Part 3: Paragraph-length analyses based on identified passages (70 points)

Rhythm and Sound (Meter)

All words in any language have stressed (more accentuated) and unstressed (less accentuated) syllables. When poetry uses these stressed and unstressed syllables in a regular pattern, we call that pattern the meter. A meter is something like a regular beat in music. Since multi-syllabic words in the English language tend to alternate stressed and unstressed syllables when we pronounce them, the iamb (unstressed syllable followed by stressed one) is an extremely common kind of beat. Lots of British poets who write using a regular meter (most notably, Shakespeare) write in iambic pentameter, or lines made up of five iambs (i.e., lines of ten syllables, with beats on every other syllable). Blank verse refers to unrhymed iambic pentameter lines. Wordsworth's "Tintern Abbey" is an example of a blank verse poem. But many nineteenth-century poets write more with the rhythms of popular, melodic music in mind, which means that they tend to write lines with only four beats, or ballad meter, such as "Tyger, Tyger, burning bright" or "Ring around the Rosy" or "I have a boy of five years old." Many twentieth- and twenty-first-century poets write in free verse. Free verse means that a poem has no regular meter or rhyme. Like this one. Having trouble hearing the beats in a poem that looks like it might have them (i.e., it looks there's regularity to the length of the lines)? --Read the poem aloud and think how you'd stress the syllables. --As a general rule, articles (a, an, the) are rarely stressed --If stumped, check a dictionary to figure out how the stresses occur in multisyllabic words.

Rhythm and Sound (Other important sound terms)

Alliteration is a succession of repeated consonant sounds, such as the "r" sounds in "A river runs through rain." Assonance is a succession of repeated vowel sounds, such as the "ow" sounds in "How now brown cow" or the "oo" sounds in "Through the blue night grew the mule."

Rhythm and Sound (Rhyme)

Rhyme, or the repetition of similar or identical or nearly matching sounds, can also affect a sense of rhythm, usually by affecting the pacing. For example, notice how in example (ii) above the short, end-rhymed lines make the poem seem to bounce along.

RHYME

Rhyme refers to the repetition of similar or identical or nearly matching sounds, often just the final syllable of two or more words. Exact rhymes match sounds perfectly (i.e., bread and fed, or keys and breeze) while slant rhymes are words that seem like they should rhyme based on their sound and the poems' pattern of rhymes, and yet the rhyme doesn't quite work. For example, in the following passage "sun" and "tongue" are slant rhymes while "dream" and "cream" are exact rhymes: I love the sun, I love to dream, I love your tongue, I love ice cream. There is also a form of slant rhyme know as a sight rhyme, which is when two words don't rhyme but look like they should, based on their similar spellings. For example, "move" and "love" are sight rhymes. Lines of poetry that rhyme at the end are called end-rhymed (such as in the example just above). Rhymes in which one or more of the rhyming words don't fall at the end of the line are called internal rhymes. Take the following example: The blue-winged owl sat through the night, and watched the light grey shrew take fright. In this example, "night" and "fright" are end rhymes while "through" and "shrew" and "light" and "fright" are internal rhymes. Masculine rhymes are when the final syllable of the rhymed word receives our vocal stress. For example, "night," "light," and "fright" in the example above are all masculine rhymes, as are "through" and "shrew." If you were to write a poem rhyming "untold" with "behold" or "'Cuse" with "amuse," these would also be masculine rhymes because the vocal stress in each case is on the final syllable. Feminine rhymes, conversely, are rhymes where the final syllable of the rhymed words do not receive our vocal stress. An example would be rhyming "promise" with "crevice" or "Poesy" with "be." Feminine rhymes tend to be harder to hear: they're sometimes called weak rhymes for that reason. A rhyme scheme refers to the pattern of end rhymes in a poem. To state a rhyme scheme, assign each rhyme a lower-case letter in the alphabet and record the pattern. For example, the rhyme scheme in the "I love the sun" poem above is abab (or, if you don't grant that sun-tongue is really a rhyme, then abcb). Consecutive lines that rhyme are called couplets. The line above about the owl is a couplet.

Northanger Abbey

Time Period: The Romantic Age Subject: The Rise of the Novel -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] Catherine Morland is a fairly unremarkable seventeen-year-old living in a small village, Fullerton, with her nine siblings and her parents. Fortunately for Catherine, this boring state of affairs only lasts one chapter. The Allens, a well-off childless couple, invite Catherine to visit tourist hot-spot Bath (a resort town in England) with them. Catherine is thrilled to get out of her dull town. But Catherine's views of life outside of her small town are highly colored by the romantic Gothic novels she reads, as well her own inexperience and naiveté. This leads to a lot of comedic mishaps during her time away from home. While in Bath, Catherine meets and befriends two families: the scheming Thorpes and the wealthy, educated Tilneys. She first meets the charming and witty Henry Tilney at a ball and quickly develops a huge crush on him. Luckily, Catherine also befriends Isabella Thorpe, so she has someone with whom to discuss her crush. Isabella and Catherine bond quickly and go on a spree of reading Gothic novels, gossiping, and attending balls. Isabella is also in love with Catherine's older brother James. And James is good friends with Isabella's older brother, John. So, naturally, the Thorpes decide that Catherine is the perfect match for John. They can all double date. John is, unfortunately (and hilariously), rude and overbearing. The Thorpe siblings spend their time manipulating both James and Catherine in order to ensure advantageous marriages for themselves. While the Morlands are certainly not rich, they do have more money than the Thorpes. Catherine remains largely oblivious to the Thorpe's schemes and tends to assume that everyone is as honest as herself and James. This leads to a whole series of comedic mishaps where the naive Catherine continually manages to extricate herself from situations orchestrated by the Thorpes. Despite John's ham-fisted attempts at wooing and Isabella's shrewd efforts at distraction, Catherine is still falling in love with the wealthy Henry Tilney. She also befriends his polite and quiet sister Eleanor, who is the polar opposite of the artificial Isabella. While Catherine grows closer to Henry, Isabella gets engaged to James. But, within a few days, Isabella meets the handsome Captain Tilney, Henry's older brother, and begins to flirt outrageously with him. Henry, Eleanor, and their father, General Tilney, decide to leave Bath and invite Catherine to visit them at their home, Northanger Abbey. While at Northanger Abbey, Catherine's love of Gothic novels and her tendency to confuse fiction with reality come back to haunt her. Catherine makes some bad assumptions after hearing of Mrs. Tilney's death, and she begins to suspect the controlling General Tilney of murder. Henry calls her out on this, and Catherine feels bad when she learns that Mrs. Tilney died of perfectly natural causes. After this, Catherine also learns that James has called off his engagement to Isabella. Isabella had embarked on a relationship with Captain Tilney, but, unfortunately for her, Captain Tilney has no marriage plans. Isabella is socially ruined by this scandal and Catherine realizes that their friendship was a sham. Things are going well with Henry and Catherine, however. But, before their relationship can progress towards an engagement, General Tilney throws Catherine out of his house. Catherine is confused and returns home to Fullerton. But Henry follows, explaining that his father learned that Catherine wasn't as rich as he had thought, which meant they could no longer socialize. Against his father's wishes, Henry proposes to Catherine. Eleanor, meanwhile, marries a wealthy man, and General Tilney soon gives his approval to Henry and Catherine. Henry and Catherine then marry. The End.

