Why Pluto is No Longer a Planet

Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Black Cat” is ultimately a confession in which the narrator explains, as well as acknowledges, the crimes committed leading up to the death of his wife.  Poe’s story includes the annoying black cat, Pluto, and its assumed ghost.  With a confession being a disclosure of sin and a defense meaning resisting attack or protecting oneself, it is obvious that the narrator is not protecting himself from anyone or anything.  Due to the excessive drinking of alcohol, especially, one can argue that drunks are highly inclined to be violent and easily set off.  Now, in his right state of mind, the narrator opens his mind to tell the readers his story.  In this case, the narrator is confessing and is aware of his sin and actions.  He is completely honest (assumedly, since he confesses so much in great detail) in terms of his thoughts, feelings, and actions and expresses this through a confession to the readers.

After the killing of Pluto, Poe explains the narrator  “again plunged into excess, and soon drowned in wine all memory of the deed” (232).  Obviously, the narrator is feeling guilty of the action performed, and any remembrance of it shall be washed away.  This leads to the heavily drinking that follows.  After ridding of the cat, a second one appears.  A ghost perhaps?  Poe describes the feelings toward this cat as “…disgusted and annoyed…rose into the bitterness of hatred…I came to look upon it with unutterable loathing” (234).   There is no defense in the words used to describe the emotions the narrator has toward the cat.  It is apparent that he wants this cat gone, caput, and out with a hiss as one might say. 

While attempting to kill the cat that has the narrator in shambles and disgust, the hand of his wife gets in the way.  With the disturbance of this hand comes a fatal misfortune.  In fact, Poe writes, “This hideous murder accomplished, I set myself forthwith, and with entire deliberation, to the task of concealing the body” (236).  There is no ‘oops, wife got in the way of my crime, I’ll kill her instead.’  Here, the narrator is admitting to the crime.  Absolutely no blame nor shame, and he feels accomplished!  Like killing your wife is something to be proud of?  Let’s just mount her on the wall like a trophy. (Trophy wife, get it?)  Finally, now, he can rest.  The deed has been done and he has rid of the animals and wife he had once loved.  The narrator exclaims, “…and thus for one night at least, since its introduction to the house, I soundly and tranquilly slept; aye, slept even with the burden of murder upon my soul!”  Tormenting and committing murder must be exhausting!  Without the perturbing Pluto, the ghost, and wife, the narrator is at once at ease. 

Now with the questioning of the authorities, one would think the narrator would defend himself.  Wrong!  He is so proud of his accomplishments that he goes as far as confessing where he put the body.  Poe starts off the “Black Cat” with, “But to-morrow I die, and to-day I would unburthen my soul” (230).  Now, as he lie on death row, he must now with a conscious mind confess to his readers the reasoning of the fallible deaths of those he had once loved.