Tuesday, 31 March 2020

THE LANGUAGE OF PARADOX---Cleanth Brooks




THE LANGUAGE OF PARADOX

Cleanth Brooks


Lecture Notes by Dr. S. Sreekumar


[This is an attempt to analyze Cleanth Brooks’ ‘The Language of Paradox’. It is more of a compilation rather than an original critical commentary and is offered with the sole intention of helping students and research scholars with a quick overview of Brooks’ contribution to English Criticism.]


Cleanth Brooks (1906—1994), an American teacher and critic whose work was important in establishing New Criticism, was born in Murray, Kentucky to a Methodist minister, the Reverend Cleanth Brooks. He was educated at Vanderbilt University and at Tulane University. Brooks was a Rhodes Scholar before he began teaching at Louisiana State University.

From 1935 to 1942, with Charles W. Pipkin and poet and critic Robert Penn Warren, Brooks edited The Southern Review, a journal that advanced New Criticism and published the works of a new generation of Southern writers. Brooks’ critical works include Modern Poetry and the Tradition (1939) and The Well Wrought Urn (1947). Authoritative college texts by Brooks, with others, reinforced the popularity of New Criticism: Understanding Poetry (1938) and Understanding Fiction (1943), written with Warren, and Understanding Drama (1945), with Robert Heilman.


Brooks’ later works included Literary Criticism: A Short History (1957; co-written with William K. Wimsatt); A Shaping Joy: Studies in the Writer’s Craft (1972); The Language of the American South (1985); Historical Evidence and the Reading of Seventeenth Century Poetry (1991); and several books on William Faulkner, including William Faulkner: The Yoknapatawpha Country (1963), William Faulkner: Toward Yoknapatawpha and Beyond (1978), William Faulkner: First Encounters (1983), and Firm Beliefs of William Faulkner (1987).

[Indebted to www.britannica.com]

[Brooks and New Criticism—see Appendix]



A SUMMARY [1800 WORDS]


‘The Language of Paradox’, the first chapter of Cleanth Brooks’ Well-wrought Urn, begins with the famous statement: ‘...the language of poetry is the language of paradox’. Paradox is the language of ‘sophistry, hard, bright’ and ‘witty’ and not the language of poetry. ‘Our prejudices force us to regard paradox as intellectual rather than emotional, clever rather than profound, rational rather than divinely irrational’. The scientist may need freedom from paradox, but for the poet, truth can be ‘approached’, only through paradox.

Paradoxes in Wordsworth

Brooks quotes paradoxes from Wordsworth, a poet who insisted on simplicity and was suspicious of sophistication. He quotes the sonnet ‘It is a Beauteous Evening’ as an example. The sonnet highlights a paradoxical situation. 

The poet is filled with divine thoughts, unlike the girl. But her nature is not less divine. She worships more deeply as her mind is filled with an unconscious sympathy (unconscious worship) for all of Nature. As Coleridge wrote: He prayeth best, who loveth best/ All things both great and small. 

The girl is in communion with Nature “all the year.” Her devotion is continual whereas the poet’s is sporadic and momentary. But the paradox is not finished. It ‘informs’ the poem. The calm of the evening parallels the trappings of the nun, visible to everyone, suggesting ‘Pharisaical holiness’ with which the girl’s careless innocence, ‘a symbol of her continual secret worship’, stands in contrast.

Then Brooks takes up another sonnet: “Composed upon Westminster Bridge.”  Many readers cannot account for the poem’s greatness. There is very little ‘nobility’ in the sentiments. The images are neither graphic nor realistic. The sonnet contains ‘some very flat writing’ and ‘well-worn comparisons’. Despite these drawbacks, the poem becomes great because of ‘the paradoxical situation’ from which it is born.

It is a paradox that ‘grimy, feverish’ London can “wear the beauty of the morning”. Mount Snowden or Mont Blanc can ‘wear beauty by natural right’, but not London. ‘Man-made London is a part of nature too, is lighted by the Sun of nature, and lighted to as beautiful effect’. The ‘stale metaphor’ (‘sleeping houses’) in the last two lines is revitalized because the poet sees the city as organic, and not mechanical. He thought the houses dead but now realizes that they were only asleep.

Paradoxes in Neoclassical Poets

The neo-classics also use paradoxes which ‘insist on irony, rather than wonder’. Brooks quotes from Pope’s "The Essay on Man”:


In doubt his Mind or Body to prefer; / Born but to die, and reas’ning but to err; …
Created half to rise, and half to fall; /Great Lord of all things, yet a Prey to all; …


Whether a poet is Romantic or Classic does not matter because poetic language is the language of paradox.

Paradoxes spring from the nature of the poet’s language in which ‘the connotations play as great a part as the denotations’. The connotations are not external— ‘some sort of frill or trimming’. ‘I mean that the poet does not use a notation at all’ — as the scientist does. Science attempts to stabilize and ‘freeze’ terms into ‘strict denotations’. Poetry tends to destabilize. The terms in poetry modify each other and also violate their ‘dictionary meanings’.

Why do poets use paradox?

Poets work by analogies. Subtle states of emotions demand different metaphors for their expression. The metaphors may not be ‘in the same plane or fit neatly edge to edge’. Conversely, there is a ‘continual tilting of the planes, necessary overlappings, discrepancies, contradictions’, forcing the poet into paradoxes.

When ‘apparently simple and straightforward’ poets are ‘forced into paradoxes’ it will not surprise us to find some poets deliberately using paradoxes to get ‘a compression and precision otherwise unobtainable’. It is ‘not a perversion’ but an extension of the normal language of poetry.

An Example— Donne’s "Canonization”


The ‘basic metaphor’ here is a paradox. ‘The poet daringly treats profane love as if it were divine love’. The canonization is not that of a pair of holy anchorites who have renounced the world and the flesh. On the other hand, it is that of a pair of worldly lovers who found hermitage in each other’s body.  Their renunciation of the world and elevation to sainthood are cunningly argued.


The poem is a parody modern man fails to understand, says Brooks. Modern man sees paradox as a cheap trick and not as a ‘serious rhetorical device’. Hence he may believe that Donne does not take either love or sainthood seriously. Love becomes ‘a sort of mechanical exercise’ to sharpen wit and sainthood a subject for ‘cynical and bawdy parody’”.

