THE CASK OF
AMONTILLADO
-E.A.
Poe
Edgar Allan Poe,
an American short-story writer, essayist, and poet, published “The Cask of
Amontillado” in 1846. It was his last, and some say greatest, short story.
It’s a tale of revenge, murder, torture, and addiction set in a vast
underground Italian catacomb (underground cemetery). It’s also a journey into
the dark and mysterious recesses of the human psyche.
“The Cask of
Amontillado” has a frightening fixation on death, corpses, and bones. Edgar
Allan Poe’s last short story, written only a few years before his death, is a
precise and compact expression of anxieties concerning mortality. But don’t
worry – Poe injects plenty of humor into all the doom and gloom. And in the
end, we all feel a little happier to be alive. The story amplifies human
foolishness and folly to extremes so hideous and cruel they become vices. ”The
Cask” only has two characters. By the end of the story, their combined
silliness culminates in tragedy and pain for them both. The tragedy is what
makes us think more profoundly about their foolish ways – in the hopes that we
can avoid ending up, even in some metaphorical way, like them.
The plot is quite
simple. The first-person narrator, whom we later discover to be named
Montresor, announces immediately that someone named Fortunato has injured him
repeatedly and has recently insulted him. Montresor can stand no more; he vows
revenge upon Fortunato. The remainder of the story deals with Montresor's
methods of entrapping Fortunato and affecting his revenge upon the unfortunate
Fortunato. Foremost is the fact that Montresor has never let Fortunato know of
his hatred. Accordingly, one evening during carnival time, a time when much
frivolity and celebration would be taking place, Montresor set his fiendish,
mad plan into motion with full confidence that he would never be discovered. In
fact, at the end of the story, we, the readers, are certain that his atrocity
will never be discovered.
Knowing that
Fortunato considered himself a great expert, or connoisseur, of fine wines, and
especially a devotee of a sherry known as Amontillado, Montresor flattered him
by obsequiously asking his opinion on a newly acquired cask of Amontillado. He
tantalized Fortunato with the rare liquor, even pretending that his vaults
where the wine was stored had too much dampness and "niter" for
Fortunato's affection. However, Fortunato was determined to taste the wine and
insisted on being taken to Montresor's home. Montresor complied while wrapping
himself in a cloak to make sure that he would not be recognized. Earlier, he
had let all of the servants off for the night, using the excuse of the
carnival; in this way he would avoid arousing Fortunato's suspicions and would
also prevent anyone from witnessing the atrocity he planned to commit.
Apparently, Montresor had been planning this revenge for a long time and,
ironically, had chosen carnival time as the setting for this most horrible type
of crime. Amid the gaiety of the carnival, he was sure he would avoid any possibility
of being detected.
As they descended
into the vaults, Fortunato walked unsteadily and the "bells upon his cap
jingled" as they descended, creating a further carnival atmosphere or a
joyous time, a time which will ironically end soon with the living death of the
unfortunate Fortunato.
As they passed
deeper into the vaults, the niter caused Fortunato to cough constantly, but he
was drunkenly determined to continue. At one point, however, Montresor paused
and offered Fortunato a bottle of Medoc wine to help ward off the cold and the
fumes of the niter. This seemingly kind act, of course, carries undertones of
the most vicious irony, since what appears to be an act of kindness is only an
act performed to keep the victim alive long enough to get him to the niche
where he will be buried alive.
Fortunato drank
the Medoc and once again became boisterous and once more "his bells
jingled." Fortunato toasted Montresor's buried ancestors, and Montresor
returned the toast to Fortunato's "long life." When Fortunato noted
how extensive the vaults were, Montresor told him that he heard that the
Montresor’s "were a great and numerous family." Then, in his
drunkenness, Fortunato says that he has forgotten what Montresor's coat of arms
looks like. This statement, at the time of the story's setting, would be yet
one more of the many blatant insults for which Montresor hates Fortunato. He
states that his family's coat of arms has on it "a huge human foot door
[foot of gold], in a field azure; the foot crushes a serpent rampant whose
fangs are imbedded in the heel" and that the family motto is "Nemo
me impune lacessit" (No one attacks me with impunity). Thus, both the
motto and the coat of arms imply that the entire Montresor family history is
filled with acts of revenge.
As the two men
proceeded further along the tunnels, the cold and the niter fumes increased,
and Fortunato asked for another drink. Montresor gave him a bottle of De Grave,
which Fortunato emptied and then tossed the bottle into the air with a certain
symbolic gesture. At this point, Fortunato was sure that Montresor didn't
understand the gesture because it belonged to the secret order of the masons —
an order that Fortunato was certain that Montresor couldn't belong to, thus
flinging Montresor another insult and, unknowingly, bringing himself closer to
his living death. Fortunato then showed him a sign of the masons — a trowel, which
he brought with him. This is, of course, a double irony since the trowel is not
only an instrument used by real masons (bricklayers, stone masons, etc.), but
it is one of the emblems of the Masonic Order, and in this case it will become
an instrument of Fortunato's death — shortly after he implies that Montresor is
not good enough to be a member of the Masonic Order. In only a few minutes, it
will be seen that Montresor is indeed a superb mason.
