Showing posts with label Pre-Raphaelite. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pre-Raphaelite. Show all posts

May 19, 2012

Review: "Hide Me Among the Graves" by Tim Powers


A couple of observations about Tim Powers and the books that he writes--First, he can weave a hell of a tale!  Second, he certainly does his homework, as his blending of historical fact within his fiction borders upon both the sublime and brilliant!  Hide Me Among the Graves is only the third novel by Powers that I've read, but it is easily the best.  The other two were The Anubis Gates and The Stress of Her Regard.

By way of background, and as some of you may know, I am a huge fan of the Victorian poet, Christina Rossetti.  Christina was the youngest sister of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood founder, Dante Gabriel Rossetti (a poet in his own right).  While a pious woman, Christina, for much of her life explored the breadth and depth of human emotion in her amazing poetry such as her long narrative epic poem, Goblin Market, or the intensely personal series of Monna Innominata sonnets, or in her slightly creepy poems The Ghost's Petition, My Dream or Love and Death. 

Portrait of Christina by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
I guess what I'm trying to say is that Christina Rossetti's poetry evokes a similar response in me as that when I view the art of William Holman Hunt or John Everett Millais, or even Christina's brother, Dante Gabriel--the paintings are lavishly colorful, ornate, detailed and bring to life the natural, spiritual and mythological world.  Christina Rossetti was, if you will, a charter member of the 'PreRaphaelite Sisterhood' and her poetry, in my opinion, was as intellectually creative and emotionally visceral as that of her male contemporaries in the visual and literary arts.  While Christina is perhaps best known for her epic poem, Goblin Market (1859), she was a prolific poet  who, through the course of her life, wrote something over 1,000 poems.  Like her older sister, Maria, Christina never married, and she ultimately died of cancer at the age of 64 in 1894.

What Powers has done in Hide Me Among the Graves is to create an entirely compelling and virtually believable and macabre story involving the Rossetti family and some of the characters from his earlier novel, The Stress of Her Regard.  Is it necessary to read The Stress of Her Regard first? Probably not, but I thoroughly recommend that you do so, as it will make your overall experience that much more meaningful.  In both, The Stress of Her Regard and Hide Me Among the Graves,  Powers has created a unique blend of historical, horror and fantasy fiction in a style that hearkens back to the Romantic period and Gothic revival portrayed in the poetry of Byron, Shelley, Keats and even Coleridge, and in the fiction of Matthew Lewis, Mary Shelley, and Ann Radcliffe.  Interestingly, and relevant to both  The Stress of Her Regard and Hide Me Among the Graves, shortly after Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein in 1817, the maternal uncle of the Rossetti siblings, John Polidori, wrote a short story entitled The Vampyre (1819).  Polidori, who was also Byron's personal physician while Byron was in Europe, figures prominently in Hide Me Among the Graves as one of the immortal race of horrifying vampires known as the Nephilim.

While a horror story from start to finish, Hide Me Among the Graves is also a family story told on a Dickensian scale.  Powers completely captures the devotion to family that each member of the Rossetti family so zealously guarded and protected.  And while the Rossetti siblings, William, Dante Gabriel, Maria, and Christina are trying to rid London of their undead Uncle Polidori, the fictional characters John Crawford and Adelaide McKee are trying to find and save their young daughter, Johanna, from the clutches of the evil vampire.  During the course of the novel the reader encounters other such real-life characters as the poet Algernon Charles Swinburne, Dante Gabriel Rossetti's artistic muse and wife Lizzie Siddal, the linguist and Dante translator Charles Cayley, and the author and adventurer Edward John Trelawny.  The other major character featured in the book is the City of London and its history, from the depths of the oldest sewers to the "Whispering Gallery" in the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral.  Powers' portrayal of his characters in the London landscape increasingly reminded me of Charles Dickens' magnum opus Our Mutual Friend, both in the descriptive talents of the two writers, but also in the sheer elegance of each written word on the page.  These are characters that you can believe in, admire, and be repulsed and horrified by.  At the same time, over the course of the novel, the gritty and seamy urban environment of London is described so realistically that one almost expects to encounter little 'Jenny Wren' or the 'Artful Dodger' as one rounds the corner in the footsteps of Christina Rossetti on the trail of her vampire uncle.