Rhythm and Sound (Pacing)

A poem's meter is only part of its rhythm. Just as important is pacing, which refers to the speed at which a phrase or a line rolls off the tongue. Poets alter the pacing of their poetry in a variety of ways, such as: 1) By altering syllabification, or how many words they use to produce a particular metrical rhythm: Some lines of poems can stall, or pause, or stop. They take too long. They feel like unrolled strings. vs. Another line disintegrates under The magic of syllabification. 2) By using caesuras (significant pauses in the middle of a single line) and by using enjambments (lines that don't stop at the end but push you immediately into starting the next line). In the first example above, there is a significant caesura between "long" and "They." There are also some near-caesuras between "stall" and "or," as well as between "pause" and "or." In the second example above, the lines are enjambed, since one tends to move right from reading "under" to reading "the magic..." on the next line. Lines that aren't enjambed are called end-stopped lines. In the first example above, both lines are end-stopped (an end-stopped line usually has some sort of pause-inducing or ending punctuation—a comma, semi-colon, colon, period, question mark, or exclamation point). 3) By using line breaks. A line refers to a single line of a poem set off visually on the page; a line break refers to where the line ends. Take the lines: i) The blue-winged owl sat through the night, And watched the light grey shrew take fright. There are two lines, and the line break is between "night" and "and." [Note: If quoting more than one line of a poem in an essay, you show the line break using a slash: i.e., In the lines "The blue-winged owl sat through the night,/ and watched the light grey shrew take fright," the poet uses two different colors, "blue" and "grey."] Notice how different line breaks can change the pacing of the lines above: ii) The blue-winged owl Sat through the night, And watched the light Grey shrew take fright. OR iii) The blue-winged owl sat through the night, and watched the light grey shrew take fright.

STANZAS

A stanza consists of consecutive lines of a poem, usually four or more, that somehow form a division within the poem. Sometimes this division is visual (i.e., there is an actual space in the poem before and after the stanza). Sometimes the division is more embedded in the poem and is just signaled by the rhyme scheme (i.e., a group of consecutive lines are linked by their rhyme scheme, which then shifts). Stanzas have special names depending on how many lines they encompass. Three I want you to know are: --the tercet (a three-line grouping; tercets often follow an aba, bcb, cdc, etc., rhyme scheme called terza rima) --the quatrain (a four-line grouping, often with an abab or abac rhyme scheme; quatrains are perhaps the most common stanza type in English poetry) --the sestet (a six-line grouping) --the octave (an eight-line grouping)

Rhythm and Sound (Vocal Inflection)

How the words in a poem are stressed and pronounced when reading it orally can greatly affect its rhythm because reading words in a particular way can force them to follow a particular meter or pace, or even force them to rhyme. This is called vocal inflection, and it's the basic principle behind the rhythms of most popular music, particularly contemporary hip-hop. That said, most poems you read are written to be read aloud as much as they are to read silently, and the vocal inflections produced when reading a poem aloud give it much of its sound and rhythm. [Note: Before deciding two words in a poem by a non-American English language poet don't rhyme, try saying them in the accent of the nation or region the poet is from.]

THE SONNET

This is an important poem form to recognize. It has fourteen lines, and certain thematic conventions. Its two most common forms are: --The Italian Sonnet (or Petrarchan Sonnet), which is made up of an octave followed by a sestet. Its octave often has an abba abba rhyme scheme. Its concluding sestet often has a rhyme scheme of cdcdcd or cdecde or cdccdc. The key thing about the rhyme scheme of the sestet is that the poet avoids ending the poem with a couplet (e.g., cc, dd, or ee). The form of the poem also matters to interpreting it: the octave often sets up a problem or situation to which the sestet responds with a resolution or a changed perspective. The "turn" from the problem to the resolution is called a volta. --The English Sonnet is made up of three quatrains and a concluding couplet. The most common form is the Shakespearean Sonnet, named after...well, you guessed it. Shakespeare's sonnets usually followed the rhyme scheme abab cdcd efef gg. An earlier version of this form, called the Spenserian Sonnet, has an even tighter rhyme scheme (abab bcbc cdcd ee). That said, many nineteenth- and twentieth-century writers of English sonnets play around with the rhyme schemes of the three quatrains: indeed, sometimes the only clear give-away that a sonnet is English is the presence of the concluding couplet. English sonnets tend to shift thoughts or perspectives with each quatrain (so, every four lines); the closing couplet then resolves or passes judgment on the process of thought that unfolded in the first twelve lines.

W. B. Yeats, "The Fascination of What's Difficult"

Time Period: 20th/21st Centuries Subject: Irish Independence and Modernism -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] The poem begins with a title drop. The first line is also the title of the poem. This is by no means a modern convention but is associated with a lot of modern poetry. The second line mentions that this fascination has dried the sap out of his veins. Foregoing the enjambment that carries the same meaning, there's the sentiment that the vitality of the narrator is diminished by this fascination of his. The third line which is part of an enjambement with the second laments the lack of spontaneity and the foregoing joy that is a part of it. The rent here is as rendering or cutting apart. The natural content is the happiness that comes naturally and without excess artifice. The continuous use of enjambment is perhaps ironic in it's artifice in expressing the poets frustration with necessary difficulty. That is, the difficulty of modern poetry. Yeats lived and worked during a period in which Romanticism was transitioning into modernism and there may be hints of the pain of adapting to the new paradigm. The poem goes on to say that there is something of a sickness to our colt. The following lines will characterize the colt as a being that might have the capacity to leap from cloud to cloud, as a pegasus might. The characterization of aesthetic works might at one hand be likened to a pegasus ,but the narration characterizes it more as a horse carrying road metal. It's possible that Yeats may be characterizing Romanticism as a pegasus, and the more modern movement as a horse designated to work and pull road metal, straining under the lash and sweat of the task. The poet then goes on to curse plays and the multiplicity of them. Having to figure out every angle and the particulars of each part. It may be that Yeats is simply criticizing the fact that directing plays and larger productions saps the life from the artist. As Yeats was well known for his poetry, he was also a prolific dramatist of the stage. He'll go on to criticize the theater in more depth. Here in the eleventh line the narration expresses an iconoclastic attitude to people, complaining of the little things that sap the life from him. The poem ends on an upbeat in that the narrator makes an oath before the dawn returns that he'll "find the stable and pull out the bolt" Here we can see that he's referring again to the colt that can be either pegasus or a horse laden with burdens. The narrator vows again that before the next day comes around he'll engage in the creative process again, in order to let the horse fly.

Atonement

Time Period: 20th/21st Centuries Subject: Postmodernism and English Heritage -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] It's by Ian McEwan—a serious and critically acclaimed big-deal novelist who won the Booker Prize, so when he writes about screwing up, you can be sure it's not your garden variety oops-I-washed-my-jeans-with-a-pen-in-the-pocket kind. The stakes are a whole lot higher—and by higher, we're talking falsely-accusing-your-sister's-boyfriend-of-a-horrible-crime-and-ruining-her-life higher. This is the kind of screw up that you don't come back from. The screwer up here is Briony Tallis, a dreamy, upper-class 13-year-old control freak who we first meet in England before World War II. Briony wants to be a writer because—she figures—they get to control the whole world. When you write, after all, your characters do what they're told to and speak when spoken to. You can make up a character, give him an awful name like Beluga Throckmorton, and then make the poor guy do all of your homework. And you know what? He has to listen to you on account of living inside your brain and all. Dude's got no other choice. Instead of putting Briony in control of the world, though, her imagination ends up spreading chaos and misery and guilt and zombie attacks. Okay, not zombie attacks—it's not really that kind of book. But on the other hand, Cecilia—the sister whose life Briony ruins by falsely accusing her boyfriend—does experience such intense romantic tragedy that she had to be played by Keira Knightley in the 2007 film adaptation. That's right: Keira is sad and it's all Briony's fault. No wonder she feels horrible. You would as well—and you deserve to after the horrible way you treated poor old Beluga.

