Final Paper

Andrew Marvell, Renaissance poet, is a good read for many reasons: his work is lyrical, witty, and rife with captivating imagery. However what I found most interesting about his poetry is, as Stephen Greenblatt explains in “The Norton Anthology of English Literature”:

Many of Marvell’s poems explore the human condition in terms of fundamental dichotomies that resist resolution. In religious or philosophical poems like “The Coronet”… the conflict is between nature and grace, or body and soul, or poetic creation and sacrifice. In love poems such as “The Definition of Love”… it is often between flesh and spirit or physical sex and platonic love, or idealizing courtship and the ravages of time. In the pastorals like the Mower poems and “The Garden,” the opposition is between nature and art, or the fallen and the Edenic state, or violent passion and contentment. (676)

In this paper I would like to explore some of those dichotomies, and their origin in the time period in which Marvell was writing.  

To begin, here’s a brief background on Marvell. He was born near the city of Kingston upon Hull to an English clergyman. He was educated at Cambridge. His family was Protestant, although he converted to Roman Catholicism for a spell. He travelled quite a bit (France, Italy, Holland, and Spain) before settling in Nunappleton to tutor Thomas Fairfax’s daughter and later Cromwell’s ward William Dutton. He then involved himself in politics, and was a Member of Parliament for almost 20 years. He was friends with Milton, and helped him avoid execution using his political connections.  His work was not well known while he was alive, and most of it was published posthumously by a woman who claimed to be his wife but was probably his housekeeper.

Let us first take a look at the conflict between body and soul. Throughout the Renaissance era, literature was often concerned with the human soul. One of the reasons for this was that during the 14th and 15th centuries there was a widespread revival of religious fervor, which reached a climax in the Reformation of the 16th century. Both Catholic and Protestant reform movements focused more attention on the nature and spiritual health of the soul. 

In the Elizabethan portrait above (artist unknown), the image of death awaiting burial lies above a text that reads "LYVE: TO: DYE: AND: DYE. TO. LYVE, ETARNALLY." The meaning is simple: humankind is born to die, but through death of the body, we find eternal life in the soul. In terms of the relationship between the body and the soul, we can say that death is liberation of the soul through the cessation of the body’s desires.

The source for this picture and reading of it can be found here.

Thus it was at this time that the conflict between the two entities really came into focus. Roy Porter writes in Flesh in the Age of Reason: “A human being, [Christian] doctrines explained, was a compound of two distinctive elements, soul and flesh”. This duality of “soul and flesh” shaped Western thought and literature for centuries.  Many Renaissance authors such as John Donne and Margaret Cavendish took up this theme, and believed that the soul was more important, and superior to, the body. As Sutton puts it in his essay “Soul and Body in Seventeenth-Century British Philosophy, “debate about the soul was one of the most controversial of all topics in seventeenth-century philosophy because of its religious, moral, and political implications” (2). Religiously, of course, the soul was very important, as it supposedly lived on after the body died, and the Church took responsibility for it.

Marvell’s poem “A Dialogue Between Body and Soul” explores this conflict, or as the Norton Anthology puts it, the conflict between “nature and grace…or poetic creation and sacrifice.” This poem is one of Marvell’s more religious/philosophical poems, structured as a conversation between the body and the soul. It begins with the soul speaking. The soul complains that it is paradoxically imprisoned by the body:

“With bolts of Bones, that fetter'd stands

In Feet ; and manacled in Hands.

Here blinded with an Eye ; and there

Deaf with the drumming of an Ear.

A Soul hung up, as 'twere, in Chains

Of Nerves, and Arteries, and Veins.” 

But it is not only enslaved by the body, it is also tortured: “Tortur'd, besides each other part,/In a vain Head, and double Heart.” In the third stanza, the soul goes on to wonder what magic has been able to confine it within another’s grief, that it feels whatever the body suffers. The body responds, saying “O who shall me deliver whole From bonds of this tyrannic soul?...[which] Has made me live to let me die.” In the fourth stanze, the body laments that the soul has forced all manner of psychological suffering on it:

“First the Cramp of Hope does Tear:

And then the Palsie Shakes of Fear.

The Pestilence of Love does heat :

Or Hatred's hidden Ulcer eat.

Joy's chearful Madness does perplex:

Or Sorrow's other Madness vex.”

Thus the soul and the body are entrapped by each other. Although the poem derives from the medieval debate between body and soul, it interestingly alters the usual ending which gives a clear victory to the soul, instead ending without a clear sense of victory on either side. Marvell’s suggestion, therefore, is probably that there is a continual struggle between the body and the soul. This idea could have been an attempt to reconcile growing humanism with a millennium of medieval theology.

Next, I would like to explore the set of dichotomies that exist in love: the conflict between sexual and platonic love, between idealized courtship and the unrelenting nature of time, and between perfect love and love that can never be achieved. Much of the literature arising out of the Renaissance was about love – love of women (or of men, by the handful of woman writers), children, nature, God, etc. Love, of course, is a theme which spans the limits of time, space, social class, and gender, and so it makes sense that poems on love were so prolific. A lot of the literature on love showed in this time period conflict between sexual and platonic love, probably because of the conflict between spiritual and physical desires. Spiritual, or platonic love was generally thought of as the superior of the two kinds (Donne’s A Valediction Forbidding Mourning was on this theme), but sexual, Ovidian, or Petrarchan love was also written about quite frequently. The relation of time to courtship was frequently exploited by male writers whilst cajoling women to “sport” with them, and the carpe diem theme was also quite popular during this time. On both these counts Robert Herrick’s poem ”To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time” is quite similar to Marvell’s well-known poem “To His Coy Mistress.” 

