The Victorian Period

1. The Victorian Period

2. The Victorian Period • Poetry • Novel

3. The Victorian Period ” 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” (Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities 1859)

4. The Victorian Period • Dark and turbulent times  dark poems • ”The Condition of England” question • Issues of gender, class, empire, faith...

5. My last duchess

6. Robert Browning, My Last Duchess (1842)

7. Robert Browning, My Last Duchess (1842) • Form and style? • Themes?

8. My Last Duchess, ROBERT BROWNING That's my last Duchesspainted on the wall, Looking as ifshewerealive. I call Thatpiece a wonder, now: FràPandolf's hands Workedbusily a day, and thereshestands. Will 't pleaseyousit and look at her? I said 'FràPandolf' by design, for never read Strangers like youthatpicturedcountenance, The depth and passion ofitsearnestglance, Buttomyselftheyturned (sincenone puts by The curtain I havedrawn for you, but I) And seemed as theywould ask me, iftheydurst, Howsuch a glancecamethere; so, not the first Areyoutoturn and ask thus. Sir, 't was not Herhusband'spresenceonly, calledthat spot Ofjoyinto the Duchess' cheek: perhaps FràPandolfchancedtosay, 'Hermantlelaps Over my lady'swristtoomuch,' or 'Paint Must never hopetoreproduce the faint Half-flush thatdiesalongherthroat:' such stuff Wascourtesy, shethought, and cause enough For callingupthat spot ofjoy. Shehad A heart -- howshall I say? -- toosoonmade glad, Tooeasilyimpressed; shelikedwhate'er Shelooked on, and her looks wenteverywhere. Sir, 't was all one! My favour at herbreast, The droppingof the daylight in the West, The boughofcherriessomeofficiousfool Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule Sherodewith round the terrace -- all and each Woulddraw from heralike the approvingspeech, Or blush, at least. Shethanked men, -- good! butthanked Somehow -- I know not how -- as ifsheranked My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name Withanybody's gift. Who'dstooptoblame This sort oftrifling? Evenhadyouskill In speech -- (which I have not) -- to make yourwill Quitecleartosuch an one, and say, 'Just this Or that in youdisgustsme; hereyou miss, Or thereexceed the mark' -- and ifshelet Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set Herwitstoyours, forsooth, and madeexcuse, -- E'enthenwould be somestooping; and I choose Never tostoop. Oh, sir, shesmiled, no doubt, Whene'er I passedher; butwhopassedwithout Much the same smile? Thisgrew; I gavecommands; Then all smilesstoppedtogether. Thereshestands As ifalive. Will 't pleaseyourise? We'llmeet The companybelowthen. I repeat, The Count yourmaster'sknownmunificence Is ample warrantthat no just pretence Ofmine for dowrywill be disallowed; Thoughhis fair daughter'sself, as I avowed At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go Together down, sir. NoticeNeptune, though, Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity, Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!

