The calm manner in which he will now tell us the whole story is in itself evidence of his sound mind. ), saying only that he loved his victim and that he did not covet the old man’s wealth. It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. The old man and his killer seem to live in the same house, and this would suggest a family bond of some kind, and, from here, a father-son relation with ample room for subconscious motives. And observe how healthily - how calmly I can tell you the whole story. Yes, it was this! I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth.
Passion there was none. —nervous, very, very dreadful nervous I had been and am but why will you say that I am mad? Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold and so by degrees - very gradually - I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever. The narrator points out that his mental disorder has actually caused his senses, especially his hearing, to become more acute. But having posited (and immediately undercut) the first argument in his proof, the narrator turns to a second plank. He had the eye of a vulture - a pale blue eye, with a film over it. For his gold I had no desire. The disease had sharpened my senses - not destroyed - not dulled them.
The unreliable narrator of this classic short story denies accusations that he is mad. When he claims to have heard many things in heaven and hell, we realize, of course, that his super-human sensory experiences are delusions. TRUE! How, then, am I mad? In mid-sentence, as if he just realized it (or made it up), the narrator declares that it was one of the old man’s eyes, a pale-blue, film-covered eye like that of a vulture, that he could not stand. He had never wronged me. I loved the old man. Object there was none.
The narrator says that he cannot recall when the idea of killing the old man ‘‘entered’’ his ‘‘brain. When the police come to question him, he is disturbed by the sound of the old man’s heart, which he perceives to be still beating beneath the floorboards. A tell tale heart essay. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. Hearken! - nervous - very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am but why will you say that I am mad? I think it was his eye! He is so disturbed that he confesses and tells the police where to find the body.
He begins to tell a tale to prove his sanity. But the narrator conspicuously omits direct confirmation that the old man is his father (or uncle, etc. ’’ He declares at once that he suffers from a ‘‘disease, ’’ but implies that because it has not dulled his senses, he cannot be called mad. I heard many things in hell. As if jogging his own memory (or, again, making it up on the spot), the narrator further recollects that when this ‘‘evil eye’’ fell upon him, his blood ran cold. The dramatic monologue begins with the unnamed (and highly unreliable) first-person narrator issuing a challenge of sorts: ‘‘True! He cuts him into pieces and buries the body under the floorboards. He recalls being inspired to kill the old man who he was living with and notes that he was made nervous by the man’s “evil eye. He had never given me insult.