As they continued their journey, we discover that there are numerous
catacombs of long deceased relatives. Thus, they have progressed to the place
of the dead where Fortunato will spend the rest of his existence — ironically,
alongside the relatives of a man who hates him with an unbelievable intensity.
At one of the catacombs, Montresor led Fortunato into a small crypt, or niche,
which was "in depth about four feet, in width three, in height six or
seven. Montresor told Fortunato that the Amontillado was inside.
When Fortunato
stepped inside, he ran into the granite wall, and Montresor quickly locked him
to the wall with a chain. Fortunato was too drunk to even realize what was
going on, much less resist his imprisonment.
Very quickly, Montresor uncovered a "quantity of building stone and
mortar" and began to "wall up the entrance." With only the first
tier completed, Montresor heard deep moans from within, and by the time he had
laid the fourth tier, he "heard the furious vibrations of the chain."
Resuming his chore, he completed three more tiers. Suddenly there was "a
succession of loud and shrill screams" from inside the crypt and, at
first, Montresor was momentarily frightened and then he delighted in joining in
with the screams. Then there was silence.
By the time
Montresor had finished the last tier, with only one more stone to be put into
place, there came a long low laugh from within. Then Fortunato's voice called
upon Montresor to put an end to this joke. Finally, Fortunato pleaded "For
the love of God, Montresor," a request which Montresor mocked by
repeating the phrase. Then Montresor looked through the remaining opening with
his torch and could see nothing, but he did hear the jingling of Fortunato's
bells as he laid the last stone in place. For fifty years, he tells us, no one
has disturbed the peace of this place.
As noted in this
discussion, the story abounds in ironies. The name of the victim, Fortunato,
meaning "the fortunate one," is the first irony. Then, too, the
entire situation is ironic — that is, the most terrible and gruesome deeds are
executed in a carnival atmosphere of gaiety and happiness; Montresor is using
the atmosphere of celebration to disguise the horribly atrocious act of
entombing a man alive.
The reader
should, perhaps, at one point ask himself who is Montresor,
and, then since Montresor seems to be apparently addressing someone, the reader
should ask himself whom Montresor is talking to (or writing about) and why.
Since the deed was committed some fifty years ago, and at the time of the deed
Montresor could not have been a young person, he must now be very old. It could
be that he is talking to one of his descendants, or else making his last confession
to a priest. After all, from what we can glean from the story, Montresor, in
spite of the reputed insults of Fortunato, came from an ancient, perhaps noble
family, and he is also a person of considerable taste (in gems, in paintings,
in wines, and in other matters), and it is evident that he possesses
considerable intelligence, albeit a type of diabolical intelligence. In his
plan to entomb Fortunato in the Montresor catacombs, he was clever at the right
time; his planning was perfect. Remember that he anticipated letting the
servants off at a time that would not arouse suspicion since it was carnival
time; clearly, his entire plan of revenge was contrived with such perfection
that Montresor had to be an exceptionally gifted person. But then, again, the
question arises: How could a gifted person imagine insults of such magnitude so
as to cause him to affect such a horrible revenge?
Informing the entire story is the nature of an insult that could evoke
such a well-planned, diabolical scheme of revenge. If indeed there was an
insult of such magnitude, then is Fortunato unaware of it to such an extent
that he would accompany the person that he has insulted into such a dreadful
place? Or was he simply drunk with the carnival madness that was occurring
throughout the city? The reader, of course, is shocked by the diabolical
efficiency of the murderer, and also by the fact that Montresor has lived with
impunity, and also, ironically, his victim has rested in peace for fifty years.
The double and ironic viewpoint continues on every plane. When Montresor
met Fortunato, he smiled continually at Fortunato, who thought he saw a smile
of warmth and friendliness, when in reality; the smile was a satanic smile in
anticipation of Fortunato's entombment. Likewise, Montresor's first words to
him were "you are luckily met." The ironic reversal is true: Within a
short time, Fortunato will be entombed alive.
Likewise, when
Fortunato drinks a toast to the people buried in the catacombs, he little knows
that he is drinking a toast to his own impending death. The same is true when
Fortunato insults Montresor concerning the masons — both a secret, honorable
order which requires close scrutiny for a person to become a member and, of
course, an honorable trade, a tool of which Montresor will use for a most
dishonorable deed.
In general, this story fits well into Poe's dictum that everything in a
well-written story must contribute to a total effect. The
constant use of irony — the drinking of the wine to warm Fortunato so that he
can continue his journey to his death, the jingling of the bells announcing his
death, the carnival atmosphere versus the atrocities, the irony of Fortunato's
name, the irony of the coat of arms, the irony in the unintentional remarks (or
were they?) that Fortunato makes, saying that he doesn't remember what the
Montresor coat of arms is, and later when he sneers at the possibility that
Montresor could be a mason (and the irony connected with the type of mason
which Montresor actually becomes) — all of these and many more contribute to
the complete unity of this perfect short story.
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