9. Form and Genre • DramaticLyric • Iambicpentamenter, rhymingcouplets • Monologue • Gothic

10. My Last Duchess, ROBERT BROWNING That's my last Duchesspainted on the wall, Lookingas ifshewerealive. I call Thatpiece a wonder, now: FràPandolf's hands Workedbusily a day, and thereshestands. Will 't pleaseyousit and look at her? I said 'FràPandolf' by design, for never read Strangers like youthatpicturedcountenance, The depth and passion ofitsearnestglance, Buttomyselftheyturned (sincenone puts by The curtain I havedrawn for you, but I) And seemed as theywould ask me, iftheydurst, Howsuch a glancecamethere; so, not the first Areyoutoturn and ask thus. Sir, 't was not Herhusband'spresenceonly, calledthat spot Ofjoyinto the Duchess' cheek: perhaps FràPandolfchancedtosay, 'Hermantlelaps Over my lady'swristtoomuch,' or 'Paint Must never hopetoreproduce the faint Half-flush thatdiesalongherthroat:' such stuff Wascourtesy, shethought, and cause enough For callingupthat spot ofjoy. Shehad A heart -- howshall I say? -- toosoonmade glad, Tooeasilyimpressed; shelikedwhate'er Shelooked on, and her looks wenteverywhere. Sir, 't was all one! My favour at herbreast, The droppingof the daylight in the West, The boughofcherriessomeofficiousfool Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule Sherodewith round the terrace -- all and each Woulddraw from heralike the approvingspeech, Or blush, at least. Shethanked men, -- good!butthanked Somehow -- I know not how -- as ifsheranked My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name Withanybody's gift. Who'dstooptoblame This sort oftrifling? Evenhadyouskill In speech -- (which I have not) -- to make yourwill Quitecleartosuch an one, and say, 'Just this Or that in youdisgustsme; hereyou miss, Or thereexceed the mark' -- and ifshelet Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set Herwitstoyours, forsooth, and madeexcuse, -- E'enthenwould be somestooping; and I choose Never tostoop. Oh, sir, shesmiled, no doubt, Whene'er I passedher; butwhopassedwithout Much the same smile? Thisgrew; I gavecommands; Then all smilesstoppedtogether. Thereshestands As ifalive. Will 't pleaseyourise? We'llmeet The companybelowthen. I repeat, The Count yourmaster'sknownmunificence Is ample warrantthat no just pretence Ofmine for dowrywill be disallowed; Thoughhis fair daughter'sself, as I avowed At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go Together down, sir. NoticeNeptune, though, Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity, Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!

11. Themes • Power • Gender • Art/reality • Class • Psychological realism (neurosis?)

12. The cry of the children

13. Elizabeth Barrett Browning • ”ethicalpoetry is the highestof all poetry forms… poetryshould be abletoecompass argument and persuasion” • Poet as prophet (”the onlytruth-tellersnowleftto God”, Aurora Leigh) • Politicalpoetry: toeffectchange not least via social reforms (abolitionism, childprotection…) • Sentimental genre (cf. UncleTom’sCabin) • Very popular and appreciated in her lifetime (almost became Poet Laureate in 1850) • Modern criticscriticalof explicit message and affectivepurpose

14. The Cry of the children

15. Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Cry of the Children (1844) • Directreactionto social conditions (childlabourreport) • Powerfulappealto emotions (sentimentalism) butalsorealistic elements • Constructedaround different voicesaddressing ”ye”, ”O, my brothers”: the poet and the childrenthemselves • Series ofcontrasts

16. Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Cry of the Children (1844) • Humankind vs animal and vegetalworld • Myth and reality (the Nation as it seesitself and as it is) • Old/young • Mother/fatherland and brothers • Life/death • City/countryside • Human/mechanicalworld • God/capitalism and industrialisation

17. "Pheupheu, ti prosderkesthe m ommasin, tekna;" [[Alas, alas, why do yougaze at mewithyoureyes, my children.]]—Medea.

18. Stanza 1: Do yehear the childrenweeping, O my brothers,       Ere the sorrowcomeswithyears ? Theyareleaningtheiryoungheadsagainsttheirmothers, —       And thatcannot stop theirtears. The younglambsarebleating in the meadows ;    The youngbirdsarechirping in the nest ; The youngfawnsareplayingwith the shadows ;    The youngflowersareblowingtoward the west— But the young, youngchildren, O my brothers, Theyareweepingbitterly ! Theyareweeping in the playtimeof the others,       In the country of the free.

19. Stanza 2: Do youquestion the youngchildren in the sorrow, Whytheirtearsarefalling so ? The old man mayweep for histo-morrow Which is lost in Long Ago — The old tree is leafless in the forest —    The old year is ending in the frost — The old wound, ifstricken, is the sorest —    The old hope is hardestto be lost : But the young, youngchildren, O my brothers,       Do you ask themwhytheystand Weepingsorebefore the bosomsoftheirmothers,       In our happy Fatherland ?

20. Stanza 3: They look upwiththeirpale and sunken faces,       And their looks aresadtosee, For the man'sgriefabhorrent, draws and presses       Down the cheeksofinfancy — "Your old earth," theysay, "is verydreary;"    "Ouryoungfeet," theysay, "areveryweak !" Fewpaceshavewe taken, yetareweary— Our grave-rest is very far toseek ! Ask the old whytheyweep, and not the children,       For the outsideearth is cold — And weyoungonesstandwithout, in ourbewildering,       And the graves are for the old !"