In “To His Coy Mistress,” Marvell explores the conflict between a long, drawn out courtship and the reality that there is not enough time to do his mistress justice. He first tells her that if he had enough time

“An hundred years should go to praise

[her] eyes, and on [her] forehead gaze;

Two hundred to adore each breast,

But thirty thousand to the rest;

An age at least to every part,

And the last age should show [her] heart.”

However, he says he is always conscious of time hurrying him towards “deserts of vast eternity” where her “beauty shall no more be found,” i.e. although he would love to draw out the courtship of his mistress, time forces him to speed it up. He then threatens that she will die a virgin (“In thy marble vault…worms shall try/that long-preserved virginity”). Upon the heels of that appalling image, he once again coaxes his unnamed mistress to “sport” while she is still young and beautiful, and while her willing soul “transpires/At every pore with instant fires.”

While “To His Coy Mistress” is most certainly humorous and witty, and designedly so, it also clearly explores the dichotomy between a perfect courtship and the imperfect haste in which time forces one to woo a lady. This contract between imperfect and perfect love is further explored in “The Definition of Love,” wherein Marvell describes a love so perfect it can never be truly realized. He says that he and his lover have “perfect” love for each other, but Fate does not allow them to be united, driving “iron wedges” between them. Hope itself cannot fly to such “divine” love. Marvell compares their love to parallel lines: infinite, but never intersecting. In fact, in this poem Marvell describes Love itself as a paradox, a dichotomy. He says that Love, which is supposed to be a beautiful and positive thing, “was begotten by Despair Upon Impossibility…[shown by]Magnanimous Despair.” 

Lastly, let’s look at the opposition between nature and man. In her review of Robert N. Watson’s article Back to Nature: The Green and the Real in the Late Renaissance, Elizabeth Spiller says that the Renaissance brought with it a “need to experience things in and as themselves,” and that materialism and forms of human perception were “key impediments to truth or knowledge.” Spiller goes on to explain that writers responded to the sense that man is an impediment to true knowledge by trying to return to a stable reality which has its origin in nature. Metaphysical poetry, then, is a “literary expressions of the Protestant argument that knowledge of God must come, unmediated, from within an individual believer” (Spiller). Nature, often portrayed as or compared to Eden, was contrasted with the violence of man and pressures of civilization in a lot of Renaissance writing.

Marvell’s poem “the Garden” shows this conflict. He extols the solitude found only in nature, comparing it to Eden:

“Such was that happy garden-state,

While man there walked without a mate…

But 'twas beyond a Mortal's share

To wander solitary there.”

Although on the surface this sounds like misogyny, at a deeper level it expresses “a loathing for the social nature of the human condition, which creates the longing for total withdrawal into contemplative solitude and also renders it impossible” (The Poetry Foundation). But nature is like Eden in other ways as well - this poem lends itself very nicely to an image of Eden bursting with fruit just waiting to be eaten:

“Ripe apples drop about my head;

The luscious clusters of the vine

Upon my mouth do crush their wine;

The nectarine and curious peach

Into my hands themselves do reach;

Stumbling on melons as I pass,

Insnared with flowers, I fall on grass.”

However, Marvell acknowledges that men engage in unceasing labor, toiling in vain to win honors, whether military, civic, or poetic. In the very first stanza, he says that nature reproves such efforts: “all flowers and all trees do close To weave the garlands of repose!” He says that he has foolishly looked among men for Quiet and Innocence, when they are in fact “among the plants,” if on earth at all. In this image of man and nature, there is a rift between happy seclusion and the reality of man’s life in the public sphere.ome, unmediated, from within an individual believer” (Spiller). Nature, often portrayed as or compared to Eden, was contrasted with the violence of man and pressures of civilization in a lot of Renaissance writing.

Dichotomies are not exclusive to Marvell’s work. Donne also demonstrates great skill in writing about conflicts that were very relevant during the Renaissance, such as the conflict between sexual and spiritual love. His poems  Elegy 19 and The Flea are addressed to a woman, and refer explicitly to them having sex, while his poems A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning  and Song focus on the impending separation from the object of his love, and how it will not weaken their bond as their love is so strong and pure. Donne also writes on the conflict of man and God. There are various instances where Donne seeks to be master over something: in The Sun Rising, he feels himself master of nature, and in Elegy 19, he seeks to be master of his mistress. However, in his Holy Sonnets, he writes on his inferiority to God. In Meditation 4, he says “Except God, Man is a diminutive to nothing.” Although he sees man as more complex and exquisite than the earth, he still sees God as more powerful than man.

Fundamental dichotomies can also be found in the work of Shakespeare.  For example, The Tempest has clear conflicts between civilization and the lack thereof in Prospero/Miranda and Caliban. King Lear shows tension between the young and the old, the clear and the disguised, flattery/ambition and purity of intention. Both plays also display the broader theme of good versus evil.

Marvell’s similarities to these two great authors (arguably the best known of the time period) shows that he is a very good representation of Renaissance literature. However, he is a supremely original and skilled poet in his own right. Although he wrote less than many of his contemporaries, all of his poems are polished to a degree of maturity that not even Donne shows (Alvarez 82-93).

