European Prose
Fiction
Sir Philip
Sidney's Arcadia was for almost a century after its publication the only
widely read British prose narrative. Once it could no longer be enjoyed, the
modern novel began to emerge. Because it owes so much to European models, it
will be important to outline developments in France, Spain, and Italy, before
coming to Sidney. Of course, prose narratives had been written in France since
the 13th century, in the vast prose romances of Lancelot, and of Tristan.
Otherwise, in England prose had mostly been the medium for religious and
didactic writing that did not pretend to be entertaining. Dante's use of prose
narrative to frame the lyric verse in the Vita Nuova was inspired by
classical models, by Boethius especially.
One great
model for Renaissance prose fiction was Boccaccio's Decameron
(c1350). The skill with which these one hundred tales of human endurance are
told was never equalled, and they are still widely read simply for their
entertainment value. The tales themselves are often drawn from older sources,
the fabliaux of the French Middle Ages and other narratives. The
framework is a story-telling contest between ten Florentine young men and girls
escaping from the plague in beautiful rural villas. In many of the tales,
Fortune is overcome by human will and wit, often in defiance of morality. There
is a fascinating interplay between the fictional and the real that was to
influence the development of modern fiction throughout
Europe.
The
Decameron inspired many lesser writers in France as well as Italy. The
most notable example in France is Marguerite de Navarre (1492 - 1549),
the wife of the King of Navarre; at the time of her death she had completed 72
tales in what has come to be known as her Heptameron although she
had intended to compose a Decameron of 100 tales. Almost all the tales in
her work claim to be based on true stories, usually about relationships between
men and women. A humanist, protestant approach to marriage underlies her work,
which idealizes a romantic view of love, and contrasts it with tales of violence
and infidelity.
In Italy, the
short story came to be known as a novella, which
stresses the
novelty of the tale, just as today "news" is seen as entertainment. For obvious
reasons, the short story is usually published in collections, whence the
popularity of a story-telling framework giving a kind of unity to stories that
may be classical, medieval, or contemporary in origin and setting, dealing with
love in comic or tragic terms, with chivalry, or offering satires of the church
or of human follies.
The most
famous writer of novelle was Matteo Bandello (1485 - 1561), an
Italian who wrote most of his works while living in France after 1541. In his
214 novelle Bandello gave vivid descriptions of life in his times, while
adapting stories from many sources, including Marguerite de Navarre. His most
popular tales were those with tragic endings, the most famous being his
adaptation of Luigi da Porto's tale of Romeo and Juliet; this was translated
into French before being turned into an English narrative poem by Arthur Brooke
in 1562 that served as the main source for Shakespeare's
play.
In 1565,
Giambattista Giraldi published his collection, Gli Ecatommiti;
these are designed to offer clear moral and religious edification to his
readers; the main centre of interest is the contrast between married love and
its illicit alternatives. One of the stories told on the third day of the
framing narrative is the main source of Shakespeare's
Othello.
Other kinds
of prose writing also flourished, though; in Italy, Jacopo Sannazaro
(1455 - 1530) published his Arcadia in 1504. Here prose narrative
alternates with skillful poems in a work inspired by the models of Dante,
Boethius, and Petronius. Virgil had given the name of Arcadia (a wild region of
Greece) to an idealized fictional world in his pastoral Eclogues. In the
Arcadia there are 12 poems set in a prose narrative describing the simple
life of the shepherds among whom the unhappy Sincero seeks refuge. It was the
artificiality of this imaginary landscape, the delicacy of the descriptions,
that attracted so many imitators. The pastoral world is contrasted with the
harshness of life in the city, but without any element of satire; the landscape
remains idyllic, while this harmonious nature, by the "pathetic fallacy," serves
to remind the travelling Sincero of his beloved-but-unloving
Phyllis.
Sannazaro was
the direct inspiration for Garcilaso de la Vega (1501-1536) who
introduced the poetry of idealized natural beauty to Spain in his
Eclogues. Garcilaso was again, like Sannazaro, a courtier-poet fascinated
by the themes explored in Italian poetry. In 1559, Jorge de Montemayor
(1520 - 1561) published his incomplete pastoral novel in Spanish Los siete
libros de la Diana (the seven books of Diana), one of the most influential
of early prose fictions. It was soon translated into French, and later into
English. Again, there is a mixture of elegant prose with skillful verse. The
heroes of the story are shepherds, two of whom love the shepherdess Diana; there
are many confusions of identity involving disguises, before magic potions
finally make everyone happy with the right partner. Arcadia in this work is
located in Spain, and the analysis of the young women's emotions is done with
great delicacy in prose whose musicality may be partly explained by the author's
position as a professional chapel singer.
Other Spanish
writers followed Montemayor, especially Gaspar Gil Polo's Diana
enamorada (1564) and Cervantes's La Galatea (1585); none of
these works, oddly enough, was ever finished. Cervantes (1547 - 1616) is most
famous for Don Quixote, the first part of which was published in 1605,
the second in 1615; it was to be a major source for the development of the
English novel later in the 17th and in the 18th century. It remains extremely
popular today, alone among all these works.
