Hannah Wells April 6, 2013
The Self-Executioner: Poe and the Fantastic
The age of Romanticism, roughly occurring in the
late 1700s through the 1800s, is characterized by a style unlike the one
before. The works of the era are set up distinctly against the over-rational,
contained and restricted mimetic forms of art from the Enlightenment. They often
feature the Romantic theme of the rise of individualism; a theme that presents
the individual who is separate from the masses and is often quite alone. For the
Romantics, imagination trumped perception and terror, the sublime and
supernatural, the gothic and horror all emerged in the art and literature of the
time. One genre, directly related to the rise of the imagination, and born out
of Romanticism is the fantastic. In fantastic works, the reader and characters
come to terms with the unknown or unseen. While it seems that German authors
(like Goethe and Hoffmann) have the run of the genre, America also produced some
great examples of the fantastic. Edgar Allan Poe’s “William Wilson,” and “The
Black Cat,” often considered great works in the horror genre, actually belong to
the fantastic.
For this discussion, I will
be basing my analysis of both the Poe stories off of Todorov’s book,
The Fantastic.
Todorov defines the fantastic as “the hesitation experienced by a person who
knows only the laws of nature, confronting a supernatural event” (25). The
fantastic occupies the uncertainty of two solutions: an imaginary option where
the laws of the world remain, or a real option where the laws of reality have
changed. If an answer to one of these solutions is chosen and the supernatural
event is explained, the story does not qualify as fantastic. A work in this
genre follows a formula consisting of the reader’s hesitation and doubt, an
identifiable character or narrator, the presence of foreshadowing, attempted
rational explanations and more elements that all build towards the end or
“culminating point” (Todorov 87). These works fit nicely into a teaching unit
about Romanticism because they also feature an awe of nature, often through
sublime and gothic descriptions.
As Todorov notes, Poe’s “William Wilson” creates a
“hesitation on the part of the reader” as we struggle to decide if we are
dealing with a villainous character and his obsessive, perhaps supernatural,
double, or a mad man and his multiple personalities (72). While many critics
regard “William Wilson” as an allegory, Todorov was uncomfortable with this
label simply because of the hesitation created by Poe and the fact that the
double’s appearances seem both allegorical and “relevant on the literal level”
(72). To create the doubt that we the reader (and also Wilson himself)
experience, Poe characteristically sets a very gothic scene, gives us a first
person narrator who is rather unreliable, includes the sublime and foreshadowing
and leaves no real explanation. This last point is what separates “William
Wilson” from “The Fall of the House of Usher.” In “Usher,” Poe does provide
rational explanations for Madeline’s death-like sleep, as it is her habit to
fall in to, and the house’s destruction in the end, as the narrator noticed a
clear crack as he approached the walls. Therefore, although absolutely teeming
with fantastic qualities, “Usher” is not a fantastic tale.
On the other hand, “William Wilson,” because it
fits the mold, as mentioned above, can be analyzed as fantastic. Early in the
story, Poe begins to build an atmosphere in which we the reader are fully
capable of believing in the supernatural. In classic Poe fashion, the beginning
of the tale is set in a “large, rambling, Elizabethan house” (1), a “place of
enchantment” (3). The house is surrounded by “gigantic and gnarled trees” (Poe
1) and a “prison-like rampart” (Poe 2). A reader of Poe is fully prepared to
encounter a supernatural being in a place like this. Where better to encounter a
man who may be a psychotic stalker, or an embodied spirit? The gate, decorated
with “jagged iron spikes” (Poe 2), the “Gothic windows” and ceiling (Poe 3) all
inspire awe in the character and reader. The narrator touches the sublime when
describing the “spirit of wonder and perplexity” he felt towards the head master
(Poe 2). Further, the house where Wilson attended school had a maze-like quality
that the narrator never quite solved, and at the same time, found comforting. As
is common with the gothic, the labyrinthine quality of the house reflects the
complicated mind of the narrator who, as I will analyze later, is rather
twisted. At this point in the tale, the boy Wilson is “living with only his mind
to guide him” through the maze of life because he has overthrown his previous
authority figures (Davidson 199). Poe continues to include gothic descriptions
as the story progresses, especially in terms of light and dark. The reader, and
narrator, is unsure of the realness of a being that continues to show up when
“no light at all was admitted” (Poe 9). I will continue to discuss this gothic
theme of darkness later as it relates to the unreliable reporting of the
narrator.