Virginia Woolf, from Mrs. Dalloway (1925)

Time Period: 20th/21st Centuries Subject: Urban Experience and Modernism -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] Mrs. Dalloway covers one day from morning to night in one woman's life. Clarissa Dalloway, an upper-class housewife, walks through her London neighborhood to prepare for the party she will host that evening. When she returns from flower shopping, an old suitor and friend, Peter Walsh, drops by her house unexpectedly. The two have always judged each other harshly, and their meeting in the present intertwines with their thoughts of the past. Years earlier, Clarissa refused Peter's marriage proposal, and Peter has never quite gotten over it. Peter asks Clarissa if she is happy with her husband, Richard, but before she can answer, her daughter, Elizabeth, enters the room. Peter leaves and goes to Regent's Park. He thinks about Clarissa's refusal, which still obsesses him. The point of view then shifts to Septimus, a veteran of World War I who was injured in trench warfare and now suffers from shell shock. Septimus and his Italian wife, Lucrezia, pass time in Regent's Park. They are waiting for Septimus's appointment with Sir William Bradshaw, a celebrated psychiatrist. Before the war, Septimus was a budding young poet and lover of Shakespeare; when the war broke out, he enlisted immediately for romantic patriotic reasons. He became numb to the horrors of war and its aftermath: when his friend Evans died, he felt little sadness. Now Septimus sees nothing of worth in the England he fought for, and he has lost the desire to preserve either his society or himself. Suicidal, he believes his lack of feeling is a crime. Clearly Septimus's experiences in the war have permanently scarred him, and he has serious mental problems. However, Sir William does not listen to what Septimus says and diagnoses "a lack of proportion." Sir William plans to separate Septimus from Lucrezia and send him to a mental institution in the country. Richard Dalloway eats lunch with Hugh Whitbread and Lady Bruton, members of high society. The men help Lady Bruton write a letter to the Times, London's largest newspaper. After lunch, Richard returns home to Clarissa with a large bunch of roses. He intends to tell her that he loves her but finds that he cannot, because it has been so long since he last said it. Clarissa considers the void that exists between people, even between husband and wife. Even though she values the privacy she is able to maintain in her marriage, considering it vital to the success of the relationship, at the same time she finds slightly disturbing the fact that Richard doesn't know everything about her. Clarissa sees off Elizabeth and her history teacher, Miss Kilman, who are going shopping. The two older women despise one another passionately, each believing the other to be an oppressive force over Elizabeth. Meanwhile, Septimus and Lucrezia are in their apartment, enjoying a moment of happiness together before the men come to take Septimus to the asylum. One of Septimus's doctors, Dr. Holmes, arrives, and Septimus fears the doctor will destroy his soul. In order to avoid this fate, he jumps from a window to his death. Peter hears the ambulance go by to pick up Septimus's body and marvels ironically at the level of London's civilization. He goes to Clarissa's party, where most of the novel's major characters are assembled. Clarissa works hard to make her party a success but feels dissatisfied by her own role and acutely conscious of Peter's critical eye. All the partygoers, but especially Peter and Sally Seton, have, to some degree, failed to accomplish the dreams of their youth. Though the social order is undoubtedly changing, Elizabeth and the members of her generation will probably repeat the errors of Clarissa's generation. Sir William Bradshaw arrives late, and his wife explains that one of his patients, the young veteran (Septimus), has committed suicide. Clarissa retreats to the privacy of a small room to consider Septimus's death. She understands that he was overwhelmed by life and that men like Sir William make life intolerable. She identifies with Septimus, admiring him for having taken the plunge and for not compromising his soul. She feels, with her comfortable position as a society hostess, responsible for his death. The party nears its close as guests begin to leave. Clarissa enters the room, and her presence fills Peter with a great excitement.

Why (and Why Not) to Write in English

Time Period: 20th/21st Centuries Subject: Why (and Why Not) to Write in English -------------------------------------------------------- - Bob Marley, selected lyrics (1960s and 70s) [available on Blackboard] (SUMMARY): - Tony Harrison, "Them and Uz" (1974) [available on Blackboard] (SUMMARY):

William Blake, from Songs of Experience (1794)

Time Period: The Romantic Age Subject: Childhood, Religion, and Urban Poverty -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] This poem parallels its namesake in Songs of Innocence. Where that poem posits a subtle satirical message against the type of religion that brings false comfort to abused children, this version strikes directly at the problem. Like Tom Dacre of the earlier poem, the chimney sweeper is crying. When asked where his parents are, he replies, "They are both gone up to church to pray." The boy goes on to explain that his appearance of happiness has led his parents into believing that they have done no harm in finding him work as a chimney sweep, but the boy knows better. He says they taught him to "wear the clothes of death" and "to sing the notes of woe." In fact, they taught him to do this "Because [he] was happy upon the heath,/And smil'd among the winter's snow." The boy's happiness was in fact an affront to his parents, and his ability to enjoy life despite the deathly cold and deprivation of winter, which may represent poverty, as it does in "Holy Thursday," is the very quality that condemns him to a life of further labor and danger. The boy finishes with the damning statement that his parents "are gone up to praise God & his Priest & King/Who make up a heaven of our misery." [Analysis:] When compared structurally to the companion piece from Songs of Innocence, it is obvious that this poem is half as long as its counterpart is. In addition, many lines are much shorter by one or two syllables. The voice of the young chimney sweeper is similar to that of Innocence, but he clearly has little time for the questions put to him (hence the shorter lines). This poem starts with the AABB rhyme scheme characteristic of innocence and childhood, but as it delves deeper into the experience of the Chimney Sweeper, it switches to CDCD EFEF for the last two stanzas. The final stanza, in fact, has only a near rhyme between "injury" (line 10) and "misery" (line 12), suggesting an increasing breakdown in the chimney sweeper's world, or the social order in general. The entire system, God included, colludes to build its own vision of paradise upon the labors of children who are unlikely to live to see adulthood. Blake castigates the government (the "King") and religious leaders (God's "Priest") in similar fashion to his two "Holy Thursday" poems, decrying the use of otherwise innocent children to prop up the moral consciences of adults both rich and poor. The use of the phrase "make up a Heaven" carries the double meaning of creating a Heaven and lying about the existence of Heaven, casting even more disparagement in the direction of the Priest and King. [Summary:] Blake's London is a dismal place, populated by crying infants, poor chimney sweepers, violent soldiers, and brazen prostitutes. Here the prophetic voice of the Bard returns to decry the existence of such a place. Everywhere he sees "Marks of weakness, marks of woe." Like and Amos or Jonah of old, the Bard calls London to repent of its wickedness, its oppression of the poor, and its cultivation of vice, or be destroyed. [Analysis:] "London" follows an ABAB rhyme scheme throughout its three stanzas with little deviation from iambic tetrameter. Only "Mind-forg'd manacles" and "How" and "Blasts" in lines 14-15 are irregularly stressed. "Mind-forg'd" is stressed to further its contrast from the preceding three lines, each of which begins "In every" to create a litany of cries throughout London. Lines 14 and 15 give irregular stress to the two words in order to further disturb the reader, leading up to the oxymoron of the "marriage hearse" in line 16. The poet expresses his disdain for the urban sprawl of post-Industrial Revolution London in terms as harsh as his praise for nature and innocence are pleasant. A society of people so tightly packed into artificial structures breeds evil upon evil, culminating with the "Harlot's curse" that harms both the young and the married. It is as if a system has been created specifically to destroy all that is good in humankind, a theme Blake takes up in his later works. The reader is warned off visiting or dwelling in London, and by implication urged to seek refuge from the world's ills in a more rural setting. Blake's critique is not aimed only at society or the system of the world, however. Only the third stanza directly addresses one group's oppression of another. Instead, much of the poem decries man's self-oppression. One reading of the poem suggests that the Harlot of the last stanza is in fact Nature herself, proclaimed a Harlot by a narrow-minded, patriarchal religious system. In this interpretation, Nature turns the marriage coach into a hearse for all marriage everywhere, because marriage is a limiting human institution that leads to the death of love rather than its fulfillment in natural impulses.

