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Graduate Student Theses, Dissertations, & Professional Papers Graduate School

1948

Study of Hart Crane's symbolism in "White Buildings" and "The Bridge"

Virginia Elizabeth Perkins The University of Montana

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Recommended Citation Perkins, Virginia Elizabeth, "Study of Hart Crane's symbolism in "White Buildings" and "The Bridge"" (1948). Graduate Student Theses, Dissertations, & Professional Papers. 3714. https://scholarworks.umt.edu/etd/3714

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A 8TUDÏ Of V BAar OBANa'S SYKBOIISW In m ir a BOHDiNoa a*a Tsa BRiPoa

by

Vlr&lmla Perkias UA*., Moiifciaaa Stat® ^ÊÎT® rslty, là 44

PreeemteG îa partial fulf 111mmt of tha raqulrearaat for the degree of Master of Arts

Montana S tate tln iv ersity 1948

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(j o . ^ Dean, Graduate S cho^ UMI Number: EP35749

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I# mar ORAKs AjfD s'msoLisTs. # . i II* snmoLis* im wm po^: m %Kir& BmiPPZGS# , # . lo %i%* THB WAaaiAOis or FASaros ;j@D mijw. . $ * # em IT# PRm# BUlLDima 70 BSIW$. . * , # , , 61 T. smmona* %i$ 2^ s%im& ...... a* 71, GOBCtUSlO* 4 * . . . . . * , . , $ . . , , , . * JUK) SIBLIGOSAIET, . . , , . * , . * , . . . , . . , . . , 196 CHAPTSB I

IKTRODDCrPlON; EABT 0R6NE AND Tim SW 0UST3

It Is to© oft«a asBwasâ either that Bert Orme*s poems sen he watâerstoea or felt by the average r##ar with­ out muoh outside explamtlom, or that they are so oompletely steeped in mystlelsm* so deeply personal, or so ladklmg In syntaetleal oomeotlom and logie, that they are oompletely esoterlo. Neither assumption is wholly eorreet# Although Crane recognized early in his oareer that his poems would find a limited audienoe, the steadily increasing aiaber of his readers indicates that his poem# must contain a certain degree of universality* The average reader can, throu# careful and repeated reading and application* find much that is rewarding in Crane's poetry* However* in order to reach fuller uMerstending and enjoyment of Crane's poems, it would be very helpful for the average reader to know some of the theories which Crane held concerning poetry, and some of the influences under which he came in the course of his writing, and which were responsible to a certain extent fw making his poems what they are* » Certainly not the least of the influences under which Crane fell at the time when he was groping about for what he thought should be his own manner of poetic expression was that of the French Symbolist movement, Whose chief exponents were 2 Rimbamé# milaame, and laForgue# Briefly, the Symbolists "had ohosen the ommmieatlon of eomplex emotional states by means of indireet detie#» in eluding »y#ols, eompr#s##d meta* phors, and »#tle ausle uhleh suggested rather than stated or deeeidbed**'^ The inflaeao e of th is movement upon Gran# * a poetry %ae probably greater than that of any o^er single poet or group of poets,& It is the purpose of this study, first, to attempt an analysis of some of Oran#*a poetry through a dissuasion of the symbols ehioh he use# in Ihlte Buildinrs. and ear ta in of the ideas whlcà they represent; and second, to shoe the way to a fuller understanding of the symbolism of The Bridne in light of the symbolism in the earlier poems* It is understood, of eourse, that any suah analysis cannot be completely conclu* sive, since, with any poetry which mnploys other than the most obvious symbols, there remains always a margin of doubtful* ness. Readers of different temperament and background may

1. Brm ««ber. Hart Orapei à BlBCTaphlaal Crl tlpal âîaâx . p* 38» 2# fo r 1 biographies of Grans, the reader is urged to see Philip Horton, Bart Grans: The life of an merican Boet. 352 pp., or Weber, gn, e lt* . 4SI pp. G oodshort accounts of Grane's life may be found in George I, Anderson and Ida lou Waltoa, .aitop»! ai» Offijjpslaai 1 of grltï|h p i morloan IJttwatige from 1*14 tt tba graaent. iTth Hlatorlaal and O rities 1 Bessy*, pp* 595*9% and f# G* Mstthiessem, "Graae, ^ ro ll iarir* MolTonary of imerjcan Biography, XU, 206 * 8. ■ 3 a«ver absolutely agree ob final interpretations, but there #111 be, after ©areful reading, a broader area of agreement them may eeem probable a t f i r s t sight* I t is hoped th at tTum suggeetlw of some of the ideas ehieh appear to predominate in Crane*® poetry, other readers will be eneouraged to go fur» ther and deeper in the eo#mom effort of understanding Orme*e poems# In beginning audh a study, It is neoeseary, first of all, to rerle# in aomeehat more detail the principles of sym» boliem* A symbol, In Its general sense, is a particular ob­ je c t whieh has become Imbued # lth a sp ec ia l meaning, so th a t it comes to represent something larger than itself—an abstract Idea, a religion, a philosophy. The cross, for instance, has become th e symbol of C h ristia n ity , and a word is a language* symbol for the object. Idea or emotion Which it represmts* In the narrower sense o f the french Symbolist movement, at the end of the nineteenth cmtury, and the writers who ca rried on th a t movement, symbolism came to mean, in i^ etry , the translation of sense impressions into sound and rhythm In writing# The object of the symbolists was not to sketch In details of an idea, m object, or emotion, but merely to sug­ gest it, by the use of certain key words or symbols—to inti­ mate rather than to declare* As Mallarmé^ one of the chief proponents of the Symbolist movement, expressed It* To name an object is to do away with the three-quarters 4 of the emjoymmt of tbs poem #loh is dsrivsd from #ie setlafaotlon of gosssiag little by little; to suggest it, to evoke it—that is #bet ok arms the imagiaatioa#* Oae of the aiffioultle® attendant upon the reading of C rane's poems, or those of any other m ilte r who makes use of symbols, is that those symbols are ohoeen by the poet, "arbi* trarily,* Idmund Wilson says, *’to stand for speoial ideas of his own—they are a sort of disguise for those ideas»"* Eow» ever, "arbitrarily" is a rather strong term# As shall be seen in examining some of Crane's speeifie symbols, there seems to be an assumption among th e symbolists tbs t th ere are oertain ooaoepts ehieh sink deep into the eonselousness of man, although ostensibly, espeeially when detached from their usual eontexts, they may seem to have little speoial signifieamee# It is through their almost mystical belief that these symbols are potent enough to be somehow meaningful for everyone that the symbolists {including Grane) hope to insure communication* The doctrine of Symbolism shich Wilson finally formulates Is this* Every feeling or senseti on we have, every moment of con­ sciousness, is different from every other; and it is, in consequence, impossible to render our sensations as we actually experience them through the conventional and

8, quoted by Edmund Wilson, ^el»s Gas^e: A Study in the Imaginative Literature of l@?u-lW#'. p# "W*" 4. Wilson, Lee, ei%# amiv#?mal Immgmge of ©rdimry literature# &aeb poet hee h is unique p ereo aellty ; eeeh of his memeats has I ts speoial tome. Its speoial oomhlast lorn of elemmts* Amd It is the poet’s task to find, to Inrmt, the speoial laaiEUage #leh w ill elome be oapable of eapresslmg hi# pereomallty emd feellmgs. @ueh a language must make use of ssmbols; what Is so speoial, so f leeting and so vague eanmot be eoaveyed by direst stataaest or desorlptlom# but only by e euoeeeelom of words, of Images, whloh m il serve to suggest It to the reader# The Symbolists the#* ahlyes, full of the Idea of produeIng with poetry effeets lik e those of musle, tended to think of these Images as possessing an abstract value like musical notes and chords# But the words of our speech are not musical no­ tation, and what the symbols of aymbollm really were, were metaphors detaCbed from their subjects—for one can­ not, beyond a certain point, la poetry, merely enjoy color and sound for their own sake; one has to guess what the Images a re being applied to . And Symbolism may be defined as an attempt by a carefully studied meaae- a complicated association of Ideas represented by a smd- ley of metaphors—to ccmmnnleate unique personal feelings,5 And this communication of unique personal feelings cannot be achieved except through sysbols or concepts which can strike deeply Into the reader’s consciousness to suggest larger, mere profound meanings than the simple, more obvious meanings of the symbols themselves* I t Is here th a t the reader of Orene runs Into h is first difficulty—that of recognising and applying the larger meanings to the Images v&lch the poet has used to suggest his own special Ideas or feelings. As stated before, Crane great­ ly admired the French Symbolists, particularly LaForgue and Blmbaadf Philip Horton speculates that Crane, In his desire *’to enrich the province in poetry by poaching on the other

5# Ibid. . pp# 81-82 6 arts [ffitisîo and painting], to enlarge his o«n medlnm by assimilating or reproducing theirs," was like Rimbaud, "who had wished to Invent a poetic language that would be ’aoces- slble to all the sense# • * • to write silences, nights # $ # to fixate vertigoes**"® And Brom Weber, in his discussion of Rimbaud as one of three men who exerted great inflow ce upon Crane, .w rites; Crane’s Indebtedness to Rimbaud is more then problem­ atical, df course. There Is textual evidence that Crane read Rimbaud’s poetry as e a refu lly as any w rite r can ever read another, although I t was Rimbaud’s a e sth e tic theory that influenced him first* It is even possible to con­ struct interesting relationships on the further basis of biography * * • ®e must note * • • th a t Rimbaud’s aesthet" i s tW ory was amenable to someone of Crm e’s temperamwt, Ideas, and am bitions; th a t Rimbaud’s poetry co n stitu tes a high point to the equalling of which a poet might well dewte himself; that RlW>aud*s spirit was one with whl#i Crane felt a powerful affinity* More specifically. Crane did employ the method of Rimbaud; end th ere is in h is poetry much of the syabolism. Imagery, and vocabulary of Rimbaud, although transmuted and re-worked la accordance with an individuality that is unmistakably Crane’s own.* In order that the reader may acquire a more complete under­ standing of the Influences which guided Crane in his use of symbolism, it might be appropriate to include here Weber’s quotation and analysis of Rimbaud’s a e sth e tic theory, since, of a ll the french Symbolist poets, Rimbaud was probably the one who influenced Crane im»st*

6* Philip Horton* Hart Grane; fhe Life of an American Poet, p. 170. ~ ’ 7. Weber, og^. c it.. pp. 149-50, In the f i r s t plane, "the I is somebody e ls e »" The poet is a medinm for the t ransmi e a ion of 11 s song, he exists apart from his self, and it is this self #ich is his song» Therefore, he meet study this self in all Its phases I "The first eubjeet for a man to study eho wants to be a poet is his own eonselousness, all of it# Be searehes his soul, Inspeets it, tries It, learns it*** Rimbaud Implies that the eonselousness whloh has been entrusted to men is timeless, linked both to the past end to the future. In order to study it, one must adopt the methodology of the prophétie visionary, and "The poet makes%imself a seer by a long, immense, and reason*» ed derangement of ell the senses# All the forms of love, sufferin#, ÿoily, ne searehes in himself, he boils down in himself so as tO keep nothing of them but the quintes» senses^** Having d is tille d the senses, he must convey them in the literary form whloh is organically inevitable; "If that which he brings back from down there has form» he gives form; if it is umfomed he gives unform," Ihis form must be embodied in a language which is adequate, not an exhausted vehicle of the past, but something new . that transomd@ logical construction by depending on the association of thoughts for a total meaning, "find a language , # #" Rimbaud wrote, "This Isnguage will be of the soul, summarizing everything; mm ells, sounds, colours ♦ * "® Since this Is the theory that guided Gr&ne la much of his w ritin g , i t becomes obvious th a t to reed Orene*s poems for the first time is not to understand them fully. One may be impressed, moved, by th e sounds of h is language, by the richness of tone and color; one may feel perhaps something of the emotion, idea or sensation vhieh the poet is suggesting; but it is not until one has read one of Grane*s poems repeat­ edly that full enjoyment comes; by guessing little by little what is being suggested by all the components of the poms-- sound, structure, rhythm, image—one is carried into an ever-

0* Ibid*# pp. 146-47 6 widening stream of a yaps thy and understanding. The phrases which have been puzzling or obscure before begin one by one to take on significance, then to fall into patterns or groups of larger significance, and finally a realization cc»®s-—al­ though perhaps inooaplete—of the enperlenoe which the poet had in writing the poem, Yvor Winters has suggested that Crane's seeming ob­ scurity is an advantage for the reader, for it forces his a tte n tio n upon the details of the lines; Mr, I, A, aiohsrds has spoken of the str&tegic value of obscurity, and in the ease of a poet whose use of words is so subtly dense with meaning and overtone, ehoae poems are so free of dead but restful matter, an additional logical obscurity is likely to force the attention upon separate words and lines, and so facilitate at the out­ set an appreciation of the details as details, which may, in turn, lead on to a grasp of the w h o le ,® When one dees fix his attention upon individual lines and images, in the course of repeatedly reading the poems and in working toward a tentative understanding of them^ one eventually begins to notice that there are certain images which run through them, certain words or phrases shiCh occur time after time, often in the same or similar combinaticms. In noting and marking these, one notices how they seem to fall into patterns, and gradually begins to perceive what some of the ideas contained la these patterns are, and what

9, Yvor Winters, **Bart Crane's Poems,” Poetry, XU (April, 1927), 49* @ these images might represent. It is important to emphasize, however, th a t with Grme they do not represent simply one idea or emotion—Crane♦§ larger meanings are many faceted, and eannot be redueed to a elngle set of meanings, elthoe^ one meaning may be central, the others subsidiary. The remainder of this paper shall be devoted to an analysis of the poems in White Buildings and in The Bridge, and to the ooneluslone eoneemlng Crane's symbolism derived from the analyses of the poems. CmPTEB I I

SYMBOLISM IN THE POBK IN WBITE BUILDIN08

Ihlte Buiiaia#8. the first oollection of Qrme*B poetry# #&e publleheA in December# 1026, %hen the poet e&e twenty-seven years of age* The eolleetlon consistes chiefly of poems which had been published earlier in various little magazines—2àâ 2W&» Measure. Secession. iPoetrv. and others* These poems were written over a span of nine years— from 1917 to 1926—and show, as sh e ll be seen in the discuss­ ion of the individual poems, Crane*s development of a complex­ ity of thought and his mastery of poetic vocabulary# AB Stated in the Introduction, the images or symbols which Crane employs appear to fall into patterns, end these patterns appear to contain certain key ideas, or themes, which run through many of the poems in the collection White Buildings* Among these themes or threads# there are two which ernerge<^predominantly# if only from the frequency with which the symbols which represent them are repeated. These two themes appear to oppose eaCh other, end in their simplest form# m i^t be stated as human warmth, friendliness, and love# opposed to coldness, alienation, fear and hate# There are also symbols to represent the division, opposition, or dual nature of these thanes, and there is still another set of symbols which appear to represent an attempt at unity—a 11 drawing together of the two opposing themes Into some sort of harmonic whole—something whloh Orene strove for throu#* out his life, both in his personal life and in hie poetry. Before enlarging upon these themes, it might be weH to enumerate some of the smholm which appear to represent th#m, to notice how they do f a l l in to two d is tin c t groups, and how closely related the symbols within these groups appear to be. They ere not unlqm with Orene; many of them have been used W earlier writers and philosophers—indeed, some of them are as old as the race of man itself* In the first group belong the sun and sunlight, fire and flame, the color red, noon, summer and spring, wine, and blood. Into the sec­ ond group fell the moon and moonlight, whiteness, enow and ice, winter, Ther are, of course, many other images, some of them no doubt related to those just listed, others which may or may not be related* Then, further, to these grows of sym­ bols seem to belong certain conceptions which are not named outright, as are the symbols of sun, fire, whiteness, etc., but Which are often merely suggested by certain phrases* They belong somewhere in between the two poles of object as symbol and larger theme or meaning} they are suggested, and in turn suggest, further, s till larger meanings* The con­ ceptions which are related to the first group of symbols are those of life*s change, flux and f 1 o% , fertility, femininity Ig anâ lov6| birth and death* and the seasonal cycles; those related to the second group are chongelessness, Immuta* bllity, sterility, masculinity end lust, and eternity* ?hen there axe a number of terms whloh Orone used to indicate the division between these two themes; duality is found in such terms as mirror, mid, between, break, bro­ ken, line, scatter, independent, #vided, partition, tom, sunder, double, twin halves, cleaving and cleft, rend and sever* F in ally , th ere a re a number of s ymbols th a t appear to represent the unity which Grane was attempting to achieve out of these two opposing themes* There ere some ra th e r strong indications that this unity cam come only through death, though in the end it remains ambiguous* sometimes Orene seems to be thinking of some kind of spiritual love* as that which unites passion and intellect and integrates them into something finer; or it stay be a force at once love and death* At any rate, there is much love-deeth-sea symbol­ ism in the poems, especially in the "Voyages*" The sea is probably the chief symbol in White Buildings of this unity; for Grane* it has qualities both desirable and undesirable; it is something to be both feared and loved* Other possible symbols of unity are bells and music; perhaps Grane was try­ ing to transpose both these thA#es into seme kind of harmonic and melodic whole* The concept of the bridge as a symbol of spanning, of 13 th# jolnluG to g e th e r of these two opposln^r Ideas, appeere Im White Buildings, landing elgnlfioano© to the fact that Orane W&oae the agmboi and title of The Bridge for his major—»what he called hie epic-'-poem# There is frequent us© of audh te me as adjustment, reconcile, across, mingle, stretch, straddle, span and join* Sleep, too, being connected with the concept of death, seems to be another symbol of unity# The question of what represented unity to Crane is central to an imderstaading of the final meaning of all Crane’s p o e try and of the interrelaticmshlp of the other symbols he uses# If death Jj£ the only final unity for Crane, and If, as seem# to be the case, the see is one of his symbols for unity, the fact that Orene ended his life by leaping from the rail of a ship into the sea takes on an interesting significance# It la appropriate at this point, then, to look at some of the symbols In the poems, to notice their recurrmce, and to a rriv e a t some of th e ir p o ssib le meanings* The symbol of whiteness is one which occurs with more frequency than any other in White Buildings, with the possible exception of the mn and the sea* Grme was familiar with the works of Melville, and loved them (he read Moby Dick at least three times); he employed them as reference materials when writing %e Bridge, and commémora ted Melville in the 14 poem **ât Melville*a Toaû>**^® For thla reason, It is inter­ esting to recall Melville’s elmpter in Moby Dick on "The Whltemees of the Whale," and to be tie* some of the objects and ideas ehleh he associates with *hitwees# "Bethink thee," he says, "of the albatross, whence come those clouds of spiritual eondermeot and pale dread, in which that white phantcm sails in all imagln* ati ons? Not Ooleridge first threw that spell; but God*s great, unflattering laureate, Nature#"!* Be speak* of the Albino man, the marble aspect in the pallor of the dead, the muffled rollings of a milky sea, the white depths of the milky way.!® "Dr is it," he questions, "that as in essence whiteness is not so much a color as the visible absence of color, and at the seme time the concrete of all colors; is it for these reasons that there is such a dta# blackness, full of meaning, la a wide landscape of snows—a color* less, all-color of atheism frmn which we shrink?"!®

10, Philip Horton, Bart Oranei The life £f an American Poet, pp# 19®, gOBff# 11. Berman M elville, Moby-Dlck. or The Whale. I , 256, !®# Ibid.. pp. 258, 245# 15, Ibid.. pp# 243-44, M elville's mention of Ooleridge suggests ano'ine'r possible Influence upon Orane, for Ooleridge, too, employed many of the symbols which are found in Orme's poems, Orene was an enthusiastic reader of Ooleridge (see OSitlpaj, Stg^jü pp# 127, 508), and it is interesting to compare Orane* a use of the symbols of the moon, whiteness, ice and sun with Ooler­ idge* s combination of the same symbols in "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," Crane*s mentlcn of the albatross la "Voy­ ages IV" calls to mind both Melville’s and Ooleridge** use of the a lb a tro ss symbol, Robert Pena Warren has discussed in 8(me detail Ooleridge** use of these symbols. See "A Poem of Pare Ima«iaatioat Reconsiderations VI." Kenyon Review. VIII (Bummer, 1946), 591-42V. ------1 5 At any rate* %hlt#ae#s bad unpleasant coiinotations for Orane, as a glaae® at "Sortb labrador*" one of Orane*a e a r lie s t poems, *111 abow* A land of leaning lee Hogged by plester^grey arobes of sky* Flings itself silently etern ity * "Has no one oome bere to *in you, Or left you *1# the faintest blush Hpon your glittering breasts? Haye you no memories, 0 Darkly Bright?" 0old»bushed, there la only the shifting of moments That Journey toward no Spring-* Ho birth, no death, no time nor sun In answer,Id %e symbols here are not so mimerons as to be enoessivaly confusing* There is, clearly the idea of timeleesnees, un­ changing, in "eternity," "no memories," "the shifting of moments that Journey toward no spring,"—mo seasonal cycles, nor time; "no birth, no death,"—no life cycles, "Ho sun," of course, is mentioned, and ther* is probably a reference to the sun in "no one leaving the faintest blush upon your glittering breasts"—a reference to the red reflected light of sunrise or sunset; "blush" also indicates life, and car­ ries connotations of blood—the stream of life—which is lacking here, "0 Darkly Bright" recalls Melville*» "dumb blackness, f u ll of meaning, in a landscape of snows*" Here

