The Raven -- this piece haunted me as a child. The beautiful, red cover of
the book my tutor was constantly reading had always fascinated me. My
fascination was only increased by his not allowing me to touch it. It must
have been chance that he left the book laying on a table in the library.
He would never have let his treasure come to my hands if he could have
avoided it.
I was spellbound for a few moments, then as quickly as possible, I opened the cover. The first thing I saw was a poem about beautiful Annabel Lee. I couldn't understand why he'd kept the book from me; I'd copied this poem in class only a few days earlier. And even enjoyed it. It couldn't be that he was afraid I'd hurt his darling book, I was always careful with them. Entranced, I began to read further...
It wasn't until I had read a story about a cat with gallows mapped on his chest that the door opened. I looked up guiltily, slamming the book shut and grabbing another at the same time. Luckily, it was only my older sister coming to call me to dinner. She scolded me for sitting too close to the fire, reminding me that it would injure my eyes; then dragged me off to wash my hands and comb my hair before coming to the table.
After that day I sought every opportunity to be alone with that book. Its words horrified me, but somehow I couldn't stop reading. And even when I wasn't alone I couldn't take my eyes off its cover. I became convinced it derived its unusual color from the blood of innocence. Like what I had had. It introduced me to the world of pain and suffering - and guilt.
The poem that fascinated me most was called The Raven... "Take thy beak from out my heart! / Take thy form from off my door / Quoth the Raven "Nevermore". That one poem seemed to contain all that was evil. In very little time I began to associate the raven, that bird of darkness, with all my doubts and fears. I started having nightmares about a raven at night and feared to go outside lest it came to harm me.
My parents couldn't understand what I was talking about. I had gone to one of my friend's houses and wasn't expected home until dusk. I had stayed longer than I expected and it was already beginning to get dark by the time I left. I started out walking home, knowing I would get there before anyone would be worried about me.
It wasn't until the next day that they found me. I had fallen at the foot of a wall that held up one side of our orchard. No one could understand why I had wandered there; it wasn't close to the path home. And how could I tell them about my fear? How I had seen a giant raven - The Raven - coming towards me. It pursued me all through my illness whenever I was left alone or hallucinated. They tried to find out what it was I spoke of in my delirium. No one but my tutor knew.
I knew he knew when he came to my room one day when no one else was there. He was holding the book and opening it to The Raven began to read. After he had finished he attempted to explain. Explain how the raven itself was in my mind and his and how it stood for all of our weaknesses and oppressions. As soon as I resumed my lessons he began a different course of study, seeking to turn my new awareness into something good.
Poor M. Régnier you have succeeded in a way. I never overcame my fear but it did spur me on to try and prevent it from coming to others. I've tried, now you can shoot me and I'll finally be at peace. With God in heaven.
Don't be afraid dear M. Régnier. You can't help it, it's part of your job as a Guardsman. Go on, do it.
"Vive France!"
Finis
I was spellbound for a few moments, then as quickly as possible, I opened the cover. The first thing I saw was a poem about beautiful Annabel Lee. I couldn't understand why he'd kept the book from me; I'd copied this poem in class only a few days earlier. And even enjoyed it. It couldn't be that he was afraid I'd hurt his darling book, I was always careful with them. Entranced, I began to read further...
It wasn't until I had read a story about a cat with gallows mapped on his chest that the door opened. I looked up guiltily, slamming the book shut and grabbing another at the same time. Luckily, it was only my older sister coming to call me to dinner. She scolded me for sitting too close to the fire, reminding me that it would injure my eyes; then dragged me off to wash my hands and comb my hair before coming to the table.
After that day I sought every opportunity to be alone with that book. Its words horrified me, but somehow I couldn't stop reading. And even when I wasn't alone I couldn't take my eyes off its cover. I became convinced it derived its unusual color from the blood of innocence. Like what I had had. It introduced me to the world of pain and suffering - and guilt.
The poem that fascinated me most was called The Raven... "Take thy beak from out my heart! / Take thy form from off my door / Quoth the Raven "Nevermore". That one poem seemed to contain all that was evil. In very little time I began to associate the raven, that bird of darkness, with all my doubts and fears. I started having nightmares about a raven at night and feared to go outside lest it came to harm me.
My parents couldn't understand what I was talking about. I had gone to one of my friend's houses and wasn't expected home until dusk. I had stayed longer than I expected and it was already beginning to get dark by the time I left. I started out walking home, knowing I would get there before anyone would be worried about me.
It wasn't until the next day that they found me. I had fallen at the foot of a wall that held up one side of our orchard. No one could understand why I had wandered there; it wasn't close to the path home. And how could I tell them about my fear? How I had seen a giant raven - The Raven - coming towards me. It pursued me all through my illness whenever I was left alone or hallucinated. They tried to find out what it was I spoke of in my delirium. No one but my tutor knew.
I knew he knew when he came to my room one day when no one else was there. He was holding the book and opening it to The Raven began to read. After he had finished he attempted to explain. Explain how the raven itself was in my mind and his and how it stood for all of our weaknesses and oppressions. As soon as I resumed my lessons he began a different course of study, seeking to turn my new awareness into something good.
Poor M. Régnier you have succeeded in a way. I never overcame my fear but it did spur me on to try and prevent it from coming to others. I've tried, now you can shoot me and I'll finally be at peace. With God in heaven.
Don't be afraid dear M. Régnier. You can't help it, it's part of your job as a Guardsman. Go on, do it.
"Vive France!"
Finis