The most convincing fantastic quality in “William
Wilson” is the unreliableness of the first person narrator. Wilson is “the
Romantic individualist for whom the world is nothing but the externalization of
the self” (Davidson 201). In fantastic tales, the represented narrator is
suitable because they themselves also doubt. Add to this the absolutely
undependable quality of William Wilson, which is not even his real name, and we
the reader truly doubt whether we are witnessing a supernatural event or the
struggling of a man and his inner spirit. The story begins with a list of the
narrator’s self-professed, terrible qualities. Additionally, the tale, like many
other of the fantastic genre, begins at the end. This reversal of order allows
the reader to wonder if perhaps the narrator has forgotten something from the
past, another way to doubt. It also gels with what Todorov calls the
“syntactical aspect” of fantastic tales (87). All elements in the fantastic work
must build toward the end, which as we know in “William Wilson,” will lead to
the narrator’s current, near death state. To return to the unreliableness of the
narrator, he does not create much trust by giving himself a fake name at the
start. Further, Wilson calls himself “Weak-minded,” capable of “infirmities,”
“ungovernable passions” and “evil propensities” from the very beginning (Poe 1).
Importantly, Wilson also describes himself as descended from a family with a
most “imaginative and easily excitable temperament” which foreshadows his later
reactions to his double (Poe 1). Lastly, in the introduction Wilson wonders if
he has not actually “been living in a dream” (Poe 1). This is a very important
statement in terms of keeping the reader hesitating and maintaining the genre.
As the story continues, the
rather unreliable narrator describes the arrival of his double whose
similarities with Wilson are not even noticed by other boys due to “some
unaccountable blindness” (Poe 5). In fact, the narrator reveals that their
similarity had never been a “subject of comment, or even observed at all by our
schoolfellows” (Poe 6). If no one in the story sees what the narrator sees, the
reader begins to wonder if the double is a supernatural being or perhaps our
narrator is mad. It is also at this point that Wilson foreshadows the role that
his double will play in the future as the one who will run “interference with my
will” (Poe 7). After this revelation comes the most important event of the first
part of “William Wilson.” Here we find one of the most questionable scenes
because Poe does not offer an explanation for what the untrustworthy, young
narrator sees. William Wilson, in the dark of night, through a “wilderness of
narrow passages,” approaches the room of his comrade to play a trick on him (Poe
8). When he reaches the boy’s bed, Wilson experiences unspeakable horror and
cannot express what it is he sees before him. Wilson runs from the room, never
to return to his boyhood school. What did William Wilson see? The answer to that
question remains a mystery and leaves the reader to wonder if it was a monster,
a mirror, an empty bed, a zombie, any number of things. At this point, “William
Wilson” qualifies as a fantastic tale because we have followed an unreliable
narrator through half of a story and witnessed something that cannot be
explained. All that we know is “what is filtered through the subjective mind of
the narrator” (Thompson 170).
In the second half of the story, William Wilson has
aged and picked up a new set of habits that make him a narrator that we do not
trust. A college student now, Wilson has new “habits of vice” like “wine” and
other “more dangerous seductions,” most likely drugs (Poe 9). The addition of
alcohol and other substances clouds Wilson’s mind, causing him to doubt his
surroundings, and the reader hesitates to know what is real. The first time that
Wilson’s double appears in his adult life, the narrator is drinking and
reveling. When called out to meet a visitor, the narrator enters a “small room”
where “there hung no lamp” (Poe 9). The figure whispers the words “William
Wilson” into Wilson’s ear and causes him much distress. Because it was dark and
the narrator has made himself even less reliable, the reader wonders if an
actual meeting has occurred or Wilson has been confronted by his soul. Is it a
supernatural being stalking our narrator? We cannot be sure.