Lizzie Siddall by DGR
This is good stuff, folks!  A scary and macabre tale, yet at the same time a breathtakingly imaginative and creative story grounded in the real lives of a group of intellectually amazing poets and painters at the height of the Victorian Era in the 19th century.  Finally, there are two aspects of Powers' Hide Me Among the Graves that simply cannot be overstated or oversold.  First, Powers has managed to effectively and accurately portray the complexity of the relationships between Christina Rossetti and her other family members; the tortured relationship between Dante Gabriel Rossetti and his wife, Lizzie Siddall; and even the somewhat bizarre character of the poet, Algernon Swinburne.  Additionally, and most importantly from my perspective, Powers has managed to open a window and illuminate the magnificent poetry of a relatively obscure--but certainly not minor--female poet of the Victorian Era, Christina Georgina Rossetti.  I personally cannot thank Tim Powers enough for setting out and accomplishing both of these tasks in grand fashion in this truly excellent novel!

While cerebral, Tim Powers' Hide Me Among the Graves is entirely accessible to any and all readers and provides a wonderful exclamation point to his spectacularly successful earlier novel, The Stress of Her Regard.  I highly recommend both of these amazing novels!

Note--

I am rereading the novel right now, and revisiting some of Christina's poetry that was utilized as epigraphs and/or referred to throughout the book, and I am quite likely to come back and revisit the content of this review in the near future, but this will suffice for the time being.

***

Afterword--

If, after reading Hide Me Among the Graves, you find yourself becoming interested in learning more about the Victorian poet, Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830-1894), I strongly recommend the following:

Christina Rossetti: The Complete Poems, Penguin Classics, 2005.

Christina Rossetti: A Literary Biography, by Jan C. Marsh, 1994 (My review here)

December 4, 2010

Literary Blog Hop: "What is your favorite poem and why?"

The folks over at The Blue Bookcase sponsor "The Literary Blog Hop," a weekly meme, that gives all of us who read and write about books an opportunity to find and make new friends, and exchange ideas.  This week's question was submitted by Gary at The Parrish Lantern.

What is your favorite poem and why?

I normally do not qualify answers to questions, but I'm making an exception here.  I consider myself quite the connoisseur and a serious student of poetry.  As many of you know, I post lots and lots of poetry here at ProSe.  I also have an extensive collection of poetry that I am continually delving into.

Okay, so why do I feel compelled to qualify my answer to Gary's question?  For me, it just isn't as simple as saying that this poem, or that poem, is my most favorite poem.  Depending upon my mood, time, or place, I can think of many, many poems that would, or could, be my favorite poem.  From the perspective of the most perfectly written poem that really packs a punch, I might be inclined to suggest that John Keats' La Belle Dame sans Merci. A Ballad rises to the top.  At another moment it might very well be Emily Dickinson's poem No. 712, Because I could not stop for Death--.

Be that as it may, at this moment in time my favorite poem is by Christina Georgina Rossetti, an English poet of the Victorian era.  She was the youngest sister of the Pre-Raphaelite painter and poet, Dante Gabriel Rossetti (at right is his pencil sketch of Christina).  Christina Rossetti was born in 1830, and died in 1895.  She was truly a prolific poet, writing something over 1,000 poems over the course of her life, and is perhaps best known for her epic poem, Goblin Market.

An Echo From Willowwood

"O ye, all ye that walk in Willowwood." D.G. Rosetti

Two gazed into a pool, he gazed and she,
Not hand in hand, yet heart in heart, I think,
Pale and reluctant on the water's brink
As on the brink of parting which must be.
Each eyed the other's aspect, she and he,
Each felt one hungering heart leap up and sink,
Each tasted bitterness which both must drink,
There on the brink of life's dividing sea.
Lilies upon the surface, deep below
Two wistful faces craving each for each,
Resolute and reluctant without speech: —
A sudden ripple made the faces flow
One moment joined, to vanish out of reach:
So those hearts joined, and ah! were parted so.

***

One of the things that I love so much about this poem is its relationship to the back-story.  This poem is an example of the poet utilizing his/her unique life experiences.  In An Echo from Willowwood, Christina is telling the story of the love between her brother, Dante, one of the founders of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, and his wife, Lizzie Siddal.  At the same time, Christina has crafted her sonnet to play off of Dante's earlier 'Willowwood' sonnets that were written about his wife, who died in 1862 due to laudanum addiction. So the story goes, Lizzie had left sketches of herself and Dante looking into pools of water together; these sketches then inspired the poetry of both of the Rossetti siblings. Finally, you might also be interested to learn that Lizzie Siddal served as the model for Sir John Everett Millais's famous Pre-Raphaelite painting "Ophelia."  Somehow, I think that Christina has perfectly captured the tenderness and deep love that Dante and Lizzie shared, but I also think she very effectively touches upon the sadness to come.  To me, this is a meaningful, very beautiful and poignant poem.

