[In the following essay, Voloshin examines “The Fall of the House of Usher” as a unique variation of the gothic genre of short fiction that blends natural, preternatural, and supernatural elements to create an unusually haunting effect.]

I shall argue here that in his masterwork, “The Fall of the House of Usher,” Poe produces a unique turn to the possibilities the gothic genre had developed for explaining its mysteries. While mysterious and frightening appearances in gothic fiction exist partly and sometimes largely for their shock value, they are also expressive of the epistemological dilemmas of an enlightened age. Beginning in the middle of the eighteenth century, gothic fiction opened out what was problematic in the epistemological component of the enlightened bourgeois order. This epistemology was given its fullest expression in John Locke's An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (first edition, 1690), which constructed a model of mind suited to the new mechanical science of nature. Both the new science and the new psychology overturned older hierarchical models; the mind no longer had innate knowledge of or direct access to the highest principles of life or to the divine; knowledge was largely reduced to the collection and arrangement of “ideas” (Locke's term), representations in the chamber of the mind, coming in through the windows of the senses, of external things.¹ One of the chief problems of such a representational theory of knowledge is to guarantee a correspondence between ideas and things, or between the order of the mind and the order of nature, yet Locke could only do so through rather weak arguments for the existence and benevolence of God. The linchpin was loose, and it is precisely this fit which gothic fiction questions.²

In the Lockean model and in gothic fiction as well, perception, the vehicle of appearances, is the only link between mind and the external world—that is, nature and, possibly, the supernatural.³ Like its gothic predecessors, Poe's fiction questions the nature of appearances, and in his tales of terror, he subtly combines the three explanations for unusual appearances offered in gothic fiction—the preternatural, the natural, and the psychological—to create unusually haunting effects. The finest example of this multivalence is “The Fall of the House of Usher.” While dual or multiple explanations for the strange and frightening in gothic fiction are almost always offered as alternative, mutually exclusive interpretations, in “Usher” Poe subtly shades the categories of the supernatural, the natural, and the psychological into each other. Finally Poe resolves the problem of appearances in this tale not with one of these explanations but in a unique and radical fashion.⁴

From the beginning in “Usher” the narrator is preoccupied with the problem of the connection between mind and the external world. How are sensations and appearances produced? “I know not how it was—but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I say insufferable; for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, sentiment, with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible.”⁵ For the narrator, a picturesque traveller, here are sublime images, but no sublime experience. Thus the first mystery of the tale is the process of perception itself. The narrator clings to a physical explanation: “I was forced to fall back on the unsatisfactory conclusion, that while, beyond doubt, there are combinations of very simple natural objects which have the power of thus affecting us, still the analysis of this power lies among considerations beyond our depth” (274).⁶ Checking his hypothesis of physical cause, the narrator changes perspective, to be affected by a different arrangement of objects and hence to have a different sensation. But our picturesque traveller is not given the surprise he anticipates; instead he is surprised by no surprise. From his second vantage point, he sees the same images, inverted in the tarn. Of course, this does not disprove the physical hypothesis. The narrator may indeed be affected by a peculiar or singular arrangement of natural objects. Alternatively, he may be frightening himself, as he later suspects—a psychological explanation. Or this could be the eerie introduction to further preternatural experiences.

The tale offers all the gothic tradition's explanations for unusual appearances and impressions. The narrator himself introduces the possibility of supernatural cause. To bracket his terror, his intuition of the un-or supernatural at the House of Usher, the narrator uses the term “superstition.” Interestingly, the narrator's usage departs from the conventional, for with reference both to himself and to Roderick, the narrator does not refer to superstitious beliefs, but to superstitious impressions (276, 280, 290). A belief may be corroborated or falsified by some empirical evidence, but how can one disprove an impression or feeling? An impression must be produced by something—something in the subject or in the object or in the natural process of sensation and perception connecting subject and object—and so the narrator's language, even as it dismisses supernatural cause as fictitious, leaves open the possibility of such cause and contributes to rendering cause problematic.