14* Hart Crane, The Collected Poems of Hart Orane* p. 78, 1 6 there ia lig h t , but a m id , black light, and throughout the poem th ere i s a blank, immdlmg whiteneae* But beyond the symbols within the poem, there appears another—what does the title , "North labrador," signify? Does the poet simply envisage such a land as cold and life-» le ss and th ere fo re e iril—and in th is eonneetion one remembers that the ninth and final ring of Bell in Dante*s Inferno was that of freezing Gold* Or does the land represent the poet*s feeling of aemplete sterility at times, or the blank futility which life sometimes seams to be, in such a way that life and death have lost their meaning? Is it a eritlclaa of society, or a statement of the poot*s feeling about society? It may be all of these things, and more* Here, immediately, is the limitation of a ll symbolist poetry—we are not permit­ ted to ask exactly what the poet*s emotion was at the time of writing the poem—we can only know in terms of his images— as he can only suggest in their terns* Having looked a t Orane * s use of one of the major sym­ bols for the idea of coldness, alienation, and fear—white- ness—we may turn to another, the symbol used most frequently to represent the opposite theme—the life-giving sun, repre­ senting warmth and love* "Garden Abstract" is another of Orane*B early poems, and as in "North labrador," the symbol­ ism is not so packed as to be extremely difficult* The apple on i t s bough is her d e s ire ,— Shining suspension, mimic of th e sun. 17 The bough has ©aught her breath up* and her voice, Dumbly articulate in the aient and rise Of branch on branch above her, blurs her eyes. She is the prisoner of the tree and its gresm fingers, And so she comes to dream herself the tree, The idnd possessing her, weeving her young veins, Holding her to the sky and its quick blue, Drowning the fever of her hands in s unlignt. She has no memory, nor fear, nor hope Beyond the grass and shadows at her feet#15 What a different picture this poem presents when contrasted with ^Morth Labrador*# Here are life and warmth, and a human being possessed by the joy and ecstasy which these things bring# The girl is caught up in a moment of desire-*the apple i s , as a mimic of the sun and carrying the vision of redness,: a sy#bol of warmth, of passion, That she is the prisoner of the green fingers of the tree is significant also, as one of Orene*s symbols fo r love seems to be hands# There is warmth, too, in "weaving of young veins" and in "drowning the fever of her heads in sunlight#" finally, all doubt, all conflict, is lost in the utter possession of the moment—"no mmnory, nor fear, nor hope," Brom eber has said of this poMi that it possesses "frank delight * # , in the joys of physical living, in lust and passion, in the caress of the wind and the warmth of the s u n #"15 %ese, then, are the two them##, the two forces, which

15# Ibid,, p# 70.

16# Weber, 0 £# cit.. p. 77. 1 8 ##r@ pullia # a t Orane» and aymbols representing these theme#

0 0 0 ur throughout moat of the poems In White Buildimg&A a© matter what the subjeet of a particular poem might be# A# Crane’s mastery of his teohni u@ developed, his poetry he* eame more compact, with a re su lta n t crowding of more and w re symbols into a single poem# And as Crane’s personal emotional problems increased, as his hope for some kind of synthesis of his position as a poet with the materialistic society of America, and for a synthesis of his duality of nature became more desperate, he sought more constantly for some kind of unity, some binding factor which would make an integrated whole of his perscnality and his poetry. He fin* ally ended his personal struggle by taking his cm life; whether or not he came to feel, in his poetry, that death was the only unity is a problem #lcb we shell consider fur­ ther* But first it is necessary to consider some of the other poems ia White Buildlnms. to find to whet @%tmt this symbol* ism appears, and what other problems Orane considered in his poetry, from "Recitative," fmm which the title , White Build* imcs. ia taken, it may be possible to extract some of the larger meanings out of the profusion of symbols which occur in it, and to gain a fuller understanding of the difficulties which e x is t in Grane’s symbolism# Regard the capture here, 0 Janus^faced, As double as the hands that twist this glass. 1 9 Sueîi eye# at ##arah or rest you oammot see; Reciting pain or glee, hoe can you bear* Tela shadowed halve#* the breaking eeeond hold# In each the skin alone, and so it is I crust a plate of vibrant mercury Borne cleft to you, end brother In the half* Inquire this much*emctimg fragment smile, Its drums and darkest blowing leaves ignore,-- Defer though, revocation of the tears That yield attendance to one crucial sign* look steadily—how the wind feast# and spins The brain's disk shivered against lust. Then watch While darkness, lik e an ap e's face, f a lls away, And gradually white buildings answer day* Let the same nameless gulf beleaguer us— Alike suspend us from atrocious sums Built floor by floor on shafts of steel that grant The plummet h ea rt, lik e Absalom, no stream . The highest tower,--let her ribs palisade Wrenched gold of Mineveh;—yet leave the tower. The bridge swings over salvage, beyond wharves; A wind abides the ensign of your w ill*,. In alternating bells have you m t heard All hours clapped dense into a single stride* forgive me for an echo of these things, And let us walk through time with equal pride#*? Dpon several readings of the poem, one may arrive at the meaning of the poet looking at himself In a mirror, and speaking of his dual nature—passion and warmth of motion as opposed to the ivory tower (white buildings) of the in- tellect—and perhaps in the final stansa assuring himself th a t the two can be fused in to a kind of u nity. Then, upon

17* Crane, o£* c it.. p. 91* go dieopverlmg Graa»*s of the poem in a letter to Allen Tate, ahe W# #o&%le& by It %ben it appeared in it# nnrevlaed fèrm in M ttla Aatlt*" begin# to reàlia# boa many meaning# m y be attaohed to a poem employing mym# bole by the poet himaelf, a# aall a# th# additional meaning# ahleh may ooonr to the reader: ^Imagine the poet,* he arote in reply to %te*a qneriw, *#ay, on a platfcrm apeaklng It* The andlenee ie one half of Emnanity, Man (in the am## of Blake) end the poet the other* Also, the poet aeO# himaelf in the aadimee a# in a mirror* Also, the audienoe #ee# Iteelf, in part, in the poet* Agalnet thle paradonl# eal PRAUTT i# peaed the BMITY, or the eonoeption of it (a# you got it) ia the last verse* In another sense, the poet is talking to himaelf all the %my throu# the poem, and th ere are, as to© o f'ten in my poem#, other ref lane# and aydioliam# in the poem al#o ahleh it aonld be silly to write bere**mt least for the present**18 looking at some of the symbols in the poem, one may n o tiee how they may suggest some of these meaning#* D uality, of eourse, appear# in tba vision of the poet and his image in the glass, in the terms *fann*-faeed," *twln shadowed halve#,* *eleft,* ^brother in the half#* Intel loot a# opposed to pas­ sion is found in "the brain*# disk shivered against lust,* in the darkness falling away to reveal white buildings, in the sums built floor on floor (of the buildings) that grant the heart no stream (of life-blood), in the tower, whloh the poet bids himself, or the reader, or the audienoe, to

18. Quoted by Horton, on* © it*, pp. 171*?2# * 1 lemv# for tb# bridge, #ileb is the spaa to liaJc them elth hwmaaity, life, and ehioh la also a aymhol of amity. Them# la the final etenma, fairly elearly, m m s a plea for oaltyi "hoars elapped dam se lato a single stride," "salt throa# time with eaaal pride," There Is s till another level of meaning In the poem, Orane is probably speaking to the aadlenoe as to Amerloa, asking for a position In Arne ilea as a poet, SAlng for onder* standing and cooperation from his audience, bidding them to leave a place in the city with its material and commerolel pursuits ("atrocious swas built floor on floor") for the heart-**for emotion, for kindness ("Defer though, révocation of the tears"), for poetry* The poet wants to be included In the hnmanity of America, and he wants America to imolnde the p©et»-"let the same nameless gulf beleaguer us," He asks America to leave the tower «'"the city and all It stands for»- for the bridge, Wiloh shall synthesise the duality he has been speaking of* Crane wrote this poem In the fall of 19BS, shortly after he had conceived the idea of writing The Bridget his use of the bridge as a symbol of unity In this poem Is no doubt a reflection of Crane#s absorption at this time In the concept of the longer poem, which was to be a synthesis of America, The fact that Crane felt most of his life a sharp di» vergence between his position as am artist and the attitudes em of iiatoriallttio* miaaie*»!###à m rim toward the art let 1# mo doubt the baele of mudh of his use of symbols ref reseat» lag ooldmese, megleet* ladifferemee, and eYen hate* This feeling probably had It# origin In Orane*# relationship with hi# fathsr# a typical pzosperons buslnes# men who wanted Hart to succeed him In his candy busines#, and #o was totally unable to understand a son who wanted to be a poet. The pro* blem of the artist in American was a very real one for Crane^ although It gave rise to certain Internal etmflicts sAlch he was unable to resolve* Crane*# indentifying commercial Amer» lea with his father helps to explain his ambivalence; he could neither completely reject or accept either without feelings of #llt* He had a definite feeling that the artist was being brushed aside in the mad scramble for money and la the,glorifiéetlon of materialistic values in the it£0*s* Yet he believed that deep in the Amsilcan heritage and in the American future there was much rich material for the poet* and that this material, if given form and di recti on by a poet such as him self, would go fa r to awaken in America a ecmse of spiritual values * In this belief he had much In eommon with %hltman, whom he greatly admired, and whose poetry in­ fluenced him considerably. In an essay entitled "Oeneral Aims end Theories," which Or me wrote In 1025, he stated; I am concerned with the future of America, but not be­ cause I think that America has any so-called par value as a state or as a group of people * « • It Is only because I feel persuaded that here are destined to be discovered 25 aertalm as yet mdeflmed spiritual qoemtttle## perîssp» a mm hierarehy of faith hot to be dooalopad so ooaplotely oleoahar#. And ia this proooa# I like to feel sqrself a# a potential faetorf eertelnly I mist apeak Im its terms and e)^t dlaoOTerlee I may mke are situate* la It# experlenee.*» It Is nevertheless true that he âiâ feel mush bitter* ness about the artist's being frustrate* by the ueeesalty of earning a liv in g when doing so not only l e f t him with very little time for ereatlve effort, but also left him physloally an* spiritually exhausted, this experlenee was Orme'a both when he woikeâ at various positions In the employ of his father an* when he was writing eopy for advertising ageneles#

Two poems 0 aspeelally, whleh give volee to this feeling are **fralse for an DTn" and ^ôhapllaesquo** "Praise for an Wrn" la subtitle*, "In Hemorlams Imeat Mel son*" an* Allen Tate has eaUe* It the finest elegy written by an Amsrlean poet#^ Meleom was an older man* a friend of Crane Who died only a few months after their first meeting# Ee ha* been both a painter an* a poet in his youth, but hi# talm ts ha* disintegrate* under the pressure of making a 11 v* Ing In a lithograph faetory# 11s failure arouse* such great spapathy In Crane that his death inspire* "Praise for an

19* Bart Crane, "General Alms and Theories," Inolude* In Bortem, elt.. Appendix I, p. 525. 20# Allen Tate, "In Nemorlam: Hart Crane," Bound an* Bom# T {July^eptem ber, 1932), *16. Ë4 An examinât ion o f th e poem in tom e o f I ts eynihole mill help to elerlfy Orane*# attitude tomard the problwi. It mas a kind and northern faoe That mingled in suoh exile guise The everlasting eyes of Pierrot And, of Gargantua* the lau^ter# ÜS thoo#ts* delivered to mi From the white eoverlet and plllom* I see now, mere inherltsnoes*-- Delloat# riders of the storm. Here is the ploture of the artlst*^klad, and mingling thi marmth of Pierrot, the gentle el own, with the gusty laughter of Gargantua# The seoond stanxa shows the deli sate sensl* billty of the artist, who inherits the thougghts and spirit of his Horse anoeetore # The slant moon on the slanting h ill One# moved us toward pressetlments Of mbat the dead keep, living still, And suoh assessments of the soul As, pfrohed in tbs o remat or y lobby, %e insistent oloek eossaented on, fouohing as well upon our praise Of glories proper to the time# This is the tragedy of the artist*# situation# The moon, symbol o f the feelin g of ooldness end In d iffersnee (Orane speaks elsewhere of "deaf moonlight*), has in a sense given a foreshadowing of just suoh a situation, Where the man has outlived his reason for living and his joy la livlng#*hls poetle talent"M#and Is th erefo re dead, k ille d by "assess*

El# Horton,og. olt.. p. 113# mem ta*-«material â®»inâe-«upos the soul* The **ln»iit«at eloek« may alee be a eymhel of the material eorld, ehloh 11 Tee by eloeke, amd It, too, has an Influence upon the **glorles proper to the time*—the glories of artletle oreatlom . S till, having In mind gold hair, I eannot so# that broken bro# And miss the dry sound of bees Stretehlng aoross a lueid space# Weber calls "gold hair" one of Crane's symbols for love^M probably rightly, as It appears In other poems connected with love symbolism# The "broken brow** is broken by the weight of material necessity, and bearing In mind his love for his friend, seeing him broken by unnecessary and futile effort, the poet thinks of the creative effort, the artistic work, symbolised by the "sowd of bees," that hi# friend might have "stretched across space" to bridge the distance between the material and artistic worlds# Scatter these well «meant Idiom# Into the smoky spring that fills The suburbs, where they will be lost. They are no trophies of the sun#23 But fin a lly , Orane recognises the f u t i l i t y of cwamemoratlng his friend in words—the words w ill be lost In the "suburbs".

E2* Weber, oj^, c l t ». p. 110 Crane, SSSig. 2 l # r t , PP* SS*»o9 # 86 a» obvious symbol of aidCte-*olass Aasrioa» The ory of the poet for a plaoe is la valm# The smoke of "smoky spriiag" Is a referoBoe to the smoke of industry, the backbone of sub* urbla, and one of the chief manifestations of a materialistic society# Spring in America is at best "smoky," filtered through that white, negative symbol of industrialism# "They ere no trophies of the sun"* they are not the pure products of absolute fertility and warmth, even as the spring is not, but rather of the coldness and futility which the poet finds in the world# "Ghaplinesque" expresses much the same feeling # Grme, commenting upon the symbolism and meaning of the poem, ex* plained that the "we" of the poem "expressed his feeling of Identity as poet with Chaplin, the tragi-ccmlo buffoon, and that poetry, or human feelings, was symbolized by the kitten in the wilderness#"^4 We make our meek adjustm m te, Contented with such random consolatione ÀS the wind deposits In slithered and too ample pockets, for we can s till love the world, vho find A famished kitten cm the step, and know leeessee for it from the fury of the street, Or warm tern elbow coverts. We will sidestep, and to the final smirk Iktlly the doom of that inevitable thumb That slowly chafes its puckered index toward us,

24# Horton, elt..p . 99* $ îaolng the âuil aqalmt %lth #hat Imnoaenoe Ânâ what aurprisat ÂBâ yet these fine eellapeee are not lies More than the pirouettes of any pliant came% Our obsequies a re , in a way, no enterprise# We ean oraâe you, end all else but the heart* What blame to us if the heart live on* The gams emfUrees smirks* but we have seen The moon in lonely a lle y s make A grail of laughter of an empty ash ean, And through all sound of gaiety and quest Eave heard a kitten in the wilder n e s s #% Orane wrote of the poem* I have made that "infinitely gentle, infinitely suf­ fering thing" of Eliot's into the symbol of the kitten# I feel that, from my standpoint, the pantomime of Oharlle represents fairly well the futile gesture of the poet in the ïï#i#A# today, perhaps elsewhere too# And yet, the heart lives on # # ,26 And Horton says that it is signifleant for an understanding of the poem to know that while he was writing it, his oeeupa- tlon was tramping about the streets of the elty delivering handbills#^ The title, then, gives the first symbol—Ohaplia re­ presenting the di sillusiomment of the poet in the modem world# Orane sailed Ohaplin "the prime interpreter of the soul imposed upon by modern oivillsation."26 His efforts at

25# Hart Orane, The Colleeted Poems of Bart Orane. pp. 95-^4 . 26# quoted by Horton, eg# o it,. p# 100# 27# lo e # o i t . 28. Weber, op. olt,. p. 108. tT&sioa. of his fat© are home out In the terms "aajustmwt#'* anâ "eom solatlona,* The wind appears to symhollze for Qr&m at moat time# the workings of ehanee, oireumataaee, or aeoi- dmt$ The klttm» as Orane has explained, represents poetry or human feelings, whleh he is sheltering from "the fury of the street"*—the cruelty of the modern world* "The ins vit'* able thumb" o ffe rs more d iffic u lty , b u t the meaning beoos clear after It is explained that it belongs to the polli who constantly reproves the kind actions which Ohaplin in &Q his films performs for other less fortunate than he* The policeman, then, m l#it be a symbol of Orane*# fa th e r and of unsympathetic society in general* The third stanza shoes the poet evading the doom of hi® feedii^s in the world, and in the fo u rth stanza he redeems only the h eart, symbol of warmth, kindness, love, as the one thing that has any real meaning in the world of today* In the last stanza, it Is the "game" of life that enforces smirks, but there are consolation#*# finding beauty and warmth in homely things such as an ash can, and hearing the cry for beauty and emotion through the sounds of gaiety and quest for wealth in the wilderness of the world* in these two poems there is an indication of what one meaning may be, then, for the duality in Crane*# poems* As

29* Ibid.. p. 109. » in the duality is betwew the poet end hi# end* lenoe, and also between the two nature# of the poet him#elf#* the 0oldness of Ms Intelleet end the warmth of his emotion** here the duality 1# between the cold indifference of coamer* elal Àmerle# of the twenties and the poet who Is trying to restore to It seme of the basic human value# and feeling®. That both of these Ideas, as well as others, my he repre­ sented in many of the poem# which contain the symbols of the two thmses shall become evident upon ezamlnation of more of the poem# in %hite Building#. •Sunday Morning Apple#" is dedicated to Grme's frieM William Sommer, a painter who liv ed in the Brandywim# Valley near Cleveland* Eorton says that Orane was drawn to Sommer •by his vitality, the Rabelaisian vigor of his spirits, Waich was reflected in his painting in what Orane liked to call 'dynamism,*"30 A rt, as w ell as music, had g re a t power to stimulate Crane. He studied books on art, and 11 Greco one of his favorites. Crane greatly admired Sommer's paint* ing, and wrote "Sunday Morning Apples" a f te r a v is it to Som­ mer's studio in August of 19EB "out of sheer joy."^^ It is one of Crane's "warm" poems, as a glance at the lines will show#

30. Horton, cit.. p. 110 51# Weber, ££. o l t . . p. 114, 50 The leaves w ill fall a^aln e one time ana fill The fleeee of natvire with those purpose# That a re your rieh and faithful strength of line# But now there are ehallangea to spring In that ripe nude with head reared Into a realm of swords, her purple shadow Bursting on the winter of the world From whiteness that ories defiance to the snow# The **you" in the poem i s , o f course, Sommer# The p w t seems to be saying that although autumn w ill come again and bring its rich harvest («fleece of nature”), there is even now warm beauty in the «ripe sude’*--tha apple, probably in a paintlng--as it hongs in the leaves and branches (”bwords«),' bursting from a rich whiteness (indicating both apple blos­ soms and the ripe fruit itself) which defies the snow (both the snow of winter and coldness in general) and the «winter of the world." In this last phrase there is a refermace to the cruelty of the world, because Bummer, impoverished, was forced to work in a factory in Cleveland, and therefore it is another protest against the posltl m of the artist in contem­ porary society# A boy runs with a dog before the sun, straddling Spontaneities that form their independent orbits. Their own perennials of light In the valley where you live (called Brandywine)# I have seen the apples there that toss you secrets,— Beloved apples of seasonable madness That feed your inquiries with aerial wins# Put them again beside the pitcher with a knife. 51 Àad poisô them full and ready for explosi<»i— The apples, B ill, the applesl38 Weber has suggested that the third stanae may refer to a painting by Sommer,% (as may the second sta n z a ) or th a t i t may be the result of Orane*a reading of F# D# Ouspensky, Russian philosopher, who had stated in his Tertlum OrAannm that a dog is unable to understand the principle of recur­ rence, and that consequently the sun which rises anew every morning is perceived by the dog as *a new sun*"^^ This idea of spontanelty-»seeing everything as new—may be relevant to Orane * e desire to escape from lasaory—particularly the mem­ ories of his unhappy childhood. It is also possible that Crane merely wanted to set down in words the glorious feel­ ing of joy and warmth that he found in the Braadywlne Valley. Certainly the sun is the symbol of life-giving waimth, and there is a feeling of uncontaminated warm spirits in the picture of the boy running with his dog in the sun. There is in this stanza, and throu#out the poem, a communication of the warmth, the kindness, and the natural joy that Crane found In rural life. Here is another aspect of Crane * s ambi­ valence—the warmth and beauty of the country as opposed to

