Paranoia, Obsession and Mental Breakdown: Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven”

Stanza by stanza analysis and interpretation  of the poem

The Raven is a long narrative poem, definitely the most famous of the Gothic genre. Written by Edgar Allan Poe, who is traditionally considered the father of the American Gothic, the poem consists of 18 six-line stanzas which tell the story of a nameless character and his fearsome encounter with the bird of the title.

The poem is written in first person, and this allows the reader to understand what happens inside the mind of the protagonist as the story progresses.

Although usually this poem is said to contain supernatural elements, an in-depth analysis shows that those elements, if present at all, are not the main point of the narration. What The Raven really tells is a story of grief, mourning, loneliness, paranoia and obsession.

The purpose of this article is to analyse each stanza in order to underline and explain all the themes and features which have contributed to create this masterpiece of American literature

Analysis 

First stanza:

 

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

Only this and nothing more.”

 

The first stanza introduces the reader to the time and setting of the poem. It is late at night and the narrator is alone in his room, almost falling asleep while he reads a book.

At a certain point he hears a noise, as if someone were knocking on his door.

Since the very first line we notice that the poem is very musical and rhythmic. This is achieved through the use of internal rhyme, that is to say the presence of two rhyming words in the same line.

In general, this poem makes extensive use of repetitions. In this first stanza, it is interesting to notice that the repetition of the onomatopoeic words tapping and rapping echoes the sound of the mysterious knocking that the narrator is hearing. In poetry, sound devices usually act on a subconscious level. The casual reader may not even perceive them, and yet they can make us feel as if we were in the room with the protagonist.

 

Second stanza: 

 

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Nameless here for evermore.

 

Here we learn something crucial for the understanding of the whole poem. The narrator has lost someone he loved, a girl named Lenore. In this stanza, the choice of words points to the semantic field of death. Even in the description of the fireplace, the narrator uses words such as "dying ember" and "ghost", suggesting that death is a predominant thought in his mind. Lenore is openly described to be with angels, so the narrator seems to believe, or better, hope, in the afterlife.

The fact that the narrator is in mourning is a detail that we must keep into consideration, because this altered state of mind is the reading key of the events that will happen in the following stanzas.

 

Third stanza: 

 

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

This it is and nothing more.”

 

In this stanza the keyword is terrors. The narrator starts fantasizing about something which he still doesn’t openly mention. The only detail that the reader is allowed to know is that the narrator feels upset by these fantasies, to the point that his heart is beating faster. He is clearly frightened by the mysterious knocking, although he tries to calm down by repeating to himself that it must only be someone who has come to visit him.

Novelist Ann Radcliffe explained the emotional response caused by Gothic fiction in terms of terror and horror. According to her definition, terror is the feeling of anxiety and apprehension at the possibility that something frightening might happen, whereas horror is the shock and repulsion of actually seeing the frightening thing.

To explain the difference between the two feelings, critic D.Varma, in The Gothic Flame (1966), used this effective metaphor:

 

“The difference between terror and horror is that between terrible apprehension and painful realisation, between the smell of death and stumbling against a corpse.”

 

So, in this third stanza, the use of the word terror evokes an idea of impending danger, an anxious anticipation of something fearful which is about to happen.

 

Fourth stanza:

 

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

Darkness there and nothing more.

 

The narrator finally manages to overcome his anxiety and decides to open the door.

Here, the scene described is not so different than the one we might see in a contemporary horror film. The source of the mysterious knocking is still unknown, even though the reader is led to believe that it must be of supernatural origin. This scene has a double purpose: on the one hand it can be misleading for the reader, who thinks that the story is going towards a specific direction, i.e. that of a ghost story. On the other hand it provides an insight on the narrator’s mind. In the following stanza it will be clear that he almost hopes for a supernatural explanation to the mysterious episode.

 

Fifth stanza: 

 

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—

Merely this and nothing more.

 

The first two lines of this stanzas are marked by an extensive use of alliteration, i.e. a repetition of the same consonant at the beginning of close words. Alliteration was present also in the previous stanzas, but here in particular the repetition of the d-sound (deep, darkness, doubting, dreaming, dared, dream) seems to suggest the chattering of the narrator’s teeth as he trembles with fear.

He stops on the threshold, almost unable to believe that he can’t see anything unusual. Suddenly a voice seems to come from the darkness, the whispered name of his beloved Lenore. However, immediately after, the reader understands that it was the narrator himself who had uttered Lenore’s name, and the sound that comes from the darkness is just an echo of what he had said. This information is revealing of his state of mind: clearly he hasn’t accepted the departure of his beloved, to the point that he hopes that she might come back to him, even in the form of a ghost. However, there is no ghost in the corridor. Lenore hasn’t come back, and the narrator is left alone to face his grief.