Sources on Marvell that I found helpful or interesting: 

http://scenesofeating.com/2012/10/07/andrew-marvells-vegetable-love/ 

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/andrew-marvell

http://marvellsociety.wp.st-andrews.ac.uk/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andrew_Marvell

http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/304

http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/marvell/

http://impracticalcriticism.wordpress.com/2011/09/27/andrew-marvell-a-dialogue-between-the-soul-and-body/

Image sources:

http://marvellsociety.wp.st-andrews.ac.uk/

http://www.sebsteph.com/Professional/sebsportfolio/journals/renascent.htm

Works Cited

Alvarez, A. The School of Donne. New York, Toronto. The New American Library, 1967. Print.

"Andrew Marvell." Poetry Foundation.  Web. 10 May 2013. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/andrew-marvell

Greenblatt, Stephen, gen. ed. The Norton Anthology of English Literature. 9th ed. Vol. 
A. New York: Norton, 2012. Print.

Porter, Roy. Flesh in the Age of Reason. New York: Penguin Books, 2003. p. 18. Print.
“Renascent Semiotics: The Pragmatics of the Memento Mori in The Judd Memorial.” Web. 10 May 2013. http://www.sebsteph.com/Professional/sebsportfolio/journals/renascent.htm

Spiller, Elizabeth. "Back to Nature: The Green and the Real in the Late Renaissance." Shakespeare Quarterly 58.1 (2007): 125,127,139. ProQuest. Web. 10 May 2013.

Sutton, John. "Soul and Body in Seventeenth-Century British Philosophy." The Oxford Handbook of British Philosophy in the Seventeenth Century, Ed. Peter Anstey. Academia.edu. Web. May 10 2013. http://www.academia.edu/342409/Soul_and_Body_in_Seventeenth-Century_British_Philosophy

Milton

Book 1

Milton’s Satan is an interesting character. For one, he is treated like a protagonist for the first part of the work. Because of this literary approach, he is given some positive characteristics which one would not attribute to evil normally. For example, he is a master orator and also quite a skilled military leader. Even though he and his legions have been defeated, he somehow rallies them to stand again.

One character trait I thought was interesting was that despite the quasi-positive light shed on Satan, he is still controlled by God, which is an aspect we have seen in previous works as well (Donne especially): “so stretched out huge in length the Arch-fiend lay Chained on the burning Lake, nor ever thence Had risen or heaved his head, but that the will And high permission of all-ruling Heaven Left him at large to his own dark designs.”

Book 9

The Eve in Milton’s Book 9 contrasts the various versions of a 17th Century woman's identity in a few ways – Milton gives her a lot more power and character than a lot of male authors we’ve read tend to give women. For one, she has a lot more power over her husband than we’ve seen women to have in our previous readings – she is impetuous, opinionated, and forceful. We can see this from her persistence to work separately from Adam. Although he tries several times to convince her otherwise, she insists that they will achieve more if they are apart, and they will not be tempted by evil even though they are not together. Eventually she gets her way with Adam, and it doesn’t seem like he’s particularly upset about it. This seems unrealistic for a woman in Milton’s time – recalling Phillips’ poem A Married State, it seems like women didn’t have a lot of say in their relationships: “A married state affords but little ease/ The best of husbands are so hard to please.” Secondly, she possesses considerable power of reasoning, which we see employed when she is deciding whether or not to eat the fruit: “Great are thy Virtues, doubtless, best of Fruits. Though kept from Man, and worthy to be admired…Here grows the Cure of all, this Fruit Divine, Fair to the Eye, inviting to the Taste, Of virtue to make wise: what hinders then To reach, and feed at once both Body and Mind?” This aspect of women is rarely explored in the literature we have read previously; for the most part women are admired and written about for their beauty and charm. Third, she is selfishly in love with her husband: As she says, “Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe: So dear I love him, that with him all deaths I could endure, without him live no life.” Recalling Cavendish’s view of her husband and Phillips’ view of married life, it’s interesting how attached Eve is to Adam. It is also interesting that she is able to convince Adam so easily to taste the fruit; in fact, he more or less talks himself into it, citing the same reasons she does for sharing it with him: “if Death Consort with thee, Death is to me as Life; So forcible within my heart I feel The Bond of Nature draw me to my own.”

Lanyer

A lot of what we read of Aemilia Lanyer’s work was decidedly feminist, but I don’t know that I agree with her tactics. In fact, I found her brand of defence of women quite curious. She puts men down quite a bit, while contrasting them with shining instances of famous women, but the examples she uses are so exaggerated it’s hard to take her seriously. An example of this can be found in “To the Virtuous Reader” – “As was cruel Cesarus by the discreet counsel of noble Deborah, judge and prophetess of Israel: and resolution of Jael wide of Heber the Kenite: wicked Haman, by the divine prayers and prudent proceedings of beautiful Hester…” At the same time, Lanyer constantly apologizes for being a woman, and for the defects she must certainly have because of it. Underneath her hearty defense and protest it seems like she partially believes that women are weak and defective. In “To the Queen’s Most Excellent Majesty,” she asks the Queen to read her work “though it defective be,” describing herself as having a “weak distempered brain and feeble spirits [and] unworthy of grace.” She also asks all defects in woman to be excused, implying that there are defects that need to be apologized for.

