31 pages • 1 hour read
Edgar Allan PoeA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Given that the unnamed frame narrator is traveling in Italy unaccompanied by anyone other than a single servant, Pedro, whose occupation is given as “valet,” it is likely that the narrator is a middle- or upper-class adult man. From the narrator’s choice of words, like “commingled,” “multiform,” and “incipient,” it is clear that the narrator is educated (481). Little can be deduced about his background aside from this. At the outset of the story, all the narrative conveys about this man is that he is wounded and hovering on the edge of delirium. His condition may explain why it is his servant, rather than the narrator himself, who makes the decision to break into the chateau to find shelter. That Pedro would make this choice indicates that the frame narrator is the kind of man who inspires loyalty in those around him.
Once they are inside the chateau, the narrator appears to be decisive enough, as he chooses a room and instructs Pedro on how to arrange the circumstances to his liking. The narrator’s confident, educated, and formal voice backs up this impression of a self-assured man of at least moderately high status. Despite his confidence, the narrator’s reliability must be questioned: He is badly injured and nearly delirious. He claims that his first sight of the portrait is enough to shock him back into alertness, however, and given Poe’s choice to cut the original story’s introductory exposition regarding the narrator’s drug use when he revised it into “The Oval Portrait,” it is reasonable to assume that Poe did not intend to portray the narrator as truly unreliable.
For the first part of the story, the frame narrator’s focus is largely external: He describes the chateau and the painting in detail but offers no description of himself. Because of this, there is no direct characterization of him. Given how brief and limited the action of the frame narrative is, there is also very little in the way of indirect characterization, making the frame narrator an essentially flat character. One detail that does emerge, once the narrator is in bed trying to rest, is that he is the kind of person who looks to art for solace and who is capable of being greatly moved by it. His reaction after seeing the oval portrait indicates that he is also curious and somewhat driven by discovery and the acquisition of truth.
These qualities of the frame narrator—his curiosity about the painting, his response to art, his external focus, his intellect, his confidence, and his servant’s loyalty to him—flesh him out just enough to allow him to function as a reader stand-in. He does not have enough of a developed, individual personality to interfere with this function, but he serves well as the reader’s eyes and ears and as a model of the kind of interrogation of ideas and art that the story seeks to encourage.
Pedro is the frame narrator’s servant, specifically, his valet, which means that Pedro’s job is to act as the frame narrator’s personal attendant, helping him dress, keeping his clothing and rooms tidy, and generally ensuring that his days run smoothly. Breaking into a chateau is beyond the usual scope of these duties, but significantly, the break-in is Pedro’s idea. Having assessed the seriousness of the frame narrator’s injuries, Pedro is concerned that a night exposed to the elements will be dangerous for his employer, and he acts decisively to prevent this further harm. He is clearly practical and loyal to the frame narrator, which positively characterizes both men.
The narrator does not offer any direct characterization of Pedro, and Pedro drops out of the story after performing his duties of lighting the candelabrum and opening the bed curtains. Every action Pedro is depicted performing is in service of the comfort of his wounded employer, making him more of an archetype—the faithful servant—than a fully-developed character. Pedro functions as a demonstration of the utility of relationships and lends some support to the idea that the frame narrator is a decent person whom the reader can trust, but he is otherwise granted little importance. His age, background, and personal characteristics are all unknown, making him a completely flat and static character.
Paradoxically, Pedro is the story’s only named character. Rather than indicating his importance, though, this authorial choice has the effect of setting Pedro apart from the other three characters and spotlighting the fact that none of the other three are named. This creates an air of mystery and almost mythic significance around the other three characters. “Pedro” is just Pedro, an ordinary servant, but the other three characters are figures lacking the boundaries of individual names.
The painter is the protagonist of the story-within-the-story, the narrative contained inside the small book and shared by the frame narrator in the final section of “The Oval Portrait.” Inside the world of Poe’s story, there is no clear rhetorical context for the frame narrator’s tale—it is not clear to whom the frame narrator is speaking, or under what circumstances. The story-within-the-story is presented as a deliberately crafted, written account, with its own, third-person narrator. The third-person narrator of this story is conscious of developing character for a reader, and so both the painter and his wife are more deliberately described.
