Let me tell you, without Wikipedia, I would have thought I had accidentally picked up a menu from a French bistro instead of an Edgar Allan Poe short story! Seriously, what was Poe thinking? A story that’s half in French? Am I supposed to be reading literature or planning my next trip to Paris? I tackled those French portions as if I were deciphering ancient hieroglyphs, and all I got was a headache and a feeling of insecurity. Congratulations, Poe! You’ve officially crushed my self-esteem and my hopes of being an elite reader. If this tale had been written in just one language, I might have laughed and enjoyed it. But no! Instead, I finished it feeling like I had just survived a mental obstacle course, only to cross the finish line and ask myself, “What on Earth did I just read?”
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