable with our common notions of human action, even when we suppose the actors the most depraved of men. Think, too, how great must have been that strength which could have thrust the body up such an aperture so forcibly that the united vigor of several persons was found barely sufficient to drag it down!"(219)
I found Dupin's logic here extremely sound, though not terribly impressive. He is completely correct in that the methods of murder and the attempted concealment are completely unlike those of an assassin or some other type of trained, hired killer. An assassin would almost never bother with strangulation as a method of killing because it is so unnecessarily brutal (and relatively slow). Also, almost no assassin would leave their instrument of murder (the razor) at the scene of the crime, nor would they even attempt to hide a corpse inside a chimney (which, as Dupin mentioned, would be almost impossible). However, I think that while his reasoning is impressive, most people would have also immediately rejected the possibility of an assassin, making this conclusion only somewhat impressive.
2) A passage in which I found an identification / conclusion / string of reasoning baldly untenable.
"Whist has long been known 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 a 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 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..." (197)
While having nothing to do with the actual mystery, I found the narrator's reasoning about the inferiority of chess to be poorly done. While chess is undoubtedly a more complex game than checkers or some card games, that does not make a chess player any less "proficient" than that of another player. The narrator claims that being able to understand everything about the game, including other players, is good analysis, but he or she doe not seem to realize that everything in the paragraph can be applied to chess as well. There is nothing stopping a good chess player from analyzing their opponents and learning their habits, especially over multiple games. Most of the reasoning is simply describing general game theory and the ability to understand and predict the moves of one's opponents, which can be applied to any game, including chess.
3) A passage in which I found genuinely confounding either because of language or plot: some place you had to stop and go back or you have 'uh, wut...' written in your book, etc.
“Let him talk,” said Dupin, who had not thought it necessary to reply. “Let him discourse; it will ease his conscience. I am satisfied with having defeated him in his own castle. Nevertheless, that he failed in the solution of this mystery, is by no means that matter for wonder which he supposes it; for, in truth, our friend the Prefect is somewhat too cunning to be profound. In his wisdom is no stamen. It is all head and no body, like the pictures of the Goddess Laverna–or, at best, all head and shoulders, like a codfish. But he is a good creature after all. I like him especially for one master stroke of cant, by which he has attained his reputation for ingenuity. I mean the way he has ‘de nier ce qui est, et d’expliquer ce qui n’est pas.'” (228)
The conclusion of this short story was somewhat confusing to read. I had to reread it a few times before I could somewhat understand exactly what Dupin was trying to convey. The footnotes were helpful, but the overall phrasing of the paragraph made it hard to digest.
I agree with your comments on Dupin's reasoning about the inferiority of chess. I think Poe did the same thing in the Purloined Letter as well when Dupin started talking about how the minister was kind of dumb because he was a mathematician and math is also inferior. I too am confused as to why Poe does this.
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