As the story winds towards its climax, Wilson the
narrator further provides us with reasons why he is not someone we cannot
necessarily trust. The hesitation required for a fantastic tale builds as the
narrator shakes off “the common restraints of decency in the mad infatuation of
my revels” (Poe 10). Wilson becomes an obsessive gambler and tricks less
talented players into losing fortunes to him. At the height of his degradation,
the narrator’s double appears again. Once more, the lights go out, the darkness
“was not total,” and the truth is revealed to the men whose money Wilson has
dishonestly won (Poe 11). This is the moment of ruin for William Wilson. Who
caused his ruin? We the reader are unsure, because we could not see, if a man, a
ghost, or Wilson himself spoke the words that caused his defeat. Disgraced, the
narrator flees his college and travels the world doing no good. At every turn,
Wilson is thwarted by his double, but never sees “the features of his face” (Poe
13). Worse, the narrator had now “given myself up entirely to wine and its
maddening influence” (Poe 13). Madness and alcoholism do not a reliable narrator
make. Before the final encounter, Wilson admits to indulging in
“excesses of the wine-table” and fighting his way through “mazes” of strangers
(Poe 13). While at a masquerade, Wilson finally captures his nemesis and
challenges him to a duel. The narrator quickly wins the duel and plunges his
sword “repeatedly through and through his bosom” (Poe 14). At this point, the
narrator turns his back on the victim to make sure the door is locked and when
he turns back he sees, so “it seemed to me in my confusion,” a large mirror that
may not have been there before (Poe 14). In this, he sees himself bleeding and
torn. Poe does not leave it at this, however. The narrator goes on to say that
he thought it was his reflection, but “it appeared, I say, but was not” actually
himself, but his double, whose face was “mine own” (Poe 14). Finally, before the
dying condemnation, Wilson admits that his double’s voice had changed and “I
could have fancied that I myself was speaking” (Poe 14). The reader is left with
no solid answer as to the identity of the double. Was he a real man who was
murdered and cursed Wilson with his dying breath, or did we witness a
supernatural event in which a man actually dueled with his spirit double and
lost? Poe himself considered “William Wilson” to be his “best
effort” and many critics have argued over the meaning of this tale (Neimeyer
212). Some feel content to leave it as a straight allegory, which, as was
mentioned earlier, Todorov found wanting. Critics often point to the overall Poe
universe and its lack of normal, simple morality that might exist in the
non-nightmare world of Poe’s imagining. “William Wilson” is not an allegory
because the main character does not adhere to society’s morals and is not
punished by a societal entity in the end. At most, the narrator “willed his
crime, and he wills his retribution” (Davidson 189). The strength of the story
and the reason it can be classified as fantastic is the ambiguity of the double
and whether he “exists as a supernatural spirit or as a construct of the mind of
the narrator” (Thompson 169). This sort of split or doubling is consistent with
the Romantic tradition as artists often searched for answers beyond the secular,
beyond the idea of divine justice. In stories by Poe and Hoffmann (who Poe had
certainly read), characters come face to face with the self in order to be
judged. A tale belongs in the fantastic if the face-to-face meeting is equally
viable as real or unreal and we find no definitive answer in the end. The
only other Poe story that Todorov considers fantastic is “The Black Cat.” In one
critical essay on this Poe story, the author describes “The Black Cat” as “more
fantastic” than any story of E.T.A. Hoffmann’s (Forgues 48). Hoffmann, the
figurehead of the fantastic movement in Germany, wrote some of the strangest and
scariest stories I have read, but “The Black Cat” rivals them in darkness and
its ability to leave the reader in doubt as to the reality of the situation.
