A Black Cat Essay, Research Paper
United States Saturday Post (The Saturday Evening Post) on August 19, 1843, serves
as a reminder for all of us. The capacity for violence and horror lies within
each of us, no matter how docile and humane our dispositions might appear. – By
has a BA degree in English from Longwood College in Virginia, and teaches English
and Theatre Arts at Fuqua School in Farmville, Virginia. When Martha first began
Edgar Allan Poe that she became confused about what to teach her students. As
she began to research the author’s life and literature, Martha discovered that
a horrible injustice had occurred, and she became determined, like many others,
and the creation of her web site, Precisely Poe. Martha is proud and pleased to
Poe, the man and his literature. “For the most wild yet most homely narrative
I be to expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence. Yet,
mad am I not–and very surely do I not dream. But tomorrow I die, and today I
would unburden my soul. My immediate purpose is to place before the world…a
series of mere household events….[T]hese events have terrified–have tortured–have
nothing more than an ordinary succession of very natural causes and effects.”
Tomorrow the narrator will be executed for the brutal murder of his wife. As he
awaits his own death, he finds it necessary to record the events which seduced
him into murder and informed the police of his crime. From infancy, the narrator
had been noted for his “docility and humanity of… disposition.” His tenderness
of heart made him “…the jest of [his] companions. [He] was especially fond of
animals, and was indulged by [his] parents with a great variety of pets.” He married
at an early age, and like the narrator, his wife had a similar love for animals.
They had “birds, gold-fish, a fine dog, rabbits, a small monkey, and a cat. Pluto,
the cat, was “a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely black, and sagacious
to an astonishing degree.” As the narrator remembers Pluto, he also remembers
according to “some ancient popular notion.” He never really believed she was serious
about this point, and he is not quite sure why he remembers it now. Out of all
the pets, Pluto was his favorite. He “alone fed him, and he attended [him] wherever
he went about the house. It was even with great difficulty that [he] could prevent
[the cat] from following [him] through the streets.” Their friendship lasted for
several years until the man’s temperament began to change. He grew, “day by day,
more moody, more irritable, more regardless of the feelings of others.” He cursed
at his wife, and eventually he “offered her personal violence.” His pets began
to feel the change in his disposition–a change brought about by the “Fiend Intemperance
[lack of control in consuming alcohol].” “One night, returning home, much intoxicated…[he]
“inflicted a slight wound upon [his owner's] hand with his teeth. The fury of
a demon instantly possessed [the man].” He took a penknife from his waistcoat
pocket, “and deliberately cut one of its eyes from the socket!” When morning came,
the narrator saw what he had done to the poor creature on the previous night.
“The socket of the lost eye presented…a frightful appearance….” The narrator
of the deed.” “In the meantime, the cat slowly recovered. He went about the house
as usual, but as might be expected, fled in extreme terror at [the narrator's]
approach.” At first the man was somewhat grieved by the cat’s actions; however,
this feeling turned into irritation. “And then came, as if to [his] final and
irrevocable overthrow the spirit of PERVERSENESS. “One morning, in cold blood,
remorse of [his] heart;–hung it because he knew that [the cat] had loved [him],
and because [he] felt it had given [him] no reason of offence;–hung it because
[he] knew that in so doing [he] was committing a sin–a deadly sin that would
so jeopardize [his] immortal soul as to place it–if such a thing were possible–even
beyond the reach of the infinite mercy of the Most Merciful and Most Terrible
God.” “On the night of the day on which this most cruel deed was done, [the narrator]
was aroused from sleep by the cry of fire…. The whole house was blazing. It was
with great difficulty that [his] wife, a servant, and [himself], made [their]
escape….[His] entire worldly wealth was swallowed up, and [he] resigned himself
thenceforward to despair.” “On the day succeeding the fire, [he] visited the ruins.