The unusual and unnatural in the story—an utterly strange atmosphere; a mysterious, decaying castle; an undead corpse; the blasting of the Usher line—strongly suggest the supernatural. For the reader, Poe opens up the possibility of a particular supernatural explanation. Roderick and Madeline seem doomed, for Poe hints that their House has been placed under the curse of vampirism, as J. O. Bailey has persuasively argued. The figures of Roderick and Madeline, thin and pale, resemble the victims of vampires.⁷ Their sickness, like vampirism, is incurable. Roderick's malady is, he explains, “a constitutional and a family evil”; as for the lady Madeline, her disease “had long baffled the skill of her physicians” (280, 281-82). Roderick has summoned the narrator, his boyhood friend, to solace him because of the “approaching dissolution” of his “tenderly beloved sister” (281)—or, perhaps, to see her well buried. Roderick tries to inter his still-living sister in a vault where, it seems, no light will reach her; thus the sister will be killed and not return to suck out her brother's life. For moonlight, and especially the light of the full moon, will revive a vampire. But the trick doesn't work, and Roderick is overcome with terror as he anticipates Madeline's re-emergence. In vampire lore, the curse of vampirism on a line entails its destruction, for vampires attack their next of kin, and certainly the Ushers have been dying out, and there is some sort of struggle between Roderick and Madeline. As Bailey argues, Poe conceals the story's basis of terror by hinting at vampirism rather than being explicit and by using a narrator who is a skeptic regarding the supernatural; Poe subtilizes the vampire theme, refining away gross details: there is no blood sucking, no stake through the heart, no priestly exorcism, for example. The most obvious candidate for vampire is Madeline, but Bailey's more striking thesis is that the House itself is a vampire; it is haunted or possessed and feeds on the vitality of the psychically sensitive Roderick.⁸ Roderick tries to resist or counter the combined forces of Madeline and the House (by bringing in the narrator to interrupt his connection to the House, by burying Madeline, by blocking sensory stimulation, for example). Poe thus makes of the House (in its double sense) a sort of psychic energy system. The vampire motif, then, suggests a supernatural explanation for what happens at the House of Usher; but in transforming vampire lore into a representation of the House as a system of force, Poe also obscures the classic gothic distinctions between the supernatural, the natural, and the psychological.

But then both the narrator and Roderick explain how their fear feeds on itself, and thus we can see the terrors of the story as imaginary or subjectively produced rather than actual—the psychological explanation for gothic mystery and terror. Roderick is convinced of the identity, or interdependence, of Madeline and himself and therefore believes that she cannot die while he is still alive. His neurotically acute senses seem to register Madeline's struggles in the tomb. Predisposed to apprehension by his first impressions of the Usher domain, the narrator gradually becomes infected with Roderick's fears. He notes that after Madeline's burial, Roderick becomes more distracted and more vacant, forms of behavior (perhaps opposite forms) for which the narrator can account with opposite hypotheses, that Roderick is laboring with an oppressive secret or is caught in the vagaries of madness. Yet whatever the cause, and no matter how much the narrator tries to deny that there is an objective cause, he concludes, “It was no wonder that his condition terrified—that it infected me” (289-90). Roderick and the terrified narrator take the noises of the storm, given pointed allegorical meaning by the story of the “Mad Trist,” to be the sounds of Madeline's emerging from the tomb. Roderick seems to be falling into a self-enclosed dream state, which could be taken as the catatonic's blocking of external reality or as the dreamer's production of his own nightmare: “he rocked from side to side with a gentle yet constant and uniform sway” (295). Perhaps Usher is overcome not by Madeline but by his imaginings, as prophesied in his earlier statement, “I feel that the period will sooner or later arrive when I must abandon life and reason together, in some struggle with the grim phantasm, Fear” (280). Or, as the narrator analyzes the effect of being unnerved at the sight of the House of Usher, acceleration “is the paradoxical law of all sentiments having terror as a basis” (276). The narrator comments that Usher died “a victim to the terrors he had anticipated” (296). Objective or subjective terrors—who can say if the narrator is also terrified?

