The Lady of Shallot

CARMEN PASCUAL SASTRE

PAPER V

The Lady of Shallot
Alfred Lord Tennyson

(1842)

Part I

On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shallot.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shallot.

By the margin, willow veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shallot?

Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to tower'd Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers " 'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shallot."

Part II

There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shallot.

And moving thro' a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot:
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village-churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls,
Pass onward from Shallot.

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shallot.

But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often thro' the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed:
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shallot.

Part III

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shallot.

The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shallot.

All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shallot.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shallot.

Part IV

In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shallot.

And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance--
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shallot.

Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right--
The leaves upon her falling light--
Thro' the noises of the night
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shallot.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken'd wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shallot.

Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shallot.

Who is this? and what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they cross'd themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot:
But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shallot."

http://www.poetry-online.org/tennyson_the_lady_of_shallot.htm

The Lady of Shallot

William Holman Hunt

(1886-1905)

http://www.epdlp.com/pintor.php?id=2897

The Lady of Shallot is a poem first written by Alfred Lord Tennyson in 1833, and then rewritten by Tennyson himself again in 1842, on which some Pre-Raphealites have based their work. The painting I have chosen is the third version of The Lady of Shallot of William Holman Hunt, oil on canvas (1886-1905).

Tennyson’s poem tells a fantasy story which could be easily understood as a fairy tale because of its plot and of its easy reading. But, at the same time this poem is full of epic elements and symbolism.

It narrates the story of a lady who lives in a tower in Shallot, an island surrounded by a river near Camelot. She is under a curse: if she looks directly through the window some unknown doom will befall her. She has to see the world through a mirror, which reflects what happens over the window. And, at the same time, she weaves a tapestry picture of the landscape, including Camelot. She depicts everything she sees, but she is aware that the reality she looks at is filtered, it is just a reflection.[1]

Some critics have stated how the Lady’s castle and mirror compares with Plato’s cave. In Plato the reflections are the phenomenal world; in Tennyson, the phenomenal world casts the reflections. Leaving both cave and castle supposedly results in disaster.[2]

Moreover, she is tired of this situation, as Tennyson stated in the last lines of the second part:

Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed:
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shallot.

One day she sees Sir Lancelot through the mirror, he is alone riding his horse. She likes him and she turns to see him through the window. After that, she is aware of her action, she takes a boat from the river, writes her name on it and sings her death song as she drifts down the river to Camelot. Once she is there, everybody asks who that lady was, and even Lancelot asks who was such a beautiful woman.[3]

The poem is divided into four parts, and almost all the stanzas of each part end with the word Shallot, most of them with the phrase ‘the Lady of Shallot’. And also all the stanzas share a fifth line which ends with the word Camelot, apart from the ninth stanza which has the word Lancelot at its end. Moreover, the four first lines of each stanza rhyme, as do also rhyme the three lines between the fifth and the ninth line, which end with Camelot and Shallot. Hence, this strange metre gives a rhythmic harmony to the poem.

The poem is related to Camelot and the Knights of the Round Table, in fact the story of the Lady of Shallot is a version of a story from Thomas Malory’s Morte d’Arthur[4]. Because of this, some symbols of the medieval culture, such as the red cross knight (stanza 9), appear in it.

The scene that Holman Hunt represents in his painting reflects the moment in which the Lady of Shallot glances out of the window to gaze directly at the gallant Sir Lancelot. Hunt maybe interpreted the poem as a tale against straying from duty, since some critics have stated that the Lady looking at the world in a mirror and depicting it in a work of art is some kind of allegory for the life of the artist (how being an artist can make you feel isolated from ordinary life). [5]

Hunt paints the scene with exceedingly rich and brilliant colours which have a dramatic effect. He also depicted the image with a lot of movement. The Lady stands up, she is in the act of turning her voluminous body. She has her arms also in movement, she is keeping her pompous skirt with one of them. All this movement and colour, together with the over-decorated walls that surrounds her, give the feeling of chaos, of a situation that is about to explode. The lack of symmetry can be seen as a signal of disorder, a chaotic atmosphere. On the other hand, the sandals just left on the floor are a symbol of rebellion, of tiredness, a symbol that can be interpreted as an anticipation of the fact that the Lady of Shallot is going to break the curse.

Personally, I think that Holman Hunt has represented the whole tragedy in a very intelligent way. He has chosen a scene which is full of energy, full of passion. And he has achieved the sense of explosion and tiredness that Tennyson also tries to achieve. The poem, with its musicality and its epic elements, which are typical of the medieval legends, is also extremely beautiful and has the capacity to engulf the reader in it.

Bibliography

http://www.pathguy.com/shalott.htm

Enjoying “The Lady of Shallot” by Alfred Tennyson,

Scalpel_blade@yahoo.com, 2005

http://www.poetry-online.org/tennyson_the_lady_of_shallot.htm

The Lady of Shallot a poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson,

webmaster@poetry-online.org

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_of_Shalott

The Lady of Shallot – wikipedia, board@wikipedia.org, 2006

http://en.wikipedia.org./wiki/William_Holman_Hunt

William Holman Hunt, board@wikipedia.org, 2006

http://www.epdlp.com/pintor.php?id=2897

William Holman Hunt, 2006

[4]a story concerning Elaine of Astolat, a maiden who falls in love with Lancelot, but dies of grief when he cannot return her love. , http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_of_Shalott