Popular Culture Review Vol. 22, No. 1, Winter 2011 | Page 63

Thank You, Mr. Poe 59 he had been lying motionless for the past half hour” (600), and upon inquiry of D’Agosta as to his perceived rest, Pendergast explains to him: “I wasn’t napping, Vincent—I was thinking” (600). Like Dupin, Pendergast’s body becomes still and his mind seems to vacate the body during these informative, fact-finding mental quests. A second quality that Pendergast inherits from Dupin is the need to exist outside of the realm of society and its institutions. According to critic Leroy Panek, “Dupin’s personality depends. . . on the Byronic conception of the exiled genius and on Poe’s own concoction . . . of the legend of genius spumed by society. In creating Dupin, Poe had no notion that he would become the original eccentric detective. . . ” (26). The narrating assistant describes his and Dupin’s abnormal lifestyle by explaining that “Had the routine of our life at this [grotesque mansion] been known to the world, we should have been regarded as madmen . . . Our seclusion was perfect. We admitted no visitors . . . We existed within ourselves alone. It was a freak of fancy in my friend . . . to be enamored of the night for her own sake” (277). Lothar Cemy also explains in his article, “Dupin is a New Mythological Figure,” that “[Dupin’s] position is always ‘excentric,’ at the margin of the social hierarchy, and his is without self-interest” (52-53). Dupin, with the company of his assistant, did not need human interaction and notably behaved oddly. Pendergast’s peripheral position in society, again while reverberating with Dupin’s obvious influence, is clearly described in every aspect of his character; and, like his trips through his Memory Palace in comparison to Dupin’s Bi-Soul, is extremely more developed as a result of Preston and Child’s luxury of narrative length. Some of Pendergast’s Dupin-ian eccentricities include his working for the FBI, but never having to defer to anyone within the FBI; he spurns shows of affection as is demonstrated when Corrie Swanson tries to hug him in gratitude at the conclusion of Still Life with Crows (559); and while he works well with people of his choosing, he never seems to really develop intimate relationships with any other characters in these stories. In fact, one example of his notable exclusion from society is made by someone who had worked with him in a book prior to making this statement in Cabinet o f Curiosities: “As far as the man personally, I don’t know anything about him. He’s a cipher. You never really know what he’s thinking. Christ, I don’t even know his first name” (41). Pendergast generously gives money and assistance to many people and draws from his own resources to do good for others and society, similar to Dupin’s lack of “self-interest,” but he still exists outside the normal circle of humanity. Related to their eccentric social characteristics, but to be considered separately, are Dupin’s and Pendergast’s impatience for dealing with law enforcement institutions. It provides both characters with a rebellious sort of edge that may appeal to readers’ need to also sometimes spurn law enforcement’s usual and sometimes misplaced authority. Dupin’s criticism of the Parisian police in “Murders of the Rue Morgue” is very evident: “The