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The
Literary Shelf
The
Sadness of the Inevitable
With every passing minute, we continue on
the road of experience. Even though we know that the journey of our path
is more important than the destination of death, we continually fear
this inevitable. Building on this fear in “Ode to a Nightingale,” John
Keats* illustrates the need to escape from reality and understanding the
sadness that comes from the realization that there is no real escape.
The poet uses the immortality of a nightingale’s song to contrast with
the speaker’s life and show the reader that reality can be distracted
for short periods of time, but can never be abandoned. In a series of
situations and possible escape mechanisms, the speaker comprehends that
there is a sadness that comes with the knowledge that one’s fate and
destiny can not be altered no matter how stern the attempts.
As the poem begins, the speaker hears the sweet song of the nightingale
and becomes envious of the bird’s happiness. His initial mood shows the
reader that his “heart aches” and there is a “numbness that pains [his]
sense,” the same as the effects of drugs on the mind. (ln.1, 2) The
speaker’s state of clouded sense brings forth a dreary atmosphere as the
poem begins. The poet purposely includes mood to show the reader the
changes that go on in the speaker as the poem progresses. Eventually,
the reader will see that these sad feelings will once again return to
the speaker when his attempts to alleviate them fail. As the stanza
progresses, the speaker hears the bird “singest of summer in
full-throated ease” his spirits rise to thoughts of a possible escape
from his current dismal sensations. (ln. 10) He enjoys the music of the
bird because it helps him come out of this somber state his mind is in.
The poet tries to bring the speaker out of his world and into the wonder
of all that is instilled in the nightingale. As the presence of the bird
brings promising spirits into the speaker’s mind, he spirals into
thoughts of possible escapes from his inevitable life.
The first thing he thinks of is “a beaker full of warm South, the
blushful Hippocrene.” (ln. 15, 16) It isn’t so much the wine that the
speaker believes is the escape, but the feeling evoked when excessive
wine is consumed. The speaker thinks that the carelessness he will feel
with the consumption of wine will lead him to the escape of life that he
desires. He hopes that he can drink himself from clarity, “leave the
world unseen, and with [the nightingale] fade away into the forest dim.”
(ln. 19, 20) This strong urge to leave the world without being noticed
illustrates that the speaker desperately wants to quietly escape from
the realities he faces. This shows the desperation the speaker feels in
his current life. But he soon realizes that the sensation attained from
an abundance of alcohol will only last until the alcohol is within him.
As the liquid passes, so does his elated state and he will eventually
return to the sadness of his reality. Thus, the speaker’s initial
thoughts of escape may be successful in the short run, however they will
fail in the end. Although the first of his attempts resulted in despair,
the speaker hasn’t yet lost his sense of curiosity. He continues to find
better ways to permanently alleviate himself from his current situation.
After declaring his need to leave the world, the speaker digresses some
to illustrate to the reader the reasons for his desire of departure. He
recalls that in his world, as opposed to that of the nightingale, there
is a “weariness, fever, and fret” that consume the individuals and
capture them till death. (ln. 23) He sadly conveys that “palsy shakes a
few, sad, last grey hairs” and the “youth grows pale, spectre-thin, and
dies.” (ln. 25, 26) With specific diction, the speaker illustrates the
uncertainty of life at any stage in the game. The speaker shows that
there is sadness and death in any age bracket because the old are cursed
with palsy and the young are too often struck with tuberculosis. Keats
specifically uses tuberculosis because his brother Tom died of the
tragic disease. Thus understanding the frailty of life, Keats includes
himself in the poem at this point and shares the speaker’s disgust for a
world “full of sorrows.” (ln. 27) This sadness of life is what drives
the speaker to want to fly away with the bird. He somehow sees the realm
of the bird as being above and beyond sadness and mortality because he
can not actually see the nightingale. Yet he knows the bird exists
because of its song. He dreams of a world far away in which the only
thing he hears is the sweet melody of the bird and his worries of death
no longer capture his mind. Being in the realm of the bird will help his
mind create wondrous poetry and ease his current melancholy state of
mind.