***

September 15, 2010

A Poem for the Day: "The Water Spirit's Song" by Christina Rossetti

Today I want to share a poem by another one of my favorite Victorian poets--Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830-1894).  For those who don't know, she was the youngest sister of the Pre-Raphaelite artist, Dante Gabriel Rossetti (actually one of the co-founders of the Pre-Raphaelite movement).  If you look through the archives of my blog, you'll find that I have numerous previous postings dealing with her life and poetry.  She was a brilliant poet, and an incredibly fascinating woman.

The poem I am sharing with you is entitled The Water Spirit's Song, and was written by Christina in 1844 when she was only 13 years old!  Jan Marsh, in her superb biography of Christina Rossetti (Christina Rossetti: A Literary Biography, 1994, Jonathan Cape, pp. 634), says this about the poem--
"On March 4, 1844 she completed her first long fantasy poem, The Water Spirit's Song, running to 68 lines in three rolling periods, with a wave-like rhythm and conspicuous feminine endings.  The story is that of a naiad who departs each evening from her daytime station under a waterfall to join her sister, Queen of the Ocean, in the vast depths...Truth to tell, up to this point Christina's verse displayed little real promise.  Had it not been so self-consciously copied into the notebook, it would hardly be taken to presage an exceptional talent.  And in many ways this piece too is naive and derivative, inspired by Tennyson's mermaids and mermen, who frolic 'merrily' all night, and by water-nymph stories such as Undine.  But the skill that enabled Christina, at age thirteen, to imitate such works is less striking than the expression of feeling, through intense mesmeric rhythms and cool, watery imagery.  The atmosphere is cold but compelling, and vividly conveys the desire to float amid swaying waves.  Moreover, the twin motifs of this fantasy--the wish to escape and be reunited with a sister--surely point to recent events, notably Maria's departure" [her older sister, away as a governess].
The illustration that I have chosen to accompany the poem is Lamia, and was painted by the Pre-Raphaelite artist, John William Waterhouse (1848-1917) in 1909.  Somehow, to me, this beautiful painting seems to perfectly represent the water-nymph of Christina's poem.  Please feel free to 'click' on the image for a larger view of Waterhouse's painting.

And without any further ado, the poem--

The Water Spirit's Song

In the silent hour of even,
When the stars are in the heaven,
When in the azure cloudless sky
The moon beams forth all lustrously,
When over hill and over vale
Is wafted the sweet-scented gale,
When murmurs thro' the forest trees
The cool, refreshing, evening breeze,
When the nightingale's wild melody
Is waking herb and flower and tree,
From their perfumed and soft repose,
To list the the praises of the rose;
When the ocean sleeps deceitfully,
When the waves are resting quietly,
I spread my bright wings, and fly far away
To my beautiful sister's mansion gay:
I leave behind me rock and mountain,
I leave behind me rill and fountain,
And I dive far down in the murmuring sea,
Where my fair sister welcomes me joyously;
For she's Queen of Ocean for ever and ever,
And I of each fountain and still lake and river.

She dwells in a palace of coral
Of diamond and pearl;
And in each jewelled chamber the fishes
Their scaly length unfurl;
And the sun can dart no light
On the depths beneath the sea;
But the ruby there shines bright
And sparkles brilliantly;
No mortal e'er trod on the surface
Of the adamantine floor;
No human being e'er passed the bound
Of the pearl-encrusted door.
But the mermaidens sing plaintively
Beneath the deep blue ocean,
And to their song the green fishes dance
With undulating motion.
And the cold bright moon looks down on us
With her fixed unchanging smile;
'Neath her chilly glance the mermaids dance
Upon each coral isle;
And her beams she laves in the briny waves
With loving constancy;
And she never ceases with light caresses
To soothe the swelling sea;
All night on us she softly shines
With a fond and tender gaze
Till the sun blushes red from his ocean bed
And sends forth his warming rays.
And then she flies to other skies
Till the sun has run his race,
And again the day to the night's soft sway
To the moon and stars gives place.