Unlike William Wilson, the story is not often labeled as allegory, but rather as
an “objectless fantasy of pure literary whim” (Forgues 48). Without the
overhanging shadow of an allegorical reading, the description of “The Black Cat”
as a fantastic tale is simpler. Similar to “William Wilson,” Poe’s “Black Cat”
has a first person narrator (whose story begins at the end) who is rather shaky,
it features possible supernatural events, gothic and sublime descriptions and
moments of foreshadowing. All of this leads us through a series of events that
we the reader cannot assign as either real or imaginary. Has the narrator gone
mad or are we dealing with a demon cat returned from the dead? “The Black Cat” begins with an appeal from the narrator in
which he asks that a “more calm, more logical” person find a way to explain his
story as an ordinary happening instead of the horrific “phantasm” that he
believes it to be (Poe 329). This introductory paragraph is full of details that
point us toward the fantastic. The narrator himself doubts the reality of his
experiences and very early sets the reader up to question the validity of the
story that follows. The reader’s doubt is “enforced by the narrator’s repeated
assertion that he cannot understand his own story” (Gargano 172). In his first
line, the narrator says, “I neither expect nor solicit belief” for the tale he
means to tell since his “very senses reject their own evidence” (Poe 329). This
story would fall out of the fantastic genre immediately if it were not for the
next few lines. These early lines suggest that the man’s tale is not to be
believed and therefore dismissed as a mere ghost story, but then he reveals that
“mad am I not—and very surely do I not dream,” but the events he will detail
“terrified…tortured…destroyed me” (Poe 329). The reader is now set up to wonder
if the following story is real or imaginary, and if this narrator is someone
worth believing. For Todorov, this introduction has “integrated” us into the
world of the character where we will have our own “ambiguous perception of
events” (33). After the introduction, the reader is presented with a
description of the narrator’s early disposition as a loving, tender animal lover
who is so “fond of animals” that his attitude is describes as a “peculiar of
character” (Poe 329). The unnamed narrator marries early and his wife is also a
pet lover. When Poe introduces us to the wife, he also, as is common and vital
to the fantastic, foreshadows upcoming events. The narrator’s wife is
superstitious and often mentions the “ancient popular notion, which regarded all
black cats as witches in disguise” (Poe 330). In Todorov’s book, he describes
the characteristic structure found in a fantastic tale, which includes what he
calls “the utterance” (82). The utterance, which often turns out to be
foreshadowing, occurs in a fantastic tale often in the guise of a figurative or
idiomatic expression, like a superstitious saying. In this case, the common
belief that a black cat is evil may turn out to matter in the end. Also in the
first part, the narrator reveals that the cat’s name is Pluto. Here Poe used an
allusion to the Roman god of the underworld to foreshadow later events and
suggest that perhaps the cat is a supernatural being associated with death. The narrator of “The Black Cat” begins to lose some
credibility with readers as the story moves on. It is important to the fantastic
that the text remains uncertain and an unreliable narrator helps create the
required reader hesitation. Poe’s narrator who was an animal lover and seemed
stable loses his trustworthiness when he falls “through the instrumentality of
the Fiend Intemperance” and experiences “a radical alteration” (330). Once the
narrator admits to becoming a drunk, the reader must doubt the reality of what
he describes. Not only do we doubt the reasonableness of the narrator, we the
reader dislike him because he turns into an abuser of wife and animals. Here
begins the real fantastic tale; a turn occurs which Poe marks with the first of
several extremely gothic descriptions. A “much intoxicated” narrator returns
home to find the cat in his way. “Instantly possessed” by “the fury of a demon,”
the narrator pulls a knife, seizes the cat and “deliberately cut one of its eyes
from the socket” (Poe 330). Now, with the addition of this terrible, dark
description, Poe has thrown the reader into an atmosphere where the supernatural
might occur. Likewise, the narrator is no longer trustworthy as he has lost
himself in “gin-nurtured,” “fiendish malevolence” (Poe 330). The next horrific
step taken by the narrator is a necessary building block in this tale because it
sets up the later reappearance of the cat, which will cause the reader to
hesitate between the supernatural and mad reality. After the cat’s eye healed,
the narrator coolly “slipped a noose about its neck and hung it to the limb of a
tree” (Poe 331). This gothic moment calls to mind the torture of Isabella
Linton’s dog by Heathcliff in another, most gothic story. Unfortunately for
Poe’s narrator, the cat dies and his life unravels from here.