Brooks tries to prove that Donne takes both love and religion seriously. The lover is absorbed in the world of love. The torments of love are obvious to him but the world is unaffected by that. The conflict between the lover’s world and the “real” world runs through the poem.

In the second and the third stanza the poet shifts the tone, ‘modulating’ from the initial ‘note of irritation’ into ‘the quite different tone’ at the end. The opening line of the fourth stanza,   ‘Wee can dye by it, if not live by love’, has ‘tenderness and deliberate resolution’. The lovers are ready to die. They are dedicated; they are not immature but ‘confident’. The lovers’ renunciation of the world is similar to the confident resolution of the saint.


Their love story will not be the subject of a ‘ponderous and stately chronicle’. The ‘pretty rooms’ of sonnets is sufficient for them. The well-wrought urn will provide ‘a finer memorial’ for the ashes than a ‘pompous and grotesque monument’— “half-acre tombes”, a phrase that shows the grossness and vulgarity of the world left behind by the lovers. Their legend, their story, will gain them canonization. Approved as love’s saints, other lovers will invoke them.

The theme receives ‘a final complication’ in the last stanza. By rejecting life, the lovers get ‘the most intense life’. This paradox has been hinted at earlier in the phoenix metaphor. Here it receives a powerful dramatization. The lovers in becoming hermits find that they have not lost the world, but have gained the world in each other, now a more intense, more meaningful world. The lovers “drive” into each other’s eyes “Countries, Townes,” and “Courtes,” ‘which they renounced in the first stanza of the poem’.  ‘The unworldly lovers thus become the most “worldly” of all’.

The poem ends on a tone of ‘triumphant achievement’.  ‘One of the important elements which work toward our acceptance of the final paradox is the figure of the phoenix’. The comparison of the lovers to the phoenix is connected to other comparisons of them to burning tapers and the eagle and the dove. The phoenix bird burns like the tapers. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries to “die” means to experience the consummation of the act of love. The lovers after the act are the same. Their love is not exhausted in mere lust. This is their title to canonization. Their love is like the phoenix.  

The theme of the poem is simple and can be stated directly—“Love in a cottage is enough”. Donne might have been ‘as forthright as a later lyricist’: “We’ll build a sweet little nest, somewhere out in the West’ or he might have imitated the metaphysical lyric: “You’re the cream in my coffee.” Instead, the poem includes and transcends all these observations.


Brooks writes about the suitability of paradox in this context:  I submit that the only way by which the poet could say what “The Canonization" says is by paradox. More direct methods may be tempting, but all of them enfeeble and distort what is to be said’. Without paradox and ‘its twin concomitants of irony and wonder’, Donne’s poem becomes ‘biological, sociological, and economic’. The lovers in the poem become divine because of the ‘supernaturalism’ conferred upon them.

Brooks believes that poets have to use paradox to express many important things. The language of love and religion are mostly paradoxical. “The Canonization” is an example of the language of love becoming paradoxical. Similarly, many memorable phrases in religion are paradoxical: “He who would save his life, must lose it”; “The last shall be first,” etc. Indeed, almost any insight important enough to warrant a great poem ‘apparently has to be stated in such terms’.


Paradox violates ‘science and common sense; it welds together the discordant and the contradictory’. Coleridge gives a ‘classic description of its nature and power’. It “reveals itself in the balance or reconcilement of opposite or discordant qualities: of `sameness, with difference; of the general, with the concrete; the idea with the image; the individual, with the representative: the sense of novelty and freshness, with old and familiar objects. . .

This statement with many paradoxes shows that Coleridge could not describe creative imagination in any other way. In conclusion, Brooks analyses Shakespeare’s ‘The Phoenix and the Turtle’ as it is ‘oddly parallel to the description’ given by Coleridge:

Reason, in itself  confounded,                                                                                                                   Saw division grow together,                                                                                       To themselves yet either neither,                                                                      Simple were so well compounded
                                                                                                                                               

Brooks explains: ‘The nature is single, one, unified. But the name is double, and today with our multiplication of sciences, it is multiple. If the poet is to be true to his poetry, he must call it neither two nor one; the paradox is his only solution’.

Though the name is double, the nature is single. The difficulty of seeing the double nature as single has intensified since Shakespeare’s day. Brooks believes that the poets have become ‘timid’ when they faced the problem of “Single Natures double name,” and hence had ‘funked’ it. ‘A history of poetry from Dryden’s time to our own might bear as its sub-title “The Half-Hearted Phoenix.”

Brooks points out that Reason is confused at the union of the Phoenix and the Turtle. Reason admits its ‘bankruptcy’ and utters the beautiful Threnody at the end:

Beauty, truth, and rarity,                                                                                                          Grace in all simplicity,                                                                                                                Here enclos'd, in cinders lie                                                                   ………………………………………  
To this urn let those repair      
                                                                                                          
The urn to which we are summoned and which holds the ashes of the phoenix is like the well-wrought urn of Donne’s “Canonization” which holds the phoenix-lovers’ ashes. It is the poem itself. The lines remind one of Keats’s Grecian urn, which contained for the poet ‘Truth’ and ‘Beauty’. Shakespeare’s urn contains “Beautie, Truth, and Raritie.” But ‘all such well-wrought urns contain the ashes of a Phoenix’.

The phoenix of poetry will not be reborn through measuring and chemical testing of the ashes. The paradox of imagination is indispensable for that. In poetry imagination makes things real, a paradoxical situation. But such a situation is essential for “Beautie, Truth, and Raritie” which otherwise will remain as cinders. Thus we will get only ashes for all our efforts.  


A DETAILED CRITICAL ANALYSIS

Preface to Well - wrought Urn


In the preface, Cleanth Brooks admits that he has not considered the historical background of the poems he has discussed. It is not because he has discounted or failed to take into account literary history. He has ignored literary history because of a feeling that very little will be left after referring a poem to its cultural background.

Speaking about the ‘relativistic’ temper of the times, Brooks comments:

We have had impressed upon us the necessity for reading a poem in terms of its historical context, and that kind of reading has been carried on so successfully that some of us have been tempted to feel that it is the only kind of reading possible. We tend to say that every poem is an expression of its age; that we must be careful to ask of it only what its own age asked; that we must judge it only by the canons of its age.
                                