Underscoring the psychological explanation for strange impressions and appearances is the fact that the House of Usher is an image of Roderick's mind, as indicated by the narrator's similar descriptions of the House and of Roderick's head and by Roderick's allegorical and self-referential lyric, “The Haunted Palace”; the tale is, therefore, on one level, an allegory of mental struggle and collapse. The narrator's many references to dreams and his difficulties in distinguishing waking from dreaming while at the House of Usher also suggest that the events of the tale represent a phantasm or inner drama. This inner drama is one of desire for and dread of Madeline (or what she represents) and is so intense that Roderick cannot name it. We see it in its consequences: Roderick's attachment to Madeline—he insists that there had always existed between them “sympathies of a scarcely intelligible nature” (289); his extraordinary nervousness; his attempt to be rid of Madeline; and his perishing in her embrace. Thus the strange and unnatural in the story is a projection of Roderick's psychic life, or a projection of this as intuited by the narrator.

If we focus on the narrator's role as observer of the drama of Madeline and Roderick and hence as the consciousness which contains the phantasm, then the tale as psychological allegory shows the workings of the artistic imagination. Usher the artist seems to represent Poe or part of Poe, seething down his soul to create art works from his terrible dreams. Though Usher is destroyed by his creations, the narrator escapes, representing that part of the Romantic artist which can survive and re-create the imagined world.⁹

But further, both the narrator and Roderick attempt to account for frightening and unusual appearances with natural explanations, however unusual. The narrator once offers Roderick natural explanations (not unlike those which really explain phenomena in Radcliffe's gothic novels), for the intensifying of the domain's strange atmosphere, the “luminous and distinctly visible gaseous exhalation” which precedes the storm (291). “‘These appearances, which bewilder you, are merely electrical phenomena not uncommon—or it may be that they have their ghastly origin in the rank miasma of the tarn’” (292). The narrator offers these explanations in an attempt to calm Roderick; it is doubtful that this man of common sense believes his account himself. The fact that the narrator offers two explanations, electricity and swamp gas, suggests that no convincing explanation is available.

Roderick's proffered explanation is more esoteric, is indeed to the narrator heretical. Roderick believes that the House, in condensing an atmosphere of its own, has infected the family and himself; he believes in “an influence which some peculiarities in the mere form and substance of his family mansion, had, by dint of long sufferance … obtained over his spirit—an effect which the physique of the gray walls and turrets, and of the dim tarn into which they all looked down, had, at length, brought about upon the morale of his existence” (281). He believes in the sentience of his estate, originating in the particular and undisturbed “collocation” or “arrangement” of its parts (286). For Roderick there are no differences between people, plants, stones—everything is matter becoming mind, or at least, everything at the House of Usher is approaching the same state. Roderick is being weighed down by his environment, indeed, is being transformed into its image. Roderick's environmental determinism is a unique version of a natural explanation.¹⁰ But again the proffered explanation is not conclusive, as Roderick finds evidence of the cause chiefly in its effects. Further, though Roderick feels that he is being molded by his environment, that environment is not precisely natural, for the domain itself—the castle and its landscaping—is (or was) a cultural product, the product of human activity upon nature.

Even the narrator, before he meets Roderick, senses or—he hopes—merely imagines that the House and domain have their own peculiar and affecting atmosphere. His recourse to a sort of corpuscular theory from the physical sciences—that there must be “combinations of very simple natural objects which have the power of thus affecting us” (274)—resembles Roderick's discussion of “peculiarities in the mere form and substance of his family mansion.” The frequent uses of “simple” and “mere” in the narrator's opening descriptions and echoed in Roderick's “mere form and substance” point to the physical, empirical realm without transcendence, aligning the narrator's descriptions with natural and not supernatural explanation. The narrator, for example, refers to the basic physical or natural components of the scene in his opening description: “the mere house, and the simple landscape features” (273). Nothing transcendent is figured forth by the “natural images,” indeed, they yield in the observer “an unredeemed dreariness of thought,” and the experience is like nothing so much as the end of visionary experience, “the bitter lapse into every-day life” (273). The narrator, who feels at the opening of the tale that he is trapped in a strange yet nontranscendental realm, is well matched by Roderick, the man of “distempered ideality,” one for whom, it seems, the realm of truth beyond sensible phenomena can be reached only through the heightening of sensation (282). However deformed, the natural persists for both the narrator and Roderick as a ground of experience and explanation.

