END OF THE CENTURY

The Victorian era was a period of social, political, and ecconomic change. Some of the key Victorian poets during this time were, Lord Tennyson, Robert Browning, and Elizabeth Browning.

Change occurred with the end of Queen Victoria’s reign (1837-1901)[I] which meant a sense of loss and unrest for the Victorians. From this change, focus was placed on “sensibility” and “rigidity” which inspired “movement” in poetry. These sensual and emotive movements included a focus on aesthetics and decadance which suggested that poetry should convey sensual pleasure as opposed to a centralized focus on moral messages and meanings. “Aestheticism” was a concept with the intent to capture essence and beauty. This meant a heightened focus on colour, words, music- anything visually or sensually enhancing, inspiring, or beautiful.

Oscar Wilde and W. B. Yeats were men who found this concept enlightening.

Oscar Wilde was a playwrite, novelist, and poet who was convicted of “indecency” because he was a homosexual.

After Wilde was released from prison in 1897[II] he wrote a famous poem, perhaps a reflection of his state of mind, called The Ballad of Reading Gaol.

The following are specific stanza’s from The Ballad of Reading Gaol which I find are very different from his rich, aesthetic-style of writing (theatre, comedy, fairy-tales) and demonstrates his (what I would think would be a “darker state of mind”) as opposed to his previous comedic and “art is life” style of writing.

He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby grey;A cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.

Here, I picture a man walking in-line with other men, wearing a coveralls and reflecting on his life, thinking about his past, thinking about himself…

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blueWhich prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that wentWith sails of silver by.

“Tent of Blue” creates a visual sky within the words. There is a slow-motion feeling to this walk, like they are walking toward their fate, anticipating the inevitable…

I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,'THAT FELLOW'S GOT TO SWING.'

The second line insinuates he is observing a man walking toward his fate, he’s observing his behaviour, wondering what the man is contemplating. He is wondering what kind of crime this individual had committed. The implication of “little” leads me to wonder what constitutes a small crime, or an insignificant crime- it also leads me to belive that he himself realizes the systems injustice and that he considers his institutional commitment as unjust. That he is aware of his crime being a “little thing”…

Dear Christ! the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.

At this point I feel something dramatic has happened. There is a change of pace. I feel he’s been taken a different direction, physically put somewhere or he’s back inside the prison walls. He was somber, curious, and reflective when he was outside- now he’s frantic and panicky- like he’s been led inside…

I only knew what hunted thought
Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.

He realizes this man was looking at the day unlike many would contemplate the day- he was looking at like it was his last day.

This poem is about the death chamber and is haunting and disturbing. Much of the poem describes the events leading up to the prisoner’s death. Near the end he talks about man-made law and the idea harsh realities of the institution…

I know not whether Laws be right,
Or whether Laws be wrong;
All that we know who lie in gaol
Is that the wall is strong;
And that each day is like a year,A year whose days are long.

But this I know, that every Law
That men have made for Man,
Since first Man took his brother's life,
And the sad world began,But straws the wheat and saves the chaff
With a most evil fan.

This too I know - and wise it were
If each could know the same -That every prison that men build
Is built with bricks of shame,
And bound with bars lest Christ should see
How men their brothers maim.

Here he describes the bitter realities of prison. The weak become weaker, the tough become tougher- all of them becoming “harder” people. The conditions of the jail – poor diet and poor chambers- the violence and inhumanity. “And all but lust” – perhaps this is insinuating (forced) homosexual experiences and assault.

For they starve the little frightened child
Till it weeps both night and day:
And they scourge the weak, and flog the fool,
And gibe the old and grey,
And some grow mad, and all grow bad,
And none a word may say.

Each narrow cell in which we dwell
Is a foul and dark latrine,
And the fetid breath of living Death
Chokes up each grated screen,
And all, but Lust, is turned to dust
In Humanity's machine.

The brackish water that we drink
Creeps with a loathsome slime,
And the bitter bread they weigh in scales
Is full of chalk and lime,
And Sleep will not lie down, but walks
Wild-eyed, and cries to Time.

"Wild-eyed" implies Wilde himself, looking wild-eyed like the many men who endured the same pain and circumstance.



[I] Note from lecture 2/28/05
[II] http://en.wikipedia.org