32. Hart Crane, The C ollected Poems of Hart Crane., p. 67,

38, Weber, op. cit.. p, 151. 54* Ibid.. pp. 161-lGg 32 the ôity, for Orme frequently expresses, as has been noted in *Heoitetive” end "Ohaplinesqae,” his feeling of the eold- ness end uaccmsolous cruelty of the eity. In the last stanza, warmth is symbolized again In the apples, with th Ir ripe red color, in "seasonable madness" end in "wine." The entire Stanse carries the feeling of spontaneous joy and warm en* thuslesm. For the title, "Sunday Mcming Apples the pro* bable explanation is that since both Crene and Sommer worked in Oleveland during the week, it was on a Sunday morning that Orane paid the visit to the painter’s studio which inspired the poem. Probably one of the most difficult poems that Orane ever wrote is "Possessions," It is an outstanding example of an attempt to comaimicate unique personal feelings, one of purposes of the Symbolists. More than any of the poems dis­ cussed thus farj It defies syntactical analysis and the ex- planatlon of symbols Isolated from their context. Crane himself realized this when he wrotei In manipulating the more imponderable phenomena of psychic *#ives, pure emotional crystallizations, etc, I have had to rely even more on these dynamics of infer­ ential mentlm, and I am doubtless s till very unconscious of having committed myself to what seems nothing but ob­ scurities to some minds. A poem like Possessions really cannot be technically explained. It must rely (ev«® to a large extent with myself) on its organic impact on the imagination to successfully imply its meaning. This seems to me to present an exceptionally difficult pro­ blem, however, considering the real clarity and oonsis- 33 tent login of many of the other poems.®® In the light of this, It would seem most impraetloal and nearly Impossible to study this poem stanza by stanza in an attempt to clear np the syntax and show what eaoh indlvldnal symbol represents. Bowerer, It may be possible to look at the poem as a v&ole to dlsoover what "organic impact" it has on the imagination, end with that impact in mind, to clarify some of the details# Witness now this trust1 the rain That steels softly directi cm And the key, reedy to hand—sifting One momwit in sacrifice (the direst) Through a thousand nights the flesh Assaults outright for bolts that linger Hidden,—0 undirected as the sky That through its black foam has no eyes for this fixed stone of lust##. Accumulate such momenta to an hour* Account the total of this trembling tabulation# I know the screen, the distant flying taps And stabbing medley that sways— And the mercy, feminine, that stays As though prepared# And I, entering, take up the stone As quiet as you ean make a man#.. In Bleeeker street, still tranchent in a void Wounded by apprehensions out of speech, I hold it up against a disk of light— I, turning, turning on smoked forking spires, The city’s stubborn lives, desires. Tossed on these horns, who bleeding dies, lacks all but piteous admissions to be spilt Upon the page whose blind sum fin a lly bums Record of rage and partial appetites.

50# Hart Crane, "General Aims and Theories," included in Horton, 0 £# o lt.. Appendix I, pp. 327-28# 34 The pare p o s s e s s if , the inclusive cloud Ihos© h eart is f i r e s h a ll ®oeie,-*-the white wind ran# All but bright Stones wherein our smiling plays#3d The "Impeot** of the poem m l^t be something like this* the poet is speaking of the consuming power of lust, which, having known, he Is contemplâting In quiet horror, thinking perhaps he ean find release from its power by writing the poem f spilt upon the page") or by love ("the inclusive cloud whose heart is flre"-»as opposed to "partial appetites"), whose fire is purifying, not degrading or disgusting. The overtones are those of a simple narrative, wherein the poet istelling of visits made to a lover (in Bleeeker Street, perhaps), in the rain, and the key is the dehrkey to the lover*8 room, which the poet enters, desiring sexual satis» faction, and yet repelled both by the prospect and the fact. But there is another, deeper Intent underlying the super» ficial narrativeÎ and therein lies the richness of symbolist poetry. For this reason an analysis of the first stanza, whose syntax Is difficult, would probably be helpful, since, for a full realization of the syWbollsm, one must know how the symbols are being applied# The symbolism is, of course, sexual# The "rain that steals direction" and the "key" seem to be phallio symbols, and the "one moment in direst sacrifice" the moswmt of climax

36# Hart Orane. The Oolleoted Poems of Hart Orme. PP. 8g-63# 35 la the mights when "the flesh assaults outright." The "key," then, Is "sifting** or searehlng for "bolts that linger hidden*" One might take "bolt" here to mean a kind of loWc-#the look for whleh the key is searehlng. But a bolt Is not the kind of look that ean be opened with a key, and so oould be a sym* bol of love, which cannot be found through last, slnee lust is as "undireoted" as a black sky which "has no eyes" (con­ tains no stare, and so lacks the means of di recti on or guid­ ance). Thus the poet, who confronts sexual experience trust­ ingly ("Witness now this trust!"), is betrayed. The love and peace that he has sought remain hidden. In the second stanza comes the admission that the ex­ perience is a personal one with the poet, "I know the screen" (the thousand nights) and the "stabbing medley that sways" (the act of lust). There is an indication that lust is masculine, and that mercy, or love, is feminine. And the poet is accounting the total of such moments to see what he has had. The third stanza finds the poet appalled into silence by the enormity of lu s t ; he Is "wounded" speechless "by ap­ prehensions," but Is s till mentally keen enough ("trenchant") to hold what he has found up to the light and examine it. "Trenchant" also means incisive or penetrating, so that "trenchant in a void" has sexual connotations as well in this line, There is a picture in this stanza of the poet gazing 36 out of a round wiMow ("diak of lig h t" ) upon th® spires o f the elty ("smoked forking spires")^ meditating upon the hor* ro r of lumt and d ealre, not only h la oen» but humanity*®* The linking of lust and the elty has meenlng, alao, a# both mere at onee repellent and fseelnatlng to Orane, In tW final stanza# the poet, mho is "tossed on these horns""»*that Is, of the dllwma of being both attraoted and repelled by lust—and "mho bleeding dies," hse lost every'* thing but th e pomer to ery out an admission of h is dilemma by setting It down In the poem In order to find release. The effeet of writing the poem Is to oleanse the mind of the mem­ ory of lust ("blind sum finally bums reoord of rage and par- tlal appetites"). In the last three lines the poet seems to take the problem assy from himself in an effort to find a universal solution* There is an Indloation of a oleansIng fire vhleh Is all-lneluslve, and vhleh shall destroy on a publie seals, burning the lustful elty and bringing death and freedom at ones, eorrespondlng to the explosion of the sexual orgasm shloh aebleves the same thing on a personal level» There Is In the lines something of the ©nolent Idemtlflnation of love and death, and of the notion that the moment of sexual eons(msatlon Is, In a sense, death. To turn from a poem like "Possessions" to "Lashryma# Christ1" Is to see the instability of Orane*s nature, and thus of his poetic expression* for seldom can Grsn© be di- 57 voréeâ from M s poetry# Other poet© end w rite rs hare hem able to attain a oertain objeotirlty about their work, and had Orane been able to do this, much of Ms eonfUaion might have given way to olarlty# Certainly he «as not intention* ally obaeure, but the nature of his payohelogieal make-up, Ms oonfllote never far beneath the surfeee, prevented hie approa^ing his «oA: with any great degree of detaohment* Thus «hen his tortured spirit turns from "Poeeeseiona'' to "laohrymae Ohrieti," and ©earns to aOhleve some degree of peaoe, it is evident that something must have ooourred in Crane*s personal life to bring that peaoe# Weber ealls it **a poem im «Meh the means of adjustment, temporary thou# it may be, are saluted by Crane# The poem is a song of thanksgiving, a hymn of p r a i s e # **257 %e answer to this ehange of tone from "Poaseasioms," written in the fall of 1928, to "laohryaae (%ri©ti** in th e spring of 1924 may be, as Weber states, that *♦ * # the cloud of fire had swept over him— Crane had fallen in love.*®® There is some element of doubt here, however, for Crane wrote the first version of "Imohryma# Christ!** in February, and the letter In which he told Waldo Frank of his love affair, stating that "For many days now, I have gone about quite dumb with something for whloh *happi*

37# Weber, op. o i t . , p. 234# 30. Ibid.. p. 235. 86 Qess» must he too mild a teim# • is dated April 61, 1964# And i f i t is a love poem, i t oontalna a number o f elmnente nbloh Indleete that there is an ambiralene# a till; oertain of the synAols show that the peabe is not eithout b itte m e e e , aa s h a ll be seen upon examina ti on of the poem i t s e l f . %hitely, ehlle bennln* Rinsings fr

39. Weber, lo o # o l t * Z9 n®S8, but th# 8ymboliem Indleates that while the sleauslng has ecaae, i t is a cold* am iro a ic ©leamsiBgj n eith er "bea*- alae" nor *mooa" indicate warmth# In aid# the mill the "ear# maohinery" (sure la the sens# of relentleas) is still* except where the water la running on the #111* unyielding to the stilling effect of the night and the moon* The effect of the stanza is one of washing away not only the ugliness but also the power of industry; however, the harshness of this cleans» ing is evident also in the "immaculate venom" (of the moon) (whitely) binding the "fox*® teeth" (machinery)* And the thorns remind the poet of the crucifixion of Christ in the spring* The thorn# are "perfidies of spring," since they drew blood on the brow of Christ* The tone of the f i r s t two stanzas is that of betrayal; the spring does not bring beauty, but thorns; the cleansing has in it not warmth, but "venom," and the nights opening Chant pyramids*— Anoint with innocence, —recall To music and retrieve what perjuries Had galvanized the eyes. While chime Beneath and all around P istillin^ olemenclss*—worms* Inaudible whistle, tunneling Hot penitence But song, as these Perpetual fountains* vines,-» Thy Bazarene and tinder eyes* But the cleansing, harsh though it Is, is achieved, and the opening of the spring n l^ t bring renewal—chanting, innocence, music (beauty and unity)—and washes away the 40 perjuries (lies or falseness of industry) %hleh had ooatod (*galTsnlz$d*) the eyes so that they oould not see beauty and innoeenoe* All around ehlme "diet111Ing" (purifying) ole- meneles or meroles# worms* (underground trains*) whistle, a symbol of industry, is inaudible, and the poet substitute# as his offering not penltenee (for not having seen beauty), but song (the poem) as his answer to these ’•perpetual foun­ tains*—the oontiaually flowing mroy or renewal of Christas eyes# R# P# Blaekmur has made some Interesting somments on some of the lines of the poem whloh should be worth while noting here. ,#,..Razarme, the iplthet for Ghrist, is here wed as an adjeotlve of quality in oonjunetlon with the noun tinder also used as an adjeotlve; an arrangement whloh will eoea baffling

40, a. p. Blaekmur, "ROW Thresholds, Raw Anatomies. Rotes onm a a Text Text by by HartHart Orane, Orane, " ^...... Double Aaao^.tx graft and Elucidation, pp.. 135 4* corûial, so that the riddles of life (or death} are am#» iNorod, Bmt eoaothimg very meer the oontrary may have hem imtmded, or both. Im amy ease a gueaa 1# ultimate» ly eerthleaa, because, elth the defeetIve aymtaz, the words do not verify it* , * *1 ' Somathing ahioh my shed additional llfht upon this elanae la the quotation by Horton of some limé# of am earlier poem lAldi mere imeorporated into thia ]^##age of "laehrymae Ohriatl*: At length the vermin and th# rod blind thee at once,»» *•*•»** fhe sphinx %#on the ripe borage of death elear# with her tall thy tongue and Imatamtly ahell dare ask from th e ember# of thy Img# a measure of full praise#*,*** fro® all this perhaps a meaning like the following earn be derived; frtm having come near to, or tested, the Inserutable riddle of death, from having experienoed horror and pain, the poet*# tongue has been cleared, so that he can speak freely, without repression, now that he has found peace# Orane may also have been referring to the fact that he used alcohol as a stimulant in writing poetry, and that It gave him release#**

4 1 # ;bid#. PP* 1 5 8 - 3 ?,

43, Horton, 0 £, c i t .. p* 195 45, However, in the early version, the sphinx*s being >on thborage would seem to indicate the plant meaning for IS word# OrcRC had great faith in words, and used them be­ cause he liked their sounds, trusting the sound to communicate where the literal meaning might not# 4$ At any rate, he is no longer bound by "vermin" {offensive people-*perhaps those i#o were oneympathetlo to poetry or beauty) or "rod" {as an instrument of punishment or as a eeepter and a symbol of authority, tyranny and oppresslonj* The "sentient oload of tear#" is a reference to the tears of Christ, bringing mercy and love, ehleh floe through the poet’s being ("tendmed loam") mmeh as rain falls upon the earth, at once cleansing and revitalising it* "Betrayed stones" indicate that the poet, mho had in "Possessions" been betray­ ed by lust, and by the dlty and machine, has, through the merciful quality of (%rlst’s tears, regained the power to apeak #f the beautiful, Name# peeling from Thine eyes And th e ir undlmmlng la ttic e s of flame, Spell out la palm and pain Compulsion of the year, 0 Nazarene, Instead of tears falling, names are "peeling" from the eye# of C h rist, w ith th e ir undimmlng flam®, or warmth, "Names" might be a reference to words, which te ll in palm {"palm" seems to be a "warm" symbol for Crane, wggeeting tropic beauty and freedom, 4 4 and here may also be a reference to Palm Sunday, and perhaps a symbol of happiness) and pain {suffering, possibly Christ’s suffering on the Cross) the "compulsion of the year"—the compelling forces of life.

44, Bee Hart Crane, "Royal Palm," The Collected Poems SC Jtei Szma#p * 1:1# 44 realities, some of nbloh brine happiness, others suffering, lean long from sable, slender boughs, ÏÏastanohed and luminous. And as the nights Strike from Thee perfect spheres, Lift up in lllao-amerald breath the grail Of earth again"» Thy fao® from charred and riven stakes, 0 Dionysus, Thy _ Unmangled targ e t sm ile. Here Is the final praise, the final hope, the song of peace. The poet eeeme to id e n tify Ohfl st with Dionysus, the god o f wine and drema end spring, end the "sable slender bou^s," in addition to signifying the Gross, my. Miss Walton sug* geste, be e reference to the old druidioel sacrifices,^® The poet is asking Christ to continue to preserve beauty and love for mankind through Eis sacrifice, and to life up again the "grail of earth""-the hope of man, Christ’s face—which, although it has bean the "target' of mu# abuse, is still "unmangled, " and its smile is maentinguisMble, muCb as the Gross, although "charred and riven" from its abuse by mankind, is still the symbol of that sacrifice. Thus the poet has finally found a hope, a positive belief in love and beauty, and the poem is, as suggested before, a swg of thanksgiving and praise.

45. gpi^,. pp. 84»86. 44. Georgs I, Anderson and Ede Lou Walton, This _ eration* 4 Selection of British end *mericsn Literature fro: lo the' %esenrwi%rBTs{^or anii Critical jRAsaM.pj , 45 ^Xaoîjryiaa© Chrlati,^ a poea in whleh Crm a aphlava# aath arsia and paaaa, and alngm of p ralae amd love, fOramaos the ^Toyagee" aequanoe, lu #iah ail the poems hat the firat and poealbly the laat are love songs, and all of ahloh^ with the eioeption of "V o y ag es:written in Ootober, 1921, war# ooffiposed between April, 1924 and April, 1925, the period of the love affair mentioned earlier* The fast that thia affair, like all Orane*a important love affairs with the exeeption of the laat, was hoaosexual, is of little Importmoe in oonsider* ing the infiaeno# which it had upon Orane*a work, eicapt for the fact that Crane's lover was a aeai%n, and from time to time made voyages from which he returned to the rooming house in Brooklyn where Crone was living at the time* But the poems in the sequence that are love poems bear little evidence of this aspect of the affair* The poems serve not only to open new horizons in the study of Crane*a symbolic, but also to crystalline some of the conceptions already gained, for while they bring into the study love—-not only love as a powerful, overwhelming emotion for another person, but also the role of love uni ver» sally in human life—»they also usher in the sea, with all its terrible beauty, all its deception, its all-incluslveness, its power of destruction, and its fascination* The "Voyages" sequence serves as a particular example of how the sea is perhaps the chief symbol of the unity which Orane was seek» 46 Ing tor bis dualisms# But although the sea seems to be linked, in Crme*s mind, in e x tric a b ly w ith death, most of the ^Voyages" are love poems* If there was a confusion or ambiguity of love and/or death as the final unity, as the last lines of ’’Possessions’* seem to indicate, and if, as th is seeow to suggest, Grans was re a lly in love w ith death, (and his final leap into the sea seems, at least super* fioially, to bear this out), there is irony in his use of The Bridge as the title of his major poem. As the symbol of the i^panning or unifying force which was to link poetically America’s traditional past with her great industrial present and her hope or vision of the future, in the broad Whitman* ian sense, it is merely the expression of the bri#t, false optimism that he would be able to reconcile himself to, and find a place in, modem society* It is therefore, in spite of all its passages of truly great poetry, as far as Grme the mm was concerned, a failuie# It will be easier to determine the truth or falseness of this speculation after examining The Bridge# first, a more minute examination of the "Voyages’* is necessary to see just how Orane used the symbol of the sea in his love poems* ’’Voyages I" serves as an introduction to the remainder of the sequence. Although it was written nearly three years before any of the others, and is not a love poem, it does set the tone—sound the keymote~*for the remainder of the 47 sequeaee, and it is probably for this reason that it is In- oluded #lth them* (It was originally published in Seoesaio* as ”fha Bottom of the Sea is Gruel.") While it has a brll* liant olarity that la not found in many of Orana's other poems, it leeks some of the riehneas of symbol and langueg# that eharaeterlaes the other "Voyages*" àMbvé the fresh ruffles of the surf Bright striped urehlns flay eaeh other with sand* They have eem tdiraia eenqueat fo r sh e ll ehueks# And their fingers a ramble fragments of baked weed Gaily digging and seatterlag* And in answer to their treble interjeetlone The sun beats lig h tn in g on the waves# The waves fo ld thunder on th e sand; And eould they hear me I would te ll them* 0 brilliant kids, frisk with your dog, fondle your shells and etleks, bleaedied By time and the elements; but there is a line You must not cross nor ever trustibeyond it Spry cordage of your bodies to caresses Top lichen faithful from too wide a breaft. The bottom of the.see is Cruel**" There is here the sharp contrast which is further developed In the later "Voyages" between the bright scene on the shore where the children are playing in the sand end the sun, warm and earthy symbols, clean and bri# t, and the nearness of the sea, tempting with its surge and power to the children play* ing on the beach, but a dark force, too, which would snatch them away, if it could, from this brilliance of life into the

47* Hart Crane, ^le Collected Poems of Hart Crane. p* 101. 4$ all##mbraolng death and anoayjsity iwhleh It represents# Weber calls it "an ambivalent force, alternately attracting and re* palling %lth surges of maternal love and clutching death#"*# Althou#i superficially it is attractive, caressing, soothing, at the bottom it is cruel, as death, or life, or love, is cruel* and one eho becomes well»aoquainted with it recognizes that there is a line between its kindness and its cruelty; it embraces and caresses all to eagerly, too ell-inclusively, to be anything other than indifferent and Impereonsl, and in* difference and impersonality are kinds of cruelty which Orane knew well# There is a note of wistfulness In Orane*a address­ ing the children, for the impliesti on la that they cannot hear him; he is aware of the distance that separates him from a hsppr childhood# The major symbol of the "Yoysges," then, is here in- treduced—the sea, with a ll its fascination, tremendous power, attraction, and all its cruelty, fearsomeness, treachery, and above all, its utter Indifference to thosi it attracts or re­ pels# It is the id el symbol for either love or death, both forces vhlch have those ualitles, and perhaps bees#se lobe meant to Orane an explosive cleansing, a submission to a vast, universal force which submerges personality, a force closely resembling death, they became linked in h is mind, and