At this point, we reach what Todorov calls the point of
“imaginary causality.” One constant of the fantastic genre is the “existence of
beings more powerful than men” that are held responsible for events in a story
(110). The night after murdering the cat, the narrator’s home and all of his
possessions burn to the ground. Although the narrator does not try to connect
the events, the “disaster and the atrocity,” he admits that the link may be
possible (Poe 331). If the reader is led to believe that events in a tale are
caused by a supernatural being and not the “intervention of chance,” then the
reader is found to be hesitating in a place where “the laws of this same
familiar world” do not apply (Todorov 25, 110). What caused the narrator’s home
to burn? The words “luck or chance are excluded” from this part of the story and
Poe sets us to hesitating between reality and imagination (Todorov 110). The
image left behind on the charred walls is the real clue that leads us to this
imaginary causality. The “figure of a gigantic cat” with “a rope about” its neck
is “graven in bas relief” on the narrator’s bedroom wall, which amazingly still
stands (Poe 332). On beholding this vision, the narrator falls into a sublime
moment in which his “wonder” and “terror were extreme” (Poe 332). Next, as is
very common in fantastic tales, the narrator attempts to rationally explain this
strange happening. He asserts that the cat’s body was most likely thrown into
his bedroom window to alert him of the fire and was subsequently “compressed”
into the “freshly-spread plaster” by the falling walls and heat of the fire (Poe
332). The narrator is eager to present any kind of explanation that will
“eliminate the onus of responsibility and guilt” (Gargano 176). While the
narrator, whose character has been found wanting, presents this outlandish
explanation, any reader of Poe is leaning towards the supernatural. This point
of hesitation is spot on for the fantastic. While the narrator, who does not admit to feeling guilt,
falls deeper into drunkenness and his “vile haunts,” Poe returns us to the story
of “William Wilson” and doubles. Impelled by a “half-sentiment” to find a new
pet, the narrator perceives a large, black cat sitting on a keg at the bar where
he is drinking (Poe 332). One must question the believability of this moment as
again, we find the narrator partaking “in a den of more than infamy,” which
sounds suspiciously like an opium den (Poe 332). The unnamed narrator approaches
and befriends a cat “closely resembling” Pluto in every way (including the lack
of one eye) but one; the new cat has an “indefinite splotch of white” on his
chest” (Poe 332). Here, like in “William Wilson,” the reader is presented with
an apparent double whose purpose and existence is possibly supernatural. This
possibility is furthered as the new cat clearly haunts the narrator. The
speaker’s hatred of the cat grows every day, but the animal’s “partiality” for
the man grows and he follows the narrator at all times (Poe 333). The narrator
begins to feel an “absolute dread” of the new cat and the reader wonders if this
fear is only in the man’s mind, or if the cat is perhaps a demon returned from
the dead. Importantly, at this time the narrator reveals that he is in jail and
his tale is being told from a “felon’s cell” (Poe 333). This detail further
harms the credibility of the narrator and foreshadows the following awful
incident. Related to this, the new cat’s splotch has shaped itself into an image
of “the gallows” (Poe 334). Is this image only in the mind of a guilt-ridden
madman, or can we believe that a ghostly cat is torturing the narrator? The final blow for the narrator comes in most dramatic and
gothic fashion. In this ending the reader will find evidence for both a rational
and supernatural explanation and therefore the story remains in the genre of the
fantastic. On descending into the basement with his wife, the narrator is
tripped by the cat and flies into “madness.” He tries to murder the cat with an
axe, but instead turns his “rage more than demoniacal” on to his interfering
wife and “buried the axe in her brain” (Poe 334). This horrible moment, in my
opinion one of Poe’s darkest, is followed by the narrator’s frank description of
deciding what to do with the body. He runs through the idea of cutting the body
into “minute fragments” or digging a grave in the cellar, but settles on walling
his wife’s body in the cellar (a practice seen again in “The Cask of
Amontillado”). After completing this task, the narrator rests easy for several
days because the cat has also disappeared, apparently run off in fear. No guilt
is wasted on the death of his wife since the speaker is supremely relieved to be