Another
Spanish prose form important in this same context is the picaresque novel
which began with the anonymous Lazarillo de Tormes of 1554, to be
followed by Mateo Aleman's Guzman de Alfarache (1599/1604) which was
known as El Picaro, and Quevedo's Vida del Buscon (1626). These
are three of the greatest prose works in Spanish literature. In the picaresque
novel, a fictional person relates his or her birth to poor and disreputable
parents, the hardships of childhood and the subterfuges by which survival was
ensured. The character's adult life continues to be full of risks and
adventures, and these works are often disconcerting by their ironic portrayal of
moral degradation as a successful life.
Meanwhile, it
is essential to recall that the most popular work of prose fiction written in
France in this period does not fit any of these categories. Francois
Rabelais (1492 - 1553) was one of France's most remarkable Renaissance
figures, and one of the greatest comic writers of all time. He began to write
when he was forty, respected as a medical doctor and classical scholar. His work
consists of five Books, all centered on the same characters, the giant
Pantagruel, and his father Gargantua.
The earliest
portion, Pantagruel (1532), is mostly dominated by stories of the cruel
and distasteful antics of the prankster Panurge. In Gargantua (1534), the
main story involves a war fought by the giants in the countryside around
Rabelais's home in the Loire valley; towards the end, the lusty Brother Jean
founds the Abbey of Thélème, with its motto "Do as you
will."
The Third
Book (1546) is almost all in the form of learned discussions about many
topics, especially marriage, and the way to acquire knowledge. It is very
difficult reading because of its encyclopedic material and unequalled linguistic
mix of Latinate, local French dialect, and newly-invented vocabulary, but it is
the richest part of Rabelais's whole work. In the Fourth Book (1552), the
giants set out on a journey where we find an unparalleled combination of
mythology, fantasy, allegory, and philosophy, all in the most tremendous
language. The Fifth Book was published in 1564, after Rabelais's death,
and contains a huge confusion of texts not finally brought into shape by the
author.
The
humanistic and liberal protestant mind of Rabelais has always deeply impressed
many readers; in the 18th century he helped the early English novelists venture
into the realms of fantasy, and he was a favourite of James Joyce. Rabelais is
not easy to read, but his work remains among the finest comic writing ever done.
The most
important influences of all these writings in the 16th century on English
writing were either direct, as in the case of Sidney's use of Diana, or
by way of translations. William Painter (1525 - 1595) published
translations of Italian and French novelle and of classical tales in his
Palace of Pleasure (1566) which was the source used by several
dramatists, including Shakespeare (All's Well That Ends Well). Other
classical love tales were translated in A petite Pallace of Pettie his
pleasure (1576) by George Pettie. On the whole, though, English prose
fiction was only later to find inspiration from the works that were written in
16th century Europe.
Further
Reading
The
Continental Renaissance: 1500 - 1600, edited by A. J.
Krailsheimer. The Pelican Guides to European Literature.
1971.
Sir Philip Sidney
Two years
younger than Spenser, Philip Sidney (1554 - 1586) was a far more romantic
figure, in life and death. His father Sir Henry Sidney was three times governor
of Ireland, his father's sister Frances was the wife of the Earl of Sussex who
was in charge of the royal household. The Sidney family, though, was only
gentry, not as highly ranked as that of Philip's mother, Mary Dudley. Her
brother Guilford Dudley had married the unfortunate 9-day queen Lady Jane Grey.
Their father John Dudley, duke of Northumberland, was executed at the beginning
of Mary Tudor's reign for having led resistance to her accession. For the
Dudleys, and for many protestants, this was martyrdom. Philip Sidney was mainly
honored in his youth because he was the only surviving descendant of John
Dudley. Sidney's mother's brother Robert Dudley became the earl of
Leicester in 1564, and he was the leader of the more militant protestant
faction in national politics until his death in 1588.
When only
fifteen, Philip Sidney was engaged to the daughter of Sir William Cecil, the
most powerful man at court; in the end, Cecil decided that the Sidneys were too
poor for her. She married the earl of Oxford instead, and this may help explain
the violent quarrel that arose between him and Philip Sidney in 1579-80. Three
years before he died, Philip Sidney married Frances Walsingham, the daughter of
the powerful Sir Francis Walsingham who was allied to Leicester in promoting the
protestant cause. After Sidney's death, his widow married Robert Devereux, the
earl of Essex whose rebellion in 1601 led to his execution for
treason.
Sidney's
sister had their mother's name, Mary, and like the mother, she was an
intelligent and lively person; the Dudley family was educated in the highest
humanist tradition, the women like the men, so that his sister was Philip
Sidney's main audience and partner in literary dialogue. In 1577, aged only
fifteen, she married Henry Herbert, the earl of Pembroke, who was almost 40
years old, and went to live in his fine house at Wilton as Mary Herbert,
countess of Pembroke. The medieval Sidney family home at Penshurst and Mary's
new home at Wilton were both to become
significant
literary references. Mary Herbert (1561 - 1621) became a great literary
patroness, encouraging many younger writers as well as publishing her brother's
works and completing the English version of the Psalms which he had
begun.