48, Weber, op, oit#. p, 106# 4,9 be eheee the tea es the symbol of both, "Voyages II" demomstratem his ebsorptioB with these qualities of the se@; its T estasse, aad uaooatrolled power. And yet this greet wlak of eternity. Of rimless floods, unfettered leewardIngs, Samite sheeted and proeeesloaed whs re 1er undinal rest belly aoonward bends. Laughing the wrapt Infleetlons of our love; Take th is Sen, whose diapason knells On aorolls of silver snowy eestenoes, The soeptred terror of shoee sessions rends As her demeanors motion well or ill, All but the pieties of lovers# hands. Here it*is-»a "wink of eternity"; the sea seems linked Wre with all the synhols of eoldness, uafeelingness, a vast, un* direeted, uneontrolled power, "rimless," "unfettered," bead* lag toward the moon, another symbol of soldasse, and laugh* ing at the warmth of love. It is truly a power**# terrible, authoritative ("soeptred") power, delivering judgments ("de* meanors mat!on well or ill"), and rending, destroying eveiy* thing but love. And the eonneetlon of the sea with death is in "diapason knells," for diapason, in musie, is the entire octave, and perhaps here could mean the whole of the sea, which "knells"—the signal of bad tidings or death. The re* let ion of the sea with musie, or bells, is significant, too, for both music and bells seem to mean some kind of unity for Grace, and he ocaaposed much of his poetry under the stimulus of music, the phonograph playing as ho wrote, and yet tW 50 sea a ni le?@ cannet be separated, either, for the sea "l@n#e the inflections of love," and bee not the power to eeparat# lovers* And onward, as belle off San Salvador Sainte the crocue Imstree of the stare, In these poineettia meadows of bar tides,— Adagios of islands, 0 my Prodigal, Gomplete the dark confessions her veins spell* Mask how her turning shoulder* wind the hour#. And hasttto while her penniless rich palms Pass supereoriptlon of bent foam and weve,*- Hasten, while they are true,••sleep, death, desire, Olose round one instant in one floating flower* simply using two words, "And onward," Orane le able to give the impression of a boat travelling over the sea; it reaches the tropical region of Sen Salvador, and the bells are heard in the towers of the sunken city off its coast. There is here another indication that bells or music and the sea have much in common»•here the bells have been submerged in the sea* This same indication is in "adagios of isMnds," and of this phrase Orhhe wrote* « • « Shan, in Voyages (II), I speak of "adagios of islands," the reference is to the motion of a boat through islands clustered thickly, the rhythm of tM motion, e tc . And i t se mas a much more d ire c t and c re a tiv e statem ent than any more lo g ic a l employment of words such as "coasting slowly throu^ the is* lands," besides ushering in a stole world of music, The use of flower imagery is effective in this third stanza,

4®, Hart Crane, "General Aims and Theories," included in Horton, 0£, cit*. p. 52?. 51 also I («eroetis lustres of the stars," "poiasettla mes does of her tides") espeolally iten it Is followed by the "one float* ing flower" of the fowth s t e a m s , * 0 this fourth stanza \ the see Is seen as one who oournt# time ("winds the hours"), waiting to engulf everything^ and the poet is urging haste while still m the surf see ( "supe rserl p tlon of bm t foam end wave"), beeause everythin^-—"sleep, death, desire"—dan he swallowed in an instant by the sea as can a flower. Here, too, is further Indlcation that the sea, as a unifying foree, binds or is inextricably bound with, sleep, death, desire (lust) end the flower of loyei, Bind us in time, 0 Seasons el#ar, md awe# 0 minstrel galleons of Oarlb fire, Bequeath us to no earthly shore until Is answered in the vortex of our grave _ The seal*# wide spindrift gaze toward paradise*®! The final stanza is an exhortation by the poet to be found in time, (not eternity), by the seas ms and their changes* But he is asking, too, not to be set ashore from this sea of song and flaming love ("minstrel galleons of

50. The influence of Samuel Greenberg, a young poet who died leaving many incoherent poems in msnuserl pt, which Orane perused, can be seen in some of the symbolim of the "Voyages," for Greenberg’s poems were full of rainbows, waves, shadows and blossos&s, and of the conflict between the spirit and flesh, love and lust* See Horton, op# olt»« P# 175* 51.^1art Crane, The Collected Poems of % rt Ormf* 5@ Oarlb fire"), but rather to be drovsned in it, to fini hie death in it—"vortes of our grave." Here again, love and death are united, and both are linked eith the sea; and the "vortex of our grave" is strangely preeeient of Crane*e aetiml death, "Voyagee" III, IT, and T sound a aueh more personal note than does "Voyages I I ," While "Voyagea II" is a eele# brat ion of love, the next three see# to be addressed a ape el*» ally to one person, and there Is Indies tlon in them of the meetings and partings of lovers, perhaps referenaes to the voyages which Crane*s friend took from time to time during the period of their love affair* But there is more in the poems than biographical incident; they apply to the role of love in human experience, And s till there is the sea, carry* ing all the symbolism noted before, m û taking on wider posai* billties of meaning and larger areas of experlenoe with cash poem, as can be seen from reading "Voyages III." Infinite consanguinity it bears* This tendered theme of you th a t 11 A t Retrieves from sea plains where the sky Resigns a breast that every wave enthrones* While ribboned water lanes I wind are laved and scattered with no stroke Wide from your side, whereto this hour The sea lifts, also, reliquary hands. And so, admitted through black swollen gates %at mist arrest all distance otherwise,-* Past whirling filers and lithe pediments, light wrestling there incessantly with light, Star kissing star through wave on wave unto Your body rooking! and where death, if shed, 55 Presumes m û&m&ge, hut this single ebange,*» Upon the steep floor fleng from dawn to dawn The silken skilled tramemembermmt of song; jgg Permit me, voyage, love, into your hands*•• In the words "Infinite e onaangulml ty" tbs re Is still another Indleatlon of the unity of love and the sea, for the love song ("tendered theme of you") Is "retrieved" from the sea, with whieh it is olosely sonneeted, and the poet is winding over the water lames of the sea to his lover*e aide, while the sea is also worshipping the lover* Now the sea, besides being identified with love, has beoos^ in a aenae identified with the lover, is personified In the sex imagery of the sky resigning a "breast that every wave enthrones," end of the sea lifting "reliquary hands" unto "your side," and parti eu» larly in the sexual imagery of the first six lines of the seeond stanza. Horses Gregory has stated; TO the peyohaiatrlet, there is little doubt that his frequent use of sea imagery in his poetry has an obvious meaning in sexual pethology—but the more important foot is that Grane translated Qiese assoeiations into poetry**" And here death is not something to be feared, but if it ooeurs, it "presumes no oamege," only the flinging of "skilled tranemembement of song"—tw poes^'-throughout time as a memorial of love* Therefore, perhaps, "death" eould be

58, Ibid*, p. 104, 53* Horaee Gregory and Marya Zaturenska, "Hart Orane; Death and the Sea," 4 History of Amerloan Poetry. 1900*1940. p* 470* 64 #üb#titut#a for "lor#" la th# flm l line of tho poo% leadlag oAAltlonal depth to Its memmlmg* “Toyagss If" is a much more difficult poem, both from the standpoiat of symbolism aod that of syatax# Shea Rortoa says th a t Grama Imtaaded mamy poems # , * mot as doseriptlons of sxperismse that could be read about# but as Immediate ezperiemees that the reader eoui'dnSW . very mu# like the ©mes he might have (also #ithoui bameflt of rati ©mal ©xplamation of descriptioal im the seasitlve subllmimal imteriors of h is oem com- soioasaess * , # ,84 he Is speaklag of oae of the teaets of the Sysdwlist movement which would be p a rtic u la rly applicable to a poem lik e ^Voyages IT** For that reason it would be best to look at the poem as a ah ole to see what kind of eaperlemoe can be derived from It, remembering, of eonrse, that the eiperlenoe of the reader may vary, depending upon what he brings to tbs poem# Whose counted smile of hours and days, sappose I know as spectrum of the sea and pledge Vastly now parting gulf on gulf of wings Whose circles bridge, I know, (from palms to the severe Ohiiled albatross's whi%m Immutability) Ho stream of greater love advancing now Than, singing, this mortality alone Through clay aflow Immortally to you, 411 fragrance irrefraglbly, and claim Madly meeting lo g ic a lly in th is hour And region that is ours to wreathe again. Portending eyes and lips and making told The chancel port and portion of our lune—

64# Bor ton, op.* c i t * . p, 178# 55 8b&ll they mot etem end oloae In our o#n step# Bright etevee of flower# end quill# to~dey ee I Must first be lost in fatal tides to tell? In signature of the ioearnate word The harbor ehouldere to resign In mingling Mutual blood, transpiring as foreknom And aldenlng noon aitbin your breast for gathering All bright Inslnwtions that my years hare oaught for Islands where must lead Inviolably Blue latitudes and levels of your eye#,^ In this enpeetant, s till enalalm reeelve The s e a re t oar and p e ta ls of a l l lo v e#55 If one attempt# to aehleve a logleal grammatleal eonneetl of all the phrases in the poem (and it Is probably not lm« possible to do so), he may lose mueh of what Orane has sailed, referring to "Possessions," an "organlo impaet on th# imagination#" Instead, a study of the symbols to deter* mine ahat eonneetlon exists betmeen them may be much mere re* V warding# The poet is evidently addressing "you"—«the lover, whose "eounted smile of hours and days" (limited, or preelous moments of love) he knoos both as the "speetrum" (a series of radiant energies, or probably, a rainbow) of the sea, and as a pledge (peAiaps the poem), whloh part th# gulfs of wings C of time and spaee) whose "elreles" bridge the vast expaw a of the sea, eh lab is no greater then the streem of love that is in the mortality, or body, of the poet, and is flowing throng the poet as he oomea singing (or sends the poem as

55# Hart Orane, The O olleeted Poems of Hart. Or#e# PP* 1G5—5# 8* hie 8ong of love} to his lover# The pereotheele in the staassa oleerly shows the unity Orane was seek In between two ^enee, for meny of the syisbole ere here; the "win®*** of tine end epaee ere "bridging" (symbol of unity) the <11 stemoe from "pelme" (eyiü)ol of warmth) to the "severe chilled albatross*# white Immntablllty" (eymbols of coldness or Indifference). "Fragrsnee" and "olalm" look back to and seem to par* allel "spectrum" and "pledge»" even as they look ahead to "flowers and rullls" and "oar and petals." The second stamsa seems to refer to the meeting again of lovers after sépara* tlon, and the anticipation of joys and of entering once more the warmth of love ("chancel port and portion of our June"). But these moments w ill be lo s t (again th ere is the Image o f the flower of love being engulfed in the sea), even as the poet must be lost in the "fatal tides" of love to apeak of it. (Again th# sea and death and love are joined.) But In this sea he does find the warmth of love ("minting mutual blood" and "widening noon within your breast") in the "islands" or refuges to which his lover*# eyes lead him. The final stensa is a request for the lover to receive the poem, the "oar" by means of which the oat is making bis way over the sea to his lover, and also, in a sense, the flower (petals") or pro* duct of the poet’s love. This is a broad interpretation which ignores, in a way, the logical oonnectlom between words, but it must be r@mmber#d th a t Orme « rete oeaoeraiog the form; • • , the Botivatioa of the poem mast be derived from the imnlioit emotional dynamics of the materials need* and the tarns of expreeeion employed are often selected lees for their logical (literal) significance then for their assoclatloml meanings. Via this and their mete'» phorloal Inter-rale tl one hips* the entire construction of the poem is raised on the organic principle of a "logic of metaphor*" which antedates our so-called pure logic, and which Is the genetic basis of all speech, hence consciousness and th ought-@%tansi on * So all that can be attempted, actually, is to point to pos­ sible meanings of certain symbols* and leave the impact of the poem as a whole to the imagina ti On of the reader, who may, of course, find other possible interpretations of cer­ tain of the phrases, "Voyages V" appears to be an expression of the poet's feeling as he is about to be separated from his lover, who is going out to sea. They are awakened in the dead of night by a sense of the loneliness that is overtaking them in their pending separation. Meticulous, past midnight in clear rims, Infrangible and lonely, smooth as though cast Together in one merciless #ilte blade— The bay estuaries fleck the hard sky limits* —AS i f too brittle or too clea r to touch I The cables of our sleep so swiftly filed. Already hang, shred ends from remembered stars* One frozen trackless smile##,What words Gan strangle this deaf moonlight? For we

56, Ifert Orane, "General Aims and Theories," included in Horton, o£,o it.. Appendix I, p, 587, 58 Ar# overtmkem. How mo ery, mo sword 0am fasten or defleet this tidal wedge# Slow tyramny of moomllght# moonlight loved And ohamged#i*"There*e Rothlng lik e th is Im the world#" you say# Xhowlmg I oammot touch your hand and look Too# into that godless cleft of sky %here nothing turns but dead sands flashing» "*<*Amd never to quite understand#" Ho# In all the argosy of your bright hair I dreamed Nothing so flaglees as this piracy» But no* Rram in your head# alone and too ta ll here# Tour eye# already in the slant of drifting foam; Tour breath sealed by the ghosts I do not know: Draw in your head and sle e p the long way htme»*? The bay estuaries are "lonely" and "merciless whits blades" because they represent the taklng*off point from land to sea, and hence the separation of lovers; they are "too brittle#" too hard# to be touched by mercy# The moon* light, too# Is a symbol of loneliness, deaf to their pleas# It represents coldness, alienation ("one frozen trackless smile") as opposed to the eermth of love, and its tyranny is that it can be loved by lovers and yet change into some# thing that is cold and unsympathetic# The sea# here, is cruel too, shoeing the other side of its dual nature, for it is the "tidal wedge" which is coming between the lovers. The poet cannot bear to touch his lover’s hand and look in­ to the lonely moonlit sky ("dead sands flashing"); and he

59» Hart Orane, The C ollected Pomms of Hart Grme. PP# 109-8# 69 e&nnot umdeMtwa the plreoy of the sea vhloh le taking hi# lover atay , but he oan o ffe r one word In eonsolatioa-**'to' make th# most of the time that Is left, and not to be already in spirit on the sea, i*osa ooldness and oruelty la In "drifting foam," whieh is white, and "ghosts,^ whieh are also white, %e poem la full of the polgnaney whieh all lovera feel upon separation, the feeling of upgenoy, and the desire to treasure eaeh moment that la left# "Voyages VI" la the expression of the poet*# lonell* neas end longing after being separated from his lover, and his thought# are with his love sailing over strange and un­ friendly seas# Be writes the poem as oompensation, for it ean bold #@ moments of love, and oannot leave him {"Whose aeoent no farew ell ean know")# Be imagine# him self wander­ ing over the sea seeking his lover ("the derellot and blinded guest"), but the wates of the sea rear savagely and he doe# not know whether "Belle Isle"*-the rtfuge which he Is soek- ing--ia love, "before whieh rainbows twine eontlnual hair" or death, the "lounged goddess" whose eye# "smile unsear«&'» able repose#" He finally oome# to believe it is the poem, whieh w ill hold love ("Hushed willows snohored in its glow"), and is unbetrayable# Where ley ajod bright dungeons lift Of swimmers their lost morning eye#, and oeeai rivers, church ing, shift Green borders under stranger skies, e© steadily éa e shell seeretee Its bee ting leegiMs of momotone. Or ea many eatere tkough the sun* a Red kelson past the oape'a eat atwe; Bare again la an eeho of Wiat haa been noted before*-tbe llFtt of the aurn (life) being aztlnguiahed in the vatera of the aea (death )«**the oaderlying theme of many of the powaa and an indioatloA of a %leh for death, subdued, but 0000010#"* ally revealing itself* 0 riveaa mingling toward the sky And harbor of the ÿhoanii* breast*"* Ny eyes preaaed blank against the pro#, —Thy derellot and blinded guest. Welting, afire, #hat name, unapoke, 1 oannot olalm: let thy naves rear More savage than the death of kings, Some splintered garland for the sear* There is a suggestion here that the poet is aflame with love, but that the dark waters are rearing up to extinguish that flame In death. There la In these stenzaa, too, an eoho of *The Anolent Mariner," Beyond alroeooa harvesting The solatloe thumdera, orept away. Like a ollff awinging or a sell Flung into April*a inmost day»- ©reatlon'a blithe and petalled word To the lounged goddess when she rose ©onoadlng dialogue with eyes That smile unsearehable repose— S till fervid covenant, Belle Isle, —Unfolded floating dais before Which rainbows twine continual hair— Belle Isle, white eoho of the oar* The storm of the sea abates, however, and he finds the peaoe» 61 fill isle» %hlob may be s floating fervid oovenant of love» or perhaps the poem as bis share in that eovemnt? The Imaged Word» i t is , that holds Hushed mllloms smshored in its glo%* It is the umbetrayable reply Whose aeoent no farewell can kno#**^ The islands whieh are aoattered throughout the **Voy- ages^-'-tbe ^adagios of Islamds" of "Voyages II»" the "Islands" of "Voyages IV" and "Belle Isle" of "Voyages Vi"»#all seem to symbolize for Orane some sort of refuge, appearing out of the limitless expanse of the sea, to v&ioh he can oling, so that he will not be drawn irresistibly under the spell of the aea and engulfed in it. These islands look forward to the last seetiw of The Bridge. "Atlantis," the goal toward whieh he is working in that poem, both for himself end for the Amerioa of the future. "Atlantis," too, is an island—a beautiful flower of an isla n d —set somevdiere in the see* iaire than anything else, then, the islands might represent hope**the bo;;# that Grans kept reiterating, to con vinos himself as much as anyone else, that sometime, someplaoe, there existed for him a b rig h t fu tu re ,

U Hart Orane, The Oolle e te d Poems of Hart Orane. pp. 109-10. CIWPT3R H I

THS KARRIAGE 0? FAUSTÜS EELS*"

Although i t nia# # rltt# n b afore "Toyagea'* and aoma of th# other poama In Khlt# Buildings. "For the MarAaga af Fauataa and Balah^ forma an amaailant transition from tha moad of to that of It aa# in shortly eftar Grana had finished this po^, that ha o

Poet Borton, g&g), ^ m 64 *%%aphor@) a oomtamporary approximatlon to an ancient hnmam eultur© or mythology that a earn# to have beam ob- sonraô rather than illumined *ltb the fraquanoy of poatlo allusions made to it during the last eentury# • , • tha real évocation of this (to me) very real and absolute ooneaptlon of beauty seamed to oonslst in a re«®nstruo» tlon in these modem terms of tha basis emotional a tti­ tude toward beauty that the Greeks bad* And in so doing 1 found that I was really building a bridge be­ tween so-called elassie enperlanoe and many divergent r e a litie s of our seething, confused cosmos of today, which has no formulated mythology yet for classic poetie reference or for religious exploitation* So I found "Belen^ sitting in a street ear; the Dion- y si on revels of her court end her seduction were trans­ ferred to a Metropolitan roof garden with a ja** orches­ tra; and the katharsls of the fell of Troy I saw approx­ imated in the ' reom i world War# The Importer@e of this scaffolding may easily be exaggerated, but it gave me a series of correspondences between two widely separated worlds on Which to sound some major themes of human a pé­ cule ti on—love, beauty, death, renascmce # # 30 here, as elsewhere, is the duality of life which tears at Orane, and again he Is attempting to find some kind of uni- ty—**oorrespondances* between the world of beauty of the past and the modem commercial world, which the poet, as mediator, is trying to achieve# The symbolism is more deer cut than it is in some of the other poems, for after Crane explains that Helen does represent an "abstract sense of beauty" and that Faustus is the poet searching for her in the noisy whirl of modem civilisation, the minor symbols give less difficulty, as some of the lines of the first section w ill show#

80# Hart Orane, "General Alas and Theories," included in Horton, on. c i t *. pp. 335-&4. 65 The mlûâ bee show® I t s e l f a t tim es Too mmoh the baked and labeled dough Divided by aeeepted nsiltltudee, jLoxea# the #tasked partitions of the day** Âoross the msmoraade, baseball sooree, The etenegraphle smiles and stosk quotations amutty alni^ flash eat eguivooations# The mind i s brushed by sparrow singe; Numbers, rebuffed by asp h alt, srowd The margins of the ddy, aeoent the eurbe, Gonvoying divers dawns on every earner To druggist, barber and tabaaoenist* until the graduate apeeitlee of evening Take thwa away as suddenly to v,hemevhere Virginal perhaps, less fragmsmtary, eoel, Rare the mind, "divided" or aoattered into fragments by the many little things that make up a business day, is brushed oocaslonally by flashes of imsglnation ("sparrow wings"), until the evwlng eomes to take away the druggist, barber, and tobaooonlst—the petty busiiBss...-people—to a plase, perhaps in the eountry, whieh has more unity, is "less fragmsmtary*"

those unwsted by the love of thlites irre e o n o lle b le *». If these lines serve no other purpose, they are an affirmation of the duality that Orane constantly feels*- he is twisted by a love of things Irreconcilable, here probably first of all by his love for the beauty of nature, and beau­ ty in tha abstract, and the feeling he has for the power, for the spirit, of modem oivlll%atlon» But he continus# to tr y to reconcile these things, and tr ie s to evoke beauty. to find Im oomethlng ohosa oxiatwoe le at th# omter of modern elvilizatlon—the atreetear. And yet, anppoae aome evening I forgot Th# far# and tr#n#fer, yet got by that may Without reeall—•lost yet poised In traffle* Then I might find your aye# aero as an aisle, S till fllekering #1 th those préfiguration#** Prodigal, yet uneont##t#d nom, B#lf*rlant before the jerky mlndom frame# There 1# some may, I think, to toueh Those hands of your# that eonnt th# night# Stippled mltb pink and green advert! ament#* And nom, before it# arterie# turn daik, I mould have you meet this bartered blood# Imninant in hie dream, none better know# % e a h lte mafer oh##k of love, o r o ffe rs mord# Lightly as moonlight

61* George K# Anderson and Ida Lou Walton, This Oener* ationi A Selection of British and American Literature from 1#14 to'*"t!5rW®8ent wit‘E "É1 sYorical' and C ritic a l :^saays* p* In Glevelamd and not Hew Teik at the time he wrote the poem#^* fnrthermore* Orane did not think of himself as "modem, selentlfie man," so much as the poet and the poetie spirit of a ll times, the mediator between past and present, Bslen and the olty, and in Mias Walton’s interpretation there is a eon fuel on of the terms "modem mm” and th e "poet*" Of eonrse, as stated before, one of the baelo dualisms in Orane was th a t he f e l t th a t the ollmate o f modern c iv iliz a tio n was onspapathetlo to the poet, and at the same time he f e l t him­ self to be in e sense the poet and prophet of the machine age* In one essay he wrote that The funetion of poetry in a Madhim Age is identleal to its funetion in any other age; end its capacities for presenting the most complete synthesis of human values remain e s s e n tia lly immme from any of the so -called in ­ roads of science. The emotional stimulus of machinery is on an entirely different psychic plane from that of poetry# le went on to state that while poetry oan absorb the machine, the machine does not have the power to basically alter poetry* In the light of all this, it is of course possible that there was some cmfusion In Crane's mind, despite his stated inten­ tion, about what his symbols really repzesmted.

