In the face of the
industrialization of the 19th century, it seems like the role that
nature plays in Romantic and Victorian poetry serves a greater purpose than as
a mere source for metaphorical imagery. As people were forced into mind
crippling labor and demanding work hours (as this account of an industrial
blanket manufacturer reveals: http://www.victorianweb.org/history/workers1.html) one can’t help but notice that nature acts as a
life-giving force, a living organism that strives to keep people’s humanity in
tact, where as industrialization can be seen as inadvertently cutting people
off from the very thing that makes them human. In this sense, it seems that in spite
of these dramatic shifts in the world’s moral and economic values, that man,
through poetry, has come to appreciate nature even more, providing hope in the
face of not only industrialization, but in the face of grief and uncertainty
that comes along with it as well.
Nature,
as Athanasia suggests in their blog post about “We Are Seven” by William
Wordsworth, is a unifying force and comfort for the poem’s “little Maid.” As
she contemplates the loss of two of her seven siblings, she is convinced that
their lineage is still in tact, saying, “Seven boys and girls are we; / Two of
us in the church-yard lie, / Beneath the church-yard tree.” But despite this
faith in her spiritual connection to the dead, there are nevertheless
detractors (possibly symbolizing advocates for industrialization) that try to
bring her spirit down to their rational bodily level, claiming, “You run about,
my little maid, / Your limbs they are alive; If two are in the church-yard
laid, / Then ye are only five.” The little maid is nevertheless perseverant in
the connection and comfort she takes from her relationship with nature. By
refusing to reduce the number of her siblings from seven to five, she is
refusing to give into the mindset of industrialization that puts so much stock
into the strength of their bodily labor, and more significantly, refusing to
give into cynicism about death. No matter how much people try to convince her
that her siblings, or nature, is dead, the more adamant she becomes with her
claim, “Nay, we are seven!” Death is
not the end for the “little Maid” like it is for industrialization, because she
knows that life goes on in nature. For Wordsworth, nature exposes human pain,
but it is in embracing that pain and in making it your own that nature also
becomes a part of the self, as seen in comparisons to Samuel Taylor Coleridge (http://www.victorianweb.org/previctorian/ww/nature5.html).
This concept of embracing pain concurs with the “little maid” as well, as she
describes the death of her sister Jane, in which instead of mourning, perceives
that “God released her of her pain.” The remaining siblings even celebrate her
life afterwards, as she reflects on how “Together round her grave we played, /
My brother John and I.” Even though their bodies are gone, “Their spirits are
in heaven,” not in the ground.
Another poet that
revels in the serenity and peace of nature is William Blake. For Blake however,
nature is aligned with human innocence. The imagery in “The Echoing Green” for
example, is completely attuned with the joy that can be derived from human
interaction with nature. This sense of interaction is evident right off the
bat, as Blake writes in the first line that, “The Sun does arise, / And make
happy the skies. / The merry bells ring / To welcome the Spring.” Just as it is
for humans in their state of innocence, the narrator’s perspective is more of
an up-look rather than a downcast glance to nature. The narrator sees open
possibility and never ending consolation that comes from the impression that
nature has left on his senses. The sense of comfort that Blake conveys comes
solely from his use of natural imagery, as “Old John with white hair / Does
laugh away care, / Sitting under the oak.” The simple fact that Old John’s
cares are carried away from sitting under an oak speaks to what nature can do
for human grief. However, the ending of “The Echoing Green” can best be
represented by Thomas Jones’ painting entitled “The Bard.”
Just
as “The Bard” portrays the sun setting on nature, so does Blake end “The
Echoing Green” with “ [Sport] no more seen, / On the darkening Green.” The
green is “darkening” as innocence is taken away, right along with human
connection to nature.
Another
major example of how the poet’s connection to nature faces up to the Goliath of
industrialization and grief is in William Butler Yeats’ poem “The Lake Isle of
Innisfree.” Nature is alive and humming all throughout the poem, as the poet
contemplates living near “the bee-loud glade” where, “Dropping from the veils
of the morning […] the cricket sings.” The poets state of mind, the hold that
nature has on his spirit, seems to be a part of him no matter where he goes,
even as he “[Stands] on the roadway, or on the pavement grey” that modern
industrialization has put under his feet. In a commentary about Yeats, critic
C. Stuart Hunter talks about the similarities that the poet has to Henry David
Thoreau’s view of nature, writing, “[…] in retreat to the island of Innisfree is
a journey in search of poetic wisdom and spiritual peace, a journey prompted by
supernatural urgings, a journey in quest of identity within a tradition.” For
Yeats, nature is an elixir for human grief, but it is also more; it is the
solution to wisdom. It is a way to fit into the tradition left by the Romantics
and the Victorians, an avenue for opening up to the realization of something
bigger that human beings must chase after if it is ever to be fully grasped.
Rather than attaching his happiness to the expectations of civilization, Yeats
longs to find it with in himself, with the help of the natural phenomenon that
constantly surrounds him.
However,
the greatest examples of how nature can affect the spirit and outlooks of human
beings remain in the works of John Keats. In “When I have Fears that I May
Cease to Be” the fears that Keats holds about his mortality are put in
perspective, as he claims “When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face, /Huge
cloudy symbols of a high romance.” The only place that Keats feels he can look
to for comfort, more than human relationships, or perhaps because of them, is
the sky; the ultimate symbol of serenity, for even when there are
thunderstorms, lighting, or darkness, the sky is still the sky, unchanging and
calm. It is as if Keats steals his idea of negative capability from the sky
itself. As critic Jacob D. Wigwod writes, “Keats would see into the heart of
things, ‘into the heart and nature of Man’ […] This means to him, as it does to
Shakespeare, the maintaining of an open mind, a capacity for change and an
aversion to forming comfortable- but in reality unsatisfying – resolutions and
philosophies.” For if the sky represents the ultimate symbol of an open mind,
then Keats can be seen to take from the sky all that he needs to obtain “a
capacity for change,” even in the face of constant uncertainty and fear.
Moreover, when Keats thinks about the clouds in the sky, and how he “may never
live to trace / Their shadows, with a magic hand of chance;” his solution is
not to go against the tide of nature, but to disappear into it, as he finally
resolves accept his fate, saying, “Of the wide world I stand alone, and think /
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.” Still, this sentiment is probably
best expressed by John Martin’s painting of “The Last Man”.
Just
as the sky is overcast, dark and bleak, “The Last Man” doesn’t fight against
it. He stands tall, with his arms outstretched, as if saying goodbye to the
setting sun, embracing the fate that Keats holds to be so fearful. His
personality disappears into nature, giving him a selfless purpose in a world
that is slowly but surely being over come by industrial self-interest.
Ultimately,
the wisdom to take from the minds of the Romanic and Victorian era is simple:
The pursuit of wealth leads to industrialization, while the pursuit of
happiness leads to nature. It is through poetry that the invisible magnetic
bonds that bind our souls to nature become visible, true, and sustained. And
while the fate of our lives can be sometimes consumed with grief and
uncertainty, it is when we connect with our surroundings that personal fears
begin to wither away, because only then do we begin to understand that we are a
part of something bigger, a larger whole more timeless than ourselves.
Works
Cited
1.
Hunter, C. Stuart. “Return to ‘la bonne vaux’: The
Symbolic Significant of Innisfree” Modern Language Studies, Vol. 14, No
3 (Summer, 1984), pp. 70-81.
- Wigod, Jacob D. “Negative Capability and Wise Passiveness” PMLA, Vol. 67, No. 4 (Jun., 1952), pp. 383-390. Modern Language Association
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