William Blake, from Songs of Innocence (1789)

Time Period: The Romantic Age Subject: Childhood, Religion, and Urban Poverty -------------------------------------------------------- [The Shepherd Summary: ] The poet romanticizes the shepherd's "sweet lot" in life. The shepherd has no fixed workplace, must only follow his sheep, and has "songs of praise" on this tongue constantly. He has nothing to listen to but the "innocent call" of the lamb and the "tender reply" of the ewe. [Analysis:] "The Shepherd" is a poem of two quatrains, each following the ABCB rhyme scheme. The first stanza involves the shepherd actively making noise, as his "tongue" follows the sheep to direct them throughout the day. The second stanza shifts to the peace of nighttime, when the shepherd is quiet so that he may "hear," a word repeated twice in this stanza, and be "watching" over the sheep. The tone moves from one of energetic joy to one of somber peacefulness. Blake shifts from the first-person shepherd of the "Introduction" to a third-person description of the idyllic shepherd's lot in life. The image of the lamb is again used, but this time "lamb" is a common noun, and not overtly meant to be a representation of Jesus Christ, although that connection remains. Blake's own disenchantment with the city is implied here in his paean to the shepherd's rural life. In contrast to the busy life of the urban dweller, the shepherd needs only to follow his sheep, listening to their innocent cries and singing songs of praise. These songs of praise echo the song sung in the Introduction, leading the reader to see the following poems of Songs of Innocence as the shepherd's pastorally-inspired, spontaneous songs. The shepherd's blessed life is not one merely of relaxation, however. "He is watchful," Blake writes, indicating the shepherd's roles caretaker over his flock. In response, the sheep are "in peace,/For they know when their Shepherd is nigh." The capitalization of "Shepherd" throughout the poem suggests the Divine Shepherd, Jesus Christ, who watches over his church "from the morn to the evening" while constantly creating beauty, just as the poetic shepherd does in Blake's present work. [The Little Black Boy Summary:] A black boy compares himself to a white English boy, and at first finds himself wanting. He claims his soul is as white as the English boy's, but also sees himself as "black as if bereav'd of light." He then remembers that his loving mother taught him that his black skin is a result of constant exposure to the sun. The mother explains the sun as God's gift to mankind, sharing both His light and his heat, both of which are forms of his love. His color, she explains, is a temporary "cloud" to be borne until he can fully learn to dwell in the presence of God's love. The speaker ends by saying he will tell the English boy this truth and look forward to the day when both of them have put off this cloud and can love one another truly. [Analysis:] "The Little Black Boy" consists of seven heroic stanzas, which are quatrains following the ABAB rhyme scheme. The first two stanzas describe the boy's mother and the influence she has had on his life. The third, fourth, and fifth stanzas recall the mother's exact words in her lessons to her son. The final two stanzas describe how the black boy communicates his lesson to the white English boy for whom he has a great affection. Stanzas one and two describe the past; stanzas three, four, and five recall the mother's words as if they were being spoken in the present; the sixth and seventh stanzas include the black boy's words, which he "will say" to the English boy in the future. Thus, the poem itself progresses in time from a past (learning), to the present (the lesson itself) and to the future (the implementation or practical outworking of the lesson). Hints of anti-slavery sentiment and an opposition to racism occur in this poem, but they are not the main message. The equality of human beings is, however, emphasized by the poem in its depiction of God creating the world as an act of divine mercy, giving the sun to shine upon and warm all people everywhere as a preparation for the light and heat of His love. The black boy at first sees his blackness negatively, since he seems to be at odds with his own soul, while the English boy is white on both the inside and the outside. The boy's mother sets him straight, however; the outward appearance is but "a cloud" to dim the sun's light and heat until each person is ready to endure it directly. The black boy accepts this explanation, and even envisions himself as having come through the world's testing stronger than the white English boy; he strokes the boy's hair as a mother would her child. While the two boys will one day be equal in love, the poem suggests that the black boy's trials in this life will result in his being spiritually superior to the untried white boy. No matter their relative positions in this life or the next, the theme of equality of men before God is strongly prevalent in this poem. The black boy and his mother have voices whereas the white English boy is silent, and both black and white will one day be recognized as pure souls before God. This concept of a future society, usually a heavenly one, in which inequities are resolved is a recurring one in Blake's Songs of Innocence, most notably in the later "The Chimney Sweeper." In this instance, Blake is not criticizing a mentality that offers platitudes to control the oppressed. Instead, he claims that the very life the boy leads is part of his future perfection. [The Chimney Sweeper Summary:] The speaker of this poem is a small boy who was sold into the chimney-sweeping business when his mother died. He recounts the story of a fellow chimney sweeper, Tom Dacre, who cried when his hair was shaved to prevent vermin and soot from infesting it. The speaker comforts Tom, who falls asleep and has a dream or vision of several chimney sweepers all locked in black coffins. An angel arrives with a special key that opens the locks on the coffins and sets the children free. The newly freed children run through a green field and wash themselves in a river, coming out clean and white in the bright sun. The angel tells Tom that if he is a good boy, he will have this paradise for his own. When Tom awakens, he and the speaker gather their tools and head out to work, somewhat comforted that their lives will one day improve. [Analysis:] "The Chimney Sweeper" comprises six quatrains, each following the AABB rhyme scheme, with two rhyming couplets per quatrain. The first stanza introduces the speaker, a young boy who has been forced by circumstances into the hazardous occupation of chimney sweeper. The second stanza introduces Tom Dacre, a fellow chimney sweep who acts as a foil to the speaker. Tom is upset about his lot in life, so the speaker comforts him until he falls asleep. The next three stanzas recount Tom Dacre's somewhat apocalyptic dream of the chimney sweepers' "heaven." However, the final stanza finds Tom waking up the following morning, with him and the speaker still trapped in their dangerous line of work. There is a hint of criticism here in Tom Dacre's dream and in the boys' subsequent actions, however. Blake decries the use of promised future happiness as a way of subduing the oppressed. The boys carry on with their terrible, probably fatal work because of their hope in a future where their circumstances will be set right. This same promise was often used by those in power to maintain the status quo so that workers and the weak would not unite to stand against the inhuman conditions forced upon them. As becomes more clear in Blake's Songs of Experience, the poet had little patience with palliative measures that did nothing to alter the present suffering of impoverished families. What on the surface appears to be a condescending moral to lazy boys is in fact a sharp criticism of a culture that would perpetuate the inhuman conditions of chimney sweeping on children. Tom Dacre (whose name may derive from "Tom Dark," reflecting the sooty countenance of most chimney sweeps) is comforted by the promise of a future outside the "coffin" that is his life's lot. Clearly, his present state is terrible and only made bearable by the two-edged hope of a happy afterlife following a quick death. Blake here critiques not just the deplorable conditions of the children sold into chimney sweeping, but also the society, and particularly its religious aspect, that would offer these children palliatives rather than aid. That the speaker and Tom Dacre get up from the vision to head back into their dangerous drudgery suggests that these children cannot help themselves, so it is left to responsible, sensitive adults to do something for them.