 

Sixth stanza:

 

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

 

The narrator gets back into his room, where he keeps on hearing the mysterious knocking. Finally he realizes that it comes from the window. Once again, his heart starts beating faster, but he is decided to find out the source of the noise.

He takes courage by constantly repeating to himself that it must be something harmless.

The words “and nothing more” are frequently repeated at the end of these first stanzas, acting as a sort of refrain, similar to those of medieval ballads. The effect achieved is to suggest that the narrator is desperately clinging on to his own rationality and trying to find a logical explanation for the noise he’s hearing.

These first six stanzas show a progressive building of the tension which becomes almost unbearable, when finally, in the following stanza, something unexpected happens.

 

Seventh stanza:

 

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

 

In this stanza both the narrator and the reader find out the source of the mysterious noise. When the protagonist opens the window, a raven flies inside the room.

As soon as it appears, we are provided with a revealing detail. The raven doesn’t simply fly around the chamber, as any normal bird would do; instead, it perches upon a statue  representing a bust of the goddess Pallas, which the narrator keeps above the door.

Pallas Athena was the Greek goddess of wisdom and knowledge, so this scene takes on an allegorical meaning. The raven might be a symbol of the irrational and the mysterious, and when it perches on the narrator’s representation of wisdom and science it has metaphorically overpowered his rational thought. This interpretation is not really surprising if we consider the fact that Gothic literature was born as a reaction to the typical Enlightenment mindset, which praised rationality and scientific thought above anything else.

Actually, from this moment on, the story will become a descent into the narrator’s darkest fantasies and paranoid delusions.

 

Eighth stanza:

 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

At first the narrator doesn’t seem to be upset by the appearance of the raven, and he addresses it almost jokingly. However, the reference he makes to the “Night’s Plutonian shore” suggest that he has made a connection between the raven and the realm of the dead. Traditionally the raven is considered a bird of bad omen belonging to the so-called psychopomps (from the Greek word psychopompòs, literally meaning “guide of souls”), which were spirits whose function was to escort the newly deceased to the afterlife.

This stanza also marks a change in the refrain. In the final line the raven speaks, uttering only one word, “nevermore”. This word will return at the end of each of the remaining stanzas, becoming more and more ominous as the narrator fills it with sinister meanings.

 

Ninth stanza:

 

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as “Nevermore.”

 

Here the narrator, although surprised by hearing the bird speak, is still convinced that its presence is merely accidental, and that the word “nevermore” is just a random word that the raven has learned. There is nothing supernatural here, as ravens are actually capable of imitating the human voice in the same way that parrots do. The fact that throughout the whole poem the bird repeats only one word seems to support this interpretation. What matters here, though, is not whether the raven is a supernatural creature or not, but rather the effect that its appearance has on the narrator’s mind.

 

Tenth stanza:

 

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—

Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”

Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

 

In this stanza the narrator lingers over thoughts of self-pity while he tries to reassure himself that the raven’s nightly visit will end as soon as morning arrives. The sentence “Other friends have flown before” suggests that he has been abandoned by everyone and feels lonely, although no further detail is provided on what has happened before the beginning of the poem. The only thing we knew so far was that his beloved Lenore had died, but this line adds a little background information about the narrator’s condition.

The repetition of the f- and fl- sounds in another extensive example of alliteration (farther, feather, fluttered, flown) is used to reinforce the semantic field of flight, both that of the raven and that of the narrator’s friends who have left him alone.

The narrator’s considerations on his lonesome condition are expressed aloud, although in a very soft voice, and that’s exactly at this point that the raven speaks again, repeating that mysterious “Nevermore” as a sort of answer to what the narrator has just said.

 

Eleventh stanza: 

 

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

 

Once again, the narrator finds himself in front of an event which he isn’t totally able to explain. However, being a reasonable man, he tries again to find a logical explanation for the bird’s behaviour. His hypothesis is quite plausible, as he imagines that the raven has learned the word from its master, who was probably a very unhappy man who had lost all hopes for the future. It is unclear, though, whether the narrator is consciously drawing a comparison between himself and the raven’s master or if at this point he is still unaware of the fact that his destiny of despair and hopelessness will be very similar to the one that he’s describing.

 

Twelfth stanza:

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

 

Immediately after having found a totally plausible explanation for the word “Nevermore”, the narrator seems to decide that he’s not satisfied by it. It is as if he needed to find something else, something which can relate more to his present condition.

That’s why he sits in front of the raven and starts thinking, or better, he starts making assumptions which he does not share with the reader.

Here the keywords are “linking fancy unto fancy”, which is a pretty accurate description of how paranoia works. From a simple event as the encounter with a bird which is able to utter only one meaningless word, the narrator starts building a castle of fears, fantasies and imaginary connections, and all of them point to his worst fear. We still don’t know what it is, the vagueness of this part is similar to that found in the third stanza, in which there was a reference to “terrors never felt before”, and has the specific function of enhancing the sense of tension which, at this point, has reached its peak.