And when the bright sun doth arise,
To tinge with gold the vaulted skies,
When the nightingale no longer sings,
And the blush rose forth its odour flings,
When the breath of morn is rustling through
The trees, and kissing away the dew,
When the sea casts up its foam and spray,
And greets the fresh gale that speeds away,
I fly back to my home in the rushing cascade--
By the silvery streamlet my dark hair I braid,
And then when the sun once more sinks in the ocean,
I glide with a floating and passionless motion,
To my sister 'neath the boundless sea
And with her till morn dwell joyously.

***

And to think that this was written by a thirteen year old girl!

If you like Christina Rossetti's poetry, and would like to read more, I highly recommend the Penguin Classics edition of Christina Rossetti: The Complete Poems (edited by R.W. Crump, 2001, 1,221 pp.).

September 9, 2010

A Poem for the Day: "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" by William Wordsworth


Summer is coming to an end, and fall will be here before we know it.  Interestingly, over the past few days two of my friends ('Thanks!' Jan and Dixie) each reminded me of a poem written in 1804 by William Wordsworth (1770-1850) that has always been a favorite of mine, I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud (also known as Daffodils).  I love this poem!  It is a 'cup that simply and eloquently overflows with joy' every time I read it.  I thought that it might be nice to ease into the coming fall with a sublime memory of the summer we are leaving behind by posting the poem and sharing it with all of you.

I am also featuring a beautiful ceramic tile that was designed by Walter Crane (1845-1915).  Crane was an illustrator of books and loved graphic design, and was greatly influenced by the artists of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.  Crane, an Englishman, very much embraced the "Arts and Crafts" movement that flourished in England between 1880 and about 1910; and, in fact, became the first president of the "Arts and Crafts Exhibition Society in 1887.  Crane developed this design for the tile (at upper right) that was then prepared as a glazed ceramic tile by the Pilkington Tile and Pottery Co. Earthenware, and is thought to be circa 1900.  If you are interested in the English Arts and Crafts movement, I thoroughly recommend A.S. Byatt's recent novel, The Children's Book (2009).  Somehow this tile just reminds me of Wordsworth's beautiful poem.  Can you imagine having the back-splash of your kitchen, or the surround of your fireplace made up of this beautiful motif? ['Click' on the image for a larger view of this beautiful tile]


I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
and twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

(1804)

***

August 26, 2009

"There's Blood Between Us" - Christina & Dante Rossetti


I want to wind up my recent focus on the poetry of both, Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830-1894), and her older brother, Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882), with an interesting side-by-side comparison and analysis of her poem, The Convent Threshold; and his poem, The Blessed Damozel. Both of these poems are relatively lengthy, and I'll not reproduce them here. I have included a link to each poem that you can open and print, if you like, to help in following the discussion below.

Christina Rossetti's The Convent Threshold; and
Dante Gabriel Rossetti's The Blessed Damozel.

I am going to start with Dante Rossetti's The Blessed Damozel that was largely written in 1847, when he was just 18 years old. Apparently, he worked on the poem, off and on, until he was satisfied and finally completed it in 1871. The completion of the poem, in my opinion, was ultimately affected by his relationship with, and marriage to, Elizabeth "Lizzie" Siddal (See my August 25th posting: The Muse of Dante Gabriel Rossetti). Additionally, this poem became one part of a "doubled-work" by Rossetti combined with his eponymous Pre-Raphaelite painting (painted between 1875-1878). In fact, the first four stanzas of the poem are inscribed on the bottom portion of the frame surrounding the finished painting which is exhibited in the Fogg Museum of Art on the campus of Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

This diptych, or two-piece, painting is vintage Pre-Raphaelite in style; it is opulent, and loaded with details. The larger top portion of the painting is of the 'Damozel' looking down from Heaven with three cherubs, or angels. She holds the three lilies in her hand, and has stars in her hair; both of these elements are referenced in lines 5-6 of the poem's first stanza, and again in the fifth line of the eighth stanza. Additionally, there are a myriad of small vignettes of other couples embracing and kissing that wreathe her head in the background (referred to in the seventh stanza). The predella, or the small panel below the larger main painting, is separated by the "gold bar" referenced in the second line of the first stanza in the poem; and shows the poem's male subject reclined on the grass under an oak tree looking up, skyward, toward Heaven and his Lover. Also, the model used for the Damozel was Alexa Wilding who bears an uncanny resemblance to Dante Rossetti's late-wife, Lizzie Siddal, who died in 1862.