John Keats, "On Seeing the Elgin Marbles" (1817) [L 987]

Time Period: The Romantic Age Subject: Darkness, Ruins, and Remains -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] In the sonnet "On Seeing the Elgin Marbles" by John Keats, there is a strong sense of death and mans mortality. Keats's speaker is lost within his thoughts and memories and they are not being remembered well. In the poem the speaker grabbles with the idea of his own mortality and the many years and memories that no longer seem good enough. This entire experience is caused by the simple act of looking upon a great but crumbling work of art. This sonnet is written in iambic pentameter and is broken up into two stanzas, one octet and one sestet. In the opening of the octet the speaker is telling the audience how he feels about mortality. He feels it weighing down upon him like exhausting sleep that comes on those unwilling to rest. He does not want to deal with his mortality and yet he feels it all the time. Just like when one is overwhelmed with exhaustion and can not help but feel it no matter how distracted. He says that "each imagined pinnacle and steep of godlike hardships" (Keats 3-4) 6 reminds him of his impending doom. He is saying that every time he thought he was at the highest points in his life down to the very lowest when things were so bad he must have been a god to overcome them, everything reminded him that one day he would meet his end. When Keats says "like a sick eagle looking at the sky" (Keats 5) 6 it gives the reader a very vivid and depressing image. The eagle is generally used to portray a majestic creature that rules the heavens. However, a sick eagle looking at the sky implies perhaps one that is no longer able to fly. He is looking wistfully at the domain he once reigned over. By comparing himself to this sad creature one gets the impression of a once proud and now fallen being that is remembering what they once had. And yet, he feels it is a small privilege to know that he does not have to carry every tragedy with to the next day. In the opening of the sestet he is speaking of events in his life that he believed were great but now, in retrospect, were perhaps not as glorious as once perceived (Keats 9). 6 These ill supposed glories made his heart feud with reality and the feelings that he had once felt. Now that he sees these memories for what they are he feels an intense hurt that he can not recover from. Everything that he once looked upon through rosy glasses now appears tainted through his dusty lens. Though time is known for softening all memories, this time it has done the opposite. He concluded his poem by finally coming to his experience of seeing the Elgin Marbles. This experience is what brought on all this reminiscing and regret. He is seeing a collection of Greek marble sculpture and is depressed to find that they have weathered and worn away. They are a collection of magnificent art and crumbling rock. Even the greatest of art is decaying in front of his eyes. If this artwork that appeared so beautiful in its prime has now diminished to this then what is he to become? The language of the poem is such that it leaves the reader feeling almost unsure. Even upon closer and more thorough readings is such that it leaves little more than a distinct impression of an image but leaves one to wonder what it truly means. This in of itself contributes to the overall feeling and meaning of the poem because the speaker is lost as well. He is unsure of his life and if he had lived it well enough. All he has are these flashes of memories, nothing distinct or detailed but leave a wake of sadness behind. Then, as with any poem that rhymes, the rhyming words are the ones that stand out the most to the listening ear. These words alone tell the story of what the speaker is thinking. They contain "mortality, sleep, steep, die, sky, weep, feud, pain and rude." These words, spoken on their own, are capable of leaving an impression very similar to the one left by the poem in its entirety. This poem is commentary on the way life is lived and the way future experiences can shape our past. Though many know experiences of today can shape our future, the other way around is not as penetrating. What this poem shows it that no matter what you think of yourself today, what happens tomorrow can change everything. This poem's speaker had once believed he had lived a happy life but later experience showed him that "such dim-conceived glories" were simply the makings of his brain and not reality. It can be the simplest of experiences that can change your entire past completely. So what is the meaning? Live your life however you want because in the end it wont be good enough anyway? Perhaps, or it is simply there is no comparison to the majestic art of our past and one can not try to compare to it without feeling great and tragic pain.

Ann Radcliffe, from The Romance of the Forest (1791) [available on Blackboard under "Course Readings"]

Time Period: The Romantic Age Subject: Darkness, Ruins, and Remains -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] The events of the novel take place in late XVII century. The story begins with short description of the La Mottes - the family which used to live in Paris in riches and abundance, but which has to leave their good life because Pierre de La Motte, the head of the family, has to escape from his creditors and the persecution of the laws. So, their group: Pierre, his wife, their servants go ahead hoping for some place for safe living. Their son, Louis, serves in the regiment at this time, so he can't join them. They keep their way through the desolate lands in order their family doesn't fall into the hands of the authorities. Once going through the field they stumble upon a house. There they meet the gangsters who give them a very beautiful young woman and order to take her away and not to come back to this house anymore. The La Mottes take her and continue their way. The woman is called Adeline and she tells them her story: when she was a baby her mother died and her father sent her to a monastery, where she lived until recently her father decided to take her from there, and he brought her in this house, where Pierre saw her. Once, going through the forest, their carriage breaks down and they occur to be alone in the huge forest. But suddenly they notice an abandoned abbey near them. So they decide to stay at least for a night to have a rest after long distance they have overcome and then fix their carriage. This abbey seems to be very dismal and mystical, but they don't have any other variant there. Their hope to fix their one and only means of transport doesn't come true and they don't have any choice but for staying in this abbey. Pierre hunts in the forest, Peter, their servant, takes a horse and having found a village somewhere near the forest, gets them all necessary goods. Actually they understand that they will not find safer place for them, so they settle there. In some time their son, Louis finds them and lives with them during his "vacation", given in service. He falls in love with Adeline, but she doesn't answer him the same. Once a marquis and his soldiers come to them. He says that this abbey is his, but he lets the family to stay here. He visits the house more and more often, he is very courteous, polite, but after this meetings Pierre becomes more and more gloomy and sad. Adeline is worried with his behavior, because Pierre has become her second father, who seems to love her and is very kind to her. But she is happy to live there: she likes to walk in the forest, enjoy the nature. Once, when she sits in the forest and sing, she notices that a young man stands near her and admiringly looks at her. She falls in love with him, but doesn't want to admit this. His name is Theodore. He also falls in love with her from the first sight. Once when the family has a dinner, Peter quietly gives Adeline the sign to go with him. When they stay alone, he says that she is in a huge danger, because Pierre wants to sell her to the marquis. Adeline has already noticed that that man importunately woos her. So Peter and Adeline make up the plan of escape. But marquis buys Peter and the servant tells him this plan. So Adeline gets into hands of her enemy. But here her love - Theodore - appears and saves her. They succeed to overcome some distance, but marquis catches them: Theodore has to come back to his service, where he served, and be punished for the escape from there; as for Adeline, she is refunded to the abbey. Marquis orders Pierre to kill her. But the man isn't able to do such an awful thing with the pure woman, so he gives her a horse, Peter, who has repented in what he has done with her before, and they escape from the abbey to Peter's family far from that place. There, Adeline gets acquainted with a family who lives near Peter's one and this family takes her as their own daughter. They already have a daughter and a son, who is far from there. But in some time their son comes to them, and he appears to be that Theodore whom Adeline loves. They are happy to be with their lovers together again. As for the La Mottes, when the marquis gets to know that Pierre let Adeline go, he wants to kill them all, but then the true story about him, and his relation to Adeline comes out: he occurs to be her uncle, her father was his elder brother and this marquis killed him. So, as this marquis is accused in murder of his brother and murder attempt of Adeline, he is imprisoned and all the money and lands of these brothers comes to Adeline. So, all the good characters are finally happy and all the bad ones are punished.