Philip Sidney
was educated at Shrewsbury School, then went to Oxford for some three years from
1568. In May 1572, he set off for France and was welcomed at the French court in
Paris. During the summer, all over France, tensions grew between the Catholics
and Huguenots (protestants), culminating in the terrible Massacre of St
Bartholomew's Day, August 24, 1572, when many of Sidney's protestant
acquaintances were among the thousands murdered. Sidney probably took refuge in
the English Embassy under the protection of Sir Francis Walsingham (his future
father-in-law) who was the English ambassador at that
time.
Leaving Paris
for ever, he went to Germany, on to Vienna, down to Venice, back to Vienna, and
returned to England in June 1575. From these centres, Sidney made journeys as
far south as Florence, and as far east as Cracow in Poland; he returned via
Prague, Dresden, Frankfurt and Cologne.
During his
journey, he met a number of remarkable protestant humanists from France, with
whom he maintained relations later and whose courage in the face of violent
persecution must have impressed him deeply. He probably also obtained a copy of
Sannazaro's Arcadia while he was in Venice, illustrated with woodcuts,
and this book seems to have suggested to Spenser the format of the
Shepheardes Calendar, as well as giving the title and structure of
Sidney's own Arcadia.
One month
after his return, in July 1575, Philip was present when his uncle Leicester
entertained the Queen at Kenilworth Castle; part of the shows presented during
those days were scripted by George Gascoigne in a rather rustic style. Then he
had to wait until 1577 before the Queen sent him on an official mission to
Europe to visit the new Emperor and offer condolences on the death of his
father, also to meet Protestant princes to get information on the possibility of
a league against the Catholic powers in the south. During this journey, in
Prague, Sidney seems to have met the English Jesuit priest Edmund Campion to
discuss religious questions. On the way back to England, he visited William of
Orange, who was the leader of the revolt against Spain in the Netherlands. The
Protestant leader was very impressed by Sidney and even hoped to see
him marry his
daughter, something that Elizabeth would never have allowed. For Sidney, this
was one of the happiest times in his whole life.
In 1577
Gascoigne suddenly died, and in the years that followed Sidney quite often
composed verses and pageants for his family, as well as for Leicester, and began
to perform at court tournaments. In November 1577 the Queen's Accession Day (the
anniversary of her becoming Queen) was celebrated by a tournament at which
Sidney rode for the first time. He appeared dressed as Philisides the shepherd
and spoke verses written in a pastoral mode, in praise of his beloved Mira and
of the Queen. This name is used in some of the poems in the Arcadia.
More
important, when Elizabeth visited Leicester's home in Wanstead, Essex, in May
1578, she was entertained in the garden by a pastoral play or masque, The
Lady of May, written by Sidney and acted by boy actors from the Chapel Royal
with the famous comedian Richard Tarlton. The Queen is asked to judge between
two suitors who are wooing the pastoral May Queen, the mild shepherd Espilus and
the violent forester Therion. This play combines comic horseplay, artistic song,
and pastoral elements in a quite new way; Espilus perhaps represents Leicester
and his policies at a time when he had many rivals for the Queen's
ear.
In 1579,
Elizabeth seemed to be ready to marry the French dauphin, the Duke of Alencon,
who came to London himself in the summer to woo her. The Protestant faction, led
by Leicester and Walsingham, were horrified; but Elizabeth did not like
criticism. A writer, John Stubbs, and his publisher had their right hands cut
off for producing a book in which Alencon was attacked. Sidney also wrote a
letter of protest to the Queen, for which he was not punished. A little later,
though, he was involved in a public dispute with the earl of Oxford over the use
of a tennis court. Oxford was a vicious man, as well as the highest Earl in
England, and Sidney had a fierce temper combined with a deep sense of social
inferiority. In addition, they were on opposite sides over the French marriage.
Sidney withdrew from court and went to stay at Wilton House with his sister, who
was pregnant. During the summer of 1580, and probably until at least 1581,
Sidney worked on the first version of his Arcadia, the "Old"
Arcadia, the first pastoral prose romance in English, with his sister and
her companions as his intended audience.
The Old
Arcadia
Although nine
manuscripts of this first Arcadia survive, it was not printed until the
20th century. Instead, a combination of Sidney's incomplete revised
Arcadia with the second half of the Old was published and read until the
18th century. The first version of the Arcadia is far lighter than the
second, and intriguing in its passage from comedy to near-tragic seriousness. It
is divided into five books, perhaps related to the acts of classical drama, with
a long section of eclogues (pastoral poems) between each. There is a general
correspondence between the content of the prose narrative and the concerns of
the poems; the first three books and sets of eclogues are concerned with
varieties of love; books 4-5 with their set of eclogues are devoted to a study
of what happens in a leaderless state, and show the consequences of human folly
although the worst is avoided by a last-minute twist to the
plot.