This emphasis on the historical context rejected the view of art as ‘sub specie aeternitatis’ (as something universally/eternally true). [‘Sub specie aeternitatis’ is Latin for "under the aspect of eternity". Spinoza used it as an honorific expression describing what is universally and eternally true, without any reference to or dependence upon the temporal portions of reality’].

Brooks points out the difficulties of studying poetry against the historical background. If studied against the historical background poetry of the past may become significant as mere ‘cultural anthropology and poetry of the present may become merely political, or religious, or moral instrument’.  The poets referred to in Well-wrought Urn thought that their poems will transcend the limitations of time. They never wrote only for their generation. Brooks quotes the last 3 lines from Shakespeare’s Sonnet [65] to prove this point. 

Shakespeare in Sonnet 65 concludes that nothing withstands time's ravages. The hardest metals and stones, the vast earth and sea — all submit to time "Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, / But sad mortality o'er-sways their power." "O fearful meditation!" he cries, where can the young man hide that time won't wreak on him the same "siege of batt'ring days"?
The poet is certain that his sonnets will provide the youth immortality — his verse is the only thing that can withstand time's decay. Returning to the power of poetry to bestow eternal life, the poet asserts "That in black ink my love may still shine bright." (From Cliff Notes) 

Brooks sums up the preface by stating his aim in the book. It is to make ‘the closest possible examination of what the poem says as a poem.’

‘The Language of Paradox’

‘The Language of Paradox’ is the first chapter of  Well-wrought Urn. 

Brooks begins this essay with the famous statement: ‘...the language of poetry is the language of paradox’. [The term ‘paradox’ is analyzed in Notes 1] ‘Paradox is the language of sophistry, hard, bright, witty’. It is not ‘the language of the soul’. Nobody is surprised to see a paradox in Chesterton or in an epigram or a satire. But a paradox is not accepted in poetry. ‘Our prejudices force us to regard paradox as intellectual rather than emotional, clever rather than profound, rational rather than divinely irrational’, says Brooks.

[Comments: Poetry, for the majority of readers, is connected with emotions rather than with intellect. Paradox is an intellectual exercise and therefore deemed unfit for poetry. In this context, we may remember the complaints of many eighteenth-century critics about the intellectualism in Metaphysical poetry. Dryden, for example, complained that Donne, ‘…perplexes the minds of the fair sex with nice speculations of philosophy when he should engage their hearts and entertain them with the softnesses of love’.


Paradoxes in Wordsworth

Paradox is the language ‘appropriate and inevitable’ to poetry. The scientist needs a language free from paradox. But for the poet truth ‘can be approached, only in terms of paradox’. Brooks quotes an example for paradox from Wordsworth, a poet who insisted on simplicity and was suspicious of sophistication. A ‘typical Wordsworth poem is based upon a paradoxical situation’. The sonnet ‘It is a Beauteous Evening, Calm and Free’ highlights such a situation. 

Brooks analyses the paradox thus:

The poet is filled with worship, unlike the girl beside him. The implication is that she should respond to the holy time, and become like the evening, nun-like. But she seems less worshipful than inanimate nature itself. The poet says that though the girl appears unmoved by solemn thoughts, her nature is not less divine. The girl worships more deeply than the self-conscious poet because she is filled with an unconscious sympathy for all of nature, not merely the grandiose and solemn. Brooks is reminded of Wordsworth’s friend, Coleridge: He prayeth best, who loveth best/ All things both great and small. 
Unconscious sympathy is unconscious worship. The girl is in communion with nature “all the year,” and her devotion is continual whereas that of the poet is sporadic and momentary. But the paradox is not finished. It not only underlies the poem, but something of the paradox informs the poem. The comparison of the evening to the nun has more than one dimension. The calm of the evening means “worship,” It corresponds to the trappings of the nun, visible to everyone. Thus, it suggests not merely holiness, but, in the total poem, even a hint of Pharisaical holiness [The Pharisees was a Jewish sect that flourished during the 1st century B.C. and 1st century A.D. They practiced and advocated strict observance of external forms and ceremonies of religion or conduct without regard to the spirit, hence considered self-righteous; hypocritical. Now ‘Pharisee’ is synonymous with ‘crook’, ‘cheat’, ‘fraud’ etc.] with which the girl’s careless innocence, itself a symbol of her continual secret worship, stands in contrast. [Direct quotes included].

Then Brooks takes up another sonnet of Wordsworth: “Composed upon Westminster Bridge.”

Brooks thinks that many readers are unable to account for the poem’s greatness. The attempt to glorify the sonnet based on ‘the nobility of sentiment’ or ‘in terms of the brilliance of … images’ is doomed to failure, argues Brook. There is very little ‘nobility’ in the sentiments and the images are neither graphic nor realistic. The poet ‘simply huddles’ the details together resulting in a ‘blurred impression’. The sonnet contains ‘some very flat writing and some well-worn comparisons’. Despite all these drawbacks, the poem becomes great because of ‘the paradoxical situation’ out of which it is born.

It is a paradox that ‘grimy, feverish’ London can “wear the beauty of the morning”. Mount Snowden, Skiddaw, Mont Blanc — these ‘wear beauty by natural right’, but not London. This is the point of the ‘awed surprise’ and the ‘shocked exclamation’ brought into the poem:

Never did sun more beautifully steep                                                                    In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill

‘Man-made London is a part of nature too, is lighted by the Sun of nature, and lighted to as beautiful effect’. “The river glideth at his own sweet will . . .” The river is ‘the most natural thing one can imagine; it has the elasticity, the curved line of nature itself’. ‘Uncluttered’ by barges, the river reveals itself as a natural thing ‘not at all disciplined into a rigid and mechanical pattern’. It is like the daffodils, the mountain brooks—‘whimsical’ and ‘natural’.

The poem ends with the memorable lines:

‘Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;                                                                        And all that mighty heart is lying still!’

The ‘stale metaphor’ (‘sleeping houses’) is revitalized because the poet sees the city as organic, and not mechanical. He used to consider the houses as dead. But now he realizes that they are only asleep.

