The Oval Portrait Edgar Allan Poe

 Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) was an American writer,

poet, literary critic and editor. Poe is best known for

his poetry and short stories. He is widely regarded as a

central figure of Romanticism in the United States and

of the American literature as a whole. He is generally

considered the inventor of the detective fiction and

is further credited with contributing to the emerging

genre of science fiction. He is famous for his dark,

mysterious poems and stories, including The Raven,

The Black Cat, The Fall of the House of Usher, and

English: Grade 11 201

Heart. His tale The Murders in the Rue Morgue (1841) initiated the modern detective

story, and the atmosphere in his tales of horror is unrivaled in American fiction.

His The Raven (1845) is among the best-known poems in the national literature.

'The Oval Portrait' was first published as a longer version titled ‘Life in Death’

in Graham's Magazine in 1842. The shorter version, renamed ‘The Oval Portrait’

was published in the April 26, 1845 edition of the Broadway Journal. This is the story

of an artist who wants to make a painting of his young wife, but becomes so obsessed

with it that he doesn’t realize his wife is dying meanwhile. This is a short horror story

about the relationship between art and life, through the narrator’s encounter with the

oval portrait of a young woman in a chateau in the Appenines.

Reading

The chateau into which my valet had ventured to make forcible entrance, rather than

permit me, in my desperately wounded condition, to pass a night in the open air, was one

of those piles of commingled gloom and grandeur which have so long frowned among

the Appennines, not less in fact than in the fancy of Mrs. Radcliffe. To all appearance,

it had been temporarily and very lately abandoned. We established ourselves in one of

the smallest and least sumptuously furnished apartments. It lay in a remote turret of the

building. Its decorations were rich, yet tattered and antique. Its walls were hung with

tapestry and bedecked with manifold and multiform armorial trophies, together with

an unusually great number of very spirited modern paintings in frames of rich golden

arabesque. In these paintings, which depended from the walls not only in their main

surfaces, but in very many nooks which the bizarre architecture of the chateau rendered

necessary - in these paintings my incipient delirium, perhaps, had caused me to take

deep interest; so that I bade Pedro to close the heavy shutters of the room - since it was

already night - to light the tongues of a tall candelabrum which stood by the head of my

bed - and to throw open far and wide the fringed curtains of black velvet which enveloped

the bed itself. I wished all this done that I might resign myself, if not to sleep, at least

alternately to the contemplation of these pictures, and the perusal of a small volume which

had been found upon the pillow, and which purported to criticise and describe them.

Long - long I read - and devoutly, devotedly I gazed. Rapidly and gloriously the hours

flew by and the deep midnight came. The position of the candelabrum displeased

me, and outreaching my hand with difficulty, rather than disturb my

slumbering valet, I placed it so as to throw its rays more fully upon the book.

But the action produced an effect altogether unanticipated. The rays of the numerous

candles (for there were many) now fell within a niche of the room which had hitherto

202 English: Grade 11

been thrown into deep shade by one of the bed-posts. I thus saw in vivid light a picture

all unnoticed before. It was the portrait of a young girl just ripening into womanhood.

I glanced at the painting hurriedly, and then closed my eyes. Why I did this was not

at first apparent even to my own perception. But while my lids remained thus shut, I

ran over in my mind my reason for so shutting them. It was an impulsive movement

to gain time for thought - to make sure that my vision had not deceived me - to calm

and subdue my fancy for a more sober and more certain gaze. In a very few moments

I again looked fixedly at the painting.

That I now saw aright I could not and

would not doubt; for the first flashing

of the candles upon that canvas had

seemed to dissipate the dreamy stupor

which was stealing over my senses, and

to startle me at once into waking life.

The portrait, I have already said, was that

of a young girl. It was a mere head and

shoulders, done in what is technically

termed a vignette manner; much in the

style of the favourite heads of Sully. The

arms, the bosom, and even the ends of the

radiant hair melted imperceptibly into the

vague yet deep shadow which formed the

background of the whole. The frame was oval, richly gilded and filigreed in Moresque.

As a thing of art nothing could be more admirable than the painting itself. But it

could have been neither the execution of the work, nor the immortal beauty of the

countenance, which had so suddenly and so vehemently moved me. Least of all,

could it have been that my fancy, shaken from its half slumber, had mistaken the

head for that of a living person. I saw at once that the peculiarities of the design, of

the vignetting, and of the frame, must have instantly dispelled such idea - must have

prevented even its momentary entertainment. Thinking earnestly upon these points,

I remained, for an hour perhaps, half sitting, half reclining, with my vision riveted

upon the portrait. At length, satisfied with the true secret of its effect, I fell back

within the bed. I had found the spell of the picture in an absolute life-likeliness of

expression, which, at first startling, finally confounded, subdued, and appalled me.

