The Portent · Chapter
My Boyhood explained
The narrator describes his childhood on a small Highland estate in Argyll, where he found solace and joy in the solitary landscape of a bare hill.
What happens
The narrator describes his childhood on a small Highland estate in Argyll, where he found solace and joy in the solitary landscape of a bare hill. He recounts his favorite retreat—a cave formed by rocks—where he read and dreamed, and reflects on his unusual sensitivity to sound, which brought him both delight and terror. He connects this sensitivity to a possible inheritance of the 'second sight' from his ancestors, though it manifests in his acute hearing rather than vision.
Themes in this chapter
Nature and the Highland Landscape
The chapter vividly portrays the narrator's deep bond with the desolate hill, its rocks, and the surrounding mountains, emphasizing nature as a source of both comfort and awe.
Second Sight and the Supernatural
The narrator's unusual hearing and fear of sounds are linked to the ancestral gift of second sight, suggesting a supernatural inheritance.
Isolation and Connection
The narrator's solitary childhood on the hill contrasts with his later fear of sounds, highlighting a tension between solitude and the desire for connection.
Characters to notice
- The Narrator
Reflects on his boyhood, his love of solitude and the Highland landscape, and his peculiar auditory sensitivity.
- Nurse
Mentioned as the source of tales about the narrator's ancestors having the gift of second sight.
Key passages
“The sheep ate over it, and no doubt found it good; I bounded and climbed all over it, and thought it a kingdom.”
The sheep grazed on the hill and were content, but for me it was a vast playground that I ruled as my own domain.
Illustrates the narrator's childhood perspective of the hill as a personal kingdom.
“I never see the statue of the Roman youth, praying with outstretched arms, and open, empty, level palms, as waiting to receive and hold the blessing of the gods, but that outstretched barren heath rises before me, as if it meant the same thing as the statue—or were, at least, the fit room in the middle space of which to set the praying and expectant youth.”
Whenever I see a statue of a young Roman praying with open hands, I am reminded of that barren heath, which seems to embody the same spirit of expectant prayer.
Highlights the narrator's spiritual connection to the landscape.
“If inadvertently I removed one of my fingers, the agony of terror I instantly experienced is indescribable.”
The moment I accidentally took a finger out of my ear, I felt an overwhelming terror that words cannot express.
Shows the extreme fear associated with the possibility of hearing sounds.