The black cat story online. The Black Cat by Edgar Allan Poe Book Report/Review Example 2022-10-22
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The Black Cat is a short story by Edgar Allan Poe that was first published in 1843. It is a tale of horror and mystery, and it is one of Poe's most famous works. The story is told from the perspective of an unnamed narrator who becomes increasingly erratic and violent as the tale progresses.
The story begins with the narrator explaining that he has always been an animal lover, and that he has owned many pets throughout his life. One of these pets is a black cat named Pluto, who the narrator describes as being particularly intelligent and affectionate. However, as the narrator becomes more and more consumed by alcoholism, he begins to resent Pluto and takes out his anger on the animal. He becomes increasingly abusive towards Pluto, eventually cutting out one of the cat's eyes and hanging it from a tree.
The narrator's behavior becomes even more disturbing as the story progresses. He becomes convinced that the cat is haunted and that it is attempting to revenge itself on him. He becomes paranoid and starts to see the cat everywhere he goes, even believing that it is following him around.
Eventually, the narrator's madness reaches a climax when he murders his wife and buries her body in the basement of their home. As he is doing this, he notices that the cat is watching him and becomes convinced that it knows what he has done. In a fit of rage, he grabs the cat and walls it up alive in the basement with his wife's corpse.
The story ends with the narrator being arrested for the murder of his wife and the discovery of the bodies in the basement. As he sits in his cell, he can hear the faint cries of the cat trying to escape. The story serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of alcoholism and the destructive power of the human ego. It is a classic example of Poe's ability to craft a horror story that is both eerie and thought-provoking.
The Black Cat
My pets, of course, were made to feel the change in my disposition. Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or a silly action, for no other reason than because he knows he should not? When he asked the police why she died, they told him that she had been strangled. It was this unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself—to offer violence to its own nature—to do wrong for the wrong's sake only—that urged me to continue and finally to consummate the injury I had inflicted upon the unoffending brute. I approached and saw, as if graven in bas relief upon the white surface, the figure of a gigantic cat. The wall did not present the slightest appearance of having been disturbed.
Once again I breathed as a freeman. . One remaining plaster wall featured the indent of the body of a cat, which was attributed to a neighbor throwing the cat inside the window to warn the sleepers of fire. After completing his task, he felt pleased with his work and the fact that the black cat had seemingly vanished. The whole house was blazing.
Poe did manage to write an ode to his lost love called, "Annabel Lee". A black cat story is about a man who was walking down the road when he saw a black cat sitting on a fence. . With these I spent most of my time, and never was so happy as when feeding and caressing them. . I grew, day by day, more moody, more irritable, more regardless of the feelings of others.
The Cat Sith, in Scottish folklore, haunts the Highlands and may actually be a witch in disguise. He carried an image of his mother throughout his life. At one period I thought of cutting the corpse into minute fragments, and destroying them by fire. In this instance, the narrator's cutting out one of the cat's eyes is equivalent to separating his own soul and demolishing half of it. The reader will remember that this mark, although large, had been originally very indefinite; but, by slow degrees — degrees nearly imperceptible, and which for a long time my Reason struggled to reject as fanciful — it had, at length, assumed a rigorous distinctness of outline.
He became verbally abusive to his wife and easily gets irritated when with friends. His favorite pet of theirs was a large black cat named Pluto, who was his favorite, bore the brunt of his rage. The narrator swung an ax to try to kill it, but when his wife stopped him, he killed her instead. This, then, was the very creature of which I was in search. And a brute beast — whose fellow I had contemptuously destroyed — a brute beast to work out for me — for me a man, fashioned in the image of the High God — so much of insufferable wo! His father, David Poe, Jr.
The Black Cat by Edgar Allan Poe Book Report/Review Example
The moodiness of my usual temper increased to hatred of all things and of all mankind; while, from the sudden, frequent, and ungovernable outbursts of a fury to which I now blindly abandoned myself, my uncomplaining wife, alas! The officers bade me accompany them in their search. I avoided the creature; a certain sense of shame, and the remembrance of my former deed of cruelty, preventing me from physically abusing it. With these I spent most of my time, and never was so happy as when feeding and caressing them. As for the original works Edgar Allen poe, I will put them in the e-platform because currently almost everyone has an Internet enabled phone or has access to the internet. The walls, with one exception, had fallen in. In the meantime the cat slowly recovered.
I looked upon my future felicity as secured. The falling of other walls had compressed the victim of my cruelty into the substance of the freshly-spread plaster; the lime of which, had then with the flames, and the ammonia from the carcass, accomplished the portraiture as I saw it. The corpse, already greatly decayed and clotted with gore, stood erect before the eyes of the spectators. It was now the representation of an object that I shudder to name — and for this, above all, I loathed, and dreaded, and would have rid myself of the monster had I dared — it was now, I say, the image of a hideous — of a ghastly thing — of the GALLOWS! He went about the house as usual, but, as might be expected, fled in extreme terror at my approach. I determined to wall it up in the cellar—as the monks of the middle ages are recorded to have walled up their victims.
In their consequences, these events have terrified — have tortured — have destroyed me. This dread was not exactly a dread of physical evil—and yet I should be at a loss how otherwise to define it. Have we not a perpetual inclination, in the teeth of our best judgment, to violate that which is Law , merely because we understand it to be such? I burned to say if but one word, by way of triumph, and to render doubly sure their assurance of my guiltlessness. I knew that I could not remove it from the house, either by day or by night, without the risk of being observed by the neighbours. The consonance is enhanced by Poe's manipulation of consonant pairs. Having procured mortar, sand, and hair, with every possible precaution, I prepared a plaster which could not be distinguished from the old, and with this I very carefully went over the new brick-work. This was just the reverse of what I had anticipated; but — I know not how or why it was — its evident fondness for myself rather disgusted and annoyed.
This latter was a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely black, and sagacious to an astonishing degree. I should behold it no more! I grew, day by day, more moody, more irritable, more regardless of the feelings of others. I made no doubt that I could readily displace the bricks at this point, insert the corpse, and wall the whole up as before, so that no eye could detect anything suspicious. This hideous murder accomplished, I set myself forthwith, and with entire deliberation, to the task of concealing the body. I continued my caresses, and, when I prepared to go home, the animal evinced a disposition to accompany me. Uplifting an axe, and forgetting, in my wrath, the childish dread which had hitherto stayed my hand, I aimed a blow at the animal which, of course, would have proved instantly fatal had it descended as I wished.
These events are conflicting because the subject has experienced the horror and fear firsthand, but has to determine whether or not to elucidate these instances to the world. I had so much of my old heart left, as to be, at first, grieved by this evident dislike on the part of a creature which had once so loved me. The officers bade me accompany them in their search. It was a black cat — a very large one — fully as large as Pluto, and closely resembling him in every respect but one. However, the narrator only mentions procuring hair, broadly speaking.