Dante Rossetti's poem, The Blessed Damozel, contains three voices. The first voice is that of the Damozel in Heaven. The second voice is that of her Lover, from whom she is separated as he is still Earth-bound, and generally represents his memories or the fantasies of their Love. The third voice is also that of the Earth-bound Lover, and represents his current state of consciousness, and is indicated in the poem in the parenthetical sections.

The poem's plot revolves around the separation of the lovers; she in Heaven, he on Earth. She yearns to be rejoined with him, and she sees other couples joined together in their love around her. She prays that he be allowed to join her, and hopes that he too is praying for their reunion; and that they now be allowed to live in Heaven as they lived together on Earth before she 'left' [died]. Eventually though, she comes to realize that she must move on with her journey 'through' Heaven; and that they will only be rejoined when the time is right, i.e., when Death finally comes for him. From his perspective, on Earth, looking up to Heaven, the vision of his beloved and her angels begin to dim and recede, and he is left alone. Ultimately, it seems that Rossetti's poem is a kind of Gothic imagining of passage through Heaven's various levels. As you will see, it is my contention that Dante's vision of this journey is a 'softer,' more gentle vision than the one put forward by his sister in her poem.

Some thirty years after Dante Rossetti began working on the poem, he stated that it was his sequel to Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven (1845). While Poe's poem deals with the grief of the Earth-bound lover at his loss, Rossetti's poem deals more with the desires of the loved one in Heaven. Also, it is thought that Dante Rossetti borrowed the stanzaic form of his poem from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's long poem, The Poet's Vow.

Now, lets turn our attention to the beautiful lyrical poem by Dante's younger sister, Christina Rossetti. Her poem, The Convent Threshold was first published in 1862 in her book of poetry entitled, Goblin Market and Other Poems. Most scholars believe, and I agree, that this poem was Christina's response to Dante's theme presented in The Blessed Damozel, i.e., the concept of separation and reunion; but she took it a step farther. Christina's poem delves into the Christian concept of redemption and some measure of suffering and sacrifice associated with the atonement before salvation can be finally achieved.

Christina's poem, The Convent Threshold takes a distinctly different approach than Dante's. Her poem has a much more overt theological basis; and revolves around the expiation of guilt. Christina's poem's voice, like Dante's, is female and is in a 'higher' plane [the Convent] and looks upward toward Heaven. The Speaker's Lover, like Dante's, is Earth-bound and still largely focused on the pleasures of life.

Interestingly, the poem starts off with a reference to the "blood between" the two lovers. The first three lines of the poem are:

"There's blood between us, love, my love,
There's father's blood, there's brother's blood,
And blood's a bar I cannot pass."

This is some incredible imagery, and can likely be interpreted several ways. Is it the allusion to the illicit sexual union of the two lovers? Or, is it a reference to the relationship between Dante Rossetti and his wife, Lizzie (who died the same year this poem was published), and bad feelings between the families? Or, is it a reference to the obsession that Dante had with his namesake, Dante Alighieri, and his guide in the Divine Comedy, Beatrice Portinari. There may be other interpretations as well; but the upshot is that the poem's Speaker renounces the "pleasant sin" that they shared. She acknowledges that her "lily feet are soiled with mud, with scarlet mud which tells a tale," and she is determined to seek absolution through rejecting the earthly pleasures and embracing the path of righteousness to Heaven.

Christina's speaker has moments of regret it seems (Sixth stanza, Lines 2-8), but she resolutely turns back to her path toward salvation. She continues to beg her earth-bound Lover to join her in repentance and seek redemption as well. In Dante's poem, the Damozel takes the matter into her own hands and prays for her Lover's redemption, and hopes that he is praying too. Christina makes it clear that seeking and achieving redemption is solely an individual act. In other words, in Christina's poem, the earth-bound Lover is completely in control of his own destiny; the final outcome (their reunion) is up to him.

The next part of Christina's poem describes her Speaker's journey through sin, hope, sacrifice, and redemption. Unlike Milton in Paradise Lost, Christina Rossetti fully embraces the idea of sacrificial atonement. The Speaker has to truly suffer before she can achieve Paradise (Stanzas 7-9), i.e., like a trip through Purgatory. These three stanzas are the darkest of the poem, and reminds me of the Apocalyptic visions of John while on the island of Patmos.