To say they are “asleep” is to say that they are alive, that they participate in the life of nature’. Similarly, ‘the tired old metaphor which sees a great city as a pulsating heart of empire becomes revivified’. It is only when the poet sees the city under the semblance of death that he can see it as actually alive — quick with the only life which he can accept, the organic life of "nature.”


In this context, we must remember the general purpose of Wordsworth in The Lyrical Ballads: “…to choose incidents and situations from common life” and to treat them so that “ordinary things should be presented to the mind in an unusual aspect." Later, Coleridge made the statement even more explicit:


Mr. Wordsworth . . . was to propose to himself as his object, to give the charm of novelty to things of every day, and to excite a feeling analogous to the supernatural, by awakening the mind’s attention from the lethargy of custom, and directing it to the loveliness and the wonders of the world before us . . . ‘Wordsworth, in short, was consciously attempting to show his audience that the common was really uncommon, the prosaic was really poetic’.


Thus, Wordsworth’s exploitation of the paradoxical is made obvious by Coleridge. The statement also highlights the Romantic ‘preoccupation with wonder’, the ‘revelation which puts the tarnished familiar world in a new light’. Brooks thinks that this is the ‘raison d’etre’ (most important reason) of most Romantic paradoxes’.

Paradoxes in Neoclassical Poets

The neo-classic poets also use paradox. Their paradoxes ‘insist on the irony, rather than the wonder’. Brooks quotes from Pope’s "The Essay on Man”:


In doubt his Mind or Body to prefer; / Born but to die, and reas’ning but to err; …
Created half to rise, and half to fall; /Great Lord of all things, yet a Prey to all; …
The Glory, Jest, and Riddle of the world!



Pope too was treating the things of every day, ‘man himself’, and ‘awakening his mind so that he would view himself in a new and blinding light’. There is ‘the awed wonder’ (of Wordsworth) in Pope as there are traces of irony (of Pope) in Wordsworth. ‘There is, of course, no reason why they should not occur together, and they do’.


Comments: Pope’s poetry has some Romantic qualities. Wordsworth’s has neo-classical features. If they occur together, it is not surprising. Brooks says that ‘paradoxes spring from the very nature of the poet’s language’. Whether a poet is Romantic or Classic does not seem to make much difference because the language of poetry used by both is the language of paradox.


The wonder and irony we associate with two different schools of poetry merge in the lyrics of Blake and in Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner. In Gray’s “Elegy” the setting is typically Romantic (‘Wordsworth “situation”’) ‘with the rural scene and with peasants contemplated in the light of their “betters.” But … the balance is heavily tilted in the direction of irony, the revelation an ironic rather than a startling one’.


Can storied urn or animated bust / Back to its mansion call the fleeting  breath?           Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust? / Or Flatt’ry sooth the dull cold ear of Death? 


Connotations and Denotations [Notes2]    

These quoted examples prove that ‘the paradoxes spring from the very nature of the poet’s language’ in which ‘the connotations play as great a part as the denotations’. The connotations are not ‘some sort of frill or trimming’. They are not external. ‘I mean that the poet does not use a notation at all — as the scientist may properly be said to do so. The poet, within limits, has to make up his language as he goes’. 

Comments: The poet does not use notation at all, says Brooks. Notation means ‘code’. Language is a code that has a fixed meaning. In that sense, the language of poetry has no notation, no code, no fixed meaning. Every poet creates his language as he goes on writing.  


Science attempts to stabilize and ‘freeze’ terms into ‘strict denotations’. Poetry tends to destabilize. The terms in poetry frequently modify each other and also violate their ‘dictionary meanings’. Eliot calls this the “perpetual slight alteration of language, words perpetually juxtaposed in new and sudden combinations”. Brooks underlines “perpetual”:  ‘It is perpetual; it cannot be kept out of the poem; it can only be directed and controlled’.

As an example, he cites some adjectives in Wordsworth’s evening sonnet; beauteous, calm, free, holy, quiet, breathless. ‘The juxtapositions are hardly startling…the evening is like a nun breathless with adoration’. “Breathless” suggests ‘tremendous excitement’. Yet the evening ‘is not only quiet but calm’. The particular kinds of calm and excitement ‘may well occur together’. There is no contradiction. But the poet uses no single term for this state. ‘Even if he had a polysyllabic technical term, the term would not provide the solution for his problem. He must work by contradiction and qualification’.

Why do poets use paradox?

Brooks feels that there is a reason in even ‘the most direct and simple poet’ using paradoxes. Poets work by analogies (similarities, parallels, correlations, comparisons, etc.). Subtle states of emotions demand different metaphors for their expression. The metaphors may not be ‘in the same plane or fit neatly edge to edge’. Conversely, there is a ‘continual tilting of the planes, necessary overlappings, discrepancies, contradictions’, forcing the poet into paradoxes. The task may be difficult but it may not defeat a poet. He may achieve a ‘fine precision’ with his method. 

Brooks quotes from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Act II, Scene I to prove his point. Polonius wants to find out what his son (Laertes) is ‘up to in Paris’. He instructs his man, Reynaldo to go to Paris and discover things by roundabout means — ‘By indirections find directions out’. [The image is from the game of lawn bowls where the skilled player makes a distorted bowl that becomes a curve]. This is also the method of art that is never direct unlike that of science which is always direct. 

The master of the game of bowls can always place the bowl where he wants it. Difficulties occur only when the game is confused with that of science and ‘the nature of the appropriate instrument’ is mistaken. Brooks quotes Mr. Stuart Chase who ‘urged us with a touching naiveté, ‘to take the distortion out of the bowl — to treat language like notation’.

Finding directions through indirections is the method adopted by poets when they employ paradox. 


Even ‘apparently simple and straightforward’ poets are ‘forced into paradoxes’ because of the nature of poetic language. So it will not surprise us to find some poets deliberately using paradoxes to get ‘a compression and precision otherwise unobtainable’. Though there may be dangers in the method, it is ‘not a perversion’ but an extension of the normal language of poetry.

A Concrete Example— Donne’s "Canonization”

The ‘basic metaphor’ of the poem is a sort of paradox. ‘The poet daringly treats profane love as if it were divine love’.

The canonization is not that of a pair of holy anchorites who have renounced the world and the flesh. The hermitage of each is the other’s body: but they do renounce the world, and so their title to sainthood is cunningly argued.


