That is, of course, until The Simpsons made it equally entertaining, but that’s a story for another time. Who needed a repetitive bird who’d only mastered one trick when you had a chick who was so built she dug herself out of the ground? You didn’t. I, at the time, thought this was all that was good about Poe. Sure, they don’t exactly have the best ending, but Madeline got the revenge she wanted, brief as it was, and it was the coolest. Regardless, this chick was so cool she managed to dig herself out the grave and go give her brother a nice butt whooping in exchange for mistaking her as dead. I wanted to be Madeline, but also not, because who would ever want to be buried alive? Nope, no thanks. The sequel to Kill Bill had been released a few years prior too and I distinctly remember thinking, “Holy sea biscuits, this girl is the original Uma Thurman.” And that was so awesome to me.
I still remembering reading the original for the first time in a musty seventh grade classroom. There’s something about The Fall of the House of Usher that I’ve always found intriguing, so of course I swept this up as quick as I possibly could. Told in flashes of time and years scattered, she and her brother must find a way to escape the house, once and for all, channeling a retelling of Edgar Allan Poe’s beloved tale. Madeline has spent her life battling the sickness and curse that has plagued so many in her family before her.
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