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Living without a conscience is a kind of death.
Throughout the story, the narrator lives according to evil and selfish whims. His actions would go entirely unchecked without the harsh, whispery voice of the doppelganger, William Wilson. Wilson keeps the narrator from completely lording over his schoolmates at Dr. Bransby’s Academy. During a night of wild debauchery at Eton, a mere whisper from Wilson causes the narrator to sober up. The very moment the narrator begins to feel guilty for cleaning out Glendinning, Wilson shows up to reveal the scheme. Finally, Wilson’s appearance at the masquerade keeps the narrator from committing adultery with his host’s wife. In stopping the narrator from enacting his worst impulses, Wilson acts as a physical manifestation of the narrator’s conscience, which he otherwise seems to lack. This relationship between the two offers insight into Wilson’s cryptic last warning that, in killing him, the narrator has effectively killed himself. From that moment, although the narrator is literally alive, it seems he has died a kind of spiritual death.
We see the full force of Wilson’s words at the beginning of the story, as the narrator cites Wilson’s murder as the event that made him cross the line from bad to irredeemable. Although the narrator has apparently survived since killing Wilson, the way he frames his life since the murder seems almost a living death. The narrator refuses to speak of his present life, treating it as a blur of evil deeds. He describes himself as fallen, as if to hell, and asks whether he has been living in a dream. However, instead of bragging about his more recent wicked pursuits or seeming to derive any pleasure from them, he instead sounds almost numb and resigned to his evil. The narrator’s wicked deeds may satisfy his impulses, but they degrade his soul, leaving him alone, guilty, and miserable.
Social hierarchy breeds cruelty.
Although a commoner, the narrator seems obsessed with social class and hierarchy. His obsession with social status provokes his anger and fuels his wickedness. At the academy, the narrator establishes dominance over his classmates and considers this proof of his superiority. He views Wilson as a threat to his schoolyard reign, both because Wilson doesn’t defer to him and because of their similarities. Although the narrator is a commoner, he mentions that his family is of noble descent and consistently attempts to move in circles that contain members of the nobility. He despises his name because it is “the common property of the mob”—that is, a name associated with people from the lower classes. This association of his name with commonality is initially what makes the appearance of the doppelganger William Wilson so infuriating. He is already self-conscious about how his name makes him appear lower class, and the presence of another student with the same name only emphasizes this point. His desire to fight William Wilson stems partially from the class implications of having a double.
We also see how the narrator’s desire for social status fuels his cruelty in his treatment of Glendinning. In introducing his time at Oxford, the narrator describes how his hangers-on would have described him as “the noblest and most liberal commoner at Oxford.” Regardless of whether people truly say this of him, he clearly fancies that he is distinguished from other students who are commoners and considered more like the students whose family come from the nobility. Glendinning is a parvenu nobleman—that is, a nobleman from a family who has recently been elevated in status or perhaps recently given title. It’s likely that the narrator targets Glendinning out of jealousy that a young man whom he considers to be his intellectual inferior nevertheless has obtained something he clearly desires: nobility. The narrator’s need for status, even more so than wealth, motivates his wicked schemes.
Individual identity is important for one’s sanity.
Among the most important reasons the narrator resents William Wilson is the fact that his doppelganger’s presence implies he isn’t unique. The narrator has a strong sense of identity. He introduces his story by describing his family lineage and the traits he believes he inherited from his parents. Before Wilson’s murder, the narrator thinks quite highly of himself. While his hatred of his name is partially class-based, it’s also because many people have it, which he feels as an intrusion on his identity. However, before he sees Wilson’s face, the narrator is merely annoyed by him, not infuriated or terrified. Only after realizing that the other William Wilson may not be imitating him, but instead may be identical to him, is he sent into a panic.
Although the narrator is clearly infuriated by Wilson thwarting his schemes, he seems even more frustrated that, after the night he leaves Dr. Bransby’s Academy, he never sees Wilson’s face. Implicitly, he’s terrified with the thought that the face might be as identical to his as he believes it might be. When the narrator leaves the gambling incident at Oxford, the host mistakes Wilson’s cloak for the narrator’s own. This incident frightens the narrator so that he departs England out of guilt as well as “horror.” The narrator repeats this word, “horror,” in describing his emotions upon finally seeing Wilson’s face. This horror is heightened by the fact that Wilson’s voice, in his moment of death, seems identical to the narrator’s own. The revelation of his doppelganger causes a crisis of identity in the narrator, such that he can no longer be sure whether he stabbed someone else or himself.