6S# He fin ish ed the poem in Jenuary, 1923, and moved to Hew York In March o f th a t year. See Brom Weber, Hart Craneî A Biographical and C ritical Wtudy. pp, 179, 195* 63. Hart Crane, "Modem Poetry," The Collected Poems of Hart Crane# p. 177, 70 The seeoaâ seotioa of the poem pictures **ths Dioayalan revel a" of Helen's court traasferreâ to a ’'Metropolitan roof garden with a jazz orchestra#* Weber writes of this section# The poet returns im Tart II from the supernal worlds the "plane* on nhioh abstract beauty can be ezper* ieneed, to the "quotidian* world of twentieth-century life* Beauty is now seen in its earthly form, the low* est manifestation of its perfection# The poet reacts to it with lust, the antithesis of the devotion expressed in Pert 1*64 A glance at the lines will show that this is true—here the other side of the poet's dual nature is seen in the brazen fall of beauty to static sterility# Bremen hypnotics glitter here; Glee shifts from foot to foot; Magnetic to their tremolo, This crashing opera bouffe, Blest exoursiont this ricochet From roof to roof* Know, Olympians, we are breathless While nigger cupids scour the stars* A thousand light shrugs balance us Through snarling hails of melody# White shadows slip across the floor Splayed like cards from a loose hand; Rhythmic ellipses lead into centers U ntil somewhere a ro o ste r banters# Greet naïvely-*yet intrepidly New soothlngs, new amazements That comets Introduce at every turn— And you may f a l l downstairs with me With perfect grace and equanimity# Or, plaintively scud past shores Where, by strange harmonic laws All relatives, serene and cool, sit rocked in patent armchair a#

54. Weber, ojr, oit#, p. 182# T1 Of I here kmow metallic paradise# Where euckoos clucked to fine be# Above the deft catastrophe# of drum## While titter# hailed the green# of death Beneath gyrating awnings I have seen The incunabula of th e divine grotesque* This music has a reassuring way. The siren of the springs of guilty song**» Let us take bar on the incandescent wax Striated with nuances, nervosities That we are heir to; she is still so young üs cannot frown upon her as she smiles, Dipping here in this cultivated storm Among allm skaters of the gardened skies* The major symholian is In Qie poem as a whole more than in any particular line or lines# Here beauty Is degraded in the jae# tei#o of the modern age, in much the sms way that it had been degraded in the time of Helen, This theme is re­ peated in the poet*# wanting the «Olympians* to know that «we* (in the sense of modern man) have the same kinds of experiences that they had, shlle the «nigger cuplds" (Negro dance band) playr the aoccmpaniment# Melody is no longer beaut 4 "ttl| but «snarling;* looseness and abandon are in the line "Splayed like cards from a loose hand;" the degradation of beauty ("falling downstairs") is, however, accepted "with perfect gface and equanimity" because the modern world, in its blatant materialism, is unable to feel the tragedy of that fell# In the fourth stanza there seems to be a contrast be­ tween the melody ("cuckoos and finches"), which is pleasant ("paradise"), and the rhythm, vhich is not ("deft catastrophes of drums"). And as death loses its digplty, the "divine" 72 ^abstract beauty) beeomes grotesque# But the poet is re - eoaelled to it—"This lauslo has a reassuring way," In the final stanza Eelon has besone a siren it am the poet desires, but sonoem lng whoa he fe els g u ilt; he cannot, however, bring him self to frown upon her in her degradation# Weber has noted th e dualism expressed in th is seotlon in this way* The "I" in this section performs in two roles# As poet, he observes the desecration of beauty by modem man# As modem man, he is the ravish©r and defamer of beauty# This conflict between desire end understanding is the high point of the section, for wantonness leads to "metallic paradises" and "the divine grotesque#"6S This correlates with the statement made earlier concerning Orane's feeling about modem America end his position in America* Although he finds mu# that is hopeless and unsym­ pathetic in the industrial age, be must recognize that he is a part of it# One of the ehlef points of this section seems to be, then, that this modern blase attitude, which makes modem man unable to appreciate absolute beauty, or # feel true rsmerae over the degradation of beauty, is not really new, but one aspect of an ancient duality—the process of life by which love turns to lust, warmth to cold, creativity to decay, civilization to corruption# The industrial or factory system is only the form that this old antithesis takes in the modern a?e# But in the age of Helen, too, the fall of

65# Weber, lo o ,o it. n the queen cÇ beauty from virtue brought about an unholy war a and the siege of the "White City” of Troy, from ehleh only flame, dee true ti on, death (the burning of the eity) eould deliver her, "%e eventual flame" mentioned in the last part of th e f i r s t see tio n , tW n, is the same symbol of public dee* truotion that Grane employed in "Possessions" as a means of cleansing, purifying the lustful dty, Saving shown the fall of beauty in the second section, he must finally achieve the catharsis, the cleansing away of guilt and degradation, the renewal which come# through death. The form whleh this catharsis takes is death in the flame and destruction of the f i r s t World war. The cleansing and renewal e re shown in section three. Gapped a r b ite r of beauty in th is s tr e e t That narrows darkly into motor dawn,** You, here beside me, d e lic a te ambassador Of intricate slain numbers that arise In whispers, naked of steel; relig io u s gunman; Iho faithfully, yourself, will fall too soon, And in other ways than às-thè w in d 'se ttle s On the sixteen Üirifty bridges of the city* Dst us unbind our thm ats of fear and pity. The "delicate ambassador," the "religious gunman," Is evident* ly a representative or j^rtieular soldier who has survived the war and is beside the poet in the street that "narrows darkly into motor dawn," Street may be a symbol of the city end what it means to the poet, and it is reaching forbodingly into motor dawn**even dam is affected by the machine age, "TM 74 Imteloate slain that arise in ahiapêra" may ba tiio paata af other time# ("naked of steel"), eboae voices come into the indnatrial age

56, Another explanation of these first stanzas of Part III, interesting both in itself and because it reveals how subject poetry of this sort is to varied interpretations, i s given by Miss Walton; MOW in section three he COran^ addresses his coapanion, Gorham Munson, a conservative c r i t i c w ith whom Grane was the buralBg of Troy# leloa womt home to Groooe# restored to her rightful plaee. The final three mtanaaa are am afflim - ttoB of this hopeful rebirth* A goose, tobaooo aad oologme*# ThroO"e#imgo6 amd gold*ehod proyhooies of hoavem# The lavish heart shall aloe y# have to leaven , Amd spread eith belle and voleee# and atone The abating shadows of our ooneerlpt dust* This Stanza moat mean that the "goose, tobaooo, end oologne" are the "three winged" and "goldf'Shod" prophesies of heaven* "Three elnged" may refer to tie three things ehieh make po#** eible the leavening* the goose qnlll or pen as the sys&ol of poetry, tobaooo or smoking as a symbol of sensual pleasure,

staying* "Gapped a rb ite r" i s a d ire s t referenoe to the aoademie sap# typical of such scholars* The critic is pictured as shooting down other writers as be hisweif will in time be, figuratively speaking, killed. He is the religious gunmm who arrives home at dawn with the poet* He is called religious because he, aw a humanist, slays for what he considers an ideal the less moralistic poets of the younger generation# Anderson and bel ton, #,* oit* * p, iOE* This explanation, although it certainly may have validity in that the stanzas may refer to the poets of the younger gener* atio n being "shot d©wn"*-severely mocked—by the more conser* vative older critics, loses much of its acceptability by being applied to Munson, Munson was a warn friend cC Grace from the time they met# and i t was M who was v is itin g Grane a t the time Grane was writing pert of the poem# (GeenorEon, Op. c i t .. p* ISSU. furtherm ore, Munson, fa r from being a eon** serv e tiv e c r it i c , was one who was in f u l l sympathy w ith the newest ideas concerning poetry and art# and was an editor of Secession, one of tbs most radical (from the point of view of e#ToftW little magazines of the time, Although a contre* versy did arise among the younger writers of the period, in which both Grane and Munson were involved, it oceured over a year a f te r the completion of th is poem* See Weber, op.# d t *. pp, 8l5*d5. n and oolAga# as a syisbol of aestbetio aajeymmt* With #@a# thimg# the * lavish heart* of the poet w ill have to light** life always—that has beam the faaetioa of warmth, love sM emotiom as expressed by posts throughout history, and it shall be their fun*tion is the futurs# "Bolls" seem to be a sya* bol of unity with Orme, and "voioes" may mom the voies of poetry atoning for the ehadoes or sorrows of earthly exist- ease# The follow ing stanza shows how the renewal may be aeeomplishsd# Anohises* navel, dripping of tbs sea,— The hands Erasmus dipped in the gleaming tid e s, father the voltage of blown blood and vine; Delve upward fo r the new and seat tore d wine, 0 brother-thief of time, that we reeall# Laugh out the meager penanee o f th e ir days who dare not share with us the breath released, The sub Stan OS drilled and spent beyond repair For golden, or th e shadow of gold hair* Miss Walton sheds some light on Grane*# use of olassiaal and historioal referenoe in the first two linesi Anehlses, the fa th e r of Aeneas by Tenus* He was c a rrie d from burning Troy out into the sea m his son's shoulders# Grant uses the reference as an indioation of the glory of Greek civilization carried into Heme* Erasmus, Dutch philosopher and scholar Cld6dt-iB5S)#^ Grant uses him as a figure to symbolize the beginning of the Renaissance* He was one of the scholars who crossed the sea and brought culture to Ea gland# In other words, both Anehlses and Erasmus symbolize the spread of art into new fields • Anchises and Erasmus, then, fathered the "voltage" (power) of the "blown" (scattered) "blood and vins"—symbols of life and

67* Anderson and Walton, op, oit.. p * .605*. 78 warmth, ànd here, art# Th# next llîiôs are a challeag© to him- self as poet to sear# for the aaettered (spattered by the im» pact of the modern age) and new (newly afflmeSI wine—symbol of warmth, of Helen (lore and beauty), md perhaps here of art, si mo a art and wine are traditionally linked—"that we reoall"—the poetlo tradltlcm la s till remembered and een fee renewed# The last lines of the stanea are a moeking of those who are afraid to make this affirmation, "The breath re­ leased" and "the subatanee spent" may fee referemeea to the release found In the writing of poetry, and this affirmation is made for love, If "gold hair" la, as it seems to fee, a sym­ bol of iQ^# "Gold" looks backward, too, to "gold-shod" in the previous atsn&a# Those "who dare net Share," ©to#, may fee a referenoe to T# S# l l l o t i whose "Waste Land" was pub 11 «bed in Kovemfeer, 1928, about three months before Orme finished "Faustua end Helen," What Orme wrote concerning Eliot's work would seem to bear this out. There is no one writing In English who can eomaand so mneh respect, to my mind, as Eliot. However, I take lllot as a point of departure towards an almost ecaplets re­ verse of direction# Sis pessimism is amply justified, in his own case. But I would apply as much of his erudition and technique as I can absorb and assemble towards a more osltlve, or# , ♦ ecstatic goal# . , I feel that Eliot Îgnores certain spiritual evmts and possibilities as real and powerful now as, say, in the time of Blake, Cer­ tainly the man has dug the ground and buried hope as deep and direfully as it can ever be done, , . $ After this perfection of death—nothing is possible in motion but a resurrection of some kind. Or else, as everyone persist# T9 Im Mmouaoing im the deep and dirgeful Dial, the fruit# of elvHiz#tioB are emtlrely harvested, * , , Row la the time for humor, and the Deaee of Death; All I kmo# through very much suffering add dullness, , * is that It interests me to still affirm eartain things* That #111 be the persisting thgme of the last part of as it has bean a ll along,®® In the light of this statement "*the meager penanoe of their days" would seem almost eertalnly to apply to llio t and the other poets of negation* D is tln s tly p ra ise the years, whose v o la tile Blamed bleeding hm ds extend and thresh th e height the imagination spans beyond despair, Outpeeing bargain, vooable and prayer*** These eoneluMng lines of fart III praise both the traditional years of poetry, and the years of the future, whleh, though they may be mounded (bleeding) by Indifferenee, still reeeh for the heights, %ie poetio Imsgimticm oan span beyond despair to the height of hope, outpSolng bargain (a oosmmroial symbol and a symbol of oompromlse), vooable (any* thing that oan be said, or meaningless mords,) and even prayer. So the poem ends on a note of positive hope**a si mere belief on Grane*® part that there is a plaoe for poetry, and that all the elemsmts of life, diverse as they are, oan be synthesised through a thorough purging of the spirit of man, and that this synthesis mill result In a re-evaluation of the

66, Quoted by Horton, o£* a i t .* pp, 181*86# 69. Hart Grane, ^ PP* 93-99, 80 position of art and poetry in the lives of men# It was in tbls mood and with, this belief that Crane oomeelved The Srldjea# whleh was to lin k modern l i f e w ith absolute truth# even as •for the Marriage of Fauatus end Heleh^ was an attempt to link modern erperlenea with the olassle eomwptlon of beauty. The mood of dl # 0 0 uragemen t, of pesai ml em^ refleeted in some of th# •Voyages* and the later seetlone of The Bridge# was to some later# OBAPTSa IV ,

FRO* TO ^

The gjmbols whose use by Orem# has beam emmlmeê Im save m l of the poem# im ladta Bulldlmma poiat to aoma basia dualism# lyimg bamaath the thamaa about atiieh he wrote* The them# of aaldmaaa, allanatioa, or aaparatlorn, aymballaad by the mo am, *item aaa, and city, mala saa^ Images, winter, iea, snow, e te rn ity , and s t e r i l i t y , aaams to mean aavaral things to Orana# It stands for the indif fa ranee of modern civilisa* tioa—eivillsatlon in the sense of the Ms#lna Ag#**to the position of the poet, and all that the poet stands fori oui* tura, fine feelings, love, beauty, kindness m i warmth* I t stsmde for the @old ratlomallty of the Intel 1#at separated from love and amotiom* I t seems to represent the power o f Im t, Shiah is sold and sterile, lacking the warmth of feel* Ing and trust that eharaetarises love. It is the city bereft of beauty; it is that shieh is f roman or metal He, fixed and unmoving# finally, it #tends for the finality of death* %e theme of «warmth,* aymbollzed by the sun, noon, blood, wine, redness, Hre, summer, and female sox symbols, also means a number of things to Orme* f i r s t of a l l , of course, it stands for the emotion of love, love which is passionate but not lustful, kind, generous and fertile. And it is life**vigorous, earthy life in blood streaming throu# th# velm# Qt the bo&y amd rivera streaming through the body of the earth, bringing life aa the son brings life. It seems to stand for the fle% of life* birth and death and rebirth* the temporal quality Of life* the marmth and eon* viviality of friendship* optimism and faith is the future* rural %az#th oppoaing eity eoldneee, ^ 1 these dualisms are a t mork in Orane* and he eon» atantly attempts to reeoneile them* He attempts it in sev* oral #ày#»*in a aplritual love* an almost myatieal love for beauty; or in loVe %Aioh overeomes l%mt and so acts as a unifying foree between body and spirit* Sometimes he thinks that it la musio* whioh oan make a harmonie whole of a ll its parts; but moat of all he thinks of it as the sea* whioh eon tains many of Ihe dualisms* it is kind* but it is orual; it is maternal, but it brings death; it has motion* but only within itself; and it unites all these qualities into an all» engulfing ah ole* whioh oan be love, or whioh oan be death* f all his symbols* it Is the sea vhioh seems to grip 6rane most, and it is that aspest of the sea,whioh brings antine- tion*»the swallowing up of the poet im its dark waters, the explosion Whioh brings a finality of death or love or sexual eseape, even as the life-giving sun is exploded in the sea»» whioh predominates in its attraotion for him* There seems to be, espeoially in the "Voyages," a not-so-taeit expression of ooveting this extlnotion, and a definite laming to this 85 more negative aepeet of the duaiiss that poesoeaed Grew# He fought ftgaiast it, however, oonstantly attempting to affirm hie faith la the sod era eorld, and it Whitman* a visloa of the greatness of the Amsriean future, and seeking to find a post* tive plaoe f or himself la that society# His most prodigious e ffo rt to do so was The Brldge# Even as "For the Marriage of îaustus and Helen" was to span the gap between elassie or absolute beauty and modern experience, and to synthesize beauty into modern life. The Bridge was to span and unite many things# It was to unite the great past of America with the present scientific age, and the scientific age with a vision of future greatness, in which the tradition of the past and the machine of the pres* ant should be fused Into a great utopia both of the mind and of real! ty "*"At lanti a, " or Gath ay, in the sense of what Oathay meant to 0olui^ua*«*a premise of greatness and wealth end wls* dom to be found in now horizons* It wss to link the material* iatio world of the mthine age end the world of the spirit, by taking what was beautiful and good In the machine age and making it a part of the world of the spirit as exemplified by poetry* "For," Grace wrote In 1989, "unless poetry can absorb the machine, l*e., acclimatize it as naturally and casually as trees, cattle, galleons, castles and all other humm associations of the past, then poetry has failed of its 64 fu ll 0ôat«ap©rai*y fuàetioa**'^® And mot le a s t im portant, i t was to b* fo r Crano a unifying symbol"## symbol of life in all its manifestations and le^ els ""Streaming, vigorous, positive, earthy life-"»and a symbol of his rsjeotlon of unity #l#i and Immersion in tbs sea and death. As su#, it was a "bridge" whioh would link him with the Ameoriean heritage and future, and aoroas whioh he could walk to find a place in modern society, as a poet and prophet of the modem world# There la an implication, too, that the "bridge" was an eséape—scmething whioh would lift him above the sea to a safe, dry plaoe, where the fearsomeness of the see as it appears in the "Voyages" would not be so close# It is as if he had bam frightened by the sea and scurried back to solid earth. There is throughout Orme*8 work a wavering between these two kinds of syntheses for his dualisms* the broad, panoramic sweep of the future, optimism, utopianism, faith in the American dream, and the sea, am dent, aysterlous, connoting sen, death, and the past# As is known, he personally was unsuccessful in achieving unity with life, and, whether fortunately or unfer* tunetely, Oran® the poet cannot be divorced from Gran® the man.