This hypocritical attitude is further seen in “To the Virtuous Reader.” Lanyer says “in danger to be condemned by the words of their own mouths, fall into so great an error, as to speak unadvisedly against the rest of their sex; which if it be true, I am persuaded they can show their own imperfection in nothing more.” However, I argue that this is pretty much exactly what she does.  In “Eve’s Apology in Defense of Women,” Lanyer blames Adam for taking the apple from Eve, but she does so because she says Eve was weak and Adam was strong, and therefore the onus was on Adam: “what weakness offered, strength might have refused.”  She says that he has more to be sorry for (“the greater was his shame”), being “lord of all,” while Eve is less important somehow. Then she goes on to say that Adam lacked discretion. I found this back and forth defense hard to get on board with. I felt that it contrasts heavily with Cavendish, whose voice and opinion apologize for nothing. She even goes as far as to compare her imaginary conquests with those of men in the real world, whereas I feel Lanyer would have apologized ten times over before even getting to the point. But that might just be my reading.

Apart from theme and content, which I wasn’t a big fan of, I liked Lanyer’s writing style. Her use of rhyme and regular meter is easy to read. The gorgeous imagery she uses in some places reminded me of the style of Herrick and Marvell: in particular, in “The Description of Cookham” Lanyer’s lines “The trees with leaves, with fruits, with flowers clad, Embraced each other, seeming to be glad, Turning themselves to beauteous canopies, To shade the bright sun from your brighter eyes; The crystal streams with silver spangles graced, While by the glorious sun they were embraced; The little birds in chirping notes did sing, To entertain both you and that sweet spring. “

Cavendish and Phillips

What interested me about this week’s readings were the differences and similarities between the writing of men like Donne, Herrick, Marvell, etc., and that of female writers such as Phillips and Cavendish. Maybe it’s because I knew they were women so I was looking for it, but I found the differences and similarities in their writings very thought-provoking, especially because modern day poetry doesn’t generally display such distinctions.

The most obvious difference was theme. Donne, Herrick, and Marvell objectify women quite frequently, and cast them as objects of sexual or romantic love. As you would guess, Phillips and Cavendish do not. For example, In “To His Coy Mistress,” Marvell coaxes a woman not to be reserved, and to take advantage of her youth and “sport” while she can. Herrick and Donne also write a great deal about women: Herrick’s Upon the Loss of His Mistresses, The Vine, Delight in Disorder, To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time, Elegy 19 and The Flea have women as the prime focus. In contrast, Phillips writes delicate poems such as Friendship’s Mystery, To My Dearest Lucasia and To Mrs. M. A. At Parting, which extoll and celebrate friendships. Cavendish writes of things like her life in A True Relation of My Birth, Breeding, and Life, and The Blazing World, wherein she creates a new, parallel world.

I thought the Blazing World was interesting for a lot of reasons. It was very different from everything we’ve read so far this semester, and also one of the first things we’ve read by a woman. One thing I noticed was that in the Blazing World, the position of women in society was much more important. The empress unequivocally rules – “No sooner was the lady brought before the emperor, but he conceived her to be some goddess, and offered to worship her…and gave her absolute power to rule and govern all that world as she pleased.” The idea that the duchess should rule an entire world is acceptable as well.  I feel that the fact that Cavendish had to go as far as to “create” another world in order to be able to rule it shows how impossible it was at the time The Blazing World was written. At the end she compares her creation of the Blazing World and the Philosophical world with the conquests of Caesar etc., saying that her conquests are in some ways superior: “[the] creation was more easily and suddenly effected, than the conquests of the two famous monarchs of the world, Alexander and Caesar: neither have I made such disturbances, and caused so many dissolutions of particulars, otherwise named deaths, as they did; for I have destroyed but some few men.”

The Blazing World also brings up some interesting points about religion at the time. There’s not much religion in The Blazing World; in fact Cavendish goes as far as to disdain all religions and pointedly decides to create a new, unified one in her Blazing World. “I have made my Blazing World, a peaceable world, allowing it but one religion, one language, and one government.” This shows the lack of involvement of women in religion during this time period.

As far as style goes, Phillips is very flowery, which contracts with Donne and Marvell to an extent, but not so much Herrick. Cavendish was not so much so, in fact some of her poetry was very circuitous, reminiscent of Carew. So it would probably be a very sexist conclusion to say there is a definite difference between the style of male and female writing during this time period.

Andrew Marvell

This week, I was struck again by how easily the poetry of Andrew Marvell reads. His poems fit the layman’s definition of “poetry” in their regular rhyme scheme and meter (for example, “O let our voice his praise exalt, Till it arrive at heaven’s vault,” Bermudas). They are witty like Donne’s poems, but I found them much more accessible, which to be honest is something I really appreciate in poetry.

What I found extremely interesting about Marvell's poetry is summed up in a line in the Norton Anthology’s introduction of Marvell: “Many of Marvell’s poems explore the human condition in terms of fundamental dichotomies that resist resolution.” It goes on to describe how all of the poems assigned for this week’s reading display these fundamental dichotomies.

“The Dialogue Between Soul and Body” is a religious/philosophical poem, and it talks about the conflict between body and soul (obviously), or as the Norton Anthology puts it, between “nature and grace…or poetic creation and sacrifice.” The form of the poem itself reflects this conflict: it is a conversation, almost, that goes back and forth between the body and the soul. The soul complains that it is paradoxically imprisoned by the body: “With bolts of bones, that fettered stands In feet, and manacled in hands. Here blinded with an eye, and there Deaf with the drumming of an ear; A soul hung up, as ‘twere, in chains Of nerved, and arteries, and veins; Tortured, besides each other part, In a vain head and double heart.” The body responds, saying “O who shall me deliver whole From bonds of this tyrannic soul?...[which] Has made me live to let me die.” Thus the soul and the body are entrapped by each other, and the poem ends without a clear sense of victory on either side.

