Kylie Hensley
ENGL 2110-007
Final Draft for “You Must Read This” Essay
2 December 2014
How to Not Get Away with Murder: A Psycho in Denial Lets the Cat Out of the Bag
An introduction and review of “The Tell-Tale Heart”
by Edgar Allan Poe (January 19, 1809-October 7, 1849)
First published in The Pioneer, a periodical, in January 1843
Short Story. Horror. Gothic.
Kylie Hensley is majoring in English at ETSU and has always been captivated by the unconventional works of
Edgar Allan Poe.
First Things First: Who is Edgar Allan Poe?
“My whole existence has been the merest romance, in the sense of the
most utter unworldliness.” –Edgar Allan Poe, 1848
Edgar Allan Poe was a nineteenth-century author of poems and short stories. Alongside
that, he was an editor, a journalist, and a literary critic. Shortly after his birth in 1809 in Boston,
Massachusetts, Poe’s father left, and his mother died soon after that. Poe was taken in but was
never officially adopted by John and Francis Allan, who lived in Richmond, Virginia. Upon
entering into young adulthood, Poe left his family over monetary disagreements with his adopted
father. Poe struggled throughout his life after this; after all, he attempted to make a living by
writing and writing alone, something that was almost unheard of in the early 1800s. Poe is now
considered brilliant and successful by many. Anyone who has read anything by Poe knows that
his tales are unlike any other, but he was, without a doubt, a literary pioneer for many more
reasons than one. What made Poe legendary before he died was the fact that he dauntlessly
crossed lines that no one else dared to touch. He brought the psychotic murderer to life and gave
him a voice, setting the bar high for horror forever.
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All About “The Tell-Tale Heart”
“The Tell-Tale Heart” is the revolting but indescribably gripping story of a pre-meditated
murder. The unnamed narrator begins with a disclaimer stating that he is most certainly not a
mad-man. He admits to being nervous, and to having heightened senses. He especially has sharp
hearing, as he claims to have heard “all the things in heaven and earth and many things in hell.”
The narrator then speaks of an old man, who the narrator lives with and does not particularly
hate. The narrator actually claims that to love the old man, and says that he has never been
wronged by him. The narrator essentially tells the reader that the old man is perfectly pleasant,
except for one obscure quality: he has a filmy blue eye that happens to utterly outrage the
narrator. (Side note: In “The Black Cat,” the narrator angrily cuts out his beloved cat’s eye with a
knife. What’s with Poe and eyeballs?) The narrator abhors the eye so much that he plans to
murder the old man. I suppose simply asking the old man to move out would be much too
rational.
So, like any other good murderer would do, the narrator slips his head into the old man’s
room every night for a week to watch him. Instead of sleeping, the narrator spends hours upon
hours staying still, with his head in the old man’s door, festering his hatred for the old man’s eye.
The narrator, almost in a proud type of tone, discloses that it took him a whole hour just to stick
the entirety of his head in the door without making a sound. Newsflash, narrator: maybe the eye
bothers you so much because you evidently don’t get enough sleep and you’re experiencing
mood swings. Go back to bed.
On the eighth night, the narrator finally commits to the abysmal deed. He stealthily and
excitedly—he “can scarcely contain (his) feelings of triumph”—creeps into the bedroom of the
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old man, ever-so-slightly causing a minute disturbance and consequently awakening the old man.
At this point, the narrator is describing, in great detail, the old man’s “groan of mortal terror” that
“arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe.” One would assume that the
narrator would bring a halt to his upcoming task, but that is, unfortunately for the old man, most
definitely not so. The narrator only gets more and more excited, as he stealthily opens his lantern
to shine it upon the dreadful, glassy blue “Evil Eye.” It’s almost as if the narrator needs that one,
last overwhelming surge of anger to push himself over the edge. It’s ironic that the narrator
would need any type of motivation at all; after all, he has dreamed endlessly of this moment,
right?
So the narrator attacks the old man, kills him, dismembers his body, and hides the parts in
the floor board. I find it curious that all the while, the narrator is claiming to be totally sane.
Clearly, the narrator is in a cavernous pit of denial. He even goes so far as to calls himself wise,
stealthy, cautious, cunning, and patient. As if the murderer is to be admired in some form or
fashion for his tactics! Not too long after the vicious murder, the police show up to the narrator’s
house after a neighbor heard the old man’s shriek and called the police, suspecting foul play. At
first, the narrator, proud of the clean and suave job he had done, invites the officers in and even
leads them to the old man’s bedroom. The police confirm that the narrator is, indeed, not guilty
of any foul play.
As the officers are sitting around afterward, talking about common things, the narrator is
overcome with apprehension and anxiety. While they are talking, the narrator hears a perpetual
“low, dull, quick sound.” The narrator claims that it grows louder, as the other men continue to
chat away without reverence to the noise. After being totally convinced that the officers actually
do hear the noise and they’re “making a mockery” of the narrator, he feels that he must scream
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or die. He shrieks out, “…dissemble no more! I admit the deed!—tear up the planks!—here,
here!—it is the beating of his hideous heart!” The story ends here abruptly. It is strange that the
narrator, who claims to be oh-so clever, would admit to a murder that he would not have been
convicted of otherwise. Perhaps the simple human-ness of the officers sparked a realization
concerning the sanctity of life, or maybe the narrator really is just a looney-toon (I’m leaning
towards the latter).
Reactions of the 1843 Audience vs. My Reaction
Some people in Poe’s time did not feel too giddy about “The Tell-Tale Heart.” Horace
Greeley from the “N.Y. Tribune” said this about “The Tell-Tale Heart”: “Mr. Poe contributes a
strong and skillful, but in our minds, over-strained and repulsive analysis of the feelings and
promptings of an insane homicide. The painting of the terror of the victim, while he sat upright
in his bed, feeling that death was near him, is most powerful and fearfully vivid.” (Fisher 33)
“The Tell-Tale Heart” was rejected by the first editor who read it, claiming that it was “too
loud.” (Lepore) In contrast, some readers found it to be fascinating. N.P. Willis stated, “Mr.
Poe’s contribution, ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’ is very wild and readable, and is the only thing (in the
number) which most people would read and remember.” (Fisher 30) It seems to me that people
in Poe’s time were either charmed by his stories or found his work distasteful. Either way, they
all seem to agree that Poe was both intense and potent with his writing. I find that to be true in
modern times, as well.
I think that “The Tell-Tale Heart” is a prime example of everything that Poe was:
horrifying yet mesmerizing, unfathomable yet humanly honest, and concise yet captivatingly
descriptive. “The Tell-Tale Heart” is my favorite short story by Poe, and has been since I read it
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about five years ago when I was 14. I still remember how I felt after reading it. While I was
understandably disturbed and perplexed, I was also in total awe. There’s just something about
Poe! He has a way of manipulating his readers to continue reading, albeit that they are entirely
repulsed all along the way. I know that I certainly still feel that way every time I read something
new by Poe, even though I know to expect it by now. It’s been said that Poe was “three-fifths
Romantic and two-fifths poor,” (Lepore) implying that his dearth led him to be so outrageous
and risky. I choose to take it at face-value: Poe was a brilliant, although sickening author and set
the standard for horror for many generations to come. Enjoy it or hate it!
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Bibliography
Fisher, Benjamin F. Poe in His Own Time. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 2010. Print.
Lepore, Jill. "The Humbug: Edgar Allan Poe and the Economy of Horror." The New Yorker
(2009). Web.