; St mm70# mm Hart p. Oran®,i??# "Modern Poetry," The C ollected Poems 3 IN a m m

oa# of th# gyoot ottoatago# ia r#»dla$ Th# BrlAte # ft# rm $W#y of the poem# ia White BmlMlmm 1# that the l*Wege of #he 1# mot oaly more omlvereml; It 1# lee# eomoeotreteëp them erltin The BrMee. Oreoe me# writ* leg more 1» the tredltloa of thltmea then la the tretltlo# of RWbeod end the #th«» 8yW>ollBte, end mhile it 1# not the pnrpoee of this peper to enter into eny sore dieeoeoloa of teehniqne tham 1# aeooeeery, it is latereetiag to epeonlete thet# me well ee reeoltlng hie laeplretlea from hhltmen for the oteAent of %e Bridge# Orene employed# to e limited on# tent# %ltma*e method# ead the reeoltent eapeaeloa trlnge e eloA ty to m#my pert# of T%^e Bride# whioh Is seldom foeal la ih ite m ild lm # . Thae Weieolm Cowley %rote# la reviewing The Brl dad e f te r i t wee f in a lly pmhllAed in IfSOi the emhitiooemese of hie earlier wort we# $ho#n pertly la tmok la it# eeewmptlme o f the grand manner# end pertly im it# attempt to ereed more Image# Into eaeh poem*«more eymtole# pereeptioas, and imglieetiome**thaa may few etaaaae eoald hold or eomeey# The r e e a lt Im some oeeee wee a sort of poetio shorthand #ieh ovaa the meet attomtlve readere eoeld maderetend with dlffleelty. In th is eeeomd volome# merely hy mehing th e . poena longer# be hee made them v astly more iatelllglhle#"*

fd# Neloolm Cowley, Prefeoe to Bert Grsne,* Hew aepBhl,if.# n i l (Fehreary*hay, 1##), p. STd# #0 Th# #0»##Kv»4 m# # myth of Am#r%### #hl#h ### to #m#l### #11 ##p#$t# of Amrl##**lt# pomt, %#####%, #W fiAüPo* It# ##11 ##4 It# #ltl##* It# b##oty ##4 It* pMgr#### <*#m# thorn# #m h i# oomorot# #y#hol BroWAy# Brld### ##4 #%p##4#4 It Into # v#hi#l# #hl#h #o%A4 tr#m#p#rt him lot# # joonwy of omplomtl##* # jowmay throo^ tlm #o4 #y###$ to # fl##l omity Of #11 th# 41o#o## olomont# of iwomr* loo, # otopl# of th# ml#4 #m4 of y##llty$ # poeltlo* Broom# It 1# mot # prlmory porpo## of %i#p#p#r to ottompt # oritlol## Of th# otrootor# of Tb# Brl Bo#* Althomgh mo#t orl^ tlo# #### ogro#to th#t thor# or* fl#o# 1# th# otrootur##^^ they Bo mot ###m to b# Im ####m#mt oomoomlmg th# r###om# for th# floo## All## T#to# ho##v#r# m#h## #n lmt#r##tlme oommomt rolotlv# to th# oymhol of th# h lBg# ##4 tb# otrootor# of th# poom ## # *h»lo# # * # thorn Or### ###th # t h i# looBlmg oymhol* th# brlBgo, moolB mot oor«r #11 th# ##t#ri#l of hi# po#m, h# oool# mot oootolm It lroml##lly 1# tko #1###1##1 monmor, Altor# m#t#ly ho ###mrt# It omB otomBom# i t b###### fmBomomtmlly h* Boo# mot omBorotmB It# Th# 14## of brl4g##hlp 1# #m #l#hor»to motophor, # #omtlm#mt#l ommoit loovlmg th# Immor #trm#tor# of th# poom ooofoooB#^* %## tb# oymtol of th# hrl4g#$ thorn, om#u####*f%ü^ (or

Th#80 # Brem b#14of«la® iaotioa# * Th# OollootoB Boom# of Bmrt

T4# ?#t*, op# PB, 414*14, e i (kP#»4K*«m#üe##*#fül la hlm b*$k from th e oo# *B4 It# éeeêly feee&metlem, lato m greet yemtheletle vleleh of W e, to jWeiime ee6 Ite greet herltege ead ite greet fotere, e* eoem thfoe0& the ]^r#eeet end hle eymhol of the yreemt, th# hrtdge*^hi#h elthough mode by the yet Kbd beeetyt Or »ee oreme ebl* to tore ht# beoh *^om the eee ##d emhre#$ th# greet eomtlhwt of *m#rl#e**lte greet etrotthe# of plelh#, Ite ri row, ite eitie# end ite iedeetryt vlt&oot ettmptiog eey doteiled eneiyele of ^ fridge, orne mey eeemine eome of the lin e# o f the poem, end beerleg im mind Oreme*# perpoee, ettempt to d^termiee ehether the eymhoiiem ##lom d im Iho poem# im tHkitb Bmildimme hee beeome rerereed to eey e#em tg or ehetWr thoee eymboie, eed the theme# ohieh they repreeemt, remeim mmehemged# 3&i 1* imtrodeoed by ^froem* To Broohlym Bridge,*" im ehioh Oreme imrekee the bridge ee the eymtol of hi# myth* It erioee ee e yooerfei for##, free, end bringing freedom end emity, #ree ee the eeegoll eohiore# freedom from the eee# Boo memy dweme# Ohill from hie rippling root The eeegeilt# oimg# ehell dip end pivot him, Bhodding ohite rim # of tummlt, hellding h i# Over the ohéimed bey œ tero liberty^

end Thee, eoroee the herbor, #ilver*peoed A# thoegh the eon took etep of thee# yet le ft Bmme motion evw umepemd im thy etrido,** Implioitly thy freedom eteying theei Tot there ie en indioetlom ixneedie tely following that the I M î S « # # f â ë $4 11 ë !# $ I o I I :• O a • » I i *4§ 4M«M AW » # R # t *» i l & s k*# M h w Jw : h # ;g iK ig r* :: A 3 11 m s % # I : ** # S # i;lg g I #* s$4 Ê m4 E 1: I I m» I « ■a # & « e ' # *# 4U 4* I « R # *4 t S m # I 4» * 0 I g # *3 I # i a g <§ I 'S I # i 3 a i i; i i 1 I I * # 9 * I I I !ff ! R «S'** * *» e # K f & A n s # S 2 M #- i w# s . ^ I a I R ? 4»A E *» : * # 4* * i g g ■S 4* 0 w tb# tb##, 7#W,tlmg tb# ###, tb* prmifl##* &*##mlag #oê, #t# me l#*ll##t em#tt#e m ##, âe#e@M Md #f th# omrv##hlp l##d # myth to Crm#*# b elief Im hl# eymbol 1# #ty#me b#r#; hl# fmlth 1# flm thet b# #111 b# ebl# t# #p#et# th# myth, emë la ôolm# eo, e^Al### # brl%# #bl#h #111 ##r%^y hlm to 0#tbmy# "*## Merl##* y#ft I, le the tlelom #M preyer # f Oolmm# bue; ee Ofem# fleet #o###l#e6 lt$ ^Oomqmeet of epeee, ebe##,*^ B# omtUm## th# p##m la th# f#ll##lmg *#?: @#l#mba#* #lll"H4m##l#6g# Isabelle## #lH##Gbel#% fermemd### #lli*#@elA eblp# de# t royal 1 remelmlmg #111, Qalmmbm#^^ Th# p###r #f tb# ##e le e t l l l #tromg la thle poem, hoaever# ## Qalmmbme gemrwye b##b to Spelm, hevlee fommi, ee h# thomght, Oetbey, h# f##l# th# p###ro f tb# ee# t# Aetelm bl# e tlll* Ber# ##### ellmb Imto 6m#k om ylemelag mell# Imelelbl# valve#o f the #em##l#eb#, t#dom# Oreateb #md oreeplm#, troayhlmg ##rrlôor# Tbet f e l l b e# ye#albg to emotber plmm^e# Slowly th# erne## red eerevel drop# light Oao# more beblmd me#*##lt 1# mormlmg there#* 0 Where omr Imdlem eamerlee H e revealed, Tet loot, ell, let th le keel oee Ibetemt yield*

TT# f h lllp Bortom, B ert Grab#* l i f e ga im rlo e a feet, p# It#* 90* Sober, o|(# o it* . p. Sdd, #4 T*t b« b## la tb# l&nd amd palm#, #M praym to do #o a ^ lt# * # #(0 Ma8f# INbri#, e t i H Oa# #blp of thoo# tb u f:Mmt##t ##f# rotwmlag; A@#or# u« throagb thy momtl#*# #g#l#a& hlo*l) Bor* tho dovolopmoof of Grone*# outline ooe b# ##on; too ohlp# (the o llla of loobol end ferdlaamd) kav# beeo deotroyed, but on# %m, Oolumbu#*##"»tbat of !mo#l#dg#**#tlll romalue end ehull romain egminet th# timoloeeu### of tM eee* But th# o#a 1# e toot of tka kuooledg# be bee gaiuod, oM it# unity end duality o t ill oom# througb; For b#r# betooen too oorlde, anotbtr^ bereb# Tbie tblrd, of water» toot# tb# word; , * and latar; 0 Tbou who alo^oat on Tbyealf, apart lib# oaoan atbmart lan#a of death and blrtb, And a ll tb# eddying broatb betwaan do#t eaarob Gruelly with lor# thy parubl# of man#^ But fin ally Oolumbu# ( and tb# poet)fool tbat tb#y bar# or#r* eon# tb# poear of tb# ###» and through knoelodg# and faith bar# or#r#o## m&p#r#tititm and fear» a# tb# po#t loOka to part II, PoMihtmta#, tb# #artb«#otb#r, th@ poaitir# oyaAol of life* tblte to il of be#ran*a eordona, mu#taring In holy rluf# all eaila #barg#d to tb# far buabed f^lewlng fi#ldm.&nd pendant eeathlng wheat Of knowladg#,— * ,

79 # S«#a intareating eonpariaona em b# mad# b#tw#en tbi# poM& and ^hitmen*L *fray#r of GoluW»u#.* see Walt Wblt^ man, L#av## of Graaa. pp, 478 *74 # |S - P»rt II# *y%boll&»# *T&« *1 body of Amerlo## fertility# Im e letter to tttA KWm# art«p#trom eho #a# eabeidltimr Orm# eh ll > he erote Th# M W # # ret# : ?#ehmt#m*# daoghter# or fooahomtmB# 1$ th$ aythologiool B#tur#*#ymhol êhoaen to r«pr##omt th# i^yoloal body of the eoBtimemt, or th# o o ll. &bo her# take# oh mwh th# #w% ml# ea th* tredltiomol kerth# of ehoiemt Tootomio mythology# The flv# muh-oootiom# of r#rt II er# aeimly ooeoomod oltb # rradwl oeploroUoh of tki# *"body* %hoeo Mret pweoooor eee the Ihdleh#^ E# eleo #*plelh#d th# merglhel mote# that oeoor from timo to time Ih Pert II# The lovoMeotlf (im Iteliomf oerriee eloh- e eymb11m of the lif e end ego# of mem (hero the eooih' of the ##ed) ohloh 1# further developed im eeoh of the eubeequmt eeotiome of Poehetem#* Deu#ter, thowh it i# mover perti#%üL#rly etreeeed# Im & (Tw* %imkle) it ie (Biild* hood# im 9 it ie Youth# im 4, aemhood# im 6 it i# Ago# Thi# motif i# imtereovem emd temde to be im glieit im the imegofy rether than emyehere etree#ed#% The queetiom that erieee, t em# im regard to Pert II, i# thie# %ee Oreme eble to eeoept the greet body of the Amerieem eom# timmt, emd take fro# i t , e# &hitmem bed, Imepiretiom fnm ite peet, belief im ite preeemt, emd feith im it* future? It ie im "Poehetem*@ Daughter* that Orem# 1* prohebly meet eueoeeeful im pioturim^ the eermth, the vibremoe, the

80# Bert Grene, ^letter to Otto lehm," imoluded im Bortom, o it# . Appemdim I I I , pp# 355»9d#

81# jMl* p. r^sy# puimetltfx lif e that le Amerle»*# eed bee heea Amerlea*# throügbOAt h r hletery* ja^peelelly *h#n le %rltle«; of rwel Âmrlee, «Ith Ite hroed expemeee of prelrlee, of moem* W lhe* of flolo# eoO river*, ioe*he here Im hl:* myth# Bot *h«m be ettompte to eyntheele# mil of jwaerloen llf#«w.the olty eltb tb* ooumtry, th# pa^t %lth tb# preeent, beeuty e ltb meohenlKei olTlll%etl

83. IbM . 34. Bor ton, aji_, oit.. p. 833. tb# jumbl# of Hf# todoy* * , . wa mekos tlm* like #n(t the Bor.GKoar x,,:v:c i r h ij. ^ L_^v,. \i .. u;jT:i^3T vi.iUKPi ni iHj/Ui*. T^K z oa I : - u * VEÎ: aONblng hrook# oonmeetlng #*re &Bd BO mere aermoa# «lAdo*# fl#*hlae roar Breathtaklmg«*ae you Ilk# It* . # eh? But th# tr iR #p##A# by, leaklnr three tranp# oa tb* traeke, %ho beeom# lâaBtlfled both %ltk th# ploaeare aed eltb th# poet, #11 of have eaqplore* the eoetiReot, an# k#v# kaeee It latlmetely# Th# tra#p# **# * # #r# peyehologleel vehlelee, *l#o* Their *#B##rlnge , # * eerry th# reader lot# Interior efter Interior, #11 of it funneled by th# Mieele* elppl* They are the left»ov#re of the pioneer# # * emd here er# th# f lr e t Imtlmetiom* of the beeoty end ^read ettreotlom of the eomtlmemt, or Pooehomtae, Yet they tooeh eomethimg Ilk# # key perhape, From pole to pole e#ree# th# h llle , th# etete#

They lork eoroee her, kBoelme h^r yonder breeet Snoeh'ellrered, eum#o*#telned or mmoky blae»* 1# poet th# r#ll#y*#le#p#r*, eonth or meet, A# I here trod the rmorooe mldml^te, too# It le here, eleo, that flret eppecr the ey%bole, repeated In "The Danoe" and fin ally In "Atlnntl#," of time end epeoo ebiOb th# ooBtinent0nbr##e#»»th# aerpent and the eagle#

@5# Eart Orane, "Letter to Otto Kahn," Ineloded In Hont

$d, m & L 101 It b# that Oramo took th# m#a# keota"*, 08 the mme for his Imdloo brave from a eab«»arlver ehom he kmea 1» Re* York City ahoee middle name aaa Maquokeeta» amd #ho am# part Imdlmm* Re told Ormne that the nme me ant *big river*'*^^ It 1# # i# ifie a n t too, tbet even aa Oran# heeoma# identified eith the Indian brave, be aak# him, "He to me," m# if even in hi# deeire to return to "tribal morn," he r#»lieea that it ie a falee de#ire-*the nor Id of the t«en» tieth eeatury reaehee him, and la too atroag la him, 5at he make# the attempt, although he meat we travel book Into the preeent, aeeing on hi# i^oamey the death of the Indian, and the death of the love of the Indian and Poeahontaa, hie bride* There i# an Indieatlon here again of the ehangiog quality of time* 0 like the linard in the furion# noon. That dr<^a hie leg# and eolore in the eon, *»And lau^ha, pore aerpent. Time it#olf& and moon Cf hie oeh fate, I aa# thy ehange begun# And aa# thee dive to kle# that deetlny lik e one ehlte meteor, aaoroeaaot and blent At laat alth a ll that*# oonaommate and free There, vhere the fir st md laat god# keep thy tent, But Poeahontae live# on* lo , through ehat infinite #oeaona doat thou gaae"* Aoroee i&at bivouaea of thin angered 9 la in, And eee'at thy bride iamortel in the maiae* and the aw, reneeing aprlng, a till has power to awaken her.

# # Weber, o£, alt,, p* @07, 10# to brlRf lif e omA out of the oold of eiotop# El

80* Bert Crane, "Letter to Otto Kahn," Ineluded in morton, Ail*# P# 3®# 10$ preirl* mother, 1$ ae#ll@lbl#-*&nd pwhep# it# migAlflamm##lie# 1# the feet that the eee, »be oouli be idemtlfled with the poet, i# to eee, #lth ell that that meeaa* leael&g the land, the prairie mother, meeb aa a!* moeld lik e to hold hlat, aad turaiag to the eee and a ll i t ayeAellaea for Grama# Im a broad a^ee the i)oe# eoüld be Imterpratad a# a turmimg away from lif e (the earth amd the mother#«aomreea of lif e ) to death (the eea)* Gome baek to Imdiam##"Heot too latei (Gr mill you be a ranger to the emdt) Good-bye,»#Good*bye#*eh& I «hall aleaye emit Tern, lerry# traveller#» étranger, eem, frlemd*- Part 111, ^Omtty Sark,'" 1# "%phamtaey am the period of the »balere end ellpperebipe#*^ Bare tw poet, bar lag emolorad the turn# to an em^loraticm (f the e a im hie joermey through time end mpaee, *M here, too, he begin# im t? a preaant %nd travel# wekaard throu# time* Getty Sark i# arranged on the plan of a f^gue# Tee veieee#»that of the eorld Time, And that of the eorld Of &tarmity"M#re imtereoven im the &otiom* The ^tlamti# them# (Stemity, or the Abaolute) ie the tranemoted voiee of the miekel*lm4,the"#lot plemo, end thi# voie# eltermetee eith that of the derellet #allorand the deeeriptlom of the aetiom* It i# into thie Abeolute that the finale to the eWle poem (Atlamtle) projeete at the eloae of the book*»l

Ih ld . 104 *#### 1# & W f Im Somth The p o et'e aomp&nlom 1# a fw#0mk#6 aid aailar %A0 omryla# him b#@k throu^ aamory amd a ham# of ala@bolla#'#*autty ie a bmand of to a T leiw of tha graat day& of tha paat lAoa malllmg ablp# »#ra Im tha haight of thalr glory# amd %hallmg *»& a thril- iimg ooaopatiom: *&r#ora of laiylatham ha apo&a# amd rwa aaa Plato im omr haada*#, amd aa tbay ara talkimg# tha miakal#lm*th$*alot piamo play# "StwNhowl Right##" brimgimg am am Imklimg of tha ai adorn of Atlamtia# or atermal troth; 1 mur-Azmai mmaa im mwi: Thar# aaom# to ba aa#a aamfmaitm im Oram#*# mimd# or at laaat a aomtradiotiom ariaing oat of hia dual mm tara, aomaarmlt# tha aomoapt of time* I t haa baam motad that Im ^ it a Bolldlmaa. and im auOb poama aa "Tha Rivar" amd "Tha Damoa#" th# taagwral qoallty of U fa aaa to Orama a plaaaamt tblmg# amd tha Idaa of tlmalaaamaaa# im th# aamaa of atarmity# aaa a#» «oalatad #ith a ll tha other aymbola of aoldmaae emd aapara* tiom# Add yat ha may# that Atlamtla aigmlfiaa atarmity# w tha Abaolata# amd that "dotty Sark" i# ao arwagad that tha roiaaa of tha iworld of Tima amd tha i%orld of gtarmity are imtor%oaam imto th# aotiom# Tha %hola aomaapt of %ha SridA#

08* Bortom# pit*, p# dhd# 105 tom# om tk# Qf time Bd *ltb the gml »f truth# Y#t here# th# old ##omn aaym:

I 0$m^t to k##^ tlm# and ##t over lt»*I*m m D«eoor#t^*I t#o# #h#t tim# It l#*^*o I ##h*t *#mt to kmo# #h#t tlm# It lo—that 6#mm#5 #hlt# Arotl# killed my time##*" Sere #g#lm the id## of mo tlm# 1# ##*o#i#t#d %lth th# eymhol# of #hit*&o#e end oold for Oreo## Aod lmm#di#t#ly folloolog th##e llmo# #omee lo omo# egmio th# volo# of #t#roltyi 1 a t# # o o l kgA%%r»