Marvell also explores the dichotomies that exist in love: sexual and platonic love, idealized courtship and the unrelenting nature of time. In “To His Coy Mistress,” Marvell first described this idealized courtship: “Had we but world enough, and time…An hundred years should go to praise Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze; Two hundred to adore each breast, But thirty thousand to the rest: An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart.” He then turns to time: “But at my back I always hear Time’s winged chariot hurrying near.” What Marvell is saying is that although he would love to draw out the courtship of his mistress, time forces him to speed it up, and he encourages her to “sport while [they] may.” In “The Definition of Love,” Marvell described Love itself as a paradox, a contradiction. He says that Love, which is supposed to be a beautiful and positive thing, “was begotten by Despair Upon Impossibility.” Although there may be “two perfect loves,” Fate does not allow them to be united, driving “iron wedges” between them.

The poem “The Garden” shows the opposition between nature and man. The very first stanza sets up this theme: Marvell says that men toil in vain, while nature reproves them: “all flowers and all trees do close To weave the garlands of repose!” He says that he has foolishly looked among men for Quiet and Innocence, when they are in fact “among the plants,” if on earth at all. He extols the beauty found only in nature, comparing it to Eden: “Such was that happy garden-state, While man there walked without a mate.”

After reading Marvell’s poetry, I began to look for dichotomies in other works, and found that they are not difficult to locate. Shakespeare’s Tempest has clear conflicts between civilization (Prospero, Miranda) and the lack thereof (Caliban). King Lear shows tension between the old and the young. Both plays also have the broader theme of good versus evil. John Donne, like Marvell, explores the conflicts between platonic and sexual love, and romantic love and love of God. 

Herrick, Vaughn, and Herbert

Reading the poetry of Herrick, Vaughn, and Herbert, I was struck most by how mellifluous they are in comparison to other writers. Although the poetry of Donne, Bacon, Jonson, and other writers we have discussed no doubt displays uncommon skill, the focus with their poems is much more idealistic, didactic, and religious compared with the poetry of Herrick, Vaughn, and Herbert. The language of the latter poets is much more accessible as well. I was most able to engage with the poetry of Herrick, and truly enjoyed many of his poems.

As I’ve said already, what most struck me about Herrick’s work is the words, the simply gorgeous imagery that he uses in almost every poem. Lines such as “The dew bespangling herb and tree” (Corinna’s Going A-Maying), and “The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun” (To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time), and the entirety of the poem “Upon the Nipples of Julia’s Breast” display a mastery of use of stunning imagery that I have not previously seen. His work brings to mind the sonnets of Shakespeare, which similarly use imagery and beautifully written verse (Sonnet 18: Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day? comes to mind). It seems fitting that Herrick titled his book Hesperides, implying that his poems are golden apples. But his poems are not merely pretty words – they are spirited, full of a playful, forward moving energy that I did not find in Donne’s poems, which although similar thematically, I feel are more restless in nature.

I felt that Herrick’s poems were most similar to Donne’s. Both poets are very blunt, very daring, and they address similar themes. For example, both Herrick and Donne write a great deal about women: Upon the Loss of His Mistresses, The Vine, Delight in Disorder, To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time, etc. have women as the prime focus, and objectify them in the way that Donne does in poems such as Elegy 19 and The Flea. The Vine especially reminded me of Donne’s Elegy 19, although again, the imagery in The Vine is much more delicate and much prettier than Donne’s. Another instance of similarity in daring I found between The Bad Season Makes the Poet Sad and Donne’s Sonnet 10, where they are both speaking judgmentally of powers greater than themselves. Of course, Herrick’s bold statement is political where Donne’s is a defiance of Death, but I felt the tone was similar. Even the structure of the two poems is somewhat comparable. The Bad Season ends with words of enlightenment and exaltation, with a brief mention of death: “…head with Roses crowned, And once more yet (ere I am laid out dead) Knock at a star with my exalted head.” Donne’s Sonnet 10 ends with the idea that despite Death, eventually he will attain salvation (comparable to enlightenment and exaltation).

A few last observations: besides these thematic similarities with Donne, I found that the Carpe Dium theme seemed quite pervasive (besides the focus on women). In Corinna’s Going A-Maying, Herrick says “Our life is short, and our days run/As fast away as does the sun.” To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time is an excellent example of this theme as well – the whole poem is about how time is fleeting, and to make use of youth and time while one still has it. Although this might be a bit of a generalization, I also felt that Herrick’s poetry was almost free from idealism. For example, Bacon’s poetry is rife with idealizations of virtues: "On Truth," “Of Marriage and Single Life,” and “Of Superstition” show this plainly. Where Bacon expounds on the virtue of being truthful, or the preference of atheism over superstition, Herrick simply describes things as they are, without judgment even if they are imperfect (such as in Delight in Disarray: a “disorder in the dress” is called sweet).

