Ending of 'The Lover'

Here the promised real ending of our short story:
Enjoy reading!
Carrie and Kati

That poem again! That same poem! What was it? Why did it fit the scene so perfectly? And why couldn't she remember it?
'What an awful wind,' she said as casually as possibly. 'Perhaps I ought to make sure that --- 'She had been working her way towards the door when he turned and slowly shook his head. She stopped. Hypnotised. Unable to take another step away from him.
Destiny, her mind told her. This is your destiny; what you were created for. London, Paris, New York - no matter where you went you had to return here. To this cottage. To this man. Quietly he walked towards her, past her, and on towards the heavy oak door. The key twisted in the lock, the shutters closed silently over the windows.
Gently, very gently, he took her arm and led her back to the hearth and the blazing fire. They were alone and she wanted to scream, but she couldn't.
' And last she sat down by my side And called me . . . . . ' That poem! That damned poem! How did it go? Please God, how did it go? Please, please let her remember!
' . . . when no voice replied She put my arm about her waist And made her smooth white shoulder bare . . . '
His left arm held her tightly, the slender fingers biting into her skin, while his right hand caressed the softness of her fair hair.
'But passion sometimes would prevail Nor could tonight's gay feast restrain A sudden thought of one so pale For love of her . . . . . . .'
Love? This wasn't love! This was madness. Insanity. He was crazy. He'd taken something of beauty and twisted it into macabre reality.
'Be sure I looked up at her eyes . . . ' His own eyes shone with a maniacal fervour. 'Happy and proud at last I knew Porphyria worshipped me . . . '
Porphyria! Browning's poem! She knew it! Oh my god, no! No! No!
'That moment she was mine, mine fair Perfectly pure and good . . . '
She wanted to scream. She tried to scream. But she couldn't. His fingers were about her throat and no sound emerged. She fought for air but she could feel her body falling, falling. Her mind struggled to escape from the darkness but all she could hear was a voice, a distant voice, fading, ecstatic . . . .
'. . . and all her hair In one long yellow string I wound Three times her little throat around And strangled her . . . '


Steffi K. hat gesagt…

This short story is really different to all the other texts we've had in our course.
The ending is very nice and exciting though it's a bit uncommon to strangle a person with her hair, in my opinion.
In spite of that, I liked the story.Nice idea to publish the ending in our blog.

See you tomorrow.

rip hat gesagt…

By the way, the title of Browning's poem is "Porphyria's Lover", and you can find the complete text at various websites, e.g. here:

CU ;-)

lemony snicket hat gesagt…

well, I don't know...I really just can't get the point of the story! Who is this guy? What does he want? And what's the matter with the poem?? And the most important question: Why the hell didn't she scream or better run away? I'd really like to know, because I thought the story was very exciting and I'd like to understand it. So could anybody (somebody?)explain it to me? I even red "Porphyria's Lover" on the linked website but I just can't figure out the meaning!!

so please, please get into the blog and help me out of my...erm...erm... well, just answer me as soon as possible, please! thanks ^^ lemony

Melissa hat gesagt…

I understand you Angelika.They way she gets killed is very weird.But I think that it´s a good thing that we can´t understand the point of the story.It´s very strange and I would even go as far to say "sick".So...we don´t have to understand it.We´re too normal to understand it.

rip hat gesagt…

@Steffi K., lemony snicket, Melissa:
Congratulations! You've either just discovered how to use the comment function of the blog properly - or you've known about it all along but have decided to admit it now ;-)
Anyway: This is what I'd like to see more often here.

And as to the content of the story: Well. It IS rather ... strange. But hey, that's what makes it fun to comment on ;-)
That doesn't mean (let me add this prophylactically) that all our texts ought to be weird. You can also enjoy talking about serious texts. Seriously. Try it. :-)