The walls with one exception had fallen in. This exception was found in a compartment
wall…against which had rested the head of [his] bed…. About this wall a dense
crowd were collected, and many persons seemed to be examining a particular portion
and terror were extreme…. [Then he remembered that] the cat…had been hung
in a garden adjacent to the house. Upon the alarm of fire, this garden had been
immediately filled by the crowd–by someone of whom the animal must have been
the view of arousing [the narrator] from sleep. The falling of the other walls
had compressed the victim of [the man's cruel deed] into the substance of the
freshly-spread plaster; the lime…with the flames, and the ammonia from the carcass…[had
the gigantic image of the cat in the wall. It was during this time that he actually
began to regret the loss of his cat Pluto, and he began to look for a similar
drunken stupor], [his] attention was suddenly drawn to some black object, [sitting
on a large container] of gin or of rum….” He approached this object, and touched
as large as Pluto, and closely resembling him in every respect but one. Pluto
had not a white hair upon any portion of his body; but this cat had a large, although
indefinite splotch of white, covering nearly the whole region of the breast.”
The cat responded by purring loudly, and the narrator talked to the owner of the
tavern about purchasing the cat; however, “this person made no claim to it–knew
accompanied him home. “When it reached the house it domesticated itself at once,
and became immediately a great favorite with [his] wife. Much to the narrator’s
surprise, he “…soon found a dislike to [the cat] arising within [him].” As time
passed these feelings turned to hatred of the cat. He began to avoid it out of
a sense “of shame, and the remembrance of [his] former deed of cruelty…. What
added to [his] hatred of the beast, was the discovery, on the morning after [he]
This circumstance, however, only endeared it to [his] wife….” The more that
the narrator avoided the cat, the more it seemed to follow him. “Whenever [he]
sat, [the cat] would crouch beneath [his] chair, or spring upon [his] knees, covering
[his] feet and thus nearly throw [him] down. or fastening its long and sharp claws
in [his clothing], clamber, in this manner, to [his] breast.” The man longed to
it….” More than once his wife had called his attention to the splotch of white
on this cat’s chest “…which constituted the sole visible difference between
the strange beast and the one [he] had destroyed.” Slowly, over a period of time,
this indefinite splotch of white began to take the shape of an object that terrified
day, the cat would never leave the man’s side, and at night, he would wake up
“…from dreams of unutterable fear to find the hot breath of the thing upon [his]
off–incumbent eternally upon [his] heart! “Beneath the pressure of torments such
as these the feeble remnant of the good within [him] succumbed. Evil thoughts
of [his] usual temper increased to hatred of all things and of all mankind….”
“One day [his wife] accompanied [him], upon some household errand, into the cellar
of the old building which [their] poverty compelled [them] to inhabit. The cat
followed [the narrator] down the steep stairs, and, nearly throwing [him] headlong,
exasperated [him] to madness. Uplifting an axe, and forgetting in [his] wrath
the childish dread which had hitherto stayed [his] hand, [the narrator] aimed
a blow at the animal, which, of course, would have proved instantly fatal if it
had descended as [he] had wished. But this blow was arrested by the hand of [his]
wife. Goaded by the interference into a rage more than demoniacal, [the narrator]
passed through the man’s mind. He thought about cutting the corpse into small
the cellar floor; or possibly, he could cast the corpse into the well in the yard.
The narrator even thought about packing his wife’s body into a box as if it were
merchandise, and getting a porter to remove it from the house. Finally, after
much deliberation, the narrator knew that he had found the perfect solution. He
would “…wall [the body] up in the cellar, as the monks of the Middle Ages [were]
recorded to have walled up their victims.” The cellar was well-adapted for a purpose
such as this. “Its walls were loosely constructed, and had lately been plastered
throughout with a rough plaster, which the dampness of the atmosphere had prevented
from hardening. Moreover, in one of the walls was a projection, caused by a false
chimney, or fireplace, that had been filled up and made to resemble the rest of
this point, insert the corpse, and wall the whole up as before, so that no eye
could detect anything suspicious.” “By means of a crowbar [the narrator] easily
dislodged the bricks, and…carefully deposited the body against the inner wall….”