The poem is a ‘parody of Christian sainthood’, a ‘parody of a sort’ modern man fails to understand, says Brooks. Modern man sees paradox as a cheap trick and not as a ‘serious rhetorical device’. This creates a problem—Donne does not take either love or sainthood seriously. Love becomes ‘a sort of mechanical exercise’ to sharpen wit and sainthood a subject for ‘cynical and bawdy parody’.

Brooks attempt is to prove that Donne takes both love and religion seriously and paradox is his ‘inevitable instrument’. To see this, ‘a closer reading’ of the poem is necessary.

The First Stanza

‘The poem opens dramatically on a note of exasperation’. The ‘you’ the speaker addresses maybe a friend who objects to the speaker’s love affair. The friend ‘represents the practical world which regards love as a silly affectation’. He also ‘represents the secular world which the lovers have renounced’.

The speaker suggests to his friend some ‘contemptuous alternatives’ to ‘chide’ his weaknesses. The friend can admonish him for his ‘palsie’, or his ‘gout’, or his ‘five gray haires’, or ‘ruin’d fortune’. The ‘implications’ are clear:

All right, consider my love as an infirmity, as a disease, if you will, but confine yourself to my other infirmities, my palsy, my approaching old age, my ruined fortune. You stand a better chance of curing those; in chiding me for this one, you are simply wasting your time as well as mine. (2) Why don’t you pay attention to your own welfare — go on and get wealth and honor for yourself. What should you care if I do give these up in pursuing my love?

The two main types of ‘secular’ successes are ‘neatly, and contemptuously epitomized’ in
Or the Kings reall, or his stamped face . . .
The friend can become a courtier and gaze at the King’s real face or become a businessman and look at the King’s face stamped on coins. But let him leave the speaker alone.

The second stanza

The lover is absorbed in the world of love. The conflict between the lover’s world and the “real” world which runs through the poem dominates the second stanza. The torments of love are obvious to the lover but the world at large is unaffected by that.

            What merchants ships have my sighs drowned?

In the second stanza and in the third the poet shifts the tone of the poem, ‘modulating from the note of irritation with which the poem opens into the quite different tone with which it closes’. The ‘modulation of tone’ is achieved by an analysis of the ‘love metaphor’. The poet fills the stanza with the conventionalities of the Petrarchan tradition— ‘the wind of lovers’ sighs, the floods of lovers’ tears, etc.’ The friend may tease the lover with these expressions, but the speaker himself ‘recognizes the absurdity of the Petrarchan love metaphors’.

The very absurdity of the jargon which lovers are expected to talk makes for his argument: their love, however absurd it may appear to the world, does no harm to the world. The practical friend need have no fears: there will still be wars to fight and lawsuits to argue.

The Third Stanza

The mood of irony is maintained in the third stanza. The speaker points out the numerous ‘absurdities’ which can be applied to lovers:

Call her one, mee another flye./ We’ are Tapers too, and at our owne cost die. . . .

The figures of the third stanza are not the ‘threadbare Petrarchan conventionalities’. They have ‘sharpness and bite’. The last one, the comparison of the lovers to the phoenix, is fully serious. We see that the tone has shifted from ‘ironic banter into a defiant but controlled tenderness’.

The Fourth Stanza

The opening line of the stanza,      
                      
Wee can dye by it, if not live by love,

has ‘tenderness and deliberate resolution’. The lovers are ready to die. They are dedicated; they are not immature but ‘confident’. The metaphor of the saint is carried forward. The lovers’ renunciation of the world is similar to the confident resolution of the saint.

The basic metaphor of the saint, one notices, is being carried on; the lovers in their renunciation of the world, have something of the confident resolution of the saint.

Brooks reminds us that the word “legend’ in Donne’s time meant “the life of a saint”.

                And if unfit for tombs and hearse / Our legend be, it will be fit for verse

Their love story will not be the subject of a ‘ponderous and stately chronicle’. The ‘pretty rooms’ of sonnets is sufficient for them. The well-wrought urn [the sonnet] will provide ‘a finer memorial’ for the ashes than a ‘pompous and grotesque monument’, what the speaker calls “half-acre tombes” [the chronicle]. “Half-acre tombes” is a contemptuous phrase that shows the grossness and vulgarity of the world left behind by the lovers.


But the figure works further; the pretty sonnets will not merely hold their ashes as a decent earthly memorial. Their legend, their story, will gain them [the lovers] canonization; and approved as love’s saints, other lovers will invoke them.


The Final Stanza

The theme receives ‘a final complication’ here. By rejecting life, the lovers get ‘the most intense life’.

This paradox has been hinted at earlier in the phoenix metaphor. Here it receives a powerful dramatization. The lovers in becoming hermits find that they have not lost the world, but have gained the world in each other, now a more intense, more meaningful world. [He finds his world in her, she finds hers in him]

This world does not come passively to them. It is something they ‘actively achieve’.
‘They are like the saint, God’s athlete’ [Notes3]    


                     Who did the whole world's soul contract, and drove
                Into the glasses of your eyes


Brooks rightly points out that the image is that of ‘a violent squeezing as of a powerful hand’. The lovers “drive” into each other’s eyes “Countries, Townes,” and “Courtes,” ‘which they renounced in the first stanza of the poem’.  ‘The unworldly lovers thus become the most “worldly” of all’.

The figure of the phoenix-- The final paradox


The poem ends on a tone of ‘triumphant achievement’. Various ‘earlier elements’ were responsible for the development of this tone.  ‘One of the important elements which work toward our acceptance of the final paradox is the figure of the phoenix’.

The comparison of the lovers to the phoenix is connected to other comparisons of them to burning tapers and the eagle and the dove. The ‘phoenix comparison gathers up both’. The phoenix bird burns like the tapers. “Call us what you will,” says the lover and ‘rattles off in his desperation the first comparisons that occur to him’. The phoenix comparison seems ‘merely another outlandish one, the most outrageous of all’. But it is a fantastic one because it describes ‘the lovers best and justifies their renunciation’ and the poet develops it.


For the phoenix is not two but one, “we two being one, are it”; and it burns, not like the taper at its own cost, but to live again. Its death is life: “Wee dye and rise the same . . .”


