Poe's The Raven
...l way. The one word that we hear from the raven several times throughout the poem, “Nevermore,” is said in tone of deep mystery. The man does not know exactly what the fowl means, but he is left to draw his own conclusion. Toward the end of the poem, the man begins to grow angry at the bird. “‘Prophet!’ said I, ‘thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!’” He is shouting at the winged beast because he thought that it had arrived to help him but now it seems that it is only here to mock him. Our speaker is the nameless man. “Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary.” He is very lonely at this point in his life. He had given his heart to Lenore, but she has recently joined the dead. He insists on reading away his hurt, though. He chooses to get lost in books so that he can escape the harsh reality that plagues him. He speaks to anyone of us who will listen. Inside the poem, he speaks directly at the raven, but the poem, in whole, is directed toward the reader. The speaker has the memory of Lenore close at hand, but is attempting to focus on the present. The raven makes this easier, yet difficult at the same time for him. He is able to focus on the now for a short time, as the raven flies in. He endeavors to ask the bird what it has come for. Is it here to help him? But in the end, he thinks the bird has come to haunt him. It is a cold December evening, probably in Richmond, Virginia. We are in the house of the speaker, perhaps his reading room. He is probably lying on the overstuffed couch with a mug of hot cocoa and a blanket pulled up to his chin, while dosing and reading. These comforts will not be any help to him in several minutes, though. Once he approaches the sliding glass door that appears as painted ebony with the darkness trying to escape into the room, fear begins to settle into his thoughts. “Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before.” His imagination is running away with him. Like walking down a dark hallway after watching a scary movie, one can smell and taste the fear, feel the sweat rising on the brow, as well as that trickling down one’s back. He is imagining some creature more terrible than any have ever known before. Maybe a person, though. A man who dances around in his grandma’s panti...