21. Stanza 5: Alas, the wretchedchildren ! theyareseeking       Death in life, as best tohave ! Theyarebindinguptheirheartsaway from breaking, With a cerement from the grave. Go out, children, from the mine and from the city — Singout, children, as the littlethrushes do — Pluckyouhandfulsof the meadow-cowslipspretty Laughaloud, tofeelyour fingers letthemthrough ! Buttheyanswer, " Areyourcowslipsof the meadows       Like ourweedsanear the mine ? Leaveusquiet in the dark of the coal-shadows,       From yourpleasures fair and fine!

22. Stanza 8: Ay ! be silent ! Letthemheareachotherbreathing       For a moment, mouthtomouth — Letthem touch eachother's hands, in a freshwreathing Oftheir tender human youth ! Letthemfeelthatthiscold metallic motion    Is not all the life God fashions or reveals — Letthemprovetheirinward souls against the notion Thatthey live in you, or under you, O wheels ! — Still, all day, the ironwheels go onward,       As ifFate in eachwere stark ; And the children's souls, which God is callingsunward,       Spin on blindly in the dark.

23. Stanza 11: "But, no !" say the children, weeping faster,       " He is speechless as a stone ; And theytellus, ofHis image is the master Whocommandsustowork on. Go to ! " say the children,—"up in Heaven,    Dark, wheel-like, turning cloudsare all wefind ! Do not mockus ; grief has madeusunbelieving — We look up for God, buttearshavemadeus blind." Do yehear the childrenweeping and disproving,       O my brothers, whatyepreach ? For God'spossible is taught by Hisworld'sloving —       And the childrendoubtofeach.

24. Stanza 13: They look up, withtheirpale and sunken faces,       And their look is dreadtosee, For theythinkyouseetheir angels in theirplaces, Witheyesmeant for Deity ;— "How long," theysay, "how long, O cruel nation,    Will youstand, tomove the world, on a child'sheart, — Stifle down with a mailedheelitspalpitation,    And treadonwardtoyourthrone amid the mart ? Ourbloodsplashesupward, O ourtyrants,       And yourpurpleshewsyourpath ; But the child'ssobcursethdeeper in the silence Than the strong man in hiswrath!”

25. Familyconnectionsestablishedthroughmothers, brothers, father: emotional charge

26. Dover beach

27. Matthew Arnold, Dover Beach (1867)

28. Dover Beach, Matthew Arnold The sea is calmtonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; on the Frenchcoast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffsof England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquilbay. Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! Only, from the long lineof spray Where the seameets the moon-blanched land, Listen! youhear the grating roar Ofpebbleswhich the wavesdraw back, and fling, At theirreturn, up the high strand, Begin, and cease, and thenagainbegin, Withtremulouscadenceslow, and bring The eternal note ofsadness in. Sophocles long ago Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow Of human misery; we Findalso in the sound a thought, Hearing it by thisdistantnorthernsea. The Sea of Faith Wasonce, too, at the full, and round earth’sshore Lay like the foldsof a brightgirdlefurled. Butnow I onlyhear Itsmelancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vastedgesdrear And nakedshinglesof the world. Ah, love, letus be true To oneanother! for the world, whichseems To lie beforeus like a land ofdreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hathreallyneitherjoy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And wearehere as on a darklingplain Sweptwithconfused alarms ofstruggle and flight, Where ignorant armiesclash by night.