The poet literally justifies the fantastic assertion. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries to “die” means to experience the consummation of the act of love. The lovers after the act are the same. Their love is not exhausted in mere lust. This is their title to canonization. Their love is like the phoenix.


The meaning of “die” is not juggling, says Brooks. Shakespeare and Dryden used the term to mean sexual consummation. The word is the ‘pivot’ on the ‘transition’ to the next stanza— ‘We can die by it, if not live by love’. The ‘sexual sub-meaning of “die” does not contradict’ the other meanings: The poet is saying


“Our death is really a more intense life”; “We can afford to trade life (the world) for death (love), for that death is the consummation of life”; “After all, one does not expect to live by love, one expects, and wants, to die by it.”


But in the total passage he is also saying:


“Because our love is not mundane, we can give up the world”; “Because our love is not merely lust, we can give up the other lusts the lust tor wealth and power”; “because our love can outlast its consummation, we are a minor miracle, we are love’s saints.’’


‘This passage with its ironical tenderness and its realism feeds and supports the brilliant paradox with which the poem closes’.

The Poem as a Well-wrought Urn


The poet has built within the song a “pretty room’’ which will satisfy the lovers. The poem becomes a ‘well-wrought urn’ which can hold the lover’s ashes. This urn is not less magnificent than the ‘half-acre tombs’ of princes. Thus the poem is an example of the principle it asserts. It is ‘both the assertion and the realization of the assertion’. 


How necessary are the paradoxes?


The theme of the poem is simple—“Love in a cottage is enough”. The poet might have stated it directly. Donne might have been ‘as forthright as a later lyricist’ who wrote: “We’ll build a sweet little nest, somewhere out in the West, ‘. /And let the rest of the world go by.” [Notes4]. Else he might have imitated that ‘more metaphysical lyric that maintains’: “You’re the cream in my coffee.” [Notes5]. Donne’s poem includes and transcends all these observations.


Brooks writes about the suitability of paradox in this context:


I submit that the only way by which the poet could say what “The Canonization" says is by paradox. More direct methods may be tempting, but all of them enfeeble and distort what is to be said.


Brooks believes that ‘many of the important things which the poet has to say have to be said by means of paradox’. The language of love and the language of religion are mostly paradoxical. “The Canonization” is a good example of the language of love becoming paradoxical. Similarly, many memorable phrases in religion are paradoxical: “He who would save his life, must lose it”; “The last shall be first,” etc.

Indeed, almost any insight important enough to warrant a great poem apparently has to be stated in such terms.


Donne’s poem without its paradoxes

Without paradox and ‘its twin concomitants [something that happens with something else and is connected with it] of irony and wonder’, Donne’s poem becomes ‘biological, sociological, and economic’. The lovers in the poem become divine because of the ‘supernaturalism’ ‘the poet confers upon them’. Brooks remembers that the same thing happens to Shakespeare’s lovers, for ‘Shakespeare uses the basic metaphor of “The Canonization” in his Romeo and Juliet’. ‘In their first conversation, the lovers play with the analogy between the lover and the pilgrim to the Holy Land’.

Juliet says: For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch
And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.

If we consider the lovers ‘scientifically’, they may be like Aldous Huxley’s animals, “quietly sweating, palm to palm.”[ Notes6]


Comments: ‘Brooks shows what would happen to the poet’s pronouncements if they were reduced from their function as literary symbols to the pure symbols of abstract science’-- William J. Handy [Kant and the Southern New Critics]
Handy points out the difference between the ‘palm to palm’ in Juliet’s speech and Huxley’s ‘palm to palm’. In Juliet, the expression is used as literary language [as a ‘poetic symbol’] while in Huxley the expression is literal (factual). The literary language contributes to ‘a whole formulation of human experience made possible by the literary meanings furnished by the poet’.

Brooks says:


For us today, Donne’s imagination seems obsessed with the problem of unity; the sense in which the lovers become one — the sense in which the soul is united with God.       

Very often ‘one type of union becomes a metaphor for the other’. Both can be considered as ‘instances of, and metaphors for, the union which the creative imagination itself effects’.

Comments: The metaphor of the two lovers becoming one is similar to the metaphor of the soul uniting with God—the ‘Jeevatma’ becoming one with the ‘Paramatma’.

This ‘fusion’ is not based on logic. It violates ‘science and common sense; it welds together the discordant and the contradictory’. Coleridge gives a ‘classic description of its nature and power’.

It “reveals itself in the balance or reconcilement of opposite or discordant qualities: of `sameness, with difference; of the general, with the concrete; the idea with the image; the individual, with the representative: the sense of novelty and freshness, with old and familiar objects; a more than usual state of emotion, with more than usual order. . .

This statement of Coleridge contains many paradoxes (all the underlined phrases are paradoxes). Brooks feels that Coleridge could not describe creative imagination in any other way.

“The Phoenix and the Turtle” (Notes 7)

Concluding this chapter, Brooks analyses Shakespeare’s ‘The Phoenix and the Turtle’ which he feels is ‘oddly parallel to the description’ given above by Coleridge. He quotes the following as an example:


Reason, in itself confounded,                                                                                        Saw division grow together,                                                                                     To themselves yet either neither,                                                                     Simple were so well compounded

Brooks admits that he knows very little about the theme of the poem.

Comments: Critics are unanimous in their view that the poem is the most obscure written by Shakespeare. In 1875, R.W. Emerson challenged writers and commentators to explicate the poem.

But he believes that the poem is ‘an instance of that magic power [the power of paradox] which Coleridge sought to describe’.

So they lov'd, as love in twain                                                                                                 Had the essence but in one;                                                                                                   Two distincts, division none:                                                                                                 Number there in love was slain.  
Hearts remote, yet not asunder;                                                                                          Distance and no space was seen                                                                                             'Twixt this Turtle and his queen:                                                                                                But in them it were a wonder.                                                                               ……………………………                                                                                                            That the selfe was not the same;                                                                                              Single Natures double name.                                                                                             Neither two nor one was     called.                                                                                                                                                      

Brooks concludes his analysis of the poem thus:

The nature is single, one, unified. But the name is double, and today with our multiplication of sciences, it is multiple. If the poet is to be true to his poetry, he must call it neither two nor one; the paradox is his only solution.

Though the name is double, the nature is single. The difficulty of seeing the double nature as single has intensified since Shakespeare’s day. [Eliot found ‘unification of sensibility’ in the Metaphysical poets and regretted that a ‘dissociation of sensibility’ has set in the late seventeenth century.] Brooks believes that the poets have become ‘timid’ when they faced the problem of “Single Natures double name,” and hence they had ‘funked’ [avoid (something) out of fear] it. ‘A history of poetry from Dryden’s time to our own might bear as its sub-title “The Half-Hearted Phoenix.”

Comments: Brooks makes ‘one further observation’ that takes this chapter to a different level. With a typical formalist method of analysis, he highlights the features of intertextuality in three poems belonging to three different periods of English Literature.

Continuing with his analysis of ‘The Phoenix and the Turtle’, Brooks points out that Reason is ‘in it selfe’ confused at the union of the Phoenix and the Turtle. But Reason admits ‘its own bankruptcy’.

Love has reason, reason none,                                                                                                   If what parts can so remain.

Reason goes on to utter the beautiful Threnody [a lyrical lament over a victim of the catastrophe in a tragedy] with which the poem concludes;

Beauty, truth, and rarity,                                                                                                  Grace in all simplicity,                                                                                                                Here enclos'd, in cinders lie.                                                                                    ……………………………….                                                                                       Truth may seem but cannot be;                                                                                     Beauty brag but 'tis not she;                                                                                                      Truth and beauty buried be.  
                                                                                                                                                       To this urn let those repair                                                                                                         That are either true or fair;                                                                                                         For these dead birds sigh a prayer.


To this urn let those repair – ‘repair’ is used in the sense of ‘going back’, ‘heading for’, ‘leave for’ etc.

Brooks says that we are ‘summoned’ to the urn:

The urn to which we are summoned, the urn which holds the ashes of the phoenix, is like the well-wrought urn of Donne’s “Canonization” which holds the phoenix-lovers’ ashes: it is the poem itself.

The lines remind one of another urn, Keats’s Grecian urn, which contained for the poet Truth and Beauty. Shakespeare’s urn contains “Beautie, Truth, and Raritie.” But ‘all such well-wrought urns contain the ashes of a Phoenix’.

The phoenix rises from its ashes; or ought to rise; but it will not arise for all our mere sifting and measuring the ashes, or testing them for their chemical content. We must be prepared to accept the paradox of the imagination itself; else “Beautie, Truth, and Raritie” remain enclosed in their cinders and we shall end with essential cinders, for all our pains.

Comments: The phoenix of poetry will not be reborn through measuring and chemical testing of the ashes. The paradox of imagination is indispensable for that. In poetry imagination makes things real, a paradoxical situation. But such a situation is essential for “Beautie, Truth, and Raritie”. Otherwise, these three qualities will remain as cinders. Thus we will get only cinders [ashes] for all our efforts.

In conclusion, let us go through one memorable piece of criticism by a Canadian scholar, Thomas Dilworth:

Keats, in Dilworth's reading obeys Shakespeare's injunction to the "true" or "fair" to "repair" to the urn where Truth and Beauty are interred. In interpreting the meaning of "Truth" for both poets, the symbolism of the turtle-dove is useful. He represents fidelity, "being true" in the sense of "being constant". As Shakespeare – and long tradition – suggest, Truth (as in constancy) and Beauty, are rarely combined. In his poem, they unite and die. The phoenix is not reborn. The birds lack offspring and burn to cinders in one blaze. But, if it is that Elizabethan urn that speaks in Attic guise in Keats's Ode, it proves that poetry, at least, can be reborn from itself. "The Phoenix and the Turtle," thanks to Dilworth's reading, helps unlock the cage of Keats's chiasmus: "Beauty is truth, truth beauty…" Perhaps the hidden turtle and phoenix of the Ode represent a further impossible union – that of the constant John Keats himself and his beloved Fanny Brawne? [Taken from Carol Rumens’s ‘Poem of the Week’, The Guardian


NOTES

1. Paradox

The term paradox is from the Greek word paradoxon, which means “contrary to expectations, existing belief, or perceived opinion.”

paradox is a seemingly absurd or self-contradictory statement in logic that, superficially, cannot be true but also cannot be false. It is a statement that appears to be self-contradictory or silly, but which may include a latent truth. It is also used to illustrate an opinion or statement contrary to accepted traditional ideas.

A paradox is often used to make a reader think over an idea in an innovative way. For example, let us look at a paradox made famous by Wordsworth— “The child is father of the man…”This statement has a seemingly incorrect supposition, but when we look deep into its meaning, we see the truth. The poet is saying that childhood experiences become the basis for all adult occurrences. The childhood of a person shapes his life, and consequently “fathers” or creates a grown-up adult. So, “The child is father of the man.”

The above reading may bring out the question, “Why is paradox used when a message can be conveyed in a straightforward and simple manner?” The answer lies in the nature and purpose of literature. One function of literature is to make the readers enjoy reading. Readers enjoy more when they extract the hidden meanings out of the writing rather than something presented to them in an uncomplicated manner. Thus, the chief purpose of a paradox is to give pleasure.

Some very famous paradoxes are given here:

‘Fair is Foul, Foul is Fair.  [Macbeth]

War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength.” ― [1984 George Orwell].

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way…[ A Tale of Two Cities  Charles Dickens ]

Also, see Paradoxes of Zeno & Paradox of Russell.

[Indebted to the Internet]

2.  Connotation and Denotation

Connotation is an idea or feeling a word invokes for a person in addition to its literal or primary meaning.  It is a commonly understood cultural or emotional association. A connotation is frequently described as either positive or negative, with regard to its pleasing or displeasing emotional connection.
Denotation is concerned with explicit or literal meaning. It is the primary meaning of a term.
The word home, for instance, has a denotation of “the place (such as a house or apartment) where a person lives,” but it may additionally have many connotations (such as “warmth,” “security,” or “childhood”) for some people. Typically, the word "home" has a positive and warm connotation.