In the end though, Christina Rossetti brings her Speaker successfully to the end of her journey; she has atoned for her sins, has paid with her sacrifices:

"But through the dark my silence spoke
Like thunder. When this morning broke,
My face was pinched, my hair was grey,
And frozen blood was on the sill
Where stifling in my struggle I lay.
If now you saw me you would say:
Where is the face I used to love?
And I would answer: Gone before;
It tarries veiled in paradise.
When once the morning star shall rise,
When earth with shadow flees away
And we stand safe within the door,
Then you shall lift the veil thereof.
Look up, rise up: for far above
Our palms are grown, our place is set;
There we shall meet as once we met,
And love with old familiar love."

(Stanza Nine)

***

"We stand safe within the door." They have crossed the 'threshold,' and are together again with their Love.

***

This has been a most fascinating little research project for me; and one that I have truly enjoyed. I would love to hear from any of you who have read this regarding your assessments of my analysis. I do know that I have gained a tremendous appreciation for the poetry of this incredibly gifted brother and sister (and in Dante's case, as a painter too). In conclusion, I am of the opinion that, of the two, Christina Rossetti is the more mature, talented, and meaningful poet. It has been said that Christina Rossetti, with Alfred, Lord Tennyson, were the two greatest poets of the Victorian Era. I quite agree.

August 25, 2009

The Muse of Dante Gabriel Rossetti


On August 19th, I posted an entry about Christina Rossetti (1830-1894) and included her beautiful poem, An Echo From Willowwood. Today, I want to expand upon this earlier post, and provide some additional background information and some more poetry.

As I mentioned in the earlier post, Christina Rossetti, and her older brother, Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882), were inspired to write poetry based upon some sketches drawn by Dante's wife, Elizabeth "Lizzie" Siddal (1829-1862). Lizzie had sketched pictures of a man and woman (Dante and herself) leaning over a pool of water looking at their reflections; and the images then becoming blurred and merging together with a puff of wind across the water's surface. It was this vivid imagery that served to inspire the poetry of both Rossetti siblings.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti probably met Lizzie Siddal in 1852 or 1853, and began to use her as a model to the exclusion of all others. With her classical beauty and copper-red hair she was one of the early Pre-Raphaelite period's stunningly beautiful models, or "stunners" as they were called. After seven or eight years together, Dante and Lizzie were married on May 23, 1860 in Hastings, England. Several months after giving birth to a still-born daughter in 1861, Lizzie Siddal died of an overdose of laudanum on February 11, 1862. While the coroner ruled that the death was accidental, there was speculation that it was a suicide. So great was Dante's grief over the death of his wife, that he placed his hand-written journal, containing the only versions of much of his poetry, in his wife's coffin, nestled in the tresses of her red hair.

With even a casual read of Dante's poetry, and review of his paintings, it is abundantly clear that Lizzie Siddal served as the artistic muse to Dante Gabriel, influencing his painting and his poetry. For example, in 1855, he painted Dante's Vision of Rachel and Leah; but one of his most famous works, Beata Beatrix was painted over a period of time following Lizzie's death in 1862 . I have attached an image of Dante Gabriel Rossetti's painting of Lizzie Siddal the beautiful Beata Beatrix to this post.

Much of the poetry included in Dante's book of poetry, The House of Life (1869) was also influenced by his intimate relationship with Lizzie Siddal. While macabre, in order to prepare the poetry manuscript, Dante had to have his wife's body exhumed in order to retrieve the journal of poems from her casket.

I want to highlight two poems today. The first, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, is from his 1869 book of poems, The House of Life, and is entitled Willowwood. This collection of four sonnets is the companion poem to Christina Rossetti's An Echo From Willowwood that I posted on August 19th.

***

Willowwood

I


I sat with Love upon a woodside well,

Leaning across the water, I and he;

Nor ever did he speak nor looked at me,

But touched his lute wherein was audible
The certain secret thing he had to tell:
Only our mirrored eyes met silently
In the low wave; and that sound came to be
The passionate voice I knew; and my tears fell.

And at their fall, his eyes beneath grew hers;
And with his foot and with his wing-feathers

He swept the spring that watered my heart’s drouth.