29. Dover Beach, Matthew Arnold The sea is calmtonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; on the Frenchcoast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffsof England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquilbay. Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! Only, from the long lineof spray Where the seameets the moon-blanched land, Listen! youhear the grating roar Ofpebbleswhich the wavesdraw back, and fling, At theirreturn, up the high strand, Begin, and cease, and thenagainbegin, Withtremulouscadenceslow, and bring The eternal note ofsadness in. Sophocles long ago Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow Of human misery; we Findalso in the sound a thought, Hearing it by thisdistantnorthernsea. The Sea of Faith Wasonce, too, at the full, and round earth’sshore Lay like the foldsof a brightgirdlefurled. Butnow I onlyhear Itsmelancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vastedgesdrear And nakedshinglesof the world. Ah, love, letus be true To oneanother! for the world, whichseems To lie beforeus like a land ofdreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hathreallyneitherjoy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And wearehere as on a darklingplain Sweptwithconfused alarms ofstruggle and flight, Where ignorant armiesclash by night.

30. Dover Beach, Matthew Arnold The sea is calmtonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; on the Frenchcoast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffsof England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquilbay. Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! Only, from the long lineof spray Where the seameets the moon-blanched land, Listen! youhear the grating roar Ofpebbleswhich the wavesdraw back, and fling, At theirreturn, up the high strand, Begin, and cease, and thenagainbegin, Withtremulouscadenceslow, and bring The eternal note ofsadness in. Sophocles long ago Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow Of human misery; we Findalso in the sound a thought, Hearing it by thisdistantnorthernsea. The Sea of Faith Wasonce, too, at the full, and round earth’sshore Lay like the foldsof a brightgirdlefurled. Butnow I onlyhear Itsmelancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vastedgesdrear And nakedshinglesof the world. Ah, love, letus be true To oneanother! for the world, whichseems To lie beforeus like a land ofdreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hathreallyneitherjoy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And wearehere as on a darklingplain Sweptwithconfused alarms ofstruggle and flight, Where ignorant armiesclash by night.

31. Dover Beach, Matthew Arnold The sea is calmtonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; on the Frenchcoast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffsof England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquilbay. Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! Only, from the long lineof spray Where the seameets the moon-blanched land, Listen! youhear the gratingroar Ofpebbleswhich the wavesdraw back, and fling, At theirreturn, up the high strand, Begin, and cease, and thenagainbegin, Withtremulouscadenceslow, and bring The eternal note ofsadness in. Sophocles long ago Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow Of human misery; we Findalso in the sound a thought, Hearing it by thisdistantnorthernsea. The Sea of Faith Wasonce, too, at the full, and round earth’sshore Lay like the foldsof a brightgirdlefurled. Butnow I onlyhear Itsmelancholy, long, withdrawingroar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vastedgesdrear And nakedshinglesof the world. Ah, love, letus be true To oneanother! for the world, whichseems To lie beforeus like a land ofdreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hathreallyneitherjoy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And wearehere as on a darklingplain Sweptwithconfused alarms ofstruggle and flight, Where ignorant armiesclash by night.

32. Far from Milton and Pope’sattempts at justifying the waysof God to men • Chaos and Night • Universal communitytoindividual love • Rythmof poem emphasizestheme

33. The victorianNovel: Jane eyre

34. Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre (1847)

35. Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre (1847) • Currer Bell • Victoriannovel • gender, • class, • Empire • Between Romanticism and Realism

36. Jane Eyre and Class "Master! How is he my master? Am I a servant?"

37. Jane Eyre and Class • The governess • Jane as in-betweenclasses (cf. Reed household 24-25) • Money and status (// Rochester) • Liminalityallows the noveltoexplorearistocracy and underprivileged

38. "Yououghtto be aware, Miss, thatyouare under obligations to Mrs. Reed: shekeepsyou: ifsheweretoturnyou off, youwouldhaveto go to the poorhouse." I hadnothingtosaytothesewords: theywere not new tome: my veryfirstrecollectionsofexistenceincluded hints of the same kind. Thisreproachof my dependencehadbecome a vaguesing-song in my ear: verypainful and crushing, butonlyhalfintelligible. Miss Abbot joined in — "And youought not tothinkyourself on an equalitywith the Misses Reed and Master Reed, becauseMissiskindlyallowsyouto be broughtupwiththem. Theywillhave a great deal ofmoney, and youwillhavenone: it is yourplaceto be humble, and to try to make yourselfagreeabletothem.” (25)

