#really wouldnt be surpised if muir deliberately drew parallels here but i would still be /amazed/

[dyke-mecha]

Finished rereading NTN yesterday and the tower in the river immediately made me think of Edgar Allan Poe's poem The City in The Sea. I've included the poem beneath the read more (it's really good, definitely one of my favorite works of his, please give it a read)

I wonder if it's only a coincidence or if Muir deliberately tried to create a connection here? I think it definitely could be possible, especially considering the whole Annabell Lee thing.

At least to me it feels like this poem could very well be about the River. "The good and the bad and the worst and the best have gone to their eternal rest" in this city in the sea, which sounds like all the souls in the River to me. Also the fact that "Death has reared himself a throne" (aka is controlling the place now) sounds a lot like John mastering necromancy (and potentially doing something to the River that messed it up). The tower(s) in the poem are also mentioned multiple times and given special significance, which could be mirrored in the lone Tower in the River.

"The waves now have a redder glow" also REALLY sounds like what's going on with the River (excerpt from Chapter 7 of HTN): "THE WATER CAME BUBBLING up through the bolted seams in the floor panels, a filthy, rusty red[...]". The end of the poem counting down to hell breaking loose ("the hours are breathing faint and low") also reminds me of how in NTN we counted down the last days until the Tomb would open.

I'm not sure what conclusion to draw from this (aside from "Muir is maybe or maybe not referencing a poem I know by heart"), but I think it's neat! Would love to hear if others made the same connection or have more to add to this.

The City In The Sea

Lo! Death has reared himself a throne

     In a strange city lying alone

     Far down within the dim West,

     Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best

     Have gone to their eternal rest.

     There shrines and palaces and towers

     (Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)

     Resemble nothing that is ours.

     Around, by lifting winds forgot,

     Resignedly beneath the sky

     The melancholy waters lie.

     No rays from the holy heaven come down

     On the long night-time of that town;

     But light from out the lurid sea

     Streams up the turrets silently-

     Gleams up the pinnacles far and free-

     Up domes- up spires- up kingly halls-

     Up fanes- up Babylon-like walls-

     Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers

     Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers-

     Up many and many a marvellous shrine

     Whose wreathed friezes intertwine

     The viol, the violet, and the vine.

     Resignedly beneath the sky

     The melancholy waters lie.

     So blend the turrets and shadows there

     That all seem pendulous in air,

     While from a proud tower in the town

     Death looks gigantically down.

     There open fanes and gaping graves

     Yawn level with the luminous waves;

     But not the riches there that lie

     In each idol's diamond eye-

     Not the gaily-jewelled dead

     Tempt the waters from their bed;

     For no ripples curl, alas!

     Along that wilderness of glass-

     No swellings tell that winds may be

     Upon some far-off happier sea-

     No heavings hint that winds have been

     On seas less hideously serene.

     But lo, a stir is in the air!

     The wave- there is a movement there!

     As if the towers had thrust aside,

     In slightly sinking, the dull tide-

     As if their tops had feebly given

     A void within the filmy Heaven.

     The waves have now a redder glow-

     The hours are breathing faint and low-

     And when, amid no earthly moans,

     Down, down that town shall settle hence,

     Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,

     Shall do it reverence.