With deep and reverent awe, I replaced the candelabrum in its former position. The

English: Grade 11 203

cause of my deep agitation being thus shut from view, I sought eagerly the volume

which discussed the paintings and their histories. Turning to the number which

designated the oval portrait, I there read the vague and quaint words which follow:

"She was a maiden of rarest beauty, and not more lovely than full of glee. And evil

was the hour when she saw, and loved, and wedded the painter. He, passionate,

studious, austere, and having already a bride in his Art; she a maiden of rarest beauty,

and not more lovely than full of glee; all light and smiles, and frolicsome as the

young fawn; loving and cherishing all things; hating only the Art which was her rival;

dreading only the pallet and brushes and other untoward instruments which deprived

her of the countenance of her lover. It was thus a terrible thing for this lady to hear

the painter speak of his desire to portray even his young bride. But she was humble

and obedient, and sat meekly for many weeks in the dark, high turret-chamber where

the light dripped upon the pale canvas only from overhead. But he, the painter, took

glory in his work, which went on from hour to hour, and from day to day. And he

was a passionate, and wild, and moody man, who became lost in reveries; so that

he would not see that the light which fell so ghastly in that lone turret withered the

health and the spirits of his bride, who pined visibly to all but him. Yet she smiled

on and still on, uncomplainingly, because she saw that the painter (who had high

renown) took a fervid and burning pleasure in his task, and wrought day and night to

depict her who so loved him, yet who grew daily more dispirited and weak. And in

sooth some who beheld the portrait spoke of its resemblance in low words, as of a

mighty marvel, and a proof not less of the power of the painter than of his deep love

for her whom he depicted so surpassingly well. But at length, as the labour drew

nearer to its conclusion, there were admitted none into the turret; for the painter had

grown wild with the ardour of his work, and turned his eyes from canvas merely,

even to regard the countenance of his wife. And he would not see that the tints which

he spread upon the canvas were drawn from the cheeks of her who sat beside him.

And when many weeks had passed, and but little remained to do, save one brush

upon the mouth and one tint upon the eye, the spirit of the lady again flickered up as

the flame within the socket of the lamp. And then the brush was given, and then the

tint was placed; and, for one moment, the painter stood entranced before the work

which he had wrought; but in the next, while he yet gazed, he grew tremulous and

very pallid, and aghast, and crying with a loud voice, 'This is indeed Life itself!'

turned suddenly to regard his beloved: She was dead!

204 English: Grade 11

NOTES

Mrs. Radcliffe : Ann Radcliffe (1764-1823) was an English author and pioneer of

Gothic fiction. Gothic fiction is a style of writing that is characterized

by elements of fear, horror, death, and gloom, as well as romance,

revolved around a large, ancient house such as castles or monasteries.

Appennines : Apennine Mountains - a mountain range in Italy

Glossary

ardour (n.): enthusiasm or passion

chateau (n.): a large French country house or castle

contemplation (n.): the action of looking thoughtfully at something for a long time

countenance (n.): face, look or appearance

frolicsome (adj.): lively and playful

ghastly (adj.): causing great horror or fear; frightful

glee (n.): a strong feeling of happiness; great pleasure or satisfaction

gloom (n.): partial or total darkness; a state of hopelessness

niche (n.): suitable position

reverent (adj.): feeling or showing deep respect

stupor (n.): a state of reduced consciousness or sensibility

sumptuously (adv.): in a way that is impressive and seems expensive

tapestry (n.): a piece of thick handwoven textile fabric with pictures used for hangings

tremulous (adj.): shaking or quivering slightly

valet (n.): a man’s male servant

vehemently (adv.): in a forceful, passionate or intense manner

vignette (n.): a small portrait photograph fading into its background

Summary

Pedro, the valet, brings the injured narrator to an abandoned chateau because he does not want him to have to sleep outside. They decide to force entry, wishing only to stay the night in one of the smallest apartments in a small tower. The room, rich and lavish with tapestries, trophies, and paintings is clearly in decay.

The narrator is at least partially delirious from his wounds. He begins to take an intense interest in the paintings and tells Pedro to close the windows, light a candelabrum, and open the bed curtains. He wants to be able to see the paintings while reading the book he found on the pillow. The book provides information about the paintings in the room. The narrator decides that instead of going to sleep, which his valet has done, he will read and observe the paintings long into the night. Around midnight, he shifts the candelabrum to direct more light on the book, and the light changes the effect on the room around him.

Now the narrator can see a painting that he had not seen before of a girl on the cusp of becoming a woman. The narrator impulsively feels the need to close his eyes. When he opens them, having calmed down, he looks at the painting again. He realizes that his sense had deceived him; he is startled into wakefulness. The portrait is of a girl’s head on the shoulders of Thomas Sully, an American artist. The oval frame is covered in gold filigree, in the Moorish style. For a moment, the narrator mistakes the painting for a living person, but obviously, it is a painting. He wonders how he could have thought the painting was a person, and then decides to move the candelabrum so that he cannot see the painting.

The narrator begins to read about the portrait. It says that the subject is a naturally cheerful maiden of rarest beauty, who marries the painter for love. It also says the painter is passionate but studious and is as much in love with painting as he is with his wife. Because the wife is naturally happy and loves all things, she hates his art, because it means he has less time for her.