He then “…relaid the whole structure as it originally stood.” Afterwards, he
“…prepared a plaster which could not be distinguished from the old, and with
this [he] very carefully went over the new brick-work…. The wall did not present
mess with “the minutest care.” His next step was to look for the cat. The man
had “firmly resolved to put it to death.” However, the cat must have been frightened
by the man’s previous actions, and it was now nowhere to be found. “It did not
make its appearance during the night; and thus for one night, at least since its
introduction into the house, [the narrator] soundly and tranquilly slept; [yes],
slept even with the burden of murder upon [his] soul.” Three days passed, and
still there was no sight of the cat. A few inquiries had been made about the narrator’s
wife, but he had easily answered those. “Even a search had been instituted–but
of course nothing was to be discovered. Upon the fourth day…the police came,
very unexpectedly, into the house, and proceeded again to make rigorous investigation
of the premises…. They left no nook or corner unexplored….[F]or the third or
fourth time, they descended into the cellar…. The police were thoroughly satisfied
and prepared to depart. [The narrator] burned to say if but one word, by way of
triumph, and to render doubly sure their assurance of [his] guiltlessness.” “Gentlemen,”
[the narrator said], as the party ascended the steps, “I delight to have allayed
your suspicions. I wish you all health and a little more courtesy. By the bye,
gentlemen, this–this is a very well-constructed house…I may say an excellently
well-constructed house. These walls–are you going, gentlemen?–these walls are
solidly put together….” At this point, the narrator “…rapped heavily with
a cane which [he] held in [his] hand, upon that very portion of the brickwork
of [his] blows sunk into silence, than [he] was answered by a voice from within
the tomb!–by a cry, at first muffled and broken, like the sobbing of a child,
and then quickly swelling into one long, loud, and continuous scream…a howl–a
staggered to the opposite [side of the cellar].” The police began tearing down
the wall. There before all, stood “…the corpse, already greatly decayed and
clotted with gore…. Upon its head…sat the [cat], the hideous beast whose craft
had seduced [the man] into murder, and whose informing voice had consigned [him]
story begins, the narrator is in jail awaiting his execution, which will occur
on the following day, for the brutal murder of his wife. At that point, the rest
of the story is told in flashback, as the narrator pens “…the most wild, yet
homely narrative…[whose] events have terrified–have tortured–have destroyed
true focus lies upon the nameless narrator, who is known for his “…docility
and humanity of …disposition. His tenderness of heart…[made him] the jest
of [his] companions.” He was especially fond of animals, and he was pleased to
find a similar fondness for pets in his wife. They had many pets including “…birds,
gold fish, a fine dog, rabbits, a small monkey, and a cat.” The cat was a large,
beautiful animal who was entirely black. Pluto, as he was called, was the narrator’s
favorite pet. He alone fed him, and Pluto followed the narrator wherever he went.
Occasionally, his wife would refer to an old superstitious belief that “…all
black cats [were] witches in disguise. Not that she was ever serious upon this
point….” Point of View Poe writes this story from the perspective of the narrator,
a man whose “…temperament and character [are transformed] through the instrumentality
of the Fiend Intemperance [alcohol].” Telling the story from the first person
point of view (a perspective that Poe used quite frequently), intensifies the
case in both “The Tell-Tale Heart” and “The Cask of Amontillado”) to delve into
the inner workings of the dark side of the mind. Style and Interpretation “‘The
Black Cat’ is one of the most powerful of Poe’s stories, and the horror stops
begins to recount the occurrences that “…have terrified–have tortured–have
more logical, and far less excitable than [his] own,” will perceive “…nothing
more than an ordinary succession of very natural causes and effects.” As the narrator
begins to tell his story (flashback), the reader discovers that the man’s personality
had undergone a drastic transformation which he attributes to his abuse of alcohol
and the perverse side of his nature, which the alcohol seemed to evoke. The reader
also discovers (with the introduction of Pluto into the story) that the narrator
is superstitious, as he recounts that his wife made “…frequent allusion to the
ancient popular notion, [that] all black cats [are] witches in disguise.” Even
though the narrator denies this (much as the narrator in “The Tell-Tale Heart”
denies that he or she is insane), the reader becomes increasingly aware of his
