It's a tale of terror starring two main characters: Montresor and Fortunato. In its surface were two iron staples, distant from each other about two feet, horizontally. There are multiple ways to get revenge on someone; some people get straight to the point and go in for the kill, like what Montresor did in The Cask of Amontillado. A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite. Montresor confesses this story fifty years after its occurrence; such a significant passage of time between the events and the narration of the events makes the narrative all the more unreliable. He repeated the movement --a grotesque one.
It is easy to ascertain that Fortunato is a Freemason, while Montresor is not, which could be the source of Fortunato's recent ascension into upper class society. After no response, Montresor claims that his heart feels sick because of the dampness of the catacombs. Initially there is a disruption. However, a literal connection exists between the words 'distill' and 'alcohol' so, by using these words, Poe vividly expresses the extent of poor Fortunato's intoxication without plainly stating, 'Fortunato is drunk. Once this is done, the person gains knowledge from the experience. It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the carnival season, that I encountered my friend. The only difference in this case is that the reader has a better sense of Fortunato's fate than he does.
Thousands of Injuries: A Hyperbole The story begins with this melodramatic statement: 'The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. With Montressor being the narrator you have a more descriptive look at why he does what he does, and what his true motives were. We will all, at a point in our lives, feel the need to seek vengeance upon someone. In painting and gemmary, Fortunato, like his countrymen, was a quack, but in the matter of old wines he was sincere. We passed through a range of low arches, descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our rather to glow than flame. If the body moved, the bells would be an alert to open the casket. Informing the entire story is the nature of an insult that could evoke such a well-planned, diabolical scheme of revenge.
It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given Fortunato cause to doubt my good will. He was too much astounded to resist. The reader, of course, is shocked by the diabolical efficiency of the murderer, and also by the fact that Montresor has lived with impunity, and also, ironically, his victim has rested in peace for fifty years. Fortunato is anxious to taste the wine and to determine for Montresor whether or not it is truly Amontillado. The vaults are insufferably damp. Poe's descriptive setting is an asset to the appeal of the story, particularly when the story proceeds to the catacombs. It has been reprinted multiple times over the years.
Montresor is successful in chaining Fortunato to the wall. Fortunato then showed him a sign of the masons — a trowel, which he brought with him. The emotional response calls for action which will rectify the disruption. The narrator keeps offering to bring Fortunato back home, but Fortunato refuses. I reapproached the wall; I replied to the yells of him who clamoured.
And in the middle of the carnival! With these materials and with the aid of my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche. A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite. These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to insure their immediate disappearance, one and all, as soon as my back was turned. Poe does this by employing metaphor, simile, and hyperbole, elevating 'The Cask of Amontillado' from a simple, if slightly disturbing, story to a provocative and engaging tale that leads readers into the dank depths of the catacombs. In his plan to entomb Fortunato in the Montresor catacombs, he was clever at the right time; his planning was perfect.
I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs, and felt satisfied. It was not the cry of a drunken man. When they come to a , Montresor tells his victim that the Amontillado is within. In this respect I did not differ from him materially; --I was skilful in the Italian vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could. Then I must positively leave you.
On the one hand, the phrase 'the drops of moisture trickle among the bones' serves to describe the environment, but it also functions as figurative language that refers to the alcohol dripping through and saturating Fortunato's body. The same is true when Fortunato insults Montresor concerning the masons — both a secret, honorable order which requires close scrutiny for a person to become a member and, of course, an honorable trade, a tool of which Montresor will use for a most dishonorable deed. He laughed and threw the bottle upwards with a gesticulation I did not understand. Against the new masonry I re-erected the old rampart of bones. The most obvious ironic element of the story is Fortunato's name. He continues to assure us that he has given Fortunato no insight to the fact that he is to kill him, and he plans to use Fortunato's knowledge of wine to lure him to his death.
You were not to be found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain. His face covered in a black silk mask, Montresor represents not blind justice but rather its Gothic opposite: biased revenge. And a cask is a barrel. This theme is evident in Fortunato's costume of a with bells upon his hat, and his situation of live entombment within the catacombs. After all, from what we can glean from the story, Montresor, in spite of the reputed insults of Fortunato, came from an ancient, perhaps noble family, and he is also a person of considerable taste in gems, in paintings, in wines, and in other matters , and it is evident that he possesses considerable intelligence, albeit a type of diabolical intelligence.
He paused and nodded to me familiarly, while his bells jingled. A metaphor compares two unlike things, using one as a symbol for the other. In this respect I did not differ from him materially: I was skillful in the Italian vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could. Feel free to share in the comments. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser.