Who Decides?

In Byron's Don Juan Canto I there is a footnote that discusses line 210 that involves a comparison between Donna Inez and Lady Byron. The footnote discusses the similarities in behavior (specifically referencing trying "to prove her loving lord was mad" (210))  between Donna Inez and Lady Byron, because Lady Byron had also sought medical advice about whether Lord Byron was crazy. However, the footnote then continues to say that Lord Byron "insisted that Donna Inez was not intended to be a caricature of Lady Byron."
There is a clear comparison between these two women, yet the author himself said that a reader who draws this comparison does so incorrectly. This got me thinking. Does the author have this power? Can't the author be wrong about his own work? I personally don't think that Lord Byron has the authority, nor does any author, to come out and say what his work means. The author can say what they intended, but that is different from the actual meaning. For example, if I say something about a friend that I mean to be funny but everyone else around me takes offense, then the comment is offensive. I did not intend it that way, but that is how it was perceived. Communication relies on the perceiver not the sender, and with a published work, the poem is the author communicating with the reader. The reader ultimately should have the power to decide what the poem is about and what it means.
I also think it is important to note that the author can subconsciously reference things. Byron may not have intended to invoke Lady Byron in his depiction of Donna Inez, but for this suggests that he potentially may have thought to include that line because it was something he experienced even if he did not realize at the time why he was writing the line. Once again, the perceiver has the power, because we as humans are not very good at reading ourselves. Therapy is a perfect example of this process. We say and do things because we think they mean one thing, but when someone sees a therapist he or she realizes that the reason for cry when they get a bad grade isn't really about a job, it goes back to trying to impress his or her parents. I personally think that this line is too conveniently tied to a part of Byron's life to simply be dismissed as a coincidence, but regardless I think as the reader I should get to decide no matter what Byron says.

Byron's Upside-Down Apocalypse

Brughel, The Tower of Babel

Jacques-Louis David’s The Death of Socrates

There are already a few posts about “Darkness,” but it’s been a rough and very weird day wherein many students, myself included, were locked in dark windowless places during one of the most beautiful light-filled days of the semester. So perhaps this is especially relevant and too close to home at the moment.

Coming off the fanciful dream-imaginings and flirtations with Death involved in reading Keats, I was struck in reading Byron’s “Darkness,” which so ominously begins: “I had a dream, which was not at a dream” (1). Keats’ romantic vision of a waking dream end, albeit his own individual ending, is immediately swept away with the speaker of this poem proclaiming: “All earth was but one thought — and that was death, / Immediate and inglorious” (42-43). Any poem-painting of an end-times even broaching on the baroque seems impossible here. This is not Jacques-Louis David’s depiction of the death of Socrates, but instead a Babel painting by Brueghel, elaborate, surely, though muted and ominous in its twisting lines and lack of human figures.

And this is different than most end-times stories. The lion and the lamb lay down, sort of: “The wildest brutes / Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl’d / And twined themselves among the multitude, / Hissing, but stingless — they were slain for food” (34-37). The paradoxes multiple but remain less than startling and “stingless.”

My favorite lines involve the upside-down mountain of the volcano, which becomes a place of refuge instead of Pompey-horror: “Happy were those who dwelt within the eye / Of the volcanoes, and their mountain-torch: / A fearful hope was all the world contain’d” (16-18). In the end, not only does everything somehow become its opposite, but what once represented doom transforms into a “fearful hope.”

This poem also provoked the question, for me, regarding how one writes about nothingness. Or a fantastical space – the future, the death of the universe – as non-fantastical, i.e. the “chaos of hard clay”? (72). Another work that I think does this trick especially well is Cormac McCarthy’s novel The Road, where nothing really happens in a desolate atom-bombed landscape for hundreds of pages, and yet an artwork is produced. It is a dream suspended dreamless, all hard stuff lumped at the bottom.

I don’t have much else to comment on this poem at the moment, but I appreciated the other posts on it and I look forward to Kathleen’s presentation tomorrow! I liked Addie’s idea of Byron “captur[ing] the end of humanity by honing in on the small characteristics that make us human,” even though I read the poem as distinctly humanless. Perhaps this is a more hopeful reading of the poem; something that makes “Darkness” light.

some "Darkness" things

I’m presenting on “Darkness” tommorow so here are some kind of related odds & ends that hopefully won’t make it so we have nothing to talk about tomorrow… :

"Manfred"

Manfred is referred to a lot as a “Child of Clay” (131)—the concept of man being made from clay is Biblical and also a characteristic of many religions (Genesis 2:7—“And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul”). The Bible/religious allusions in “Manfred” are offset and/or questioned by the supernatural elements; ultimately Manfred really defies religion by defying Abbot and choosing to die alone rather than to be saved.

The involvement and sort of reappropration of religion reminded me of the last two men in “Darkness” who use “holy things/For an unholy usage” (59-60) when they burn the holy artifacts on an altar for light rather than for worship. Manfred’s Spirit also tells Abbot in Act 3 Scene 4 to “Waste not thy holy words on idle uses”—another holy/unholy moment.

The clay is also present in “Darkness”---the world becomes “a chaos of hard clay” (72), another interesting/sort-of perversion of religion and man, where the clay becomes hardened and perhaps thus dissociated from God.

In Act 3 Scene 3 Abbot says: “It is an awful chaos—light and darkness—/And mind and dust—and passions and pure thoughts/Mix’d, and contending without end or order/All dormant or destructive” (3.3 164-7). These ideas are interesting to think about with “Darkness,” too—there is a chaos in the mix, but then also in “Darkness” men have lost their passions and are in perhaps a different kind of chaos.

"Epitaph to a Dog"

The poem suggests that this dog, despite being “deny’d in Heaven,” had “all the virtues of man without his Vices.”  The speaker of the poem is mourning what he considers to have been his only true friend; whereas the honors on men’s tombs describe them in perhaps faulty/or overly complimentary terms, the speaker seems to feel that a dog is deserving of such praise in a way that men are not. This was written after the death of Byron’s dog Boatswain in 1808, who was (according to Wikipedia) sick with rabies and who he also apparently cared for until the dog’s death without caring there was a chance he could have been infected. Wikipedia also notes that the dog’s tomb is bigger than Byron’s.

There’s also a dog in “Darkness,” and he appears to play the same loving role—of course he is the only dog to do so—thus it isn’t just a general appreciation for dogs but rather an affection for this one dog who demonstrates the virtue of man without his vice. After learning about this poem and Byron’s affection for his dog the one true/pure dog in “Darkness” is even more interesting.

"She Walks in Beauty"

I think the line “all that’s best of dark and bright” (3) is interesting to look at in the context of “Darkness,” just as it draws that light/dark contrast ought that is obviously important in both. It’s interesting to think, too, about the “She” in this poem in contrast with the final “She” of “Darkness”—who is darkness. The footnote obviously informs us that Byron supposedly wrote “She Walks in Beauty” about Anne Wilmot, whereas the She in “Darkness” doesn’t appear to refer to any person as much as it does to a personification of the Darkness. Still, “She walks in beauty, like the night,” immediately associates the woman of “She Walks in Beauty” with another darkness. Her darkness appears to also be pure and “innocent” (18), though, a sentiment that is pretty absent from “Darkness.”  

The Sound of Silence

So I haven’t exactly done an intense analysis of this song in relation to “Darkness,” but the first line does personify it in a similar way (though of course Byron’s personification doesn’t come until the end of the poem). The vision/dream in this song is also interesting—especially as it is a vision and a dream and kind of blurs the line between the two, just as Byron does with the line “I had a dream, which was not all a dream” (1). The neon signs in “The Sound of Silence” are also a kind of aritificial light that perhaps aligns with the image of the fire in “Darkness,” though the song and poem do seem to consider religion differently.     

NBC’s Revolution

Maybe almost embarrassed to post this because it is admitting that I’ve seen some of this show. But I just thought of it so thought I’d throw it in… we all appear to remain interested in the concept of the lights “going off”—how we refer to losing light and electricity as “losing power.” The loss of light results in a chaotic dystopia in the show, too. Our obsession with imagining the end of the world/the possibility of the world ending doesn’t seem to have faded since Byron’s time---both the poem and show (and also the many other dystopic shows/movies that exist today) also feature the way that men play a key role in their own downfall.

What does the light bring?

Throughout Lord Byron’s apocalyptic “Darkness,” he describes the world ending in a slow and detailed manner. There is no “big bang” or gory description of bloody war (although there is definitely the implication of brutality and cannibalism). However, Byron captures the end of humanity by honing in on the small characteristics that make us human, all of which, the light enables us to have. Brian mentioned in his post the class system being dismantled by the need for fire and subsequent light. On a larger scale, the class system is representative of order and systematic culture. Along with this culture comes the innate need for companionship. “Men were gather’d round their blazing homes to look once more into each other’s face” (14-15). Solidarity has always been viewed by society as unhealthy – perhaps a punishment or even an experience to fear. It leads to an insanity that can only be cured by the presence and interaction of another human – as if one’s mind is dangerous when left alone with it.

Byron continues to discuss hope as a characteristic of humanity that quickly dwindles throughout the poem. “A fearful hope was all the world contain’ed” (18). This parallels the idea that “men forgot their passions in dread” (7). This emphasizes the idea that passion, love of something is worth living for – even a fearful hope provides the idea that eventually their will be something to live for again; however, “some lay down and hid their eyes and wept: and some did rest their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled” (23-25) suggests that hope has been lost. Those weeping have acknowledged the darkness and those smiling have accepted it.

Loyalty appears in the poem as one of the last components of humanity to exist. The last dog was “faithful to a corse, and kept the birds and beasts and famish’d men at bay, till… he died” (48-54). Even attempts to quell the darkness by grasping at basic human compassion cannot overcome the darkness. We see these traits disappear one by one and thus slowly diminish society as a whole until all that is left is fear. It is this fear that finally takes out the final two living humans when “they lifted up their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld each other’s aspects – saw, and shriek’d, and died.” The poem ends when all that is left in the darkness is a complete and total lack of purpose. Ships are “sailorless” and clouds have perish’d because the darkness “has no need.”  Society has been stripped of every aspect and characteristic that makes it human until the world is complete darkness; this creates a much more understated yet realistic and frightening image of the end of the world.  

The Growing Hopelessness of "Darkness"

            “Darkness” was born from a long tradition of apocalyptic poetry and imagery.  However, in describing the End of Days, Lord Byron imagines less of a vision of “fire and brimstone” and more of a subtle decline for humanity.  Rather than beginning with bleak imagery of a world that can not be recovered and humans that cannot be redeemed, “Darkness” demonstrates the slow deterioration of humanity’s hope.  In the beginning of the poem, Byron suggests that that humanity will endure and adapt to a world of darkness. However, ultimately he reveals how this hope cannot sustain itself and will eventually be extinguished by the forces of nature.   

            The poem’s description of how humanity first copes with the darkness demonstrates how humanity’s ingenuity has the potential to save the species.  The poem begins with the sun and stars being smothered by darkness.  Byron describes how mankind’s survival instinct is evoked by the darkness, for he states that the, “selfish prayer for light” (9) consumes all men.  To ensure their continued existence, men and women light fires – attempting to do all they can to adjust to the new world they exist in.  An instant benefit of the darkness is that the class system is dismantled, as the fact that both thrones and huts become pyres suggests a more level playing field between royalty and the poor.  Moreover, Byron describes how the range of emotions that accompany the loss of light extend beyond merely grief.  There are those who “wept” (24) and those who “howl’d” (31), however there are also those who “smiled” (25).  For example, Byron describes those who “dwelt within the eye / Of the volcanos” as “Happy” (16-17).  Byron even describes how the presence of such a threat to humanity existence causes humans to form bonds of friendship with one another, remarking how the survivors, “look once more into each other’s face” (15).  Therefore, Byron demonstrates how there may be unexpected fruits to the terrible situation.  However, the “fearful hope” (18) that was established by the burning watchtowers was not to last.

            The poem undergoes a sudden shift from suggesting that humanity can thrive in the darkness to asserting that man’s ruination is inevitable.  For example, Byron emphasizes that mankind’s downfall as being the result of its own penchant for conflict.  Byron details how the brief period of peace ended, stating, “War, which for a moment was no more, / Did glut himself again” (38-39).  The bonds of friendship that had been formed during the pyre-making evaporated, for “Even dogs assailed their masters” (47).  Even those who survived the conflict between humans, such as the last loyal dog or the last two enemy humans, succumbed to their wounds and died.  Therefore, even the innocents – the unsullied and the pure – were eventually wiped out not due to their own hand, but due to fortune.  Byron not only demonstrates how war is predestined in humans – he also makes it clear that its devastating effects are equally fated.  Even in circumstances as dire as that of the apocalypse, humanity will still find ways to reinvigorate its old cycles of violence.      

            The last lines of the poem, “And the clouds perish’d; Darkness had no need / Of aid from them – She was the Universe” (80-81), signify the overwhelming power of darkness.  The Earth is surrounded by darkness – it is a bright dot on the black canvas of space.  Byron views it as inevitable that the darkness will encroach upon the Earth.  He views it as a force that will sweep over the world without thought or sentiment.  Not even mankind’s strongest wishes and cleverest minds can prevent such a cataclysm.  In suggesting hope for humanity in the opening of the poem before revealing it to be a false aspiration, Byron ignites the reader’s optimism before dousing it completely.  Such a method of apocalyptic writing makes the pain of the End of Days that much more severe for the reader than a text that depicts the end as completely horrific.