notion to which the man’s wife refers) has it that Satan and witches assume the
form of black cats. For those who believe, they are symbols of bad luck, death,
sorcery, witchcraft, and the spirits of the dead. Appropriately, the narrator
and the ruler of the underworld (symbolism). As in other Poe stories ( “The Tell-Tale
Heart,” “The Pit and the Pendulum” and “The Gold Bug”), biting and mutilation
a slight wound upon [the] hand with his teeth.” After he is bitten by the cat,
the narrator cuts out its eye. Poe relates “eyes” and “teeth” in their single
capacity to take in or to incorporate objects. This dread of being consumed often
leads the narrator to destroy who or what he fears (Silverman 207). Poe’s pronounced
use of foreshadowing leads the reader from one event to the next (”one night,”
“one morning,” “on the night of the day,” etc.). Within the first few paragraphs
of the story, the narrator foreshadows that he will violently harm his wife (”At
length, I even offered her personal violence.”). However, are the events of the
story, as the narrator suggests, based upon “…an ordinary succession of very
natural causes and effect,” or are they indeed caused by the supernatural? By
using, three main events in this story (the apparition of the first cat upon the
burned wall, the appearance of the gallowslike pattern upon the chest of the second
case can be presented for both sides. While making a case for the logical as well
as the supernatural, one must remember the state of mind of the narrator. All
events are described for the reader by an alcoholic who has a distorted view of
reality. The narrator goes to great lengths to scientifically explain the apparition
of the cat in the wall; however, the chain of events that he re-creates in his
mind are so highly coincidental that an explanation relying on the supernatural
may be easier to accept. Once again, the reader wonders if the narrator’s perceptions
can be believed as he describes the gallowslike pattern upon the chest of the
markings of an adult cat surely would not change that much, unless maybe the pattern
was not part of the animal’s fur, but only a substance on its surface which, with
is the same eye of which Pluto was deprived. Are there really two cats in this
story, or did Pluto (possibly “a witch in disguise”) survive, and return for retribution.
Of all the incidents, the discovery of the cat (first or second) behind the cellar
wall is the easiest to believe. The cat was frightened by the man, and logically,
the cellar several times, and not one time did the cat make a sound. It was not
until the narrator rapped heavily with a cane upon the wall, that the cat responded.
Was it a series of natural causes and effects, or was it what the narrator described?
“Upon its head, with red extended mouth and solitary eye of fire, sat the hideous
beast whose craft had seduced me into murder, and whose informing voice had consigned
Cat” is Poe’s second psychological study of domestic violence and guilt (the first
being “The Tell-Tale Heart”); however, this story does not deal with premeditated
murder. The reader is told that the narrator appears to be a happily married man,
the “Fiend Intemperance” and “the spirit of perverseness.” Perverseness, he believes,
is “…one of the primitive impulses of the human heart.” “Who has not, a hundred
times, found himself committing a vile or a stupid action for no other reason
otherwise unjustifiable acts, such as killing the first cat or rapping with his
greatly decayed and clotted with gore.” We might argue that what the narrator
calls “perverseness” is actually conscience. Guilt about his alcoholism seems
to the narrator the “perverseness” which causes him to maim and kill the first
cat. Guilt about those actions indirectly leads to the murder of his wife who
had shown him the gallows on the second cat’s breast. The disclosure of the crime,
as in “The Tell-Tale Heart,” is caused by a warped sense of triumph and the conscience
of the murderer. What makes this story different from “The Tell-Tale Heart” is
that Poe has added a new element to aid in evoking the dark side of the narrator,
and that is the supernatural. Now the story has an added twist as the narrator
not “…an ordinary succession of very natural causes and effects.” [See Style
and Interpretation] Martha Womack Related Information Poe Perplex on the Black
- David Grantz
Levine, Stuart and Susan, editors. The Short Fiction
of Edgar Allan Poe: An Annotated Edition. Chicago: University of Illinois Press,
1990. Quinn, Arthur Hobson. Edgar Allan Poe: A Critical Biography. New York: D.
Appleton-Century Company, 1941. Silverman, Kenneth. Edgar A. Poe: Mournful and
Never-Ending Remembrance. New York: Harper Collins Publishers, 1991. The United
States in Literature: “All My Sons” Edition. Glenview, Illinois: Scott, Foresman
and Company, 1973.
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