Just as the song of the nightingale will make the bird immortal, the
speaker hopes that his written poetry will help future generations
repeat his name and help him live on in spirit. In this way, his sadness
is abated with the thought of possible immortality via his lyrics. The
need to leave shows the speaker’s need to escape from the harshness he
faces in his life. Again his attempt to escape has been thwarted by the
reality he sees. Observing from afar, the speaker asks to fly with the
bird to a place he believes will alleviate this sadness. He asks that
his escape be “not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the
viewless wings of Poesy,” where the lyrics of the bird live forever. (ln.
32, 33) The speaker metaphorically associates the song of the bird to
the lines of his poetry. Believing that poetry stems from imagination,
the speaker rejects the initial escape of wine and moves to a longer
lasting escape of imagination through poetry. The speaker believes that
in the world of the nightingale, there is inspiration for poetry that
can not be found in the darkness of his reality. He notices that “there
is no light” in the realm of the nightingale but it doesn’t matter to
him because without vision, he is better able to “guess each sweet
wherewith the seasonable month endows.” (ln. 38,44) Imagination enables
an individual to escape from his world and into a realm of one that he
creates. This need to imagine that the speaker has portrays his lack of
happiness with his situations in the real world. But when the speaker
comes to know that he cannot reach the far off nightingale, his hopes of
poetry are shattered and he is once again forced to face his life.
Adding to the image of darkness, the speaker’s imagination leads him to
the ultimate escape from life, death. The poem abruptly shifts gear and
the speaker seems to come back from his daydream to understand that he
can never actually be in the world of the nightingale. Along with this
knowledge also comes the readiness to die. At this sensational moment,
he is “half in love with easeful death” and is ready to have the air
“take… [his] quiet breath.” (ln. 52, 54) He sees that there is no
greater moment for him to die then the one he is currently in, one where
he could “cease upon the midnight with no pain” and still hear the
“pouring forth” of the nightingale’s song. (ln. 56,57) Although he can
not join the bird in immortality, he can at least enjoy the music and
die peacefully. This acceptance of death is the third sign of the
speakers need to escape from his world. The speaker is turning to death
as a last resort for his escape. His past efforts have failed him and
his forced now to consider his last option. Since death is the final
escape from life, this assertion implicitly shows the reader the glum of
the speaker’s world. Since the speaker is not yet ready to end his life,
he goes from this morbid thought to the question of the nightingale’s
mortality. His escape attempts have all been rejected and so he then
questions why the bird can stay immortal and he can not.
As the speaker runs out of ways to escape his dismal life, he compares
himself to the nightingale and recognizes the sadness of his own
mortality. He notes that the bird “wast not born for death” and “no
hungry generations tread [it] down.” (ln. 61, 62) This immortality that
the he sees in the bird helps the reader to understand that the speaker
yearns to be with the bird not only to escape life, but also to escape
death. The “immortal bird” is not so because of his being, but rather
because of his song. The speaker says that the voice of the bird he
hears “was heard in ancient days by emperor and clown.” (ln. 63, 64) The
voice then makes the bird immortal because it lives on in the minds of
the people who have heard it. The song never dies and thus neither does
the bird. The speaker comes to realize that upon his own death, he will
not be able to leave a mark as the bird has done. This thought makes the
speaker ‘s mood dismal again while he comprehends the sadness of
mortality of all men. He understands that all men die alone and will
eventually be forgotten. With this final understanding, the speaker
returns to the somber mood that he was in at the beginning of the poem.
The poem was just a journey of thought in which the speaker evolved to
understand the truth in man’s mortality. There is no escape for him and
he must life his last days facing the inevitable. Running out of ideas
and escapes, the speaker suddenly wakes form his trace of possibility
and returns to the drudge he was consumed in before the sound of the
nightingale. Coming full circle, the poem shows the reader and the
speaker the lack of escape from the world.
Throughout this entire poem, the speaker has tried to find ways to
escape his world. When he finally comes to know that there is no escape,
he curses the nightingale for being able to use its mortality to become
immortal. The speaker yearns to find ways to be immortal but is
unsuccessful in his attempts. He comes to realize that his place on the
earth is cemented and he can not shift the world to accustom his needs
and desires. The speaker has evolved to a higher understanding of man’s
mortality with the help of a singing nightingale.
The Poem : Ode To A
Nightingale by John Keats
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness, –
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;
And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain –
To thy high requiem become a sod.
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music – Do I wake or sleep?
–
Tanvi
Patel
February 24, 2002
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