As Poe's use of the vampire motif suggests without insisting on a supernatural cause for the terrors of the House of Usher, so his drawing on contemporary science suggests to the reader a natural cause, one related both to the narrator's impressions of the House and to Roderick's. At the beginning of the tale, the narrator describes his impression of “an atmosphere which had no affinity with the air of heaven, but which had reeked up from the decayed trees, and the gray wall, and the silent tarn—a pestilent and mystic vapour, dull, sluggish, faintly discernible, and leadenhued” (276); during the storm he emphasizes the gaseous exhalation of the domain and the rank miasma of the tarn. Usher too believes in the “certain condensation of an atmosphere of their own about the waters and the walls” (286), one related to the moribund state of the waters and the decay about the House. As I. M. Walker has documented, Poe draws on the technical meaning of atmosphere in this period, an envelope of minute corpuscles emitted from or surrounding a body; prominent doctors and psychologists held that miasma, or the atmosphere of decaying matter, caused physical and mental illness, and Roderick's “acute bodily illness” and oppressive “mental disorder” (274) very closely parallel those which some of the leading writers reported as stemming from a rank, noxious atmosphere.¹¹ The narrator's nervousness and terror may also result, at least in part, from this palpable atmosphere, as from its less physical duplication in Roderick. For Usher radiates gloom on “all objects of the moral and physical universe,” his distempered ideality throwing “a sulphureous lustre over all” (282). While Walker sees a noxious atmosphere as the natural or legitimate cause of Roderick's bodily illness and his terror, I do not think the tale closes on this as the sufficient cause of all that happens, for in the narrator's descriptions of Roderick's aura and in the narrator's sense of an atmosphere of gloom and sorrow at the House of Usher, Poe shifts subtly from the corporeal to the figurative sense of atmosphere. The narrator is impressed by the force of character and the spirit of place as well as by palpable decay, thus eliding a natural or legitimate source of terror with spiritual and psychological forces.

The multiple interpretations suggested in the tale for unusual impressions and appearances work together to make the Usher world resist ordinary interpretation. In affective terms, the tale, like the narrator's experience, “deepen[s] the first singular impression” for which the narrator can find no satisfactory explanation (276). The narrator reiterates his inability to account for such feelings, sensations, and impressions as he has at Usher. His references to superstition signify his doubts about the supernatural but also simply mark the difference of his current experience from his previous experience, which could be accounted for empirically, or which did not seem to require an explanation. Indeed, the action of the tale can be regarded as “ushering” the narrator into a new realm.

The House of Usher does have its own atmosphere; it is a closed-off space, a world unto itself. A world like our own but drained of the life principle, the green and gold of the happy valley in Roderick's poem. It is dominated by abstract patterns of black, white, and gray; and it is tending toward death, the ultimate abstraction, just as Roderick's art works express the abstract and ideal, having little or nothing of the real in them. It is a realm in which things appear doubled and therefore, in a sense, the same, resisting the multiplicity of the ordinary world.

Everything at the House of Usher expresses or reflects everything else, from the narrator's first impression of the scene, when his mental reflection anticipates physical reflection. He “reflected, that a mere different arrangement of the particulars of the scene” would produce a different sensation, but sees a “remodelled and inverted” reflection in the tarn (274). Critics of “Usher” have catalogued many sets of doubles; what is especially significant about them, as in the opening parallel of mental and physical reflection, is the way they conjoin the classic opposites of western thought—such as spirit and matter, inner and outer, self and other, male and female, subject and object—and blur the distinction between them. Thus, for example, the “quaint and equivocal appellation of the ‘House of Usher,’” the narrator tells us, refers to both the family and the family mansion (275). Family and mansion (or spirit and matter, human and nonhuman) have over the course of centuries exercised a profound influence on each other. The narrator remarks on the “perfect keeping of the character of the premises with the accredited character of the people” (275); in “character” we have both the sense of inner form and outward representation, and it is difficult to see which forms the other, as with so many cases of doubling in the tale.