rid of the cat. In a final display of moral loss, the narrator taunts police
officers that are searching his home and taps his cane on the very wall that
holds his wife’s body. A “long, loud and continuous scream, utterly anomalous
and inhuman…such as might have arisen only out of hell” erupts from the wall and
causes the discovery of the corpse and cat (Poe 336). Was the cat truly the
“Arch-Fiend,” “the monster” returned from the dead to exact revenge on the
narrator? Or had the mad, drug-crazed speaker committed murder and unknowingly
also buried a cat? Poe does not provide us with an answer, which is why critics
like Todorov claim “The Black Cat” as a fantastic tale. Other criticism of “The Black Cat” centers on the tale as one
of a set of Poe’s that do not quite reach allegorical meaning, but feature the
theme that punishment “comes from some inner compulsion of the evil-doer
himself…what Poe otherwise terms ‘perversity’” (Davidson 189). “The Tell-Tale
Heart,” “William Wilson” and “The Black Cat” all concern characters who
knowingly abandon common morals and find themselves greatly divided within. As a
Romantic author, Poe featured the idea that if divine justice is gone, then in
instances like this, guilt leads to self-punishment. The narrator in “The Black
Cat” stands apart from these others in that he “not only acknowledges his
criminality but accepts this ‘spirit of perverseness’ as the instrument of ‘my
final irrevocable overthrow’” (Reilly 94). I find this assessment particularly
helpful in terms of the unreliableness of the speaker in this tale. The reader
is instructed to disbelieve from the beginning and is presented with many
reasons to doubt the word of a fractured man who deliberately throws away his
morality. When confronted with what appears to be the supernatural, the reader
of “The Black Cat” hesitates to assign the narrator’s experience as either real
or unreal, and we are left with the fantastic. In terms of teaching, analyzing Poe’s stories as examples of
the fantastic is immensely valuable. Romanticism units, while popular, can be
much more effective with the addition of Poe. Students adore Poe partly because
they feel accomplished if they understand his language and partly because he is
shocking. Poe is taught heavily in the junior high schools, but he is analyzed
strictly in terms of his biography and how it affected his work. One of the best
ways to teach analysis of literature, in my opinion, is through genre and era
studies. If students have a checklist that they can consult during reading, they
will understand a piece more thoroughly. For example, the characteristics of
Romanticism like awe of nature, individualism, the presence of a quest and
emotional, rather than logical feelings can all exist on a checklist for
students to work through as they read. In fact, the tenets of Romanticism can be
found in a neat chart that goes with each story or poem and can literally be
checked off! To this end, students, who love the dark side of literature anyway,
could be introduced to the fantastic and look for the corresponding
characteristics in assigned works. By teaching students how to analyze by genre
or era, we automatically give them a way to discuss a work in a deeper sense
than, “well, I like Poe because he was a drunk and people die in his stories.” Works Cited Davidson, Edward H.
Poe: A Critical Study. Cambridge: The
Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1957. Print. Forgues, E.D. “The Tales of Edgar A.
Poe.” Critical Essays on Edgar Allan Poe.
Ed. Eric W. Carlson. Boston: G.K. Hall & Co.,1987. Print. Gargano, James W. “The Black Cat:
Perverseness Reconsidered.”
Texas Studies in Literature and Language
, Vol. 2, No. 2 (Summer 1960), pp. 172-178. Online.
Neimeyer, Mark. “Poe and Popular Culture.”
Cambridge Companion to Edgar Allan Poe.
Ed.
Kevin J. Hayes. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002, pp.205-224. Online.
Poe, Edgar Allan. “The Black Cat.”
Tales of Mystery and Imagination: Edgar
Allan Poe. New York: Fall River Press, 2009, pp. 329-336. Print. Poe, Edgar Allan. “William Wilson.”
Online Texts for Craig White’s Literature Courses.
http://coursesite.uhcl.edu/HSH/Whitec/texts/AmClassics/RomFiction/Poe/poewmwil.htm.
6 April 2013. Reilly, John E. “ A Source for the
Immuration in ‘The Black Cat.’”
Nineteenth-Century Literature
, Vol. 48, No. 1 (Jun., 1993), pp. 93-95 . Online. Thompson, G. R.
Poe’s Fiction: Romantic Irony in the
Gothic Tales. Madison: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1973. Print.
Todorov, Tzvetan.
The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to a
Literary Genre. New York: Cornell Paperbacks, 1995. Print.
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