The Cask of Amontillado

On Friday night, when I used the word "flambeaux" instead of "torch," Stacy responded, "Somebody's been reading Poe." It's true, and it's one of my favorite times of the year. A year ago, I detailed how I described the weirdest attributes of Edgar Allan Poe in order to stir up student interest. I'm not too proud to admit that I've resorted to such measures again this year.

I didn't read "The Cask of Amontillado" until college, and even then I had to reread it before understanding it, because it's pretty intense. Hence, I find it fairly shocking that 9th graders are expected to grasp the short story in all of its fucked up glory. I let them read it themselves first and fail miserably, then walk through it step-by-step in a way that is not necessary for most reading assignments. Ultimately, the creepiness resonates with the kids who are perplexed by the narrator's motivations (well fancy that -- just as Poe intended!) Inevitably, a student in each of my five classes asks, "So wait, this is a true story?" It's a bit early to expect the students to understand that there's a difference between the author and the narrator, and it probably doesn't help that I previously described him as being twisted enough to do so.

One aspect that always needs addressing is the issue of reverse psychology. They figure Montresor must not really want to kill Fortunato if he keeps encouraging him to turn around. To illustrate reverse psychology, I fabricate a tale of how my parents used to tell me that vegetables were "only for grownups" so that I would want to eat them and do so in secrecy. The kids love this story, but it's not true. I don't care, it's all in the name of education. I do remember that once my mom convinced me to open my mouth and close my eyes in order to fool me into eating a piece of celery, which I have never forgiven her for. I flatter my students by explaining they're much too smart at their age to fall for reverse psychology anymore, which is also a lie. I still use it with them all the time.

I want the students to find the irony in the deceased Fortunato's name. They find the "fortunate" connection, but I'm most in love with one student's observation that "at first he was fortunate, but then he was nat-o." When I try the same with my lowest level class, they seem to think Fortunato's name has something to do with the name Nelly Furtado. Rather than shutting it down, I acknowledge that it does have a similar sound and point out the other, better connection. Except that it's the Nelly Furtado aspect that sticks with them, and as we discuss the story further, they continue to refer to Fortunato's character as Nelly Furtado, not in an attempt to be humorous, but out of genuine confusion. As if the story weren't confusing enough.