Edgar Allan Poe: “The Black Cat,” and Current Forensic Psychology

Abstract

In “The Black Cat,” Poe created a narrator who lacks remorse, empathy, and a conscience, a character who deceives and manipulates those around him because of an impulsive, egocentric personality known as psychopathy. In the beginning, the narrator explains that he will die the next day for murdering his wife; however, readers soon understand he has no living relatives who care about his guilt or innocence, calling into question audience and purpose. While readers might wonder if he hopes for a stay of execution, this thought will soon pass because he admits to the murder and provides grisly, perverse details of the crime. When readers juxtapose the narrator’s words and actions with current forensic research on psychopathy—especially with the research of Robert D. Hare, audience and purpose become clear. Moreover, Hare’s research—when compared and contrasted with literary scholars such as Richard Badenhausen, Susan Amper, Joseph Stark, and John Cleman—also highlights Poe’s political and scientific acumen along with his literary skill at creating a character that readers during the 1840s would have understood in light of the legal debates concerning the insanity defense. Poe created a textbook psychopathic personality, leaving out none of the traits, even though the currently accepted definition of psychopathy was not agreed upon until the early 1990s. Through this narrator, Poe reveals the inner workings of a criminal type that public defenders of Poe’s time, along with scientists and the public, agreed should not be held accountable for their crimes.

Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Black Cat,” first published in the August 19, 1843, issue of the Saturday Evening Post, is a chilling story written through the eyes of a man awaiting death for the murder of his wife. For over 170 years the narrator of this story has captivated critics and readers with his allusions to ethos, pathos, and logos—as he says that he places “before the world, plainly, succinctly, and without comment”¹ an unsettling account of the events surrounding the murder of his wife and his abuse of the family pets. The narrator declares that he will state his case candidly, all the while creating nothing more than a pretense of frankness and objectivity. He titillates readers with details about the horrendous murder of his wife and his first cat—if, in fact, any cats were actually killed in the making of this story.² He also may leave readers wondering about his purpose for writing. The story cannot save him from the noose. He has no progeny and mentions no living relatives who might care about his guilt or innocence, so the story serves little purpose for the writer, leaving readers to wonder who might be the intended audience and what might be the story’s point.

Readers return to this story, perhaps, because of the narrator’s ability to lure audiences into believing large parts of the tale. Susan Amper writes, “In weighing the statements of someone accused of a crime, our common sense leads us to the following guidelines: (1) We accept incriminating information as likely to be true, since the suspect would have no reason to invent it; (2) we give less credence to exculpatory details.”³ So when the narrator confesses his guilt in the opening and offers incriminating information, readers may at first think the narrator offers a confidential and unique version of his predicament. However, when the narrator later blames the cat for everything that has gone wrong or when he begins to contradict himself, readers will question narrator reliability. It is true that readers often encounter unreliable narrators in literature, but the dissembling in this story actually points to an important aspect of Poe’s work as the numerous inconsistencies and deceptions direct readers away from the story and toward an assessment of the narrator and his behavior.

Many of the narrator’s deceptions and behaviors suggest Poe created a character that fits into current scientific definitions of psychopathy. According to Robert D. Hare...