The plot of
the first version of the Arcadia is a fantastic mixture of pastoral and
moralistic elements; central to it is the question of individual responsibility
in society. Duke Basileus, with his wife Gynecia and their two daughters Pamela
and Philoclea flee a threatening oracle and hide in a pastoral village. Two
cousins, Pyrocles and Musidorus, from another country, are in Arcadia. Pyrocles
happens to see a portrait of Philoclea and falls in love. He goes to the village
disguised as a girl, Cleophila. His cousin follows, sees and falls in love with
Pamela, and enters the village disguised as a shepherd,
Dorus.
The
cross-dressing leads to immense complications, since Gynecia senses that
Cleophila must be a man and falls in love with him, while her husband does not
have her insight and also falls in love with "her". Finally, Musidorus elopes
with Pamela. He is about to be overcome with passion and rape her in her sleep
when a band of ruffians captures them. Cleophila meanwhile has arranged for the
Duke and his wife to come to a dark cave, each expecting to find "her" there
alone. By clever arranging, they make love to each other, the Duke convinced
that his partner is the young woman he desires, but Gynecia has recognized his
voice. In the morning she reveals
the truth to him; he drinks a "love potion" she had brought and drops dead. She
surrenders to the regent, who happens to
arrive.
Meanwhile,
Cleophila has become Pyrocles again and is quite
shamelessly
making love with the amorous Philoclea. They are detected and captured. Pamela
and Musidorus are brought back as prisoners. The king of Macedonia arrives and
the entire case is entrusted to him. He sentences Gynecia and the two young men
to death. It is suddenly discovered that one of them is his son. He disowns him
and insists on the law. Suddenly Basileus wakes up, he was not dead, and there
is a happy ending with the marriage of the lovers.
This story
leads the reader into several traps: the secret of the potion is kept from us,
so that the restoration of Basileus is a complete surprise, while the sympathy
we feel for young love invites us to accept uncritically an increasingly strong
eroticism and the immorality of their behaviour.
Following the
model of Sannazaro, Sidney placed a series of lyric poems, the Eclogues, between
each of the Books. Many of these had probably been composed by Sidney in the
previous years, but here they are given to competing shepherds, among them the
authorial figure Philisides, as well as the two friends Strephon and Klaius who
both love the mysterious Urania, "thought a shepherd's daughter, but indeed of
far greater birth", who has left
Arcadia while ordering them to wait there until they hear from her.
Such poems
were especially significant to those who were aware of the need for a New Poetry
in English; they could find in them the proof that their tongue, too, could be
the medium for such sophisticated formal games as were played in Italian,
French, and in the classical works. These poems are splendid examples of
craftsmanship, and include several specimens of quantitative metre in imitation
of classical meter, where the pattern is given by an alternation of long and
short syllables, without concern for stress.
Sidney used a
greater variety of line and stanza patterns than any other poet of his time: 143
different patterns occur in his 286 poems, 109 patterns being used only once.
This may be compared, as Ringler has noted, to the less than 20 rhythmic
patterns represented in all Tottel's Songs and Sonnets. Sidney was famed
as an innovator in poetry, and his poems are found in more manuscript copies
than any other Tudor poet's.
After
completing the first (Old) version of the Arcadia, Sidney continued to
look forward to getting a position at court. His family was deeply in debt, and
he tried various ways of improving his situation during the years 1581-3 but
none worked, while a number of events must have weighed on his mind. In 1578 his
uncle Leicester had married Lettice Devereux, the widow of the first earl of
Essex, although they may well have been lovers even before the death of Essex in
Ireland in 1576. In 1580 she gave birth to a son who thus displaced Sidney as
Leicester's heir.
There had
seemingly been some kind of idea that Sidney might marry one of Essex and
Lettice Devereux's two daughters, Penelope Devereux. However, in 1581 it was
suddenly decided by powerful friends of the family at court that she should
marry Robert Rich, whose father had just died. We do not know what Sidney felt
about all this, but clearly Astrophel and Stella reflects the question
that had existed, since Sidney and the lover Astrophel, as well as Penelope and
Stella, have certain points in common.
Penelope
Devereux's second husband, Charles Blount, Lord Mountjoy, later claimed that she
was forced into her marriage with Rich. Certainly, she had affairs with other
men before taking Blount as her lover; she was officially separated from her
very puritan spouse, Lord Rich, and subsequently claimed to be Blount's wife.
Her brother was the 2nd earl of Essex who was executed in 1601 following his
abortive revolt; with him was executed Sir Christopher Blount, her mother's
third husband. Penelope died in 1607, while her mother survived until
1634!
