The Oval Portrait: A Tale of Dark Love
Posted by Sapphire Neal on February 16, 2011
For our Dark Love episode of Horror Addicts, I wanted to tell you a little about one of my favorite Edgar Allan Poe stories, The Oval Portrait. Now you may not have known this but the first publication of the story was an extended version titled, Life In Death. Life In Death first appeared in Graham’s Magazine in 1824. This version explained that the narrator had been injured in a run-in with bandits. It also went on to explain that he had taken opium to alleviate the pain. Some believe Poe removed the opening to keep readers from being under the impression that the story was all just a hallucination. The shortened, more popular version The Oval Portrait came out in 1845 in the Broadway Journal.
The story starts out with the narrator and his man servant, Pedro, breaking into a chateau for shelter. The narrator, whose name we are never told, is fascinated by the paintings on the walls. Later he finds a small book, on the pillow of his bed, filled with descriptions and criticisms. While reading the book in the candle light, he is startled to see an unbelievably life-like portrait in the room with him. He is so shocked he shuts his eyes to ensure they are not playing tricks on him. The narrator soon finds the story of the painting within the book, it is told as follows:
“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 pourtray (sic.) 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 be 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 labor drew nearer to its conclusion, there were admitted none into the turret; for the painter had grown wild with the ardor 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 sate beside him.”
“And when many weeks bad 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!”
This wicked love triangle causes the death of a young woman. The painter of The Oval Portrait was so in love with his painting that he gave it her life. And the wife, so in love with her husband, sits there diligently for him though it literally kills her.
I want to hear your opinions: How could she love a man like that? How could he not notice her illness? Was the painter mad? Or just obsessed? What caused the painting to steal her life away?
You can read The Oval Portrait online at this site:
http://poestories.com/read/ovalportrait
David Watson said
I think the wife was looking for immortality and the husband was so obsessed with finishing the painting he never knew she was sick. They were so consumed on doing the painting that they didn’t notice anything else. I don’t think love had anything to do with this poem, it was more about vanity or at least thats the way I saw it.
Sapphire Neal said
That is a very interesting point of view, it never crossed my mind to think of it that way. It reminds me of the story of Dorian Gray. He sells his soul to become immortal, and forever beautiful. In fact some believe that “The Oval Portrait” was the inspiration for “The Picture of Dorian Gray”.
Thanks for your input! :]
Garth von Buchholz said
The Oval Portrait is one of Poe’s finest stories. Thank you for drawing attention to it in your well-written blog.
It has often been remarked that this story is semi-autobiographical. In other words, the artist in the tale is Poe himself, the woman is his ailing wife, Virginia, and the tragic ending is about Poe’s guilt for spending so much time on his writing when his wife needed him at her side so badly before she died.
This is the malady of the solitary writing life: that in order to write, we must periodically shut our loved ones out of our private world.
Sapphire Neal said
Thank you Garth, I’m glad you enjoyed the blog post.
I’ve heard that as well (the story being semi-autobiographical), I’ve also heard that about his story “Eleonora”.
And I don’t think anyone could have said it better: “This is the malady of the solitary writing life: that in order to write, we must periodically shut our loved ones out of our private world.”