He wonders where his spirit will end up after he is killed.Elisabeth Becker went all the way from Wisconsin to Philadelphia last July to introduce her two young children to America’s sacred text-not the Declaration of Independence, but Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven.” She walked the kids into one of the most important shrines of the Poe cult, a dark and dreary hallway in the Central Library, and sat them in front of a glass case holding Grip, the raven believed to have inspired Poe’s great poem, published in 1845. Nevertheless, he still fights the growing urge to confess to the point where he collapses-or, as he puts it, “some invisible fiend, I thought, struck me with his broad palm upon the back.” He confesses to the deed, though he doesn’t remember doing so.īack in the story’s present, the narrator now waits in a prison cell for his inevitable execution (he is to be hanged the next day). As he begins to run faster, his flight attracts attention, and a crowd begins to pursue him. In an effort to shake the thought, he takes off running in the street. The narrator keeps his troubling thoughts at bay for a time by periodically repeating the phrase, “I am safe.” Eventually, though, he changes the wording of the phrase: “I am safe-I am safe-yes-if I be not fool enough to make open confession!” Once this thought enters his mind, the narrator finds that he cannot get rid of it. Eventually, however, he grows preoccupied by a fear of discovery. I knew, too, that his apartment was narrow and ill-ventilated.” The ruse works, and the victim is declared dead by an act of God.įor many years, the narrator enjoys his inheritance and the life it affords. He finally hits upon the notion of using a poisoned candle in the victim’s room, since “I knew my victim’s habit of reading in bed.

The narrator goes on to reveal that he plotted murder “for many weeks and months” in order to gain a large inheritance from his victim. The narrator also blames the Imp for his current circumstances: he is in a prison cell, condemned to be executed for murder. The narrator refers to this impulse as “ the Imp of the Perverse.” The sensation of standing at the edge of a cliff and feeling the need to jump, for instance, comes from the Imp. Some such impulses, the narrator maintains, are actively harmful-they drive a person to “perversely” do what they know they shouldn’t do. Phrenology assumes human impulses to be beneficial and sent by God (the periodic need to eat, for instance), but the narrator insists that darker impulses exist that can even override the need for self-preservation. He denounces various methods of evaluating human psychology, such as phrenology, because they do not adequately deal with the concept of a certain impulse. The “Imp of the Perverse” begins with a meditation on the narrator’s peculiar philosophy.

Edgar allan poe imp of the perverse