Then the dark ripples spread to waving hair,
And as I stooped, her own lips rising there
Bubbled with brimming kisses at my mouth.


II

And now Love sang: but his was such a song,
So meshed with half-remembrance hard to free,

As souls disused in death’s sterility

May sing when the new birthday tarries long.

And I was made aware of a dumb throng

That stood aloof, one form by every tree,

All mournful forms, for each was I or she,

The shades of those our days that had no tongue.


They looked on us, and knew us and were known;
While fast together, alive from the abyss,

Clung the soul-wrung implacable close kiss;

And pity of self through all made broken moan

Which said, ‘For once, for once, for once alone!’

And still Love sang, and what he sang was this:—


III


‘O ye, all ye that walk in Willow-wood,
That walk with hollow faces burning white;

What fathom-depth of soul-struck widowhood,

What long, what longer hours, one lifelong night,
Ere ye again, who so in vain have wooed

Your last hope lost, who so in vain invite

Your lips to that their unforgotten food,

Ere ye, ere ye again shall see the light!


Alas! the bitter banks in Willowwood,

With tear-spurge wan, with blood-wort burning red:

Alas! if ever such a pillow could

Steep deep the soul in sleep till she were dead,—

Better all life forget her than this thing,

That Willowwood should hold her wandering!’


IV


So sang he: and as meeting rose and rose
Together cling through the wind’s wellaway

Nor change at once, yet near the end of day

The leaves drop loosened where the heart-stain glows,—

So when the song died did the kiss unclose;

And her face fell back drowned, and was as grey

As its grey eyes; and if it ever may
Meet mine again I know not if Love knows.


Only I know that I leaned low and drank

A long draught from the water where she sank,

Her breath and all her tears and all her soul:

And as I leaned, I know I felt Love’s face

Pressed on my neck with moan of pity and grace,

Till both our heads were in his aureole.


Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 1869

***

The second poem is by Christina Rossetti and is entitled In An Artist's Studio, and was posthumously published in 1896, following her death in 1894. It is clear to me that Christina's simple, but powerful, poem is about her brother and his wife (Lizzie Siddal). I think that on one level Christina's poem has touched upon his almost-obssessive love for Lizzie; and on another level, maybe the poem addresses how men tend to view women, i.e., fantasy versus reality; especially given the lines, "A queen in opal or in ruby dress," and "A saint, an angel — every canvas means." Finally, the poignancy of the poem's last two lines perfectly illustrates, to me, the tortured lives and relationship shared by Lizzie Siddal and Dante Gabriel Rossetti.

***

In An Artist's Studio

One face looks out from all his canvases,
One selfsame figure sits or walks or leans:
We found her hidden just behind those screens,
That mirror gave back all her loveliness.
A queen in opal or in ruby dress,
A nameless girl in freshest summer-greens,
A saint, an angel — every canvas means
The same one meaning, neither more or less.
He feeds upon her face by day and night,
And she with true kind eyes looks back on him,
Fair as the moon and joyful as the light:
Not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim;
Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright;
Not as she is, but as she fills his dream.

Christina Rossetti

***

August 19, 2009

A Poem for the Day - "An Echo From Willowwood"




An Echo From Willowwood

"O ye, all ye that walk in Willowwood." D.G. Rosetti

Two gazed into a pool, he gazed and she,
Not hand in hand, yet heart in heart, I think,
Pale and reluctant on the water's brink
As on the brink of parting which must be.
Each eyed the other's aspect, she and he,
Each felt one hungering heart leap up and sink,
Each tasted bitterness which both must drink,
There on the brink of life's dividing sea.
Lilies upon the surface, deep below
Two wistful faces craving each for each,
Resolute and reluctant without speech: —
A sudden ripple made the faces flow
One moment joined, to vanish out of reach:
So those hearts joined, and ah! were parted so.

Christina Rossetti, mid- to late-1860s?

***

It is interesting to note that this poem plays off of the 'Willowwood' sonnets written by Christina's older brother, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, one of the founders of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. Dante wrote his sonnets about his wife, Lizzie Siddal, who died in 1862 due to laudanum addiction. So the story goes, Lizzie had left sketches of herself and Dante looking into pools of water together; these sketches then inspired the poetry of both Rossetti siblings. Finally, Lizzie Siddal also served as the model for Sir John Everett Millais's famous Pre-Raphaelite painting "Ophelia."