Archive for December 20th, 2008

Again I’m guilty of skipping a bit in the sequence of sonnets. Unlike my leap from Sonnet 3 to Sonnet 18, my small hop from Sonnet 19 to 21 has nothing to do with seeking variety. This time, it’s simply because I’m still puzzling my way through Sonnet 20. (Remember, these interpretations are entirely mine — I am not consulting other scholars before writing them, so if I get stuck on a particular sonnet, I remain stuck until I figure it out.)

This much I have gotten out of 20: if Sonnet 19 could potentially be read as a love poem from one man to another, Sonnet 20 appears to be far less ambiguous on that point. The speaker of Sonnet 20 is probably male, and the object of the poem is almost certainly so.

Having said that, for Sonnet 21 (which is yet another poem of adoration), I’m defaulting in my interpretation back to “male speaker adores female object.” Regardless of whether an individual agrees that Shakespeare had intimate relationships with other men, all Shakespeare scholars (as far as I’m aware) agree that he definitely had intimate relations with at least one woman in his lifetime. This is, therefore, the most likely scenario with any particular love poem, unless that poem contains definite clues to the contrary.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you:

Sonnet 21

So is it not with me as with that Muse,
Stirr’d by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
Making a couplement of proud compare’
With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems,
With April’s first-born flowers, and all things rare,
That heaven’s air in this huge rondure hems.
O! let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother’s child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fix’d in heaven’s air:
Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
I will not praise that purpose not to sell.

What I get out of it

Praising beauty?

Shakespeare opens Sonnet 21 by setting up a stereotypical “Muse,” or poet, inspired to write poetry by his “painted beauty.” This Muse’s poetry, Shakespeare imagines, would “proud[ly] compare” the object of such a love-song “with sun and moon,” “gems,” “flowers,” and all other “things” of “rare” beauty beneath “heaven’s air.” Such a poem, according to the Bard, would be recited by “every fair” lad to “his fair” lady (or vice-versa), as the flowery phrases would be worthy to be used by “heaven itself.”

Awww, how sweet.

Shakespeare (or the poetic speaker he creates) would not write such a poem. It is “not with me as with that Muse,” he points out; such a lovely bit of rhyme might be fine for another poet, but Shakespeare’s speaker has different ideas.

“Let me,” the speaker pleads, “truly write, […] my love is as fair as any mother’s child.” However, unlike the other, stereotypical poet’s affection, this love is not meant to shine “so bright” as the stars “fix’d in heaven’s air,” for all to see. Allow more flamboyant poets to “say more” about their loves if they wish, but Shakespeare’s speaker “will not praise” so extravagantly a lady whom he “purpose[s] not to sell.”

Is it relevant?

Yes. As a high school teacher I work, on a daily basis, with children convinced that their current boyfriends or girlfriends are the most wonderful people on Earth. Some of these kids, bless them, occasionally write a bit of love poetry to their beloveds.

Some of them want to show me, their always-supportive literature teacher, the poetic masterpieces they’ve created.

*sigh*

Usually the best I can manage is a smile and a nod and a “very nice.” Phrases like “eyes like the sun/moon/stars” or “hair like a golden waterfall” tend to figure prominently. (Ok, the waterfall one is my own work, written in the early stages of dating the woman I married three weeks ago. Shameful, ain’t it?)

If any of these lovestruck teens continue to pursue their poetic aspirations, I know (or hope) that they will discover the horror that lies within cliché, the stickiness of excessive sweetness, and the ultimate commercial failure of the “roses are red” genre of verse. Shakespeare’s poetry has survived for so long in part because he rejected and satirized that approach to writing love songs. In Sonnet 130 (“My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”) and related poems, Shakespeare’s wit utterly destroys the stereotypical poetry described here in Sonnet 21… which makes 130 one of his best-known and most-loved poems even now, four centuries later.

…The “hair like a golden waterfall” bit wasn’t that bad, was it? Was it?

To keep thee from the evil woman, from the flattery of the tongue of a strange woman.

Lust not after her beauty in thine heart; neither let her take thee with her eyelids.
– Proverbs 6:24-25

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