The
Defence of Poesy
Sidney had
early become known as a patron of letters, and many writers dedicated their
works to him, including Spenser who dedicated his Shepheardes Calender
"To him that is the president/Of noblesse and of chevalree" in 1579. Earlier
that year an Oxford scholar and former dramatist, Stephen Gosson, had dedicated
to Sidney his new book: The Schoole of Abuse, conteining a pleasaunt
invective against Poets, Pipers, Plaiers, Jesters, and such like Caterpillers of
a Commonwealth. This book represents a radical protestant attack on all the
literary arts, following the line of Plato's Republic, claiming that
fiction, drama, and all poetry are lies and therefore unedifying. Also in 1579,
an old friend of Sidney,
the great
French scholar Henri Estienne, published his very important Projet du Livre
intitule De la precellence du Langage Francais (Project for a book entitled
Of the pre-excellence of the French Language). Sidney was thus able to
appropriate French models (he used other of Estienne's works too) at the time of
the Alencon marriage affair, in order to assert strongly the superiority of the
English language and to promote the creation of a specifically English literary
tradition. His Defence of Poesy (printed in 1595 with the title An
Apology for Poetry) was written rapidly, probably in 1582. It may partly
have been designed to support the growing idea that he should marry Frances
Walsingham, whose father would be impressed by such a serious piece of
writing.
In addition,
Sidney still had no position in court, no title, but was known to be a poet; he
therefore sets out to affirm the high value of this activity, and the nobility
of the title of poet that Gosson and others had attacked in the name of
Christianity.
He therefore
starts by referring to the ancient roles of the poet:
Among the
Romans a poet was called vates, which is as much as a diviner, foreseer,
or prophet. . . so heavenly a title did that excellent
people bestow upon this heart-ravishing knowledge.
One of
Sidney's main ideas is that the lives created (or re-created) by the literary
author make such a deep impression on the readers that they find themselves
impelled to try to live like the characters they read about. This teaching is
done by example, not by precept, and here Sidney is confronted with a problem.
How is it that people can create imaginary characters far more virtuous than the
ordinary run of mortals in real life? He has to suggest that the poet is
inspired from above.
Poesy
therefore is an art of imitation, for so Aristotle termeth it in the word
mimesis--that is to say, a representing, counterfeiting, or figuring
forth--to speak metaphorically, a speaking picture--with this end, to teach and
delight.
Sidney goes
on to propose various categories of poet, the religious first, with David's
Psalms as the highest example; then philosophical and historical poems where the
subject-matter is not in itself poetical although the prosody is verse. The
third group covers those whom he terms "right
poets":
. . . they
which most properly do imitate to teach and delight, and to imitate borrow
nothing of what is, hath been, or shall be; but range, only reined with learned
discretion, into the divine consideration of what may be and should be.
The other
very significant section of the Defence comes when Sidney later turns to
the poor state of poetry in England and indirectly wonders why he has so few
worthy companions
But I that,
before ever I durst aspire unto the dignity, am admitted into the company of the
paper-blurrers, do find the very true cause of our wanting (lacking)
estimation is want of desert--taking upon us to be poets in despite of Pallas
(Wisdom).
He offers an
interesting evaluation, focussing on Chaucer, Surrey, and Wyatt as notable poets
in English. This is followed by a surprisingly long discussion of English drama,
of which Sidney had no very high opinion. He concludes by demanding a new
standard of truth in the love lyric:
...many of
such writings as come under the banner of unresistible love, if I were a
mistress, would never persuade me they were in love: so coldly they apply fiery
speeches, as men that had rather read lovers' writings (...) than that in truth
they feel those passions, which easily (as I think) may be bewrayed by that same
forcibleness or energia (as the Greeks call it) of the
writer.
The final
paragraph of the work sums up its main arguments and at the same time highlights
in a particularly witty manner the polemic that it is designed to sustain,
ending with a curse on bad poets:
...thus much
curse I must send you, in the behalf of all poets, that while you live, you live
in love, and never get favour for lacking skill of a sonnet; and, when you die,
your memory die from the earth for want of an epitaph.
Astrophel and
Stella
In recent
years the spelling "Astrophil" has been widely adopted at the suggestion of
Sidney's 20th century editor William Ringler; in this spelling the link with
Sidney's own name Philip is made clear, as well as the sense "star-lover" from
the Greek, (Stella is Latin for "star") but at the expense of the
parallel with other traditional pastoral names ending in -el. The old editions
(an unauthorized one made in 1591 and the official one of 1598) both use the
form Astrophel, as did Spenser in his poem on Sidney's
death.
The dating of
the sonnet-cycle is not certain, but in its present form it seems to form a
single unit with the Defense, since the original complete title of the
cycle was "Astrophel and Stella: wherein is illustrated the perfection of
poesy" and it is possible to read the work as forming an illustration of the
ideas about love-poetry and energia that Sidney formulates in the
Defence.
Certain
features in the cycle suggest an identification of Stella with Penelope
Devereux/Lady Rich, but the precise significance of this is far from clear. It
would certainly not be helpful to read the cycle as the proof that Philip Sidney
loved Penelope Rich. In view of her reputation, it is hard to recognize her in
the paragon that Stella seems to be. It may be that Sidney intended her to be
the first recipient of it, and perhaps hoped to help her gain a clearer view of
the demands of virtue by this entertaining portrait of an unvirtuous
wooer.