 

Thirteenth stanza:

 

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

 

Here, finally, all the pieces seem to fit into place, and the narrator makes the final connection. The sight of a small detail, the violet velvet lining of the armchair, reminds him once again of Lenore. We can guess that probably Lenore used to sit on that same armchair, and the narrator  all of a sudden realizes that she will never sit on it again.

This is the point of no return: it is as if before this moment the narrator hadn’t really understood that she was actually dead. This sudden revelation is underlined by the refrain, in which the narrator seems to have introjected the word “nevermore” heard from the raven.

 

Fourteenth stanza:

 

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

This stanza opens with a sort of hallucination of the narrator. He feels a change in the atmosphere, and smells some incense, which makes him think about a religious rituals. He imagines the presence of an angel, and once again addresses the raven, this time in a begging tone. What he wants is to be able to erase all his memories of Lenore, and asks for a powerful elixir to do so. That’s the “nepenthe” mentioned in the fourth and fifth line of the stanza. Nepenthe was the name of a potion which, according to Greek mythology, had the ability to ease the pain and give oblivion to the drinker.

Once again, though, the raven answers with its relentless “Nevermore”. What is worth noticing, here, is that the narrator, at this point, knows exactly that the only answer he will get from the raven will be that single word. He expects that answer, and doesn’t really need it, because in his mind he already knows that there will be no relief for his pain. His continuous questions to the raven, both in this stanza and in the following, are almost masochistic. It is as if he were purposefully asking specific questions to receive that particular answer. His hope and his mental sanity are already gone, and he almost seems to be basking in his own pain.

 

Fifteenth stanza:

 

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

The narrator continues his constant addressing to the raven, and in this stanza we can notice a slight change in the rhyme pattern, which can be symbolic of the protagonist’s state of mind. This stanza present a disruption in the internal rhyme, namely in the first and third line. These two lines juxtapose words which are assonant but not exactly rhyming (“evil - devil” and “undaunted - enchanted”), thus breaking the rhythmic balance, in the same way in which the narrator feels totally unbalanced and astray.

In the question that he makes to the raven there is another reference to an elixir which can help him forget Lenore. The balm of Gilead, mentioned in the Bible, was an ointment which was believed to have healing properties.

Here we can also find the passage between the “terrors” mentioned in the third stanza, that is to say the fearful anticipation of something yet unknown, and the “Horror”, that is to say the final realization of what the narrator didn’t even dare to mention before. Finally, here, the narrator must face his greatest fear, he must admit that Lenore is dead, that he won’t be able to forget her, and that he is condemned to live in grief and mourning for the rest of his life.

 

Sixteenth stanza:

 

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

Having realized that Lenore won’t come back and that he won’t forget her either, in a last desperate attempt the narrator asks the raven if he will be able to meet her again after his own death. What is interesting is that he doesn’t make a reference to Heaven, as we might expect. Instead, he mentions “Aidenn”, an alternative spelling for Eden, that is to say not the traditional Christian realm of the afterlife, but what is by definition the “Paradise lost”. Once again, this choice shows that deep inside he already knows that there is no hope, and the answer of the raven keeps on confirming that. It is left unclear whether the narrator won’t be able to meet her because he feels unworthy of God’s grace, or, worse, because he knows there is no such thing as life after death. In both cases, this perspective adds a further level to his despair.

 

Seventeenth stanza:

 

“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—

“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

 

The last attempt that the narrator makes is to convince the raven to go away and leave him in peace. Clearly, this is not possible, and the answer of the bird is more than expected, at this point, confirming what both the reader and the narrator already know: there is no way out of the nightmare of hopelessness.

 

Eighteenth stanza:

 

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted—nevermore!

 

The last stanza marks a change in time, which we can understand by the change of the verb tense. The whole poem was a recollection of something that had happened in the past (“Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December”), but here we understand that some time has passed. The verbs used here are in the present tense, meaning that the narrator’s agony is still going on. The very last line, instead, uses a future form (“Shall be lifted - nevermore”) which suggests that his condition will never end, in a sort of perpetual condition of grief and mourning. The famous image of the narrator “trapped” in the shadow cast by the raven on the floor is clearly symbolic. We can claim with a certain extent of certainty that the ominous bird was never actually there, that it was a symbol created by the narrator’s mind. In traditional interpretations of this poem, the raven has been described as a representation of death, mourning, loss, and grief. However, we might also add a further interpretation for the mysterious bird, in the light of the reading that has been given so far. Keeping in mind that the narrator, at the beginning of the poem, finds himself in an altered and unbalanced state of mind, we can say that it is as if he were on the edge of a mental breakdown, just a step away from insanity. From this point of view, the raven represents that one detail, that one word, that single moment which makes a person’s mental sanity shatter into pieces.