39. “Do youthink I am an automaton? — a machinewithout feelings? and canbeartohave my morselofbreadsnatched from my lips, and my dropoflivingwaterdashed from my cup? Do youthink, because I ampoor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? Youthinkwrong! — I have as much soul as you — and full as muchheart! And if God hadgiftedmewithsomebeauty and muchwealth, I shouldhavemade it as hard for youtoleaveme, as it is now for metoleaveyou. I am not talkingtoyounowthrough the medium ofcustom, conventionalities, nor evenof mortal flesh: it is my spirit thataddressesyour spirit; just as ifbothhadpassedthrough the grave, and westood at God'sfeet, equal — as weare!” (252)

40. Jane Eyre as gender critique

41. Jane Eyre as gender critique • Image ofinequality (”master”, ”Womenfeel…”) • Marriage as an institution (Bertha burning Rochester’s bed, tearing Jane’s veil) • Passion and desire for women

42. It is in vaintosay human beingsoughtto be satisfiedwithtranquillity: they must have action; and theywill make it iftheycannotfind it. Millions arecondemnedto a stillerdoomthanmine, and millions are in silent revolt againsttheirlot. Nobodyknowshowmanyrebellionsbesidespoliticalrebellions ferment in the massesoflifewhichpeopleearth. Womenaresupposedto be verycalmgenerally: butwomenfeel just as men feel; theyneedexercise for theirfaculties, and a field for theirefforts, as much as theirbrothers do; theysuffer from too rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men wouldsuffer; and it is narrow-minded in theirmoreprivilegedfellow-creaturestosaythattheyoughttoconfinethemselvestomaking puddings and knittingstockings, toplaying on the piano and embroidering bags. It is thoughtlesstocondemnthem, or laugh at them, iftheyseekto do more or learnmorethancustom has pronouncednecessary for their sex. (116-117)

43. Jane Eyre and Imperialism

44. Jane Eyre and Imperialism • "The mad woman in the attic" • Rochester • St. John Rivers • Jane

45. "One night I had been awakened by her yells . . . it was a fiery West Indian night. . . . "'This life,' said I at last, 'is hell! -- this is the air -- those are the sounds of the bottomless pit! I have a right to deliver myself from it if I can. . . . Let me break away, and go home to God!'. . . "A wind fresh from Europe blew over the ocean and rushed through the open casement: the storm broke, streamed, thundered, blazed, and the air grew pure. . . . It was true Wisdom that consoled me in that hour, and showed me the right path. . . . "The sweet wind from Europe was still whispering in the refreshed leaves, and the Atlantic was thundering in glorious liberty. . . . "'Go,' said Hope, 'and live again in Europe. . . . You have done all that God and Humanity require of you. (303-4)

46. “My vocation? My great work? . . . My hopes of being numbered in the band who have merged all ambitions in the glorious one of bettering their race -- of carrying knowledge into the realms of ignorance -- of substituting peace for war -- freedom for bondage -- religion for superstition -- the hope of heaven for the fear of hell?"

47. In the deep shade, at the further end of the room, a figure ran backwards and forwards. What it was, whether beast or human being, one could not . . . tell: it grovelled, seemingly, on all fours; it snatched and growled like some strange wild animal: but it was covered with clothing, and a quantity of dark, grizzled hair, wild as a mane, hid its head and face. [JE, p. 295]

48. Jane/Bertha • Does the gender text obscure the imperialist subtext? • Is Bertha Jane's double or her Other? "In this fictive England, she must play out her role, act out the transformation of her "self" into that fictive Other, set fire to the house and kill herself, so that Jane Eyre can become the feminist individualist heroine of British fiction." (Spivak) Bertha's violent rebellion against patriarchy (coming to voice: “shouting out till they could hear her a mile off” 417) • Wide Sargasso Sea, Jean Rhys

49. ”Reader I married him”

50. "Reader I married him" • Transcending power of love? • Capitulation to patriarchal forces? “In Jane Eyre … love transcends barriers of class, race, and religion” (Pinion) “The narrative [goes] from revolted marginality to quiescent socialisation, reblending the contradictions which it initially exposed” (Politi)