#0 that Orèo#*# ooooopt of time r#m#lo# eoofoood# Th# ptOLl of th# ### i# otrom# lo thl# ##otloo$ tb# old s; llo r ##y#* **0 Ilf#*# a i^*y##r—b##utiful-4##y luo#»#* ##B*t iiv* #m l»od*«$* At doom th# old ##llor amd tbs poet l##v# th# her, th# ##1# lor to retur# to hi# eblp, hi# "liberty* oo lead over# «"*h# loagod op Booory ##y «^11# the deem erne pottlmg tb* @t#to# of liberty oot»*tb#t torob of her# yoo kmoe— Amd tb# poet #t#rt# eelklmg bom# eoroeaBrldgre, the hi# heed fille d eith dreom# of tb# yeet ^glorlee fbd roman## #md beauty of tb# day# of olipper ebipe, trad# elth tb# orlemt# emd early #om<%###t of th# #*## fart IV# "Cep# Ratter*##"eee oomeelvad a# an ode to Whitman# eho ayiAoli### th# eplrltual body of Amerlw* Bavin* emplorad the phyeieal body of tha oomtln#nt im "Poehathnlh Daughter#* and the ### In "Cmtty ^;#tk#" Crane nee return# to th# paet and eork# into tb# preaemt# aiplorlng #pee# and 106 the mlr, end xdiovlaR «en*# eonquaet of the air by oae of hia me^ime#»#the mlrplaaa# The air#e«ms torepreeemt the eplrltual body of Amarloa, and the poet t&kae 46# hand of «hitman im order to eaplore I t , for whitman eae th# prophet of the maohlne age and the ehaaplon of eolmoe# for thla poem, a# for "Av# i&rla," Oran# prepared an outline of th# theme# tobe treated# (1) dap##.land^eombuetlo# eemelee# ee a giant tmpnimg (6) Beeerhone# N) SS5B E % ltty EeW# Tame Off (4) war"^im generei (5) Reeolntion (Khltman)^ The poet*# etez^g point on thl# joerney la the land^^^e eee# the eeoletlom of the eape (Betterme) near ehieh the A ret airplane eee floen, and he Irnok»# Whitman aa the alnger of the greatnea# and beauty of the li«nd# Or to reed you,^ mit,##knoeing n# in thrall To that deep eonderment, onr native elay %hoae depth of red, eternal fleah of Peeahontea*# Thoae em ttnental folded aeomm, eureimrged slth eemetnee# belee derrleka, ehimneye. tarage—' I# veined by all that time ha# really pledged ua*## The poet, s till In the preaent, eee# hoe man has eonqwered #peee, but he al#o eee# he# men*# ewqueat of a pee# ha# eon# quered man, #o that in eeeklng freedom h# he# lost It#

W# Weber, £g* alt*, p# 946, Nü# th# ###1# domlmt*# w r Acy## Is ju r is t Of th# amhlgtiAu# #io#A$ %» k#o# the strlOsm t m l# Of #i##s lmp#rlo*#*»*

Of##m om##l# Of### 1# thl# ### r##lm #f f##t ffom #&i#b *# ##k# iot# tb# 8» m* #f ##t$ S##lmg h l###lf #e # t#* tm # «ArosO»# M#m b##f« hlm##lf *o #%%!## im # sl#m4# Or#m# i« t# 1#»# fmitk 1* hi# myth# Th# y###mt h#» m#t 11##0 mjp t# th# Or#### # f th# »t# %hit##m*# ti# l( * h#s* im # #####, h##m b#tr*y#4* hot h# plmm### #m, hopim# th#t th# mnirit of thlt##m m ill omtiiv# th# sordWm### of tb# #ow#r#i#l oorld* @ o$omt#r#r on fr#o #sy# « till #h##0* Rot %i* nor omplr# yot# hot ImhyriBth th#r#im yoar #y##, Ilk# tb# Or##t Nstlgmtap*# mithont ShlR Gloom fro# th# gr*#t otomos of ###h prisam orypt Of omaremed tr#ffl###*Owifr%ltm#o did, that daapite any ##n##looa affort to hmlld a draam of a <^r##t, poaitlva, aoeial utopia, th# a&ll im tb# imdlvidmal # o oould mot, am# dameath It all, raaomoil# hi###lf to that otopia, aho ooWL# mot adjmat hiaaolf to lira in that kind of a aorld, #aa al# may# tha mail of th# #ao»"am% daath# imd ahil# thitmam had IW

*mwb## hommalWfi*» $ ##atuTÿ m#wb### #»####$ yo% # pr9gr»wm of #*4 ^ $ * r$

1 ##o#pt rooljlty,# 0 6 a#r# mot que#tloo It) M#teri#ll#m flrot #ma l#et tmtmimg* Bmr»#h for lorn? ilv # #m##t_4#*om#

offlmlmK hi# to llo f im kmmml#4$# emd #ml#m## moû t*mt& *# th# ##lv#tl#m o f mmmkimA, amO th# thremhold to m fgp##t oorl# #$éi##teé to th# #%4rlt of brmm# livlmg *md trmth, h# Im# #l#o mrittmn# T%#r#to #m#*#rlBR, th# ###, D#)#ylm^ mot* hmr]qrim# mot, %hl»p#y*# ## tb roo# tb# m%ht, #m# v#ry plmlmly h#f#f# d#yhr##k, limp*# to m# th# lorn mm# dmiimioom #6r# DMTB# Eimmln^ mmloiioma, m#ith«r ilk # th# bir#, mor ilk# my mromm'd mhil#*# hmmrt, M t mdgimg m##r, mm p*immt#ly for am, ro#tll%w mt my fo o t, Or##plmg thmo# mtmadllp mp to my mmr#» mm# Immimg m# moftly mil ovmr. Pmmth# Domth, Dorn#, Dmmth, Dmoth* mm#*

 i s m s à i

94# tmit "StmrtimF from fmNmmmok,* !##### of Qrmmm p^ IT# $0# thitmmm# ^ I t thltmmm*" ill* # PM ##* Wbitmom# "Omt of th@ Ormdl# mdlmmrnly aomkim##* ai&f# P# 10»

%&!$#### too# ##* 6 p##t #f tom b#t###m hi# mr*#» 4#m##mtl# vlolom* hi# l#v# #f Ilf# #ma of momkimi# #m4 # otromg poll to##M th# ### wA A##$h* homo# Drogofy, Im qootlme # #riti#i#m hy ^#lmt#hury of %hltm#m*o l^to # of pr###. Ototo# that it might h# #pproprl#tely opylloA to Of#ao* » » ,th#r# Of# too auhjoot# om ohloh h# 1# ##3# # lo lly oloomoot# ahloh ###m ImAo#» to Imtoxloot# omd lm#pimo h i# th# mteomt h# #ppfo#Wko# thorn# The## or# D#o^ omA th# #0* # # # # Im hi# oomm##tl@m of th# too id### (for om# oloey# ###*# to #oa@##t tb* oth#r to him)# o&A Im hi# oyooiol Aovotlom to Booth, h# 1# mor* #in#;ulof,*»» I t 1# prohobl# th a t Or#A# flm ally rooogmlooA th a t th# afflm* Ity botooom hlm3#lf *nd HAltmam ### brooAor than th# mor# ahorlmg of o vlalom of fmt%r# Amorloa, fo r th# older poot# too# ooulA mot fm lly b tlle v # In hi# vlalom, *e Crmo# flm* ally# OoolA mot oholly boliov# In Th# Brld##. Th# nomt #tom%* of **<%#pe S*t%#r##* 1# a # lebratlo* of th# po*Of #f th# m##hlm## b#glm*l%%, **%# mamal ahlm# of p@##r mhlp# a me# %mlv#r##*«#* But althw i# Oram# mrlte## *### vorltl*## *## imkllmga Im th# volrat hwmad#'* th# #ff#*t of the #t#mn* i# mot on# mhl# m#h## th* reador fool * groat lov# of th# maAlmo, for i t employ* amah phr*##* ##*

»?* ï^ltnmm, '*D#ath Oorol,* from *#*m 111**# l*#t In th# Dooryard Bloom*#," ^ oit*. p* STB# »8# Rorao# Orogory amd Mary* &*tmr#n#k*, "Bart Oram a* D#*^ #md th# 3#*r .swapj p« 4&B* 110 * . * hat 1» A# hflfÿbt a# froga* *?#»# la tb# g ifth &f #$##ly gl#*#y##*##%l#*b#aRd$ a e # la # 4 Im rnolW # # (Kmam# m#%t txp#v#l$ hmak Im tlm# t# 6###rlb# tb# flig h t # f th# flrat #lr]pl#a# at % tty H##k*-th# ##m^##t #f apao#* %1# #om<;a##t, hp##v«p, has mot braudbt Af##8am ana p#a#<^ bmt iksr# %# aoul* by maphth* fI#A##i* Into m#% raaahaa# Airaady km### th# aloaar #la#p #f %ar#,«w» #»# latltmd#*. onkmattlmg, ##<% #v# pla## T# lAat flmrn## ##h#4a)##,rlf# #f4#<# apa#é% Thar# fall### a daaamiptlom of *#r# aapaalally air aarfara, am# oma# mor# Oram# twm# to %hltmam to ragaim hi# sislom , am# a hallaf that aftar taath Im %ar (&#ra oomes a rablrth of fa ith : Bat sA# baa h#%# th# height# mor#aar# than thorn* 0 %alt**«A###m#iOB# of tha# hover im me mo# A# thorn at jamatlqma alagiaa* thara# of apaad ith vast atarmity# Aoat ?4#ld the rahoumd aa#41

# # # 0# myaarh from tha doe# Thou hrlmgoat tally# amO a yaat# mao hjomo# Of llvlmg hrotharhoo&t Thar# la h are too a raafflrm atlo h o f fa ith Im hhltmam*# »oalal utopia sma tha brotherhood of mam# hut latar# ha aamaa# a# lm %hltamm*a a fflm lty a lth tha aoa# smd th* dual# Ity Of !%ltm#m*@ yoatry amd him philosophy; Wham first I road thy llmaa, rlfa aa th# loam Of prairlaa# yat Ilka hraakara allff%ard laaplmgi Bat ha must allmg daaparately to thepoaltlva* pamomanle via* m 0f llf# K*# tb*t tb# Wplf#- tlom f# f Th# BrjjLAg## aur *#&#t#r#ibg#r. tb#% ##t br##tb im #t##%# Ami it »a# tb#@ #h# o» tb# b#ü##t bw l 3t##d «p #bd flmm# tb# ##m o# #### #1%# Of tbmt @p##t BriA##,#ur byth* W»#r##f% B# m##t mffiym 1A# vimiom of tb# mthlm# ###, tb# igp##t ^#p«» of #a#:wia####$#* tb#t #111 bri&? 1b* b«# llf#$ ##d bl# 4##p*r* otlom im tb# #ffi%m#tlom i# #vi##mt im th# f lm#l #b#r# h# t##:## tb# bond of %bit*#m* "n###r to lo t go#* Amd mo#### V##t #nglm## o#t##rd ###rl#f!; # itb »w#%ihio ^r### On olmri## #yllnd#r# g### out of »lgbt T# moor## %K#t #p#m o f Oom##ioo#m* # tb#u*#t m###d Tb# Ogom MWfod-^tby vimiom la r##l#lm#di %%#t b#ri%#$# thoo*#t #i##ll#6 to our band##

Y##, b<# Afoot #&#!#; #md mmard uitbout h#lt#»* bot #00## mor #udd#mly#~»B@# m#r#r ta lo t g# b f hmmd im your## huit mitman-.^ ###* Tb# poem i# oprauling# di#or##mi##d# and r#p#tltiou*# It look# th# orgami# tlgbtm#»# #b#r##t#ri#tl# #f th# pw## im '^hlt# Sulldimmi. or #r#m of wob ###tiome of Th# Brld^ ## "A## Kari#** Cran# r##lim#d tb# woRkm### #f tb# pomm# for h# %rob* Tmt# im a f te r reeding Tat#*# ravi## of Tb# Brld##^* The pereoRol mot* i@ doubtleee r##pom#lbl# for v&at pou term ## # mtimemtmllty im my ettltud# toeerd %bitmem* It*» tru# that my rh#p#o6i# eddreas to him in The .prid^e e*###d# #my #%##t erelueti n of tb# mam# I realinedtmtim tb# midet o f eompealtlom# But aim## you and I bold #u#h d irer* 11* g#mt the m$#rt#l# #nd evwte » r### ^ XM#*#4 t* . # $ * th#r# l#m*t mwh %*# 1» mqr th# q##l&rle* yet pef#l#t#«t r***##e I Mv# for e**l*# etiem of him# *m& #y ellegleeq# to th# poeltlv# u»lv#r#»l t##*#m#lo# iN^pllolt la aeerly #11 hi# h##t eork# Y#U*## heer# m# roar »t too momy of hi# lime# to dooht that 1 #00 #ÿot hi# eoret# I** #or##^* la* It 1# Imgporteat to romeetor tw tthl# #*#tl«m ee# #*##$ the leet thet Orea# «rote, 1# 1***, after he he* lo#t tW h rlg h t v ieio a of th# myth$ m ftor ho he* gon# throogrh period# of 6#*p#lr of ever fialehiog Th# arid## #t #11, ##d oft#r h# hed w ltt# o eeeh etetoMwmt# #* (hi# om# la » le t t e r to %#ldo frm h* motlohelly 1 ehoeld like to write the Bndge* Iktell» oetoellp lodged the eholo them# #od projeet eeem# mor# emd more eheerd* # *I hod # * t 1 thooght eere eothemtl# moterlel# thet eould bet# heeh e plee#ofehl#*egooy of ereetllhg, erw&tuetimg or mot 1# perf##tiom,*f*et leeet heiag worthy of the most eopreme effort* I ooold mooter, ?heo# m terlelo %#fe eelld to me to the externt thet I preeomed them to be (ertleolete or met) et leest orgemle end eotlve feetore im th# exporlem^w sod pereeptlooo of ear eommom rooe, time, mad belief# Th# i;#ry Idee of e bridge, of eoor##, 1# e form peeudLlerly dépendent on eoeh eplrltôml eweletlome* It 1# on #et of fmith beeide» being # eomwmloetlon^ The ^rW»ol# of reality m#e#e#ery to ertlm üLete the mey not «wtlet oheiw yw #%p#eted the*», h o eerw . By ehleh I moen thet honorer frreet their eebjeetie# eignlfleeno# to mo is oonoerôed»*th##e feme, mmterlele, dynemloe #r# eimply nob'^exlstent In the world, I mey emoa# end d ell# t end delight #nd flotter » e lf 00 mneh ee I pl#eee*^hut 1 om only eeeding # reeog#^ t tlm end ploying Don ciolnote In on Immorelly om*olm# eey, Th# form of my pom rleee out of o poet that eo over* ehein# the preaent w ith It# eortk and vision th a t l*m # t

9P, footed by Eorton, pit., pp, *88*69* # 1*#* to my t%mt there e»l#t emy reel M»ke hetmeem t&et meet e fmtmr# éeetlmy eert&y of it* Th# *d##timy" le eloee eompletea* poAepe the little Imet eeetiom of my yoem le e hémigover eobo of it#* hot i t heoig* #ü#pem4eë eomeeber# In ether lik e en thgrnlom by hi# h*ir* The bridge e* a #:i^hol today hae mo eigaifi* earn## heyemd a# eeaoomieal approaoh to a h o rte r bowre* teiokar lemehee# hehaeioeriem aod toothpieka* Amd 1###* mueh *e the bridge la a eymbol of all aoeh poetry a# 1 am io te re e te d im eritim g i t ie my preeemt famey th a t a year from me# 1*11 be more eomtemted aorkla# im ao o ffie e them before # * . a l l th ie doee mot meaa th a t I hare reei#ed myeelf to imaetivity* i bridge m ill be »rlttem im eome klxWi of atyle &md fer% at eoret it mill be aomethiog a# good ae advertiaim g eopy# A fter ahloh I m ill hare a t laaat Ame my beat to dieeWkrge my debt to kimd* m e e a # ^ "Qajpe Bat terme" laeke eamiiotiem* amity amd alar Ity* bat do# epite all that* there are eome peaeage# im lAioh Orame live# mp to hie beet eork* *Three domge" ("aoutherm Ore##*""katiomal %imtmf Garden*" "Virgimia") ehieb eomatitute Part f of The Br^dg^ eeem to have l i t t l e orgamie relatitmehip to t^io remt of the poem# Oram# e ro te to 'foldo fremka f te r e r ltla g them* "Tee or three e^ g a have jmet popped omt * * , ehiah eome a f te r *Omtty dark*"#^^^ %hy Orame imtamded to Imelmde them a f te r "Omtty dark" amd vhy he did ImeltMie them after "Cape Batter# ae" ie mot eertaim* %eber he# poimted omt that i f %&e Amarl# earn eombimemt i#beimg explored frwi eeveral differemt amf^e*

100* w>ted from Bortom* jji* pp* 205*d# 101* < ^ ted by %eber* ygi# g I 8«* g: # g § #- y # s 8 g E S Ag I § n \ t g p»I I I I«y *K f I g 3 f-l?; y tf s , l I f * » % # m 11 * He % % n fia I* " & i I & 8k % 3 3 II : % I 8 • ^ § y s # » M SiP M* : 8 m *% s E i Çï* m I 5 « 5 4» g p # -P O # O tr Pg #«» M» * M» i I» K? I À g. g :r M* iiil 9 H"3? B # «♦ #■ y 0 # » 1 S 4 I g 9 E % : o g M * «♦ A$ g g 9 « Ü I S *% % I«#" m r 8 ! ! * # I : » V* m 3* g 0 • m I 1 «* ® «* cy o g s *< I 1 §pm, È» r f W (M*- î I «# g 0 ** I I g 3 * %% 1 # * IP : m m g ^ «o # * & f# : # #d # S g" m g » ** 6 g # «f* «* S a G » o I a g *% A «» ** g g s g «* » S' i gr I f*© o g g 3 H o »» © M i I g § % E * <* *y s m* ; : : : a er A, ta gL O # «* m & : g

109# 4ootod by Borton, on. o lt.. p. 108# I l f Th# i# # $yWbol iBto hell %hleh la #plé lltemtay# (#e#b e# tb# Oemedür) 1# # pr#r#4%l#ite t# ##*#aainp; t# the height# of heovea. It 1# tb# **el&#a#lhg by fire* m##*##ery la oréer to beholA the final bri#it eielom* hell that Ofm* poetray# Im the poem le metropolltam he* tOfh"*th* elty a#lm^ and the elty Im e ll It# horror. It# ugllm###, it# hrutellty, tb# #mllm#$# end meamn*## of th# mlmde of It# people# Qeoelllmg *het Orem# he# eplttea abomt the elty la #cme of the poem# In %hlte BaildlnR:f. erne motleee th a t he find# I t mor# d if f ic u lt In "The Turn el" to eee any-' thlbff pleaeln^ about the olty# 3ut he realize# thet the eub# %ay journey 1# neeeeeary, for tAile It plungt## him to th# depth». It eball al#o lift him ag»lo»#lift him #o that throngh all Of emperlemee he een finally find th# ebeolute, truth'*# and thne it aete a# a foil# a# v*#ber aeye," to the triumph and light of the laat eeetlon (*Atlantle*)#"^^ It la inter* eetlng to w»te thet Grama azote "The Tuamel" In the euaewr of Ipgd, ahem he *a# on the %»1# of Ttae# In the Oarrlbwn# Of Mhe Tunnel" he %rote, "It^e rather ghaetly, almoat eurgery, amd# oddly almoat a ll from the note# and a tl tehee I bare erltten # lle eolnglng on the etrap at late mldnl^te going hoew*"^^ %*en in the midat of beauty# far from the elty, he

lOd# %#ber, oî^# o lt* . p# @7d# 107# noted by Eorton# gp# )* lie qo#14 #ltb d#t#il#6 vlvld Wrror tb$ ##p@9t# of th# #lty i*l#b #3p#ll#e Mm# miemlght tb# p##t #t#rt# bo##^ t#mpt#d to »#ik » b rie f dlmtem## fl##%# but *Tb# ##b##y y##m# tb* c#l*k##t proml#* bom##'* *bd pmttlm^ tb# tam^^tmtlob from Mm, b# #m* t#r#* AVold tb# gl### d##r# gyriag #t y##r rlgbt, bore b#m#d alon# # ####*&, #y## t#b# frig p t *^^alt# #npr#ÿ!ar#d, rm#b *ak#d b##kt# l l bt# Amd domn b##ld# tb# turmmtll# pr### th# coin Imt* tb* #lot* Tb* e#m## #lr##dy r*ttl## Amd tb#r*p #m# Ilk # mm#*#b#d pl* tt# r# rld o l 11# ■» tmd #loft,**gl#Atl#ally &*## frixblng tbrou#;# y»%^»*tù#aN ##* 0 #vemAr#$ Amd %b#n df#g^d yow retAlmg fl##b$ Yomr trmbllm# hamd# that might thrmm# B#ltlm#»#** Thmt 1#*% might m th# hmllmt remmd## did ymm Shmhlm^ did y#m dmy th#tl#k#t# ##$? ?h#r# ere tm# lmf#rpr#t#tl<%g mf the #b@v# pe###g# #hl#h It m lrht h# lmt#r##tlB^? to emmlme fo r pmrp##»# o f #{wm#&rl#om #06 o«mtr$»t* before dremimg #my f la e l ooneioelom# from th# peeeeg# Itmolf» fo r thor# 1# mo dombt # meeeor# of tro th In both* Im hi# »Imtro&motlom* to th# Oollootod Poom#. %#ldo fromk #t#to#$ I f tho roedor imdormtmd# Poo, he #111 umdoretomd th# opgorltlom# df #11 th# #l###lo po#t# of th# nromt tr#»» dltlom Im Amorloo# Po#«*^p«ph#p* th# l###t ## m rtlot*# ##» th# moot odvomood, th# moot prophotlo #e thlmkor# All» ## ## hmv# motod» ##r# o mtomt more^l»## #lth th# moroly tr#m#pl#mt#d torm# of #m ogrorlom ooltore» Omly Po* gm####d th* tromofldmflme o f foot o f th# Kooblm# mpom th# form# of homom life , mpom the very oo«»#pt of th# por#am# Tb# Twmol glvo# m# m*m im hi# lm du#tri#l b o ll #hloh tb# m##lm#^#hl# homd omd h##rt»#h## mod#; mo# lo t th# mooblm# h# hi# dodllk# 90*4 to tgpllft him# Th# plmm* glm# #obw#y oh# 11 morg# mlth th# ooultlmg brld##» mea $1### tb# vloîom; Poo* hooovor ##g%#ly, tb# mmthod#^''^ Wobor* opooklmg of tb# dual mature o f th# oymbol o f Atlomti#» okloh oen be #om#tru#d to roprooomt both tb# Ideal tooerd ohloh mem #tH t#, #md eorruptlem omd i^llvlgm (## #h#ll b# Boted further Im th# dleoueelom of "Atlemtl#**), them polmt# out#