[Indebted to the Internet]


3. God’s athlete

In an article published in < simplycatholic.com> Thomas J. Craughwell writes:

The first Christians saw a connection between the courage and endurance of the martyrs and the courage and endurance of athletes. In his second letter to St. Timothy, St. Paul, knowing that his martyrdom was not far off, compared himself to a boxer and a runner: “I have fought a good fight,” he said. “I have finished my course.” A few decades later, about the year 110, the martyr St. Ignatius of Antioch wrote to his fellow bishop St. Polycarp urging him to act like “an athlete of God [for whom] the prize is immortality and eternal life.”
St. Sebastian is the patron saint of archers and the Pontifical Swiss Guards. His feast day is Jan. 20.
4.
The song was written by J. Keirn Brennan and set to music by Ernest R. Ball in 1919.

With someone like you a pal good and true
I'd like to leave it all behind and go and find
A place that's known to God alone just a spot we could call our own
We'll find perfect peace where joys never cease
Somewhere beneath the starry skies
We'll build a sweet little nest somewhere out in the west
And let the rest of the world go by
With someone like you,
And let the rest of the world go by.

Source: LyricFind
Let the Rest of the World Go By lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc

5.         “You’re the cream in my coffee.”
"You're the Cream in My Coffee" is a popular song published in 1928. The music was written by Ray Henderson, with lyrics by Buddy G. DeSylva and Lew Brown and appears in their Broadway musical Hold Everything!
You're the cream in my coffee / You're the salt in my stew                                                          You'll always be my necessity /  I'd be lost without you.                                                                  You're the starch in my collar / You’re the lace in my shoe …                                               You'll always be my necessity / I’d be lost without you

6.  “Quietly sweating, palm to palm.”

The lines are from Aldous Huxley’s poem ‘Frascati's’:

But when the wearied Band                                                                                                                           Swoons to a waltz, I take her hand,                                                                                                            And there we sit, in blissful calm,                                                                                                         Quietly sweating palm to palm.

 

In this deeply ironic poem, the writer depicts himself as sitting with a girl in the balcony of an ornate restaurant. They are under its "bubble-breasted" dome, from which hangs a crystal chandelier that resembles a frozen waterfall. Below them, the patrons–"human bears"–are "champing with their gilded teeth." There is the further irony of an echo of Keats ("What songs? What gongs? What nameless rites?" which sardonically hints at "What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy" in the "Ode on a Grecian Urn") and of the interior of a cathedral. The dome of the restaurant suggests to the poet a nave below, where, instead of church music or the "unheard" melodies of Keats, a Negro jazz-band is producing "blasts of Bantu melody." Yet, in the final irony, this vulgar spot is the poet's "spiritual home," just as a cathedral might be such for a devout person. Here is the disillusionment of the post-World War I years, for from all the noise, confusion, and blaring rag-time, the tragi-comic climax is only a sensual experience. [Indebted to the Internet]

7. “The Phoenix and the Turtle”—Shakespeare.

This poem was published in 1601 in an anthology— "Love's Martyr: Or, Rosalins Complaint"— by Robert Chester. It contained various poetic exercises about the phoenix and the turtle by some writers of the day. The phoenix is the legendary bird that is consumed in flame and is reborn from its ashes. The turtle is the turtledove, emblem of pure constancy in love. The poem portrays the mystical oneness of the two birds. The poem has a total of 18 stanzas. The first 13 has 4 lines each and the next 5 has 3 lines each.

APPENDIX

Brooks and New Criticism

Brooks was the central figure of New Criticism, a movement that emphasized structural and textual analysis—close reading—over historical or biographical analysis. Brooks advocates “the closest examination of what the poem says as a poem".

 In Understanding Poetry, Brooks and Warren assert that poetry should be taught as poetry, and the critic should resist reducing a poem to a simple paraphrase, explicating it through biographical or historical contexts, and interpreting it didactically. Paraphrase and biographical and historical background information are useful as a means of clarifying interpretation, but it should be used as a means to an end.

Brooks took the notion of paraphrase and developed it further in his classic The Well Wrought Urn. The book is a polemic against the tendency for critics to reduce a poem to a single narrative or didactic message. He describes summative, reductionist reading of poetry with a phrase still popular today: "The Heresy of Paraphrase". He argued that poetry serves no didactic purpose because producing some kind of statement would be counter to a poem's purpose. Brooks argues that "through irony, paradox, ambiguity and other rhetorical and poetic devices of his or her art, the poet works constantly to resist any reduction of the poem to a paraphrasable core, favouring the presentation of conflicting facets of theme and patterns of resolved stresses".


Reaction to New Criticism

Because New Criticism isolated the text and excluded historical and biographical contexts, critics argued as early as 1942 that Brooks' approach to criticism was flawed. His reputation suffered in the 1970s and 1980s when criticism of New Criticism increased. Ronald Crane was particularly hostile to the views of Brooks and the other New Critics. In "The Critical Monism of Cleanth Brooks," Crane writes that under Brooks’ view of a poem's unity being achieved through the irony and paradox of the opposing forces it contains, the world's most perfect example of such an ironic poem would be Albert Einstein's equation E=mc2, which equates matter and energy at a constant rate.

In his later years, Brooks criticized the poststructuralists for inviting subjectivity and relativism into their analysis, asserting "each critic played with the text's language unmindful of aesthetic relevance and formal design". This approach to criticism, Brooks argued, "denied the authority of the work".

Influence

Understanding Poetry was an unparalleled success and remains a classic example of the intellectual and imaginative skills essential for the understanding of poetry. Further, critics praise Brooks and Warren for teaching students how to read and interpret poetry.

In an obituary for Brooks, John W. Stevenson of Converse College notes Brooks "redirect[ed] and revolutionize[d] the teaching of literature in American colleges and universities". Further, Stevenson admits Brooks was "the person who brought excitement and passion to the study of literature" and "whose work...became the model for a whole profession"

As a testament to Brooks' influence, fellow critic and former teacher John Crowe Ransom calls Brooks "the most forceful and influential critic of poetry that we have". Elsewhere, Ransom has even gone so far as to describe Brooks as a "spell binder".

Dr. S. Sreekumar 

Disclaimer
The critical analysis given above is by no means original. The aim of the post is to make the students familiar with the critical principles of Brooks. The post may be used by the students to further their studies of Brooks.















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