Auguste Dupin sits smoking a pipe in his dark little pièce and relives with the narrator their glory days of having solved “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” and “The Mystery of Marie Roget.” A knock at the door reveals the head of the Paris police, the prefect, who tells Dupin that he has a simple but odd case.īefore the prefect can explain, Dupin annoyingly and at length suggests that perhaps the mystery is too simple, too plain, too self-evident. Set in Paris in the mid-18th Century, private detective C. It is one of Poe’s mysteries that has remained unsolved until now. Most readers have heard of “The Purloined Letter” but may not be familiar with the story. But it’s a fun word to throw around: “someone has purloined my lunch.” Or “Alice purloined Jill’s keys.” Suddenly a mundane phrase becomes très chouette!
If not for Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Purloined Letter,” it would long since have disappeared from the lexicon. You don’t hear too many people using the word purloined.
Auguste Dupin, and the villain who’s been right in front of our eyes this whole time. To celebrate his would-be 210th name day, we’re taking a look back at “The Purloined Letter,” C. Today, January 19th, is Edgar Allan Poe’s birthday.
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