The sequence
contains 108 sonnets and 11 songs and has a clear underlying narrative
structure, unlike any other English cycle. The male speaker, who never names
himself, offers an analysis of his very one-sided passion for Stella in a
step-by-step series of poems that culminate in the Second Song placed after
sonnet 72. Stella is for a long time unaware of his feelings, and once she knows
she is cautious in her responses since she is already married. Finally she seems
to have accepted her admirer's devotion, but only on condition that his love
remain platonic and virtuous. In the Second Song, however, he finds her asleep
in a chair and kisses her without permission. This makes him very happy, and
Stella very angry. The rest of the sequence shows how their relationship breaks
down into hostile indifference on Stella's part, and despair for the unreasoning
male lover.
The first
sonnet indicates the literary tension that the cycle sets out to explore, the
way in which a poem has to seem to be the spoken reflexion of genuine personal
feelings while it cannot avoid being a written text, part of an artificial
literary tradition:
Loving in
truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That the Dear
She might take some pleasure of my pain,
Pleasure might
cause her read, reading might make her know,
Knowledge
might pity win, and pity grace obtain,
I sought fit
words to paint the blackest face of woe...
These poems,
we learn, are designed to be read by Stella herself, and the writer's first aim
in writing is to "persuade her he is in love" (Defence). It is only much
later that the reader is able to evaluate fully the oddness and correctness of
the "Fool" applied to the poem's speaker in this last
line.
The second
sonnet summarizes the whole story of the cycle from a point in time lying after
the completion of the last poem:
.... now like
slave-born Muscovite,
I call it
praise to suffer tyranny;
And now employ
the remnant of my wit
To make myself
believe, that all is well,
While with a
feeling skill I paint my hell.
The story
thus outlined is so allusive that the reader can scarcely guess at the
complexities involved. The speaker uses the conventional language familiar from
Petrarch and his imitators, but deriving from classical antiquity, by which the
heart of the man in love is wounded by Cupid's arrows. The word tyranny in most
such poems implies an exercise of power by the loved woman that is usually
understood to mean that she rejects the man's hope of a mutual relationship. It
is only when we have read the last poems on the theme of frustration and despair
that the full implications of the word hell become clear.
One of the
main attractions of the cycle is the way it dramatizes the contradiction between
ideal and real love, as in these lines from Sonnet 5:
It is most
true that eyes are formed to serve
The inward
light, and that the heavenly part
Ought to be
king (...)
True, that on
earth we are but pilgrims made
And should in
soul up to our country move;
True, and yet
true that I must Stella love.
This is only
the first of a number of sonnets constructed in the form of philosophical or
moral debates, in which the lover admits all the arguments of traditional
theory, only to contradict them in the last line by reference to his own
reality. This fifth sonnet is interesting in that it states one of Shakespeare's
fundamental themes in such a play as King Lear (that owes so much to
Sidney's new Arcadia) where characters such as Goneril and Regan become
rebels against nature and in the end destroy themselves.
A major theme
of the Defence and of the first sonnet is the problem of writing
creatively under the constraints of a strongly conventional literary tradition.
Sonnet 15 expresses this in mocking tones, at the same time as it proposes a
solution:
(...)
You that poor
Petrarch's long-deceased woes
With new-born
sighs and denizened wit do sing;
You take wrong
ways, those far-fet helps be such
As do bewray a
want of inward touch,
And sure at
length stolen goods do come to light;
But if (both
for your love and skill) your name
You seek to
nurse at fullest breasts of Fame,
Stella behold,
and then begin to endite.
(write)
The earlier
sonnets suggest that the lover is content to gaze at Stella and admire her
without her being aware of his feelings. At last, though, his desire for a more
complete physical expression is awakened by the thought that Stella is married;
this is jokingly expressed in a riddling sonnet (Sonnet 37) that can only be
understood by making an identification between Stella and Lady
Rich:
(...)
Who though
most rich in these and every part,
Which make the
patents of true worldly bliss,
Hath no
misfortune, but that Rich she is.
Slowly the
tone becomes more complex; the lover is no longer satisfied with merely looking
at Stella and longs, apparently in vain, for recognition and a mutual
relationship. As a result he finds himself at the threshold of unrequited love.
The parallel between his situation and so many conventional love tragedies
strikes him painfully when he sees Stella moved by a romance, while she
continues to ignore his torments.
One of the
main attractions of Sidney's sonnets is their dramatic energy, the way they seem
to represent spontaneous emotion's overflow while casually respecting all the
demands of the sonnet form. No sonnet does this more powerfully than the inner
monologue of sonnet 47. The impression that Stella is deliberately ignoring him
provokes feelings of revolt, feelings that die as soon as he sees her
coming:
Soft! But here she comes! Go
to:
'Unkind, I
love you not!' O me! That eye
Doth make my
heart give to my tongue the lie.
(contradict)
There is in
fact no indication that the lover speaking these poems has had long
conversations with Stella; most of what is said springs from a one-sided
fascination that becomes increasingly obsessive. Already in sonnet 52, we find
him cynically making a distinction between Stella's soul, which is Virtue's own,
and her physical body that he says Love (Cupid/Eros) claims:
Let Virtue
have that Stella's self; yet thus,
That Virtue
but that body grant to us.