As the House of Usher reflects the family of Usher, that other House of Usher, so it is mirrored in and mirrors Roderick's head or consciousness, that is, the human and spiritual remainder of the Usher family. In the many parallel descriptions of the House and Roderick's head or consciousness, classical opposites image and manifest each other. Thus Roderick's lyric, “The Haunted Palace,” impresses the narrator as the allegorical representation of Usher's madness (285). And since Roderick is affected by place (even the spirit of place), we can say that Roderick Usher's madness is the psychological representation of the decay of his world. The narrator's impression of the state of the House—the “wild inconsistency between its still perfect adaptation of parts, and the crumbling condition of the individual stones”—replicates itself in what he perceives as the “inconsistency” of his friend Roderick's manner (276, 279). As the House, Roderick believes, has departed from the ordinary state of matter, so Roderick's expression, to the narrator, has departed from the ordinary aspect of humanity. Roderick becomes that instrument which vibrates to each metaphorical touch and is scarcely distinguishable from the system of motion itself. Roderick's strange sensations gain expression in his music, poetry, and painting, which, in turn, re-present himself and his House, in a dizzying crossing of inner and outer, self and other, spirit and matter. Roderick's sensitivity is matched by what he believes to be the sentience of his estate, and thus the motions of matter and those of thought are virtually identified.

In the doubling of Madeline and Roderick—pale, thin, ill, with similar family features—there is also a confounding of oppositions. Roderick appears at first as the actor, in control of the paternal household, and Madeline as the sufferer, but when Madeline re-emerges from the tomb, she is the embodiment of will, while Roderick becomes pure sentience. And the roles of male and female reverse, Madeline taking the part of the willful, conquering male hero of the “Mad Trist,” while Roderick enacts the traditional role of ravished maiden. Madeline comes to represent life-in-death; Roderick, death-in-life. The oppositions of self and other, male and female, life and death are in a sense cancelled through this inversion of oppositions, prefiguring the erasure of the line between Roderick and Madeline in their final union.

Further, the pervasive language of effect, affect, infection, and influence in the tale conjoins ordinarily distinct entities and makes them similar. This language and the many sets of doubles—one thing forming or conforming to another—convert the empirical notion of discrete cause and effect, virtually making the Usher world into that perfect plot of the monistic universe of Poe's Eureka, a plot in which everything is simultaneously cause and effect of everything else.

This perfect adaptation of the parts of the Usher world is made absolute in the ending of the tale, in which Poe presses towards a final solution to the gothic puzzle of appearances. As all things at Usher form and conform to all other things, the cause of unusual impressions and appearances cannot be definitively located in consciousness, nature, or the supernatural. Just as all the parts of the Usher world mirror each other, so all the explanations—psychological, natural, supernatural—which Poe subtly intimates for the puzzle of what happens at the House of Usher merge into a radical resolution to the puzzle of appearances. In the Lockean schema, appearances are meant to be the connection between subject and object, and sensation is the vehicle of appearances, but since appearances are only representations (which do not necessarily correspond to objects), they can also be seen as the boundary or wall between subject and object. Poe sees the possibility of contact between mind and whatever is external to it in the unstringing of Roderick's sensations and in the dissolution of the boundary of appearance. Hence Roderick and Madeline perish together in an embrace, and the split line of Usher falls with the fractured House into the abyss, the whole described in terms of apocalypse; the dissolving consciousness of Roderick and the decaying world of Usher are brought into complete union. Thus the final solution to the puzzle of appearances is to destroy the appearances, if only temporarily, for like the periodic universe of Eureka, the House of Usher springs back into life—in the consciousness of the narrator, and through him, in the consciousness of the reader.

Notes

1. The metaphysical assumptions underlying the Essay, which Locke did not very clearly recognize as assumptions, were the basic principles of the new quantitative science, roughly the antithesis of the qualitative principles of medieval natural philosophy. Locke accepted the premise of the new science that nature is regular and that its laws can be discovered through experiment and measuring. He adopted the contemporary corpuscular theory of matter and explained perception as a mechanical process (though too fine to measure), a chain of reactions caused by small bits of matter coming in contact with sensible organs of the human body, the impulse being transmitted by the nerves to the brain. John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, ed. Alexander Campbell Fraser (rpt. New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1959); see especially II, i-vii. According to the corpuscular theory, objects and the sensations they cause are not the same, “it being one thing to perceive and know the idea of white or black, and quite another to examine what kind of particles they must be, and how ranged in the superficies, to make any object appear white or black” (II, iv, 2). Or, as Locke also remarks, “to speak truly, yellowness is not actually in gold, but is a power in gold to produce that idea in us by our eyes, when placed in a due light”; “minute particles,” which we cannot perceive, produce in us the sensation of yellow (II, xxiii, 10-11). While Locke drew a distinction between primary and secondary qualities, the first supposedly like the constitution of objects and the second, of which color is a type, existing only in the mind of the perceiver, both Berkeley and Hume collapsed Locke's distinction, reducing all qualities to the status of Locke's secondary ones.