The painter is a serious, “wild and moody” man, whose passion for art eclipses his love and concern for his own wife (483). His decision to ask his wife to sit for a portrait shows that he is either unaware of or does not care about her feelings regarding his devotion to painting—she is quite right in her belief that painting will always come first for him. The third-person narrator judges this quality harshly, referring to the first meeting of the painter and the woman who would become his wife as an “evil” hour and describing his interest in his art with pejorative diction such as “fervid and burning” (483).
The unnamed people who stop in to see the unfinished portrait clearly believe that the painter does love his wife. The narrator specifically mentions their comments to this effect, and the painter’s cry of anguish at the end of the story supports this idea. Still, what love he feels for her is subsumed by his love for painting, and he is so transfixed by his project that he does not notice until it is too late that the creation of the portrait is literally consuming the spark of his young wife’s life. The Relationship Between Art and Life is addressed in their relationship and character arcs. Because the painter is driven to create a lifelike piece at the expense of his wife’s wellness, her sense of self begins to expire until she ultimately dies. This imbalance between art and life is fatal because of The Dangers of Obsession displayed in the painter’s behaviors. Despite his intentions, he has sacrificed his wife in exchange for a seemingly perfect, lifelike painting.
This portrayal of the painter—as brooding, passionate, and utterly consumed by a personal vision—makes him an example of the archetype referred to as the “romantic hero” and incorporates the theme of The Nature of Romantic Relationships. This archetype is subverted, however, in that he loses his wife because of his own obsession and inability to empathize with her needs. This commentary on relationships again reiterates the need for balance and connection for a marriage to thrive.
The third-person narrator’s descriptions of the painter’s wife’s wonderful qualities are repetitious and lyrical almost to the point of hyperbole. The first fifth of the brief story-within-a-story is taken up with direct characterization of this woman. Within this space, her “rarest beauty” is mentioned twice (483). That she is “full of glee” is also mentioned twice—indeed, the wording of the story’s opening line is repeated almost verbatim in the story’s third sentence, stressing the equivalence between the woman’s loveliness and temperament as emphatically as possible (483). The lyricism (use of poetic techniques to create a musical and emotional quality) of this passage further stresses how rare and radiant a person the painter’s wife is.
The opening of the story also introduces several important ideas in addition to the wife’s beauty and gleeful nature. The description of the wife’s temperament explicitly identifies her with the symbolism of light, and therefore with life itself. The syntax of the third sentence deliberately juxtaposes the painter’s wife with her husband, suggesting that not only are their temperaments opposed, but they have opposing interests as well. It then goes on to clarify these opposing interests: The only thing in the world that the painter’s wife hates is his art, because she is so passionately in love with her husband that she views his vocation as a rival for his love and attention. The Relationship Between Art and Life is also made apparent in that his painting is only whole when it captures her life, quite literally, at her expense.
The first part of the story also employs a simile that compares the woman to a “young fawn” (483). Just as with the frame narrator’s repeated descriptions of the woman as a “young girl,” the phrasing “young fawn” is redundant: All fawns are young. The language of this simile echoes the frame narrator’s earlier description of the woman in another sense as well: The frame narrator metaphorically compared the woman to a ripening fruit or vegetable, and now the third-person narrator compares her to a juvenile animal. In both cases, her dependency and lack of agency are highlighted. These qualities are reinforced throughout the remainder of the brief story, connecting the two characters in a commentary on The Nature of Romantic Relationships: The painter’s wife is “humble and obedient,” and she “meekly” submits to his desires, smiling cheerfully despite the despair she feels (483).
The story-within-a-story depicts the painter’s wife in terms that the average 19th-century reader would have considered near perfection: She is radiantly beautiful, cheerful, humble, and obedient. Her only weakness is the jealousy inspired by her passionate attachment to her husband. Because of the extremity of her passion, she is unable to protect her own interests and ends up sacrificing herself to please him, supporting The Dangers of Obsession in her husband.
By Edgar Allan Poe