The situation
changes in sonnet 69; he has at last had some kind of conversation with Stella
about his feelings, and she has accepted his love-service in a conventionally
chivalric way, allowing him to consider himself her servant-knight in his heart,
but only in the most virtuous way:
(...)
I, I, O I may
say that she is mine!
And though she
give but thus conditionally
This realm of
bliss while virtuous course I take,
No kings be
crowned but they some covenants make.
The last line
is one of the cycle's challenges to the reader; today it would normally be
interpreted as meaning "presidential candidates make all kinds of promises in
order to win the election, without any intention of keeping them once they are
in power." This lover is not at all interested in living virtuously, as the
dramatic outbursts in the last lines of sonnets 71 and 72 show: 'But ah!' Desire
still cries, 'give me some food!' and
But thou,
Desire, because thou wouldst have all,
Now banished
art: but yet, alas, how shall?
It should be
clear by now how far Sidney's lover is from the psychology of the conventional
Petrarchan lover. He has become a case-study of male sexual aggressivity,
thinking only of his own gratification and unwilling to recognize the rights of
a woman, if he finds her physically attractive. Yet with what skill Sidney
portrays the gradual development of his impulses. As with Musidorus in the first
version of the Arcadia, passion leads to sexual harassment and attempted
rape. The Second Song, that follows Sonnet 72, is the most important moment in
the whole cycle, for without it our evaluation of Astrophel's words will easily
be misled by his own too permissive view of his actions and attitudes. The song
tells how he kisses Stella while she is asleep in a chair; the last two stanzas
relate the climax:
Yet those lips
so sweetly swelling,
Do invite a
stealing kiss:
Now will I but
venture this,
Who will read
must first learn spelling.
Oh sweet kiss,
but ah she is waking,
Lowring beauty
chastens me:
Now will I
away hence flee:
Fool, more
fool, for no more taking.
Astrophel's
act is what in the modern world is called "sexual harassment" for he shows no
respect for the woman's autonomy; what he, the male, wants is all he can think
of and the moment is one of potential rape. Stella awakes and is naturally
deeply insulted. It is characteristic of the blindness and illusion into which
Astrophel has fallen that he cannot take Stella's anger seriously, and he
produces several sonnets
which ask us
to believe that Stella had freely kissed him: "My lips are sweet, inspired with
Stella's kiss." (Sonnet 74)
The poems
usually printed in anthologies are mostly from the earlier part of the cycle,
because after this disaster the tone grows dark and the subject-matter is no
longer ecstatic love but separation, discord, and despair. Yet some of the poems
seem to anticipate John Donne. As in Donne, the male has to try to find excuses
for a roaming eye. In the end, the lover of Sidney's cycle is completely caught
in the knots he has tied himself in, and the last poem of the series (sonnet
108) shows us a man who will not admit to any mistake, but tries to turn things
so that Stella seems to be to blame for his hopeless
situation:
So strangely
(alas) thy works in me prevail
That in my
woes for thee thou art my joy,
And in my joys
for thee my only annoy.
It is not
easy to know how influential Sidney's sonnets were, but the fact that they were
considered worth pirating by Newman in 1591 suggests that they were felt to have
popular appeal. On the other hand, the rather immoral tale they tell and the
hints that Astrophel is Sidney may explain why the official edition sanctioned
by Mary Herbert did not appear until 1598, when the cycle was published together
with the Arcadia, The Lady of May, and Certain Sonnets.
There are some indications that Sidney did not distribute Astrophel and
Stella very widely during his lifetime, probably for similar reasons.
Spenser would hardly have been likely to have called the dead Sidney "Astrophel"
as he did, if he had read the cycle!
The intensity
of Sidney's "negative capability" is seen in the skill with which he creates a
portrait of a man overcome with passion. Astrophel and Stella is an
astonishingly well-felt anatomy of love-gone-wrong and Sidney must have been
developing new psychological maturity at this time. We are far removed from the
very simple moralizing sonnet included in his "Certain Sonnets" that was
probably written earlier and condemns love's passion in clear, unambiguous
terms:
Thou blind
man's mark, thou fool's self-chosen snare,
Fond fancy's
scum, and dregs of scattered thought,
Band of all
evils, cradle of causeless care,
Thou web of
will, whose end is never wrought--
What Sidney
had realized in the meantime was the impossibility of his last line: the human
will is powerless to abolish the sexual drives and all their associated elements
of aggression and conflict. Astrophel's poems are an illustration of this,
offering no easy solution to one of the fundamental questions in a young man's
life.
The New
Arcadia
In 1582,
Sidney married Walsingham's daughter Frances for reasons that almost certainly
had little to do with passionate desire. The Sidney family was almost completely
ruined by the expenses incurred by Sir Philip's father in the Queen's service in
Ireland. During the years before his marriage, Sidney began to rewrite the
Arcadia. The fundamental plot remains, but it is now given a new
beginning and related in a much more serious, almost tragic, tone. The two young
princes arrive near Arcadia after nearly dying in a shipwreck. The shepherds
Klaius and Strephon guide Musidorus to the home of Kalandar, a wise and good
man, who tells him of the retreat of Basileus to the rural hideout with his much
younger wife Gynecia and their two lovely daughters, showing him their portraits
with the result found in the earlier version.