   The skeptical implications of Locke's Essay, worked out clearly in Hume's Treatise of Human Nature (1739), were countered in Anglo-American academic philosophy of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries by the Scottish philosophy of common sense. It seems to me that Poe (who was never assimilated into academic respectability) was little influenced by the main claims of the philosophy of common sense. Alasdair MacIntyre argues in “The Invention of Common Sense” (unpublished paper) that this philosophy was a powerful ideological tool in Scotland and in its imported version in the United States; perhaps one reason for its relative unimportance to Poe was that he was not of the class whose social view the philosophy of common sense promoted.

2. Though in the past several decades much important criticism of Romantic poetry has analyzed it as a response to the crisis in epistemology, gothic fiction is less often seen as having a similar philosophical substratum.

3. Typically in gothic fiction both the natural and the supernatural are construed as parts of the external world. While Locke in the Essay did not argue for sensation as the vehicle of knowledge of the divine, this was one of the implications of his epistemology, as shown most clearly in Burke's influential Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful (1754); see especially the section entitled “Power.”

4. In Poe's Fiction: Romantic Irony in the Gothic Tales (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1973), G. R. Thompson assesses the irony created in Poe's gothic tales by multiple frames of reference. While I agree with Thompson's general claim about “Usher,” that it suggests multiple interpretations for its events, my premise about gothic fiction, my account of multiple interpretations in “Usher,” and my conclusion about the conclusion of “Usher” differ in almost all points from Thompson's analysis. For Patrick F. Quinn and Thompson's debate over Thompson's reading of “Usher,” see Ruined Eden of the Present: Hawthorne, Melville, and Poe: Critical Essays in Honor of Darrel Abel, ed. Thompson and Virgil L. Lokke (West Lafayette: Purdue University Press, 1981), pp. 303-354.

5. Edgar Allan Poe, “The Fall of the House of Usher,” in The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe, ed. James A. Harrison, 17 vols. (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell & Company, 1902), III, 273. Subsequent references are to this volume.

6. It is worth noting the similarity between the narrator's conclusion about cause and Locke's assumptions about cause: see n. 1. A prime question of the new science, from the late seventeenth century on, was what could be known concerning the mechanism of corpuscular or sub-microscopic events; for Locke's position in the debates of the late seventeenth century, see R. M. Yost, Jr., “Locke's Rejection of Hypotheses about Sub-microscopic Events,” Journal of the History of Ideas, 12 (1951), 111-130. Locke's position, as Yost analyzes it, corresponds roughly to that of the narrator here, that we are not capable of knowing “the specific submicroscopic mechanisms that correspond to observable species” (123).

7. In Poe's early tale “Berenice,” the male narrator and his female cousin are similarly wasting away, but in this tale the vampire motif is more obvious, since the protagonist's obsessive fear is of his cousin's teeth.

8. J. O. Bailey, “What Happens in ‘The Fall of the House of Usher’?” American Literature, 35 (1964), 445-466.

9. Maurice Beebe, “The Universe of Roderick Usher,” in Ivory Towers and Sacred Founts: The Artist as Hero in Fiction from Goethe to Joyce (New York: New York University Press, 1964) is a comprehensive reading of the art theme of “Usher” in its relation to Poe's cosmology.

10. As Leo Spitzer reminds us in “A Reinterpretation of ‘The Fall of the House of Usher,’” Comparative Literature, 4 (1952), 351-363, environmental determinism was the important idea in social theory in the late 1830's. Contrasting Poe with Balzac, Spitzer writes, “It is a remarkable feature of his romantic realism that Poe can accept environmentalism [only] when it borders on irreality”—that is, abstraction (362).

11. I. M. Walker, “The ‘Legitimate’ Sources of Terror in ‘The Fall of the House of Usher,’” Modern Language Review, 61 (1966), 585-592.