The Conversation of Eiros and CharmionThe Conversation of Eiros and 
            Charmion
            by Edgar Allan Poe



      Editor's Notes by Blake Linton Wilfong
            This gem from 1839 is an early example of the "cosmic disaster" 
      science fiction tale, showing how biblical end-of-the-world prophecy might 
      be fulfilled through hard scientific fact. It is also highly imaginative: 
      what better setting for a post-apocalyptic story than the afterlife (which 
      Poe called "Aidenn")?
            Poe set a perfect example for later SF authors by utilizing the best 
      scientific information available at his time. His statement of the 
      proportions of and roles played by the elements in our atmosphere is 
      essentially correct. And, as he explained, comets have little mass 
      compared to their immense apparent sizes. Of course, cometary nuclei are 
      now known to be solid, not gaseous as Poe thought, and Earth has passed 
      through comet tails without incident.
            Still, the kinetic energy of the collision of fragments of comet 
      Shoemaker-Levy 9 with Jupiter in 1992 produced fireballs larger than 
      Earth. Poe's vision is not far wrong. 


"I will bring fire to thee."
                    Euripides, Andromache
EIROS
Why do you call me Eiros? 
CHARMION
So henceforth shall you always be called. You must forget, too, my earthly name, 
and call me Charmion. 
EIROS
This is indeed no dream! 
CHARMION
Dreams are no more; of these mysteries anon. I rejoice to see you, so lifelike! 
Your allotted days of stupor have expired; tomorrow, I will teach you the joys 
and wonders of your novel existence. 
EIROS
Yes, my mind is clear. The wild sickness and terrible darkness are gone, I hear 
no longer that mad, rushing, horrible sound, "like the voice of many waters". 
Yet, new sensations bewilder me. 
CHARMION
Time will remedy this--but I understand, and feel for you. Ten earthly years ago 
I underwent what you undergo. You have now suffered all the pain, however, which 
you will suffer in Aidenn. 
EIROS
Aidenn? Oh, God! Pity me, Charmion! The majesty of all things--of the unknown 
now known--of speculative Future merged in certain Present, overburdens me. 
CHARMION
Grapple not yet with such thoughts. Seek relief in simple memory. I long to hear 
of that stupendous event which threw you among us. Let us converse of familiar 
things, of the world which so fearfully perished. Was I much mourned, my Eiros? 
EIROS
Deeply. To the last hour, a cloud of sorrow hung over your household. 
CHARMION
Of that last hour, inform me. When I passed into Night through the Grave, the 
catastrophe which overwhelmed you was utterly unanticipated. 
EIROS
True. Men understood the most holy writings which speak of the final destruction 
of all things by fire, as referring to Earth alone. And astronomers had 
mistakenly divested comets of all terror; vapory and tenuous, they had been 
observed passing among the satellites of Jupiter without disturbing their 
orbits. We regarded comets as incapable of injuring our substantial globe. That 
one should cause fiery destruction, seemed absurd. 


Nonetheless, the astronomers' announcement of a new comet inspired apprehension. 
Long had men believed comets portents of ill, heralds of pestilence and war. 
Worse, its path, at perihelion, was predicted to bring it into contact with 
Earth. Laymen steeped in worldly considerations had difficulty grasping this 
concept, but the truth of a vitally important fact soon becomes apparent to even 
the most stolid. All men saw that astronomical knowledge lied not, and awaited 
the comet. 
Its approach seemed slow at first. For a week it remained a small, dull glow in 
the sky. The ordinary affairs of men halted; everyone became absorbed in 
discussion of the comet. Learned men gave their intellect--their souls--to 
allaying fear, and to beloved theory. They studied, analyzed, deduced. Truth 
arose in her purity, strength, and majesty, and the wise fawned and adored. 
Scientists proclaimed the comet's nucleus far less dense than our rarest gas. 
Theologists reminded us that the world must end in fire, and that comets were 
not fiery. For a brief moment, reason hurled superstition from her throne! 
What minor evils might arise were elaborately debated. The learned conjectured 
slight geological disturbances, alterations in climate, and consequently in 
vegetation; magnetic and electric influences. Perhaps no perceptible effect 
would ensue. Meanwhile, the comet gradually approached, growing in apparent 
diameter and brightness. Mankind paled as it came, despite all reassurances. 
When the comet grew larger than any previously recorded visitation, the people 
felt certainty of evil. Their fears no longer seemed chimerical. The hearts of 
the stoutest men beat violently within their bosoms. In a few days, however, 
such feelings merged into sentiments even more unendurable. We could no longer 
apply to the strange orb any accustomed thoughts. Its historical attributes had 
disappeared. It oppressed us with a hideous novelty of emotion. More than an 
astronomical phenomenon, it became an incubus on our hearts, a shadow on our 
brains. It had taken, inconceivably quickly, the character of a gigantic mantle 
of rare flame, extending from horizon to horizon. 
Another day, and men breathed easier. Clearly already within the comet's 
influence, we lived. We even felt an unusual elasticity of frame and vivacity of 
mind. The comet's exceeding tenuity was apparent; heavenly objects were plainly 
visible through it. Meantime, all vegetation had perceptibly altered, bursting 
into a luxuriance of foliage, and we gained faith, from this predicted 
circumstance, in the foresight of the wise. 
Yet another day, and the evil was not altogether upon us. The first sense of 
pain--rigorous constriction of breast and lungs, insufferable dryness of 
skin--brought widespread lamentation and horror. Our atmosphere was obviously 
radically altered, and when this alteration was investigated, terror filled the 
heart of mankind. 
The air around us had long been known to consist of 21% oxygen and 79% nitrogen 
gases. Oxygen--the principle of combustion, and vehicle of heat--supported 
animal life, and was the most powerful, energetic agent in nature. Nitrogen, 
however, supported neither animal life nor flame. An unnatural excess of oxygen 
would result, it was ascertained, in such an elevation of animal spirits as we 
were experiencing. And what would be the result of total extraction of the 
nitrogen? Combustion irresistible, universal, immediate--the fulfilment of the 
fiery prophecies of the Holy Book! 
Need I paint, Charmion, mankind's unleashed frenzy? That impalpable, tenuous 
comet would be our doom! Another day passed, along with the last shadow of Hope. 
We gasped in rapidly changing air, red blood bounding tumultuously through 
strict channels. Delirium possessed us; arms outstretched toward the threatening 
heavens, we trembled and screamed. The nucleus of the destroyer was upon us: 
even here in Aidenn, I shudder while I speak. A wild lurid light glared, 
penetrating everything. Then--let us bow down, Charmion, before God's 
majesty!--there came a shouting, pervading sound, as if from HIS mouth; while 
the very ether about us burst into intense flame, for whose surpassing 
brilliance and heat even the angels have no name. Thus ended all. 

        
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