Ben Jonson

One of the aspects of the 17th Century which Jonson satirizes is greed. His play Volpone is obviously a satire on avarice in all of its various forms. This is plain from the story line distilled even to its most basic elements: Volpone’s compulsive acquisitiveness which drives him to plot to possess the wealth of his peers and the wife of Corvino, and the desire of the legacy hunters (and ultimately Mosca as well) to possess Volpone’s wealth. In the play, the goals of all the main characters are corrupt and self-serving, and pursuing them ultimately leads to dishonor and destruction. Jonson attempts to show that these men who “possess wealth, as sick men possess fevers.”

At the start of the play, Volpone is the instrument of Jonson’s satire. Early on, he himself states Jonson’s thesis: “What a rare punishment Is avarice to itself.” Through the actions of Volpone, Jonson shows how true this statement is. Avarice has led Voltore, Corbaccio, and Corvino to mindlessly flatter him and make poor decisions that will harm them in the long run. Ironically, their greed not only strips them of dignity, but also loses them the one thing they most coveted: Volpone’s fortune (which, of course, has been acquired through dishonest means as well, simply to satisfy Volpone’s insatiable, perverse greed). Later, however, Volpone becomes victim to his greed, and in turn is ridiculed by Jonson. Unsatisfied with the material gains he has gotten from Voltore, Corbaccio, and Corvino, he wishes to sleep with Celia and plots his own death just to play a prank on the three legacy hunters. However, these actions have dire consequences for Volpone. He so entangles himself in a web of lies that his lies emerge into the public sphere as a reality distorted by greed, with the result that he ultimately loses his fortune and honor just as he stripped fortune and honor from Voltore, Corbaccio, and Corvino.

It seems that Jonson saw a lack of a sense of social responsibility in the society around him, and saw his role as providing insight into the social problems that plagued society of the 17th century. To do this, he tried to approach these problems through literature, putting the complexities of life in such a way that they could be understood by general society. The play Volpone explores the impact unrestrained self-interest, abuse of privilege, and pursuit of wealth have on society: it crumbles, and ultimately those who personify such abhorrent vices much be punished.

We can see Jonson’s viewpoint through innocent characters such Celia and Bonario. Bonario rescues Celia from the advances of Volpone, and represents virtues that most of the other characters lack such as integrity and bravery. In Act III, Celia exclaims “Oh, God and his good angels! Whither, whither Is shame fled human breasts? That with such ease, Men dare put off your honours and their own? Is that, which ever was a cause of life, Now placed beneath the basest circumstance? And modesty an exile made, for money?” What Celia is effectively saying that even love, which creates life, is now valued less than money and material gain. Through Celia, Jonson censures such actions, as well as the society which has made such greed a primary concern.

Sources:

http://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2003/06/volp-j24.html

Bacon and Hobbes

On scanning King Lear and the works of John Donne in light of the writing of Sir Francis Bacon, there are several notable connections that arise, showing that such literature was indeed influenced by the non-fiction schools of thought circulating at the time.

One of these connections can be found between Shakespeare’s King Lear and Bacon’s essay "On Truth." In King Lear, the plot is advanced by pitting truth and falsehood against each other, with the implicit understanding that truth is good and falsehood, evil. We see this struggle in the very first scene of the play, when King Lear is deciding how to divide his kingdom. Both Reagan and Goneril lie about their regard for their father, using obsequious and flowery speech to convince him that they hold him in much higher esteem than is actually true. Cordelia, on the other hand, is unable to flatter her father with lies (because of her moral character), and tells him in simple, straightforward speech of her true feelings for him. Later, Edmund lies about his brother Edward, convincing his father that the latter does not have his best wishes at heart, so that he may inherit his title and fortune despite being a bastard. All the evil that follows these first few scenes arises, essentially, from these lies. There is much suffering for everyone involved, but ultimately, good and truth triumph.

This understanding of truth is one that is spiritedly stressed in Bacon's essay "On Truth." Bacon is surprised by the fact that people are attracted to lies, and averse to truth. He says that there is no excuse for lies in everyday life – the only reasonable explanations for lies are when poets lie to make their writing interesting, or when businessmen lie for profit (“what should be in it, that men should love lies; where neither they make for pleasure, as with poets, nor for advantage, as with the merchant; but for the lie's sake”). Bacon calls the inquiry, knowledge, and belief of truth “the sovereign good of human nature.” In fact, he sees lying as one of the most shameful acts a man can commit: “there is no vice, that doth so cover a man with shame, as to be found false and perfidious.” Thus, there is an obvious connection between Bacon’s essay and King Lear: Bacon sees lying as extremely wrong and destructive, and this notion is manifested in the tragedy of King Lear, that takes place, at a basic level, because of the lies of the immoral characters. This understanding of truth is also seen in the ultimate fate of the lying characters in King Lear: Bacon says that lying is the height of wickedness, and that it will incur the wrath of God, and indeed, the fates of Goneril, Reagan, and Edmund can be interpreted as such.

Another connection can be found between the Holy Sonnets of John Donne and Bacon’s essays “Of Marriage and Single Life” and “Of Superstition.” In Donne’s Holy Sonnet 17 he says that it is good his wife is dead, because now he has more time and attention to give to God. This sentiment echoes Bacon’s idea that “he that hath wife and children hath given hostages to fortune; for they are impediments to great enterprises,” and that “the best works, and of greatest merit for the public, have proceeded from the unmarried or childless men.” Bacon says “a single life doth well with churchmen,” because they, like Donne after his wife dies, have nothing to distract them from complete devotion to God.

