"It is more than probable that I am not understood -- but I fear that it is indeed in no manner possible to convey to the mind of the merely general reader, an adequate idea..." 
 Yeah, what he said right near the beginning of this tale. 2.5 stars rounded up to three. Not looking good for Mr. Poe's horror short stories so far, or at least the obscure ones. He's pretty weighty, and I had to use the internet to look up what the hell was going on again, but maybe I'm not being fair. I was playing the moral-support role with some sick relatives at the hospital early in the morning when I read this, so I was quite tired and probably had no business even reading Dr. Seuss let alone Poe. 
 This is weird, and I liked it (once I found out what was going on)... I guess? First off, the character is a loony. He suffers from an infatuation condition, or something. He starts to focus on something and obsesses about it to the point of madness. Coming up is a super spoiler, so don't click the link if you have any plan to read this story. (view spoiler)[It's his wife or betrothed's teeth (I can't remember if they married before the climax). While in one of his spells he thinks she's dead, but he loves the teeth so much that he digs her up and takes them. When he comes out of his mania he's horrified to discover she ain't dead, but has been found alive in a grave nonetheless. Also, he has all her teeth with him along with a dirty shovel and filthy clothes. Woops! (hide spoiler)] I think this is grounds for divorce or calling off the nuptials. 
 The story is cool, so why am I giving it low marks? One thing that's grating on me with these stories is Edgar's writing style. He gets quite Hugoesque. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Hugo has books that are millions of pages long, so there's time for this effusiveness. Poe's pulling this shit in a 10 page story, so by the time you get past that crap, there's not a lot of room for story left. Here are a couple of examples: 
 Ah! vividly is her image before me now, as in the early days of her light-heartedness and joy! Oh! gorgeous yet fantastic beauty! Oh! Sylph amid the shrubberies of Arnheim! -- Oh! Naiad among her fountains! 
 I get it. She's hot. 
 In the multiplied objects of the external world I had no thoughts but for the teeth. All other matters and all different interests became absorbed in their single contemplation. They -- they alone were present to the mental eye, and they, in their sole individuality, became the essence of my mental life. I held them in every light -- I turned them in every attitude. I surveyed their characteristics -- I dwelt upon their peculiarities -- I pondered upon their conformation -- I mused upon the alteration in their nature -- and shuddered as I assigned to them in imagination a sensitive and sentient power, and even when unassisted by the lips, a capability of moral expression. 
 I get it. Her teeth are hot. 
 This would be fantastic if it were just a couple of isolated incidents, but this kind of thing goes on all. the. time. I guess I just wasn't in the mood for the excessive prose. Sometimes I like it, but it just isn't doing it for me right now. I really need to stop reading these stories when I'm tired. I'm sure my appreciation for them would improve. 
 We do get some wonderful gems like this, though: 
 "Seized with an epileptic fit she had fallen dead in the early morning, and now, at the closing in of the night, the grave was ready for its tenant..." 
 "Ready for its tenant" is great stuff. But you know what isn't great whether I'm tired or wide awake? Foreign phrases that aren't explained such as: 
 "de amplitudine beati regni Dei" 
 "de Carne Christi" 
 "Mortuus est Dei filius; credible est quia ineptum est: et sepultus resurrexit; certum est quia impossibile est" 
 "Of Mad'selle Salle it has been said, "que tous ses pas etoient [[etaient]] des sentiments," and of Berenice I more seriously believed que touts ses dents etaient des idees." 
 "Dicebant mihi sodales si sepulchrum amicae visit arem [[visitarem]] curas meas aliquantulum fore levatas." 
 That's a lot of foreign words for a 10 page story. Go ahead on with your bad-ass, educated self. These are just in the text with no translation. My book doesn't have footnotes to explain them. I don't have a smart phone. I'm not always reading this near a computer, and even if I were, what fun would it be to have to jump on Google translate every other page? Owblay itay outay ouryay ittyday agbay, Oepay. 
 I could see people really liking this. Hell, I could see myself really liking it, but it just didn't happen today. Wrong time, I guess. Maybe I'll read it again one day. Maybe I'll even do it soon. After finding out some nuances tonight while researching and writing this review, I find I like this better than I did when I first finished it and was confused. Fickle, thy name is Pierce, but I'm sticking with three stars. I wish I was better at reading comprehension. I have some friends who could pick up on everything on the first read through. Oh well. I reckon I can't be good at everything.