About the Mystery Writers of Americas Edgar Award
The first Edgar Award was bestowed in 1946 on Julian Fast for his debut novel, Watchful at Night, and in the more than fifty years since, the stylized ceramic bust of the great author has become one of the top prizes in the field of mystery fiction. The award categories, in addition to Best First Novel, have been expanded over time to include Best Novel, Best Short Story, Best Paperback Original, Best Young Adult Novel, Best Juvenile Novel, Best Fact Crime, Best Critical/Biographical, Best Play, Best Television Episode, and Best Motion Picture. The Edgar has been won by many noted authors in the field, including Stuart Kaminsky, Michael Connelly, T. Jefferson Parker, Jan Burke, Lisa Scottoline, Laura Lippman, Laurie R. King, Steve Hamilton, Peter Robinson, Edward D. Hoch, S. J. Rozan, Thomas H. Cook, Joseph Wambaugh, Jeffery Deaver, Rupert Holmes, Anne Perry, Patricia Cornwell, Ira Levin, Thomas Harris, Dick Francis, Ruth Rendell, Lawrence Block, Elmore Leonard, Ken Follett, Frederick Forsyth, Harlan Ellison, and many, many others.
About the Illustrator
His first commission-illustrating a trade and deluxe edition of Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen -came from George Harrap in 1913. For the next six years, he worked at the same time on illustrating the Edgar Allan Poe collection Tales of Mystery and Imagination . Clarke used the techniques he learned from working in stained glass on his macabre illustrations of Poes dark stories. The resulting work, Poes dark vision brought to stunning life by Clarkes detailed imagery, created a sensation when the first edition was published in October 1919. Other books that Clarke illustrated include The Years at the Spring, Fairy Tales by Charles Perrault, Goethe's Faust, and Selected Poems of Algernon Charles Swinburne . He also created more than 130 stained-glass windows, one of which, The Baptism of St. Patrick, was selected for exhibition at the Louvre in Paris.
Unfortunately, the unceasing, grueling pace of his work, perhaps along with the toxic chemicals used in the stained-glass process, cut his life short. In 1931, at the age of forty-one, Harry Clarke died in Switzerland while trying to recover from tuberculosis.
What Poe Hath Wrought BY MICHAEL CONNELLY
across a field of pristine grass, not a single blade broken. Today that path has been worn down to a deep trench that crosses the imagination of the whole world. If you look at best-seller lists, movie charts, and television ratings, they are simply dominated by the mystery genre and its many offshoots. The tendrils of imagination behind these contemporary works can be traced all the way back to Poe.
This collection is presented to you by the Mystery Writers of America. Since day one this organization has held Edgar Allan Poe as its symbol of excellence. The annual award bestowed by the MWA on the authors of books, television shows, and films of merit is a bust of Edgar Allan Poe. It is a caricature, and what is most notable about it is that the figures head is oversized to the point of being as wide as his shoulders. Having the honor of guest-editing this collection of stories and essays, I now realize why Edgars head is so big.
Im not going to get analytical about Poes life or work here. I leave that to his disciples. Gathered here with his most notable works are the long and short thoughts of those who follow Poe-the writers who directly or not so directly have taken inspiration from him. These are Edgar winners, best-selling authors, and practitioners of the short story. From Stephen King, who writes so eloquently of his connection to Poe, to Sue Grafton, who lovingly, grudgingly, gives Poe his due, to the late Edward Hoch, who penned over nine hundred seventy-five short stories, these writers are the modern masters of the world Poe created. The idea here is simple. This is a birthday party. The twenty guests invited here by the Mystery Writers of America have come to honor Edgar Allan Poe on his two hundredth birthday. We celebrate his work, and we celebrate all that his work has wrought.
I wonder what Poe would think of this. My guess is that it would give him a big head.
A Descent into the Maelström
The little cliff, upon whose edge he had so carelessly thrown himself down to rest that the weightier portion of his body hung over it, while he was only kept from falling by the tenure of his elbow on its extreme and slippery edge-this little cliff arose, a sheer unobstructed precipice of black shining rock, some fifteen or sixteen hundred feet from the world of crags beneath us. Nothing would have tempted me to be within half a dozen yards of its brink. In truth so deeply was I excited by the perilous position of my companion, that I fell at full length upon the ground, clung to the shrubs around me, and dared not even glance upward at the sky-while I struggled in vain to divest myself of the idea that the very foundations of the mountain were in danger from the fury of the winds. It was long before I could reason myself into sufficient courage to sit up and look out into the distance.