Nature, Religion, and Rural Poverty

Time Period: The Romantic Age Subject: Nature, Religion, and Rural Poverty -------------------------------------------------------- [Composed Upon Westminster Bridge Summary:] In the summer of 1802, William Wordsworth traveled with his sister, Dorothy, to Calais, France. They stopped in London where, as Dorothy charmingly wrote in her journal, they ran into "various troubles and disasters." Dorothy frequently traveled with her brother - the two were like best friends - and her journals provide an interesting counterpoint to Wordsworth's poetry. They left London early on the morning of July 31st, and Dorothy wrote about crossing over the famous Westminster Bridge to get out of town: Left London between five and six o'clock of the morning outside the Dover coach. [Note from Shmoop: a coach is a small carriage drawn by horses.] A beautiful morning. The city, St Paul's, with the river - a multitude of little boats, made a beautiful sight as we crossed Westminster Bridge; the houses not overhung by their clouds of smoke, and were spread out endlessly; yet the sun shone so brightly, with such a pure light, that there was something like the purity of one of Nature's own grand spectacles. Hmm, now this sounds familiar. Yes, it's the same scene described by her brother in "Composed Upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802." Only poor Wordsworth got the date wrong when he published the poem under this title in 1807 - it was the end of July, not the beginning of September. No matter. The poem is remembered not as a biographical record, but as a beautiful depiction of London in the morning, written in plain language that any Englishman could understand. Wordsworth apparently wrote the sonnet while sitting on top of his coach. Maybe he was so awed by the city because he didn't live there: he was a country mouse who spent much of his time up in the scenic Lake District of England. When he finally made his way into the city, he was like, "Whoa. This is actually pretty cool." At this point in Wordsworth's career, in 1802, he was writing at the peak of his powers, having already published the hugely influential Lyrical Ballads with his friend and fellow genius Samuel Taylor Coleridge. "Composed Upon Westminster Bridge" was not published until 1807, in Poems in Two Volumes. [The world is too much with us:] William Wordsworth was one of the founders of the literary movement we now call Romanticism, a period covering (roughly) the years 1790 to 1824. One of the most prominent features of Romantic poetry - that means poetry from the Romantic period, not that lovey-dovey stuff you see on greeting cards - is an obsession with nature; there are a whole lot of poems about mountains, flowers, birds, you name it. In addition to talking about nature, the Romantics also spent a lot of time on gross inequalities among social classes, industrialization, the government, etc. In many ways, they resemble a lot of our modern-day advocates for the environment and social equality. William Wordsworth, the biggest nature-lover of them all, lived most of his life in a rural part of northern England called the Lake District, a land of beautiful hills, vales, and lakes. If you head over to "Best of the Web," you can see some pictures of Wordsworth's beloved Lake District. Having grown up and lived in one of the most beautiful places in England, it's no surprise that Wordsworth was worried about the potential destruction of that landscape (through deforestation, urbanization, etc.) and about humanity's increasing inability to appreciate it. It is humanity's inability to "feel" nature that most concerns the speaker of "The World is too Much with Us," a poem Wordsworth probably wrote in 1802 but didn't publish until 1807. The speaker claims that our obsession with "getting and spending" has made us insensible to the beauties of nature. "Getting and spending" refers to the consumer culture accompanying the Industrial Revolution that was the devil incarnate for Wordsworth and other "lake poets" like Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Only something as malevolent as that evil red guy with horns and a pitch-fork could make people insensible to something as beautiful as (hold your breath) the wind! But that's just it. Wordsworth's point is that our obsession with "getting and spending" has made it impossible for us to appreciate the simple beauties of the world around us. [We are Seven:] The speaker meets an eight-year old girl and begins a friendly chat. He asks the little girl how many brothers and sisters she has, and she declares that "we are seven." The speaker asks where all of her siblings are, and learns that two of them are actually dead. The speaker insists that the little girl has only four, and not six siblings, but the girl is resolute: her dead brother and sister still count. They argue a bit, and the speaker gets emphatic, exclaiming that "two are dead!" But the little girl has the last word and sticks to her guns. The poem ends with her declaration that "Nay, we are seven!" [Nutting:] William Wordsworth's "Nutting" is a blank verse lyric poem that blends memories of youth with imagery of nature in a self-contained narrative arc. The poet originally composed the work during a trip to Germany in the late eighteenth century, officially publishing it in 1800 in the second edition of Lyrical Ballads. The poem was originally intended to be part of his autobiographical magnum opus, "The Prelude," however Wordsworth decided to publish the piece as its own standalone text. Much like "The Prelude," "Nutting" is both an introspective and retrospective look into the mind of the great English Romanticist. "Nutting" begins as the speaker of the poem invokes a childhood memory of setting out one morning with a nutting-crook to go harvest hazelnuts in the forest. As they journey through the woods, the speaker stumbles upon an untouched bower, pristine in its paradise-like beauty. The young speaker revels in the serenity of the bower as if it were a mythical realm. Suddenly, however, they are overcome by their inherent greed and inborn hunger as they drag down the branches of the hazel trees all around them, bringing their boughs crashing to the ground. Both in the past and the present, the speaker expresses great shame for what they have done, concluding the poem with a message of caution to always tread gently through the woods, for there is a spirit who lives within it.

Olaudah Equiano, from The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano (1789) [L 230-239]

Time Period: The Romantic Age Subject: Rights and Revolution -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] He was born in the Eboe province of Africa, and provides cultural detail on those people. While young children, he and his sister were seized by kidnappers and sold to slave traders. After being brought across Africa to the coast, he was sent to the West Indies via the horrific Middle Passage. He was purchased quickly enough by Michael Henry Pascal, a lieutenant in the Royal Navy. Pascal had intended him as a gift for friends in London, but instead kept Equiano as an aid towards his naval endeavors during the Seven Years' War. During this time, Equiano heard about the Christian God and started learning to read and write. Through his ability at sea, he became indispensable to Pascal and became accustomed to his situation. Equiano began to think of freedom, and hoped that Pascal might one day allow it. Unfortunately, Pascal learning of Equiano's ambition, and cruelly sold him to Captain Doran of the Charming Sally. Equiano was devastated, but tried to resign himself to God's will. Doran in turn sold Equiano to Robert King, a wealthy and benevolent Quaker merchant who worked out of Philadelphia. King was a kind master, and Equiano worked diligently and cheerfully for him. Even though he still hoped to one day purchase freedom, Equiano's strong moral code precluded him from simply running away unless he was abused. Equiano traveled to America and the West Indies with King, noting the terrible punishments and treatment inflicted upon the Africans who toiled on the plantations there. He realized that free blacks in some ways were worse off than slaves, since they had no master to look out for them, and no opportunities for legal redress of injury. King allowed his friend, Captain Thomas Farmer, to take Equiano as sailor on several of his voyages, on which Equiano distinguished himself. King and Farmer accused him once of planning an escape, but Equiano's evidence of loyalty squashed their fears. Guilty over the accusation, King promised to lend Equiano money towards his freedom if the slave could raise an adequate amount himself. Equiano finally raised enough money to purchase his manumission in July of 1766. Equiano describes it as the happiest day of his life. As he was firmly indebted to the kindness of Farmer and King, he continued to sail with them, but now as a paid steward and sailor. Equiano's travels brought him to Turkey, Martinico, Georgia, Montserrat, Grenada, France, and even to the North Pole. That mission sought a route to India, but was a failure. Throughout these voyages, Equiano proved himself to be immensely capable and intelligent. He had learned how to read and write, and mastered navigation. He also learned how to dress hair, an occupation he took up when he later lived in London. After several near death experiences on the North Pole expedition, Equiano decided to seek God in a deeper way than he had previously done. He visited several churches and found them wanting; he preferred to read the Bible alone in his lodging. However, in a chance encounter with an elderly Methodist man, he came to understand a new way of interpreting the Bible. It became clear to him that god works alone could not procure the free gift of grace and salvation that God provided. After some equivocation, Equiano underwent a conversion experience and joined the Methodist church. Religion thus permeated every aspect of his life and was crucial to his fashioning of his identity. After a few more voyages, Equiano accepted his friend Doctor Irving's proposal to work as an overseer on a new plantation in Jamaica. Equiano was not in Jamaica for long before he tired of life there. He sailed back to England and worked for Governor Macnamara for a time. Macnamara wanted Equiano to serve as a missionary in Africa, but the Bishop of the Church did not approve his petition. Equiano then worked as part of the government's plan to relocate slaves in Sierra Leone. Due to mismanagement and shortsightedness, the plan failed. Equiano was criticized for his role in this failure, but he protests quite firmly that he was blameless. He was honored to present a petition to the Queen calling attention to the atrocities of the slave trade, and asking for its abolition. He also spent time in Wales, and married Miss Susanna Cullen in 1791. In the final chapter, he makes several explicit arguments to the reader for abolition of the slave trade. Equiano ends his narrative by explaining that he had come to see the invisible hand of God was in every event of his life. Through that realization, he has learned a lesson of "morality and religion" (236).

