Well,
when the Raven appears at his lattice, the narrator says the bird made him smile:
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not
the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord
or lady, perched above my chamber door
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my
chamber door
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.Then this ebony
bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the
countenance it wore,
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou, I said, art sure
no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore
Tell me what
thy lordly name is on the Nights Plutonian shore!
Quoth the Raven Nevermore.
(stanzas 7 and 8)
Given the tone of the poem (despondency
over the "lost " and dread and alarm over the incessant tapping and rapping) it's
natural to wonder what there is for his "sad fancy" to smile at. Clearly, the bird is
not comical! One way to think about it is that the bird, by squatting on the "bust of
Pallas," the goddess of wisdom, is seen by the narrator to be making, unintentionally, a
kind of ironic comment on his "work," which is to forget Lenore by throwing himself
into his studies.
Another way to think about it is to consider the narrator's
state of mind. His "sad fancy" is his predeliction for imagining gloom and terror. Of
course, in such a state, he would be visited by a raven, a bird of ill omen. Perhaps his smile
comes from recognizing the inevitability of the Raven's coming, which is an omen of another
inevitable event, his death.
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