The first
Arcadia had many comic and ironic features; these are almost entirely
absent from the revised version. By contrast, Sidney introduces far more
military conflict, and stresses the dangers of martial heroism by bringing into
the story so much armed conflict that it seems impossible for the original
ending to be kept. Just how Sidney planned to complete the work is unknown, for
in the middle of the third Book it breaks off in mid-sentence. Life took over
from literature for Sidney.
The style is
if anything more mannered than before, as can be seen from this description of
Arcadia:
There were
hills which garnished their proud heights with stately trees; humble valleys
whose base estate seemed comforted with refreshing of silver rivers; meadows
enamelled with all sorts of eye-pleasing flowers; thickets, which, being lined
with most pleasant shade, were witnessed so to by the cheerful deposition of
many well-tuned birds; each pasture stored with sheep feeding with sober
security, while the pretty lambs with bleating oratory craved the dams' comfort;
here a shepherd's boy piping as though he should never be old; there a young
shepherdess knitting and withal singing, and it seemed that her voice comforted
her hands to work and her hands kept time to her voice's music.
More
characteristic of the tone and material of the new Arcadia, though, is
the episode from the tenth chapter of the Second Book, the story of the
Paphlagonian king, which gave Shakespeare much of the material for his revision
of the story of King Lear:
". . . I was
carried by a bastard son of mine (if at least I be bound to believe the words of
that base woman my concubine, his mother) first to mislike, then to hate, lastly
to destroy, this son undeserving destruction."
(. .
.)
". . . drunk
in my affection to that unlawful and unnatural son of mine I suffered myself so
to be governed by him that all favours and punishments passed by him, all
offices, and places of importance, distributed to his favourites; so that ere I
was aware, I had left myself nothing but the name of a King: which he shortly
weary of too, with many indignities threw me out of my seat, and put out my
eyes; and then (proud in his tyranny) let me go, neither imprisoning nor killing
me, but rather delighting to make me feel my misery."
The main
interest of this episode is certainly the way it seems to have impressed
Shakespeare, providing much of the horror at human cruelty that marks King
Lear (not only the Gloucester plot, but also the fundamental theme of the
unnatural treatment of fathers by their children and the experience of misery)
and even something of the way Prospero was treated by his brother Antonio before
the start of The Tempest.
Sidney's
revision of Arcadia remained unfinished and was published as a fragment
in 1590. His sister seems, though, to have felt that this was not satisfactory.
She took the final parts of the earlier version, had a writer compose a linking
passage, and in 1593 published a "complete" Arcadia that remained very
popular until the 18th century. The near-rape of Pamela has been removed,
Pyrocles and Philoclea do not have sexual relations before marriage. The heroine
of the first recognized modern novel, Richardson's Pamela (1740), may
perhaps have received her name from Sidney's
work.
In the early
1580s the Queen was under increasing pressure to help the Protestants in the
Netherlands in their fight against the Spanish, and she remained determined to
keep England out of such an involvement as much as possible. In 1585 Sidney was
sent to the Low Countries and became governor of the small town of Zutphen, a
very symbolic role that he soon realized was meant to remain symbolic. Perhaps
out of a sense of frustration, he took risks in the very limited skirmishes with
the Spanish that sometimes happened. One September morning in 1586, he went out
riding without having his legs properly armed. Riding through a fog, his people
suddenly found themselves close to a group of Spanish soldiers. There was some
shooting and Sidney received a bullet in the thigh.
Sidney's
childhood friend and admirer, Fulke Greville, later wrote a heroic account of
how the wounded Sidney gave up his water bottle to a common soldier he saw dying
at the roadside, with the words, "His need is greater than mine," but Greville
was not present at the scene. The wound itself was not fatal, but it became
infected and after 26 days Sidney died. His death was in fact a rather
inglorious affair, a stupid accident, and his friends felt the need to glorify
it in order to urge the Queen to intervene in the Netherlands.
Sidney's body
was brought back to London and solemnly buried, several months later, in St
Paul's Cathedral. The memory of Sidney was promoted by the Protestant party for
their own pan-European cause, and by writers who saw the value of what he had
done as a writer and patron of letters. His sister did much to ensure his future
reputation, by her work in publishing accurate editions of almost all Sidney's
literary writings, continuing and completing his translation of the Psalms, and
imitating his patronage of poorer writers at a time when the literary enterprise
was beginning to take on some of its modern aspects.
Further
Reading on Sidney
Katherine
Duncan-Jones. Sir Philip Sidney: Courtier Poet. London, Hamish-Hamilton.
1991.
Sir Philip
Sidney: An Anthology of Modern Criticism. ed. Dennis Kay.
Oxford, Clarendon Press. 1987.
The Poems of
Sir Philip Sidney, edited by William A.
Ringler, Jr.. Clarendon Press, Oxford. 1962.