Mary Wollstonecraft, from A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792): "Letter to M. Tallyrand," "Introduction" [L 304-9 only]

Time Period: The Romantic Age Subject: Rights and Revolution -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] She says from the get-go that humanity's greatest gift is its ability to reason. And since men and women are born with the same ability to reason, women should enjoy just as much education, power, and influence in society as men do. The only reason women don't seem as smart as men, she says, is because they aren't given the same education. The one thing she's willing to admit is that men might have an advantage in physical strength. But in a modern civilization, this advantage shouldn't really mean anything. For a gentleman living in Wollstonecraft's time, there were very few (if any) occasions in life where he would be called upon to use all of his strength. Once she gets into her argument, Wollstonecraft goes after some writers who have claimed that women's education should focus solely on making young women pleasing to men. In other words, popular opinion in Wollstonecraft's time states that women shouldn't busy themselves with too much reading or studying. They should focus on dressing nicely and being quiet. Wollstonecraft tears these arguments to shreds, saying that they end up causing a lot of social problems. For example, how can people expect a woman to raise children well if she has no education and no ability to reason? Further, how can women be moral and virtuous if all they're ever taught is how to look moral and virtuous? This kind of education focuses only on appearances and makes women totally superficial. As the book continues, Wollstonecraft argues that education should be available equally to both boys and girls regardless of how wealthy their families are. That's why she thinks that there should be a national public school system that is free for children up to a certain age. That probably sounds familiar; it's a lot like today's public school system. Wollstonecraft closes the book with one last flurry, summing up all the arguments she's made and showing once and for all that there's no possible way to support the oppression of women without being a bully and a tyrant. In the end, Wollstonecraft states that a future with educated women will be much brighter than a future without them.

The Importance of Being Earnest

Time Period: The Victorian Age Subject: Decadence and Deflation -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] Welcome to Wilde's wild world. Things move fast here, so be prepared to catch all the banter. Ready? Algernon Moncrieff welcomes his friend Ernest Worthing in for a visit. Through an incident with a cigarette case and an unlucky inscription, Ernest is forced to confess that his name is really Jack. The story goes like this: in the country, Jack must lead the boring life of responsible guardian for his pretty, young ward Cecily. So he made up a seedy younger brother named Ernest, who is an urban socialite. Cecily, we learn, is a bit too interested in Ernest for her own good. Whenever Jack feels like it, he visits London on the pretense that he's cleaning up Ernest's messes. After all, as the older brother he must be responsible for getting his younger brother out of trouble. Instead, Jack takes on the name Ernest and goes partying around town. Algernon is amused by this discovery and reveals that he has a similar nonexistent friend. Algernon's friend is a perpetual invalid named Bunbury, who allows Algernon to visit the country whenever he likes. We learn that Jack is in love with Gwendolen Fairfax, who is Algernon's cousin and coincidentally scheduled to visit that day. (Both Algernon and Gwendolen think that Jack's name is Ernest.) Jack cuts a deal with Algernon: if Algernon can get Gwendolen's mother, Lady Bracknell, out of the room, then Jack can propose to Gwendolen. In return, Jack will dine with Algernon tonight so that Algernon can avoid dining with his Aunt Augusta (a.k.a. Lady Bracknell). The plan works. We learn that Gwendolen is smitten by the name Ernest. She is just accepting Ernest's proposal when Lady Bracknell re-enters the room, discovers them, and furiously sends Gwendolen down to the carriage. Lady Bracknell gives Ernest a chance to prove his worthiness by interviewing him. Once she decides that he is not fit for her daughter, she makes it clear that Gwendolen is not engaged to Ernest. Although Ernest is rich, has a good reputation around town, and seems to be perfectly suitable for Gwendolen, Lady Bracknell doesn't approve of the engagement because of one thing: he's an orphan, abandoned at birth for unknown reasons and found in a handbag at Victoria train station. This doesn't fly with Lady Bracknell, who tells him to find his parents ASAP and then dismisses him. Furious, Jack and Algernon concoct a scheme for getting rid of Ernest. They decide that he'll die in Paris of a severe chill. In the meantime, Gwendolen has found an opportunity to slip back into the room and confess her undying love for Ernest. Having heard her mother's furious remarks, she's fascinated about his mysterious background and asks for his country address. As Ernest gives it, Algernon discreetly copies it down and later announces to his servant that he's going Bunburying tomorrow. At Jack's country estate, young Cecily does everything she can to avoid studying her German grammar. She lies to get her governess, Miss Prism, to take a break. Miss Prism allows this only because she's distracted by Dr. Chasuble, the local reverend. Just as Miss Prism leaves, the arrival of Ernest Worthing is announced. It turns out to be Algernon. Algernon and Cecily flirt outrageously. Cecily reveals that she's been fantasizing about Earnest for quite some time, and has even imagined that she's engaged to him. She invites him in for dinner. At that moment, Miss Prism and Dr. Chasuble return from their walk, only to meet Jack dressed in black mourning clothes. He's come home early to announce that his brother, Ernest, has died tragically in Paris, of a severe chill. Right on cue, Cecily comes out to tell her Uncle Jack that Ernest has come to visit. When Jack sees it's Algernon, he is furious and arranges for Ernest to leave via the dog-cart. When the cart comes, Algernon promptly sends it away. Cecily pays Algernon a visit and they engage in more flirtation, where we learn that Cecily is obsessed with the name "Ernest." When Algernon leaves (to arrange a baptism), Gwendolen arrives. Cecily entertains her. When each lady learns that the other is supposedly engaged to Ernest Worthing, they immediately start fighting. Luckily, both Jack and Algernon show up in time to clear up any doubt. Their true identities are revealed, as well as the fact that there is no Ernest. The women, realizing they've been tricked, suddenly become as close as sisters and go up to the house arm-in-arm, turning their backs on the men. Meanwhile, the men take out their frustration on the remaining tea items, fighting over the muffins while they figure out what to do. Eventually, they enter the house and confess to the women. The Ernest business, they say, was done only so that they could see their beloved ladies as often as possible. The women forgive them. But their joy is interrupted by the arrival of Lady Bracknell. She has come to bring Gwendolen home. When she sees Cecily holding Algernon's hand, she gives her an icy glare, but politely asks Jack how big this girl's inheritance is. When she finds out that the girl is extremely wealthy, Lady Bracknell's attitude toward Cecily changes and she gives consent for her and Algernon to marry. But Jack, as Cecily's guardian, refuses to give his consent unless Lady Bracknell allows him to marry Gwendolen. Lady Bracknell wants nothing to do with it. Dr. Chasuble shows up to tell Jack and Algernon that everything is ready for their baptisms and happens to mention Miss Prism. Lady Bracknell's ears prick up at the name. Miss Prism is brought before her and shamefacedly confesses the truth: she was once Lady Bracknell's servant and was in charge of a certain child. One day, she took the baby out in his stroller for a walk and brought along some leisure reading—a three-volume novel that she had written and kept in a handbag. Distracted, she switched the two—putting the novel in the stroller and the baby into the handbag. She dropped the handbag off at Victoria train station. At this discovery, Jack freaks out and runs upstairs to find something. When he comes back down, he's holding the handbag (remember, Jack is an orphan who was found in a handbag). Jack mistakenly thinks Miss Prism is his mother, but is corrected by Lady Bracknell, who tells him that a Mrs. Moncrieff is his mother. That makes Jack Algernon's older brother. Then, they all wonder what Jack's real name is. Remember, Gwendolen will only love him if his name is Ernest. Lady Bracknell tells Jack he was named after his father, but nobody can remember what the General's name was. Jack looks up "Moncrieff" in his book of Army Lists. The results? His father's name was Ernest. So he's been telling the truth all along. His name really is Ernest.And now he can marry Gwendolen. There's general rejoicing. Gwendolen hugs Ernest. Cecily hugs Algernon. Miss Prism hugs Dr. Chasuble. And Ernest closes the play by insisting that he's now learned the "importance of being earnest."