It is interesting to note that in his essay “Of Superstition,” Bacon says that it is better to be an atheist than to have an “unworthy” opinion of, or imperfect relationship with, God. Bacon says that at least “atheism leaves a man to sense, to philosophy, to natural piety, to laws, to reputation,” but superstition precludes the possibilities of all these moral virtues, and thus atheism is preferable. Donne, although he similarly feels that one should have a “worthy” relationship with God, does not see an imperfect relationship as a reason to renounce God completely. In Holy Sonnets 7 and 14 especially, he beseeches God to help him become a better man, that he may allow God into his heart and be judged favorably on Judgment Day.

John Donne - Holy Sonnets & Meditations

John Donne’s Holy Sonnets and his Devotions show an engagement with God that was absent from the other poems of his that we have read. Where his Song and Sonnets and Elegies are mainly about love and lust, his Holy Sonnets and Devotions demonstrate an immersion into religion: in these there are various references to God (or the Trinity), the Church, and the idea of Heaven, or eternal life.

In Donne’s previous poems, we saw various instances where he sought to be master over something: in The Sun Rising, he feels himself master of nature (“I could eclipse and cloud [thy beams] with a wink”), and in Elegy 19, he seeks to be master of his mistress (“O my America! My new-found-land, my kingdom…”). Although he retains some of this superiority in his Holy Sonnets and Meditations, Donne sees God as superior to himself (and all of mankind): “Thou hast made me,” he says in Sonnet 1. This is also clear in his Meditation 4, where he says “Except God, Man is a diminutive to nothing.” Although he sees man as more complex and exquisite than the earth, he still sees God as more powerful than man. It is this belief in God’s power that allows him to address Death boldly as he does in Sonnet 10: he says Death is not “mighty or dreadful” as some would say. Instead Donne compares Death to rest and sleep, saying that Death is but “one short sleep,” after which the dead will awake and have eternal life, and Death will “die” (no longer exist).

In this vein, we can also say that Donne sees himself as imperfect in comparison to God, and he beseeches Him to “teach [him] how to repent,” and to give him time to do so on earth before Judgment Day (Sonnet 7). He asks God to “batter [his] heart” as if it was the gate of a captured town; he says that he labors to admit God into his heart, but that he needs His help to do it, as he is “betrothed” to his enemy (Sonnet 14). Despite this self-perceived sinful nature, however, Donne longs for a relationship with God. In Sonnet 14, he says “dearly I love you…Take me to you, imprison me, for I, Except you enthrall me, never shall be free, Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me,” essentially saying that he cannot be happy or free unless God takes possession of his heart and enchants him.

Donne’s relationship with the Church (as an extension of his relationship with God) is also explored in these poems and Meditations. In Sonnet 18, Donne addresses Christ in regard to His spouse, the Church, and begs for religious satisfaction by being allowed to “court” the Church. In Meditation 17 especially, we see Donne’s complex relationship with the Church: he sees it as a universal establishment which connects all men (“No man is an island”). Just as each clod of dirt is a part of Europe, so too is each man a part of the entire human race. Because of this connection, Donne says that in some sense, when the funeral bell tolls for one person, it tolls for everyone: “never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee” (Meditation 17).

John Donne - Songs and Sonnets & Elegies

In The Flea, Donne displays his skill in turning even a tiny insect into a symbol of love and romance. The poem is lighthearted and witty – indeed, the central theme is that a mere flea could represent a “marriage bed and marriage temple.” The poem never explicitly refers to sex, but it is clear that that is what the poem is refers to – the speaker is trying to convince his loved one to engage in premarital sex, saying that it will be completely innocuous and blameless.

In Song, Donne’s attitude towards love is sweeter: instead of a focus on the sexual, physical aspect of romance, he talks of the separation from his love, and how it will not weaken their bond. He says he is not leaving “for weariness” of his beloved, nor is he looking for a “fitter love.” In fact, he compares his departure from her to death. He compares his fidelity to the dependability of the sun - just as it rises every day, so can his lover trust that he will return to her.

Canonization is significantly more complex than the first two poems. Donne’s speaker is sardonic and yet innocently defends love, witty and yet completely love struck. The title refers to the process by which people are inducted into the canon of saints – giving it a spiritual feel even though the poem is a very logical, worldly defence of love. The speaker defends his love affair in this poem, saying that it does not hurt anyone (similar to his sentiments in The Flea, although in this poem they are directed not to his beloved, but to anyone who would criticize his love).

It appears after Elegy 19, however, that Donne has a change of heart towards love. This poem is playful and very erotic. It focuses solely on the physical aspect of love, and describes in detail the desire the speaker feels for his mistress and her body. The poem is very straightforward in what it is about; however even in this heightened state of excitement, the speaker retains his capacity for wit, calling himself a soldier waiting for battle.

In A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning the speaker describes the nature of a more spiritual love. In the light of impending separation from his beloved, he tells her that their physical separation can be transcended by their spiritual connection. He says that their two souls are one, and that therefore being separated will only increase the area of their one soul, as opposed to creating a distance between them.

Thus on the whole I feel that it is hard to discern a continuous trend of emotion in these poems, at least read in this order. They go from playful to sweet to sardonic to erotic to vaguely spiritual. I feel that the poems can be grouped into three types: The Flea and Elegy 19 focus on the physical act of love, Song is about the bittersweetness of separation from a loved one, and Canonization and A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning have a spiritual bent to them. Alternatively, Canonization can be grouped with Song in its sweet defence of love, and A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning can be grouped with Song since it is also about separation from his beloved.