Eventually, the wife’s jealous nature comes into conflict with the husband’s career in painting. He asks her to sit as a model for a portrait, which she is not excited about. She is a modest and obedient wife, however, and agrees to it. He sits in a dark tower where the only light comes from a window above. The passionate painter does not realize his wife is wasting away in the darkness. She does not complain and continues to smile.

The portrait is so life-like that everyone who sees it is struck by it. They say it is a combination of his skill and his love for her. When he is nearly done, however, he locks both of them up in the tower, away from visitors, to put all of his concentration into the art. He does not notice that his wife grows paler as the painting grows more life-like. When he finally finishes the painting, he exclaims that this is indeed Life itself! When he turns to his wife, however, he sees that she died the moment the last brush stroke hit the canvas.

Answer these questions.

a. Where did the narrator and his servant make forcible entrance?

They made a forcible entrance into the chateau.

b. Which special picture did the narrator notice in the room?

He noticed the picture of a young girl

c. Describe the portrait that the narrator saw in the room.

The portrait that the narrator saw in the room was in an oval-shaped frame. It revealed the head and shoulders of the

 young woman. The arms, the bosom, and even the ends of the radiant hair dissolved untraceable into the unclear yet

 deep shadow which formed the background of the whole.

d. What is the relationship between the portrait painter and its subject?

They are husband and wife.

Reference to the context

a. What is the central theme of the story? Who is the woman depicted in the oval

portrait?

The story “The Oval Portrait” deals with the theme of the relationship between art and life. Art and obsession with it are showed as killers and responsible for the young bride’s death. In this context, art is equivalent to death. The association between art and life is considered a rivalry. In the story, it is suggested that art can reveal the artist's guilt or evil and may even destroy life. The woman depicted in the oval portrait is the wife of the painter and the victim of the painter’s passion for the portrait.

b. "The Oval Portrait" is a short horror story by Edgar Allan Poe involving the

disturbing circumstances surrounding a portrait in a chateau. Elaborate.

The story "The Oval Portrait" is a short horror story with its dark setting and mood of narration. It is set in a gloomy abandoned mansion. Although the mansion is deserted, it contains objects of a dark and mysterious past - such as the oval portrait itself. The image of the remote abandoned chateau is given a hint of mystery and gloom. The interior where its walls are decorated with tapestry and manifold and multiform armorial trophies and a great number of spirited modern paintings is tattered and antique. The dark setting and shadowy circumstances of the prior events provide the impression that the story has a bizarre twist. The reader’s anticipation of mystery is sustained by the appearance of a lifelike portrait of a woman in one of the darker nooks of the mysterious room.

c. "The Oval Portrait" suggests that the woman's beauty condemns her to death.

Discuss.

The references of the painting state that the young lady in the portrait is very beautiful. She loses her life because her husband compels her to sit for many weeks in an attempt to make the most beautiful portrait of her. Though the lady sits next to her husband, he is so immersed in his painting to create a beautiful portrait of his wife. But he doesn’t realize his wife's life withdrawing from her body slowly. It reveals the sad reality of the husband's failure to witness the beauty of his wife. As he was an artist, he wants to treasure it in the form of a portrait. In this way, her beauty condemns her to own death.

d. Discuss the story as a frame narrative (a story within a story).

The Oval Portrait is a frame narrative or a story that contains another story. In the first part of the story, we encounter the unnamed narrator, who is injured and stranded at night for unknown reasons. He along with his companion and servant, Pedro, take shelter in an abandoned mansion. The narrator stays awake while his servant sleeps. He is captivated by the paintings on the bedroom wall and studies a book containing their history. Noticing a lifelike painting of a young woman, he reads about it in the book.

In the second section, the narrator tells how a beautiful woman marries a painter who is completely absorbed in his work. Although she doesn’t love this, she agrees to sit for a portrait, a process that takes many weeks. As the portrait nears completion, the lady grows increasingly weak. In placing the final touches of his masterpiece on the canvas, he suddenly realizes that she is dead.

e. The story is told in a descriptive style, with plenty of imagery and symbolism.

Which images and symbols do you find in the story?

The mansion is abandoned and worn-out. The turret room is in a remote section of the mansion. The room is rich in decorations, but they are tattered and antique. The walls are full of tapestries, trophies, and spirited modern paintings. This vivid description of the mansion provides a gothic image. Likewise, the descriptions of the portrait describe how real and beautiful it is. Although she is dead, she is painted so life-like in the portrait.

The dark gloominess of the abandoned house is a classic background for a gothic story. The painter is the symbol of fanaticism. The woman in the oval portrait is the victim of the painter's passion for art. The oval portrait symbolizes the immortality of art. The frame is the symbol of the general objectification she faced as a physically attractive woman.

f. What does the expression “She was dead!” mean?

The expression ‘She was dead!’ means the painter’s realization of the death of his beloved because of his devotion to the portrait. His wife remains in an obedient pose for many weeks. As the work continues her health becomes increasingly poor. However, the painter does not notice the worsening condition of his wife, continuing to paint desperately, without taking his eyes off the canvas. Given the last brush stroke, the painter is delighted with the liveliness of his creation, but turning to his wife, he realizes that she is dead.