Dracula

Time Period: The Victorian Age Subject: Late Victorian Anxieties -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] Jonathan Harker, a young London solicitor (a lawyer) travels to Transylvania (modern-day Romania) to help a rich nobleman, Count Dracula, purchase an estate in England. Dracula is planning to immigrate to England, and wants Harker to help him hammer out all the legal details. Harker is at first impressed by Dracula's suave politeness, but is soon creeped out by the Count's uncanny ability to communicate with wolves and by the lack of servants—or anyone else—in the Count's huge castle. Soon after, Harker realizes that he's a prisoner in the castle. One evening, he tries to find an escape route... only to be discovered and almost seduced/devoured by three sexy vampire ladies (the brides of Dracula). Dracula rescues him at the last minute, and Harker realizes that Dracula is only keeping him alive to finish the real estate transaction. Harker decides to make a break for it and only barely escapes from the castle alive. He's not able to head straight back to England, though. He comes down with a severe case of brain fever because of the shock and spends many weeks recuperating in a convent in the countryside in Hungary. Meanwhile, back in England, Harker's fiancée, Mina, is hanging out with her best friend Lucy in a seaside town. Mina's worried about Jonathan and wonders why she hasn't heard from him in so long, but Lucy can only think about her own suitors. She gets three marriage proposals in the same day by three friends: Dr. John Seward, a doctor who runs a mental hospital; Quincey Morris, an American; and Arthur Holmwood, the son of Lord Godalming (an English gentleman). She accepts Arthur Holmwood. Even though Quincey Morris and Dr. Seward are disappointed, they still stay friends with Holmwood. Meanwhile, Dracula has arrived in England, but hasn't shown himself yet. A patient in Dr. Seward's hospital, Renfield, continually captures and eats insects, spiders, and birds and says that the "Master" is coming soon. Lucy starts acting weird—she seems to be losing blood, but no one knows where the blood's going. Her fiancé, Lord Arthur Holmwood, gets worried, and Dr. Seward sends for his friend and mentor, Van Helsing, to check her out. Van Helsing realizes that there's a vampire involved. He's a scientist and doctor, but he's also well-versed in ancient superstitions and philosophy, so he knows what to do to kill vampires. Even after giving her multiple blood transfusions, they're not able to save Lucy, and she dies. But Van Helsing knows she's not really dead. The four men break into her tomb and catch vampire Lucy coming back from a foray in the neighboring village. They stab her in the heart and cut off her head to make sure she's really dead, and not just mostly dead. Mina finally hears from Jonathan and goes to Budapest to pick him up. They get married at the convent where he's been recovering from his illness and come back to England. Harker, Van Helsing, Dr. Seward, Morris, and Holmwood all swear to get rid of Dracula once and for all. Mina has to hide in Dr. Seward's office at the hospital while the men go vampire-hunting. Unfortunately, Renfield knows about Dracula and invites him into the building (vampires can't enter unless they've been invited, so don't go inviting any vampires into your homes), and he starts drinking Mina's blood. The men come back in time to find her being force-fed some of Dracula's blood. The case is now extremely urgent—if they don't catch and kill Dracula quickly, Mina will turn into a vampire like Lucy did. Dracula leads them on a spectacular chase back to Transylvania, where they finally catch up to him and kill him. Mina is saved, and they all live happily ever after. Except for Quincey Morris, who gets stabbed during the final fight.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson, "Ulysses" (1842) [L 1189-91]

Time Period: The Victorian Age Subject: Psychology and Poetry: the Dramatic Monologue -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] "Ulysses" details Ulysses' intense dissatisfaction and boredom on his island home of Ithaca. The poem is a monologue spoken by him, where he not only expresses his discontent, but also describes his desire to keep sailing. He's getting older and doesn't have a lot of time left, so he wants to get busy living rather than busy dying. The poem concludes with his resolution to "strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

The Angel in the House and the Madwoman in the Attic

Time Period: The Victorian Age Subject: The Angel in the House and the Madwoman in the Attic -------------------------------------------------------- [The Angle in the House:] The first two poems are forms of a single comprehensible poem and start with the narrator saying his wife that he is going to write a long poem on her. The poem then carries on starting from the journey of the poet who is in youth and meets a girl who is to become his wife. The poem then reflects the poet's reflections of his beloved and the notion of ideal femininity. The poem goes on describing the growing relationship between the two and then the sudden arrival of the girl's cousin who is rejected by the girl because she eventually marries the poet. The last two installments were written with the point of view of the rejected suitor who marries another woman. The man is not able to overcome his feelings towards his first love, but he is trying hard to concentrate all his love towards his wife. In the end, he succeeds by overcoming all his doubts and feels complete as well. -------------------------------------------------------- [The Madwoman in the Attic:] You can't get into a discussion of symbolism in Jane Eyre without running into the madwoman in the attic. Not literally, of course—that would be terrifying. The phrase "the madwoman in the attic" is the invention of two famous feminist literary critics, Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, who wrote a book with that title in 1979. (See "Trivia" for more on the book.) The phrase, of course, refers specifically to Bertha Mason, Rochester's sometimes-wife, now an insane prisoner locked in the attic of his house with Grace Poole for a nursemaid. Gilbert and Gubar developed a critical theory about this "madwoman in the attic" figure: she represents all the subverted rage and pain experienced by the female author of the text (in this case, Charlotte Brontë). Bertha can be locked away, kept secret, and labeled as insane, but nobody can deny her intensity or power: she's sexually potent, wicked smart, and absolutely ruthless. Nobody can kill her, either, because she seems to be invincible—in this novel, of course, she chooses to commit suicide. Huh. If Bertha is representative of Charlotte, then what might it mean for Charlotte to kill off her evil doppelgänger as she's writing?

Christina Rossetti, "Goblin Market" (1862) [L 1650-63]

Time Period: The Victorian Age Subject: The Fallen Women -------------------------------------------------------- [Summary:] Christina Rossetti 's "Goblin Market," like most art by members of the Pre-Raphaelite group, is teeming with symbolism. And guess what - this means there's plenty of work to be done digging up the good stuff. Not that it's uninteresting on the surface, or narrative, level. "Goblin Market" is about two sisters, one of whom gets sick after eating bad goblin fruit, and is healed because of her sister's bravery. The Rossettis were an extraordinary family. Christina Rossetti was the youngest child in a family of poets, artists, and philosophers. Christina's father, Gabriele Rossetti, was an Italian political refugee. Rossetti was married to an English woman, and he continued to live in England because he couldn't return to Italy. Christina's brother, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, was a poet, a painter, and a prominent member of the artistic group called the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. William Michael Rossetti another brother, was a literary and art critic. Maria Francesca, Christina's older sister, was intensely religious and eventually became a nun. Like many young English women in the Victorian period (i.e., during the reign of Queen Victoria, or 1837-1901), Christina Rossetti was educated at home. Like her sister, she was a devout Anglo-Catholic. But like her brothers, Christina was also closely associated with the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. She wrote occasional poems and essays for the Pre-Raphaelite journal, The Germ. Encouraged by her family, she eventually published a collection of poetry, Goblin Market and Other Poems, in 1862. The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood (PRB) was a group of painters, poets, and critics who thought that art had gone down the tubes since the time of the Renaissance Italian painter Raphael. They wanted both visual art and poetry to return to the intense colors and vivid detail typical of artists in the early Italian Renaissance. Pre-Raphaelite painters and poets depicted even the humblest objects with great detail - nothing was beneath their notice. But their art wasn't just about nostalgia for the past. The Pre-Raphaelites were also progressive and forward thinking. The PRB wanted to buck the system and rebel against the kind of art taught by the Royal Academy schools in England. They thought that all forms of art were closely linked, so they encouraged PRB members to dabble in different media: painters tried writing poetry, and poets tried painting. Christina Rossetti's brother, Dante Gabriel, was the most successful at integrating different forms. He's now remembered as both a painter and poet. Christina Rossetti was never an official member of the PRB (after all, it was a "Brotherhood"), but she was still an important part of the group. Her brother, Dante Gabriel, contributed paintings to illustrate "Goblin Market." In addition, her poems are all clearly influenced by the values of the PRB. Check out the "Best of the Web" section to see examples of Dante Gabriel Rossetti's paintings for "Goblin Market."