The Tempest

A cursory reading of The Tempest seems to give the impression that Caliban is, indeed, a monster. In fact, Shakespeare establishes him as a monster fairly early in the play: Miranda and Prospero repeatedly call him a monster in Act 1. Prospero tells us that Caliban’s mother, the witch Sycorax, was a “hag,” and that Caliban himself was “a freckled whelp hag-born, not honour'd with a human shape.” This implies that Sycorax was not human, and therefore neither is Caliban. Prospero also claims that when Caliban was younger, he gave him “human care,” which implies that Prospero does not think him worthy of receiving such treatment. Trinculo and Stefano describe Caliban as less than human: Trinculo asks if he is "a man or a fish," and Stephano calls him a "moon-calf." Thus at face value, Caliban can unequivocally be thought of as a monster.

However, all the evidence that casts Caliban as a monster comes from the other characters speech (as there isn’t much else in a play). On closer inspection of this speech, it seems that the way the characters talk about Caliban reflects the attitude European colonizers had towards the natives during the time this play was written. Most of the characters in the play are of European descent; Caliban, on the other hand, was born of Sycorax, who was a native of Algiers. This could be an explanation for why he seemed a creature apart from them.  His skin color would have been different – this possibility is supported by the fact that his name is so similar to the Romany word "Cauliban," which means "black" or something associated with blackness.  His speech would have been very different as well: Miranda states that before the play, Caliban gabbled "like / A thing most brutish," which suggests that he may have known a language – it simply was not English. He calls the language Prospero taught him “your” language, also indicating that he could have had his own language before English was forced on him (in the way that English was forced on natives when the Europeans settled in a new place). Thus the treatment of Caliban in the Tempest can be taken as a reflection of the way Europeans treated non-white races at the time.

On looking through the play again, there is actually evidence to be found that Caliban is, in fact, a human. Stephano and Trinculo describe him as having arms, legs, and eyes in his head, implying that he does at least have a humanoid form. He does not appear to have magic, reducing the possibility that he is descended from a real (non-human) “witch” or that he is a spirit of the island like Ariel. The fact that he is able to articulate human reasoning for even his animalistic behavior (such as trying to rape Miranda – he wanted to “people the island with Calibans”) shows that though he may be strange and disturbing at times, he may still be a human. In other words, if it looks like a human and talks like a human for the whole play, it probably is a human.

Ultimately, I believe that a successful argument can be made for either side. However, I personally lean towards the belief that Caliban is, in fact, human. I think that the portrayal of him by the characters as an animal with no sense of morality only further cements the audience’s understanding of him as a victim of colonization. Obviously, the play is not sympathetic to Caliban, because it was written from a European point of view; however, I think in this day and age Caliban very much deserves our understanding.

King Lear

Describe the significant tensions present in Shakespeare's King Lear.  Be sure to ground your insights with specific textual references.

The tensions in King Lear can be categorized into two broad types: tension between the impetuous youth and the (sometimes) wiser older generation, and sexual tension. In the course of the play, these tensions result in the breakdown of hierarchy and stability in the kingdom, and chaos ensues.

The tension between King Lear and his daughters forms the crux of the play. First the tension between the King and his daughter Cordelia is introduced: because she is unable to express her love for her father in words (“What shall Cordelia do? Love, and be silent…I am sure, my love's more richer than my tongue…I cannot heave my heart into my mouth”), he thinks she does not love him, and does not give her a share of his kingdom. Instead, he bequeaths it to his two other daughters, Goneril and Regan, who turn out to be scheming and ungrateful. Immediately after he so generously gives them his kingdom, they resolve to strip him of his remaining power (“let's hit together: if our father carry authority with such dispositions as he bears, this last surrender of his will but offend us.”). Both Goneril and Regan blame his old age for his behavior, calling it the “infirmity of his age” and expecting more such “unruly waywardness that infirm and choleric years bring with them.” This description of the king (who as far as we know has always had a weakness for flattery, and therefore we cannot call it senility) shows the disrespect the youth in this play have for the older generation; later, even Edmund calls the king “old and miserable.”

Of course, Edmund being a villain, there is also tension between him and his father, the Earl of Gloucester. Edmund was born out of wedlock, and although Gloucester calls him his son, there is some awkwardness between them on this point: Gloucester calls him a “whoreson,” and says he has “so often blush'd to acknowledge him,“ making it seem like he does not care for Edmund as he does for Edgar. Moreover, Edmund is bitter that it is Edgar who is Gloucester’s heir.  He schemes to make Edgar appear a traitor in his father’s eyes so that he will inherit his land, telling him  Edgar has said “sons at perfect age, and fathers declining, the father should be as ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue,” and that he intends to kill him. The audience, however, knows that it is actually Edmund that feels this way about his father, and about the older generation in general.

The sexual tension between Edmund and the two sisters Goneril and Regan is introduced later in the play, after the primary familial disagreements have been established. The competition for Edmund and his love causes the sisters to turn against each other: Regan tells Edmund “I never shall endure her: dear my lord, be not familiar with her.” While Goneril resolves that she would “rather lose the battle than that sister should loosen him and me.” Ultimately, this tension causes Goneril to poison Regan and then kill herself in the final scene, leaving the kingdom in disorder.

Tensions between lesser characters reflect the major tensions in the play. For example, the tension between Kent and Oswald is a reflection of the tension between the King and his two older daughters.