Ida# 3^eldo fromk» "Imtrodmetlom." Tht oolleoted Poem# SC B ort Or###A p$ %%#i* w # * , 0»# earn «o# th# *W#h th# vlelom #f Po# pl*y# 1& ''Th# T#m#l** It I# tm# thet f## ### f ##i#m#, that h# *r#t# "'A D#####t iht# th# Nheletmm#* ant that a#6#»l*k Q»h#f I# fo#*# *t#ry, *Th# y#Il of th# E#### of Wb#f#* p#i#t#4 » plotwr# of # f#»» t##tio tunnol# Wt It t# mor# importoat to roall## that th# Ilmo# %hl#h Ormo# #### Im *Th# Twmol" to #om#r* hi# e ltu e tlo # mlth Po#** ar# r##orh#4 from yo#*# po#m *Th# City Im th# $###" * * » Im that po#m fo# 6#*#rlh#& hi# vlalom Of a olt y of th# éaaO aixAlme Into tb# ##a* It# tooora »md r l ^ a omabi# to pr###rv# It from It# fata# mbil# from a proad tooar 1# tb# to»m / heath look# #1* g a o tlo a lly &##m**Iw Th# Im^lloatioma bar# ar# moltltadlmoo## %b#m It 1# ram### h$r#6 that 1*0## 1th# Gram#, *a# am artlat ohoa# #plrlt am# Im om fllat aAlh hi# tlmaa, amd that# Ilk# Grama, h# ### a poat oho #ar#r#d hotmaam aolaw# amd myatlolam amd triad to #olv# hla problama amd th# problama of tb# omlaara# by aoma rathar olard aornblmatloma of th# too* om# oam par)mp# Imfar that Grama* Im thoa# 11m#*» fait hlmaalf oloaaly ahlm to lo#» amd that f#r him a# for Po# th#r# oaa mo poaalblllty of dmaylm# daath* Thl# Imfaramo# rnomld mah# both hk# olty amd th# to#» mol aymbola of a death that 1# vary raal» amd from oklob tbar# 1# 00 raaloal# aod eomld magat# th# fOro# of th# latar #tam* *a» Im abloh Grama* a f te r raforrlm g to th# mobeay a# a **D#a* mom'* plmogloi^ toaard death* la* lik e lamaroa, reaallad to Ilf# after th# agamy of death* 0 ù#ügkt Ilk# panmle# baoaatk aoot and ateam* %## of oar agomy thoo gathereat* Gomdaoeod* thou tak aat a ll^ - a h r lll $;&mglla

IG#, Weber* gg# JUl'* 5TT*78# 161 #lt& #om# ## A l l to ko#p* A&6 y # t. Ilk# 1*##**#» to f*#l tho #loÿ#$ A# #o& i!>llloe bfo*klmg##«.llftiag groomé* #@mi4 of omtor# boMln;^ ##trl&# tb# #ky with #«## %oM Â#t *111 ootRdl*,#*!

Y#t tbi# *t#o»# 1# mo####mry If tb# #tru#ture«^PMIOTMNp 4 ofNpOTMH 9HMPWlMIRM^ Th# hrld«# 1# to t# mUfl#4 at #11, Ar la ortar to oatob m gllmp## of Atlaatle# tb# ]po#t moot aw# ap fro# thl# hall, rotur# fro# thl# tooth, to flat #0#* klat of beauty omt llA la tb# oorld# #0 Ao# rotwA A #&# proaaat from hi# jourmoy thrAgh momory late tb# poet# A t fl*A hlmaolf b##k at th# harbor that ho loft la tb# AA* But ###a bar#, a# th# baa A "drop momory" la th# Atore of tb# rlrar aad 11# there la th# eater, eom## th* ^u##tlA# okail they b# draea awy by th# rlr#r, late th# aaa, t# diet Ad thl# thy harbor, o my Olty, 1 bar# drltoa uadA, TOaaad fAm th# A ll of tlektmg toAr#,,**T#m#rro#, Ad to b#*#*Bar# by th# SlAr that 1# kaat^ her# at th# Atera* edge the haaA drop aaaaiqr* Shad Alai;# la that abya# they uaa##e#atlag He* hoe far #Ay th# atar ha# peeled tb# ###»* Or ahall the head# b# draea ae«y# to dl#T Th# A a e e r aomea# Klaa of our agoay Thou gatharaat, 0 Baud o f y ir# g a th e r# # !^ *atlA tla* 1# tb# flumi aeatloa of Th# 3rldA#& th# great elalm , th# uaity, th# abAlut# aaparlAW, toeard ehlah all tb# #tb#r *##tlom# bar# b#A morlag* Th# aymbol* lA of th# title 1# eapAlally algalfloAt# Thlc aaatloa la th# A# Alah Oraa# begaa to erlt# flrat, ehm h# Aaoelaed %h# ie#* of It* BrlM* **rly i# It **m *ri#lB*lIy t# b* **title# "*Tb* and 1% hi* #*rly

UA# %mot*d by Bor tom, o&t#, p. It## 111# lofeor, p it# , p# B7## 11#* wobor, jgg* P it#. pp« iBB Interpret#tie# omwfWm# b# q#rt&lmly he th@u#i% »f ## or W&# Ah#elut#* T^ec «rltiAgr »f th# thm# of *0otty 3#A;#* %%y h# ohomgo# th# t i t l e &B6 th# #om#e»t&#m of the flmol p#ft of Th# 1# # mettor ehloh d###r#o# #p###l#tio*# ##p##l#lly *h#m it 1# r##«»h#r## that orlglomlly the 1##A te»#r6 Whioh th# bridge ### holldi## ### @#th#y$ #y#hol of th# m ity o f ###lth ##6 #i#dom* Oolomho# thought th#t h# h#d fouRd Omthoy; f#*th#r##TO$ Qmthoy i# t#mgihl»#*lt #*l#t# im th# eorld# *h#r### Atloatl# 1# merely # logemdmry ieleod ehleh me# h#v# #ooght hot her# mote# found# Who# I t 1# rememhorod th e t To#'# poem, **%# City in th# s##,* mod# #e#h #n lmpr###iom m cr«m# thet ho tpomepoeod #om# lime# from i t imto "The Twmnol," end th e t Po#*# poem ri#m#li### # o ity o f th# deed *y#r doe# »ithim ih# dim %##t,* ehoe# pretention# toeeie end tarret# #r# moekery of # lomg*de#d glory# xmd #loh fimelly gink# end ##ttle# imto the #0#,^^ end ehen it i# remembered# too# thet the leg* emdery etlemti# eee #eppo##d to be eomeehere im the eeeterm ee# (th# etlmmtio)# th# imferemoe ie nnmieteheble thet Qren# did reelie# the derhor eepeet of itlentie e# eell e# it# b rig h t, id # eli# tio # vleiomery eepeot# Thi# d o elity remeim# im *etl#mtle;* it i# mot fimelly reeolred# end the unity i#

11#, M ger A lien Poo# «*Th# C ity in The 3e&#^ ..iMfei Wmtiml lorto ^ iterA llen m e . i#* 44*d@# s S g I o s § & I i « W M I m II m I •»»s f m a 1: I © 1 1 a ! « I I I# A S I 'g a «rt jDi;- # I I i # # s I # © Af » #3 a * A*» © B 5 î^* *» w 4» 0 li a » ! I a , ê f I I K a #n # * 5 I 4» ïl s i ; a § H II û g # &I i i I# I 4» a e 1g :g È A a 9 | I: I#4 # ^ * I %## I « «0 : I $4 li J3 » : #: l © lai III I g a 3 I $4 a A I S il#s & c «; g 'il I il w: i II# : I I ^ ^ l I » É f : « ! I s I I # ^I $4^ *# * I I: gs s f h ! s S s £ f iA t a a s à s i I 4) i lit#3 9 A S s f " i I 11 1 # A 0 a # a il 1 1 g 2, i I la* It 1# th# ###*** ki*a of *bl*k 1# *@a»t&#tly mom* tlOB#& la *Atl#*tl#;* It #0*14 bo a f#l#o otralola# of tbo *ÿ#&ol to Apply tho flrot iatorprototloa #04 #p##*l#t# that #v*D hor# t&» duality latru4#a throagb t&# #y*bol of »<o~ aoaa, a&4 that for thl# raaao* Qram# ha# sot aahlavad 1* tho poo* hl# f&aal **lty oe abaol*t#**tho trama##****## of tlm# aa4 #pa#o# If h* ha# mot #**#a#4#4 la êolna #o, tb# fault lia# mot la tho ooaaapt of #hltoa*aa ao* atoralty# &* th# ooaoapt of itlaatla #ltb ail thi# la misa, It #111 Sa helpful to loo* at ao«* of the lime# of the poaa* la th@ flrat liaa* the brldgo 1# traaaformoa lato a harp* , Through tho houa* o&hl# atraada, the arohl&g path Bpoard* ooorlae *lth light, tb# flight of atrlag#,** Taut mile# of ahuttllag *ooall@ht ayaoopato The tblapor#* ruah, telepathy of wlroa* Tho eialoo la avar upward* aad th e bridge 1# apaamlmg epaoe* jkaa through that oerdaaa* threadlaa *lth It# oall 0#e ar# aymoptl# of all tide* halo*** Their lahyrluthiae #o#tha of hlatory Pourlmg reply a# though all ahipa at #*a Gompllghtad In one etbraat hreath made #ry,~* "Make t&y love #ure**to #ea#e oboe# #ong uo ply#" »«*%## blank #*h#mk#*nte, #o##l#e# aoundlmga hailed* *0 eoven oeean# amener fro* th e ir dream* Th# Bridg#* o r tb# #om&, link# mot only the aeran oneeme and the ahip# that mail upo# them* but alee world#, unlneree#* etere* Beyond nhoaa froeted nape# tho moo* bequeath* T#o world# of aleep (0 arohlmg etramda of #on*&#- canard and up th# eryetal#flooded ai#l# la * Whit# t#qp##t Aët# fil# uptgpd, gp#*rd rlmg Blth #llv#r t#rr*### t&# hamming #p#r#* The left of vision, **ll#4lum helm of eter#* A*& I t #*### tim e, make* «Tomme****# la te peatery##*"* # * # to*#*l#* loam* that pro## Sl&elea* elth flight *f hl*4e o* tendo* hlale -"Temerro*# lato ye#te*ye#**-*al link What elph#***e*lpt of time no traveller *##6# Bat ebo, t&roagh amoklag pyre# of love and deeth, seerehee the tlmelee* laagh of mythl# #*##*#* Bar# the traveller, the poet, la eeerehlng through love an* death f^r the tlmeleeen###, the eternity of hie myth* an# later, the Bridge and the poem ("mmltltudlaou* Verb") have eueeeeded la f&elag the duality of the awn end tha eee (over* eomlmg the gulf#) into one vlalon, one song of Oathay; from gulf# unfolding, terrible of drume. Tell Vl#iom*of*the*Toy#ge, teneely apar#** Bridge, lifting night to eyeloramio ereet Of deepeet d#y**0 dheir, tranmletinp time Into uhat mnltltndlneu# Vert the eua# Add eynergy of water# ever fuea, reeaet In myriad #yllahle#,**P#alm of Oatbay* 0 Lave, thy White, pervealv# Paradigm##,* The poet reaffirm# hie eonquerlBg of the a##* It ie "kneel» iBg*" "yoked* by hi# eong# , * * yoking wave TO kneeling *#ve, one #e*g devoutly bind#** The vernal etrop&e ehime# from deethlea# etringef Bavin* eaaguered the eee, he ha# al#o aonquered death* gelft peel of eeeular light, intriaaie kyth %ho»e fell unehedo* i* death## utter eoumd#* Re ha# rehleved a unity betueeo the elty and the eountryv &* t#h*# tb# ar# A*& #om#le**at #itk r&*# (1#1*# threagh th#l* b#r*#*t* Im #*#*t t#r#»at* A&4 tb# vlalo * 1# » t i l l #ver up*#**# through #*&*!** eor*#*#, pyr**16# Of #Hv#r *#qu#l, Deity## you## #&#* R iuetie o f * h lte eb o irlag *&a8#**##*ead#$ gp to tbi# polat tb# ###* he# bee* pomltive* tb# vl#loa real, the &rid&* #n& It* #a#io etroap *# # symbol of tk# amity th# poet h## feu#** la th e teatb etoaae eeme# tb# firet, #R* oaly, alreet refer*##* to itleatl#, &a* *lth It the fir#t eleeeat of *#ubt, the firet lea# of eeewrea##* th# first evWeae# of #liagla& to th# vlsloa *ltb a##p#r#tioa ## oppose* to th# assure* joyeu#*### of the first #%#&%### higretlom# that must a##*# sol* memory* Imroatioa# that oobblestOB# tb* besrt*-# Uaspeohsbl* Thou Bri*e# to Thee, 0 love# Tby per*## for this history* shitsst fioesr* 0 imeeersr of #li*--Aa#mom#*-* Bos o h ile thy p etal# spem* the sums shoot us# hoi*-» (0 Tho# ehoee rs*i#o#e *eth imhsrit *#) Atlo#ti#*--hol* thy flostiag elagsr late* smother symbol, smother objeotivo* eaters bsre#»tbs fUMMwr of lose* The entire stems# ie peeuli&rly rsmimisoemt #f th# moo* @f th# "feysges*" ahieh *o#tetm mooh lov##flo*er»see* *e#th imagery* a*#all tb# limes from "Voyage# 11": Bast##* ehile they era tru#»-ele#p, *eath. *##lr#, Glo#s roua* ome imstant in om# floating floaer. This satire stem*# suggests almost a r#j*#tiom of tb# affirm# a tio a ma*e in the a r l i e r stams*#* a f te r having ovareom# ieath* the poet mo# return# to imagery vbieh is suggestive 1#* *f la light #f hie **rll#f p*#try, Aad **p##l*lly *lth tb# lat*rpel#tlcm of th* Atlaatl# th#*#, *lth #11 that i t &## booa fou*& to la#l*@# o f 4o#l momalmg, a*## th l* #t*a#* aoaa* #a omlmoa# mote. It 1# slgalflo&mt that th# v#r#io* of thl# poo* ahloh Qram# *#Rt to %#iao fromk om &mg* *#t 5, mltboe&h oloe# to th# flmml v#r*lom la moot of It# 11***, ### o tlll #mtltl#a *Briag#* #&* dia mot laolodo thi# toath otamm##*** Th# affoot of tho addition of tbl# otorn»# 1# * oookoalm* o f th# poaltlv* for## o f the a a tlro po##, for lot# in OroBo## ##rll*r po#** ha# h#oa linked olth tooth, mad la th# oarllor at#a### of *Atlontl#* Oraao'o oh# j#ot ### to otoroo*# both loo# and d##th to flad otoralty* B*t *ho, through «mokla# pyr#* of lot# *ad doath, &##*#h#a th# timol##* laugh o f mythl# *p##ro* * 00, la th# toath atom##, th# poot 1# no loagor atop th# hrldgo-^h# 1# floating la th# ###, ollaglmg to th# ld##l of Atlmatl* and hogging It to hold him; hut la ootumllty Atlma* tl# hod *uak hoOk lato th# »##, ## Oram# roollaod, #ad If b# ollag# to It, ho too *111 olak into th# ###**th# dootb #l#h *111 h# fulfill#*, B# alroody hod th# tioiom of thl# la "Gutty S#rk,* *h#a h# *rot# of th# ##ak#m olty;

oir iStwwBhoui <) SSESB** tea### ramaaat oaorJLia #toa#"'5%r#.#m«w;dfum#'" «dtrooor

114, o l t . . AppWi^la 0, "Th# Dovolopmeat o f Atloatlo," pp, 431 1*# ?h* t#mtb tb# fin a l #t#m# e# 4f aaoentimtlAR tb# qu##tlon *ak#6 tb#r#i so to tbln* Bveypr###»##» beyoea tlm#$ Like #p##r# #n##Rgolm#d of on# tellim fr # t# r That bi##d# lnfinity.MPtb# «trim##* pbmlanm### l*#p and #o*v#rg#: *«<)*# Swa# Ob# Erl% # o f F ire l %# I t Ootboy# Ro%k pity #t##po th# gf#*e #n8 r#l#bo## ring Th# owpont *lth th# oogl# Im tho loev##*»*? Whl#p#r# aotly&«##l Im #*w# Th# vl#lom of G#tb#y 1» holng %o##tlon##"'*tb* olmlom of Xmoklo# lAloh Oolimbu# hod yroph##l#d and Owm# had hoped to fiüfll# And with It 1# bolng ^u##tiom#d th# oom* qoeet of time #od epmoo; *wlhho##*#*4& eymhol o f love## rlmg or morround th# *##rpoot end üi# ##$!##* Tb# loot 11m# do## mot #m###r th# » «a a O u 1: 0 % «X *» 0 # 0 * I t» I *» 40 K .§ #» K 0 # ! 3 g m J e W %4 e g 3 , g * # « 40 0 0 •0g I k 4* * ** : ^ f %; «X a I 0 g 1 #I if % % I 1 « # 4» 40 3 2 -# I ?* „ 0 a K 0 I : I ta «m % S I $ s # 0 n w w* 1 # & .G 2 S «4 4» g 3 i t & m 0 * 0 •4 P* * 0 I *» s I 11 g I 0 « % g MI I M l Img life, frlmdehlpe, poeltlvlmm. It left him aomeehet epert—It #ee fepapeeented la him poetry la eyahol# of eoiamee, etemlllty, deeth* 0rme reeogalmed thle Am lit y la writla# "*&eeltetlre%* he eee the teo feree# ep^eee* there^ the elty oa4 th# coaatry, the poet ead him ea&leaec, eemmtee^ eimllem #a<[ the hamea heart* Ee reeogaleed It, too, la *Pralee for ea Era,* ^Ohepllaeeqae,* eaa other poem* la ighlte aall&^w». Kim flret at tempt to aehleva a myathe^^ earn la "yaamta# mal Belea,* eher# he tried to flmd a plaee la modem aoolety, through a eatharmla of that mealety, for eh#olute heauty aad yoetl# eager lea##, Be earn too «wh a part of the modéra Roria aot to eaat to myathealte It elth tb# damale eoaam^t of beauty la a pomltlee eay# But him eaperleaoea elth the modem eorld*#hlm pereaoal dleappelatmaata mad e oaf 1 let#, eere too bitter, aad they palled him toeard the other aide of him dual#* Ity* Be attempted to aehleee a ayathemle of death aad love through the aymbollmm ef Wie aee la the "Voyagee"*»*alleaatlag hlmmelf frem e«mtemporary alelllaatloa, goiag baek to the aa# el eat emoept# of myatle, eaplomlve death~la*loee* But the myathemle elth the mea mad death meemed too final, too fright* ealag to aeeept, and he turned emee more to reeoaelle him dual nature elth the modern nor Id, thle tlxme a mere determined et» tempt»*2&l Brldre* But am he earn erltlng It, the other aide of him dual nature Intruded, aad eymbolloally he a till felt t^e p u ll o f the mea, la the end tb^ attem pt beeame d ampere to , but f a til# ; Tk# i# #]*bo% fwm *fro#m* te W t kreek# ëeem 1# tb# mieAl* ###tiom# #ad 1# ^w*#ti#m#^ #t th# ##è» a# thmt #f th# t#o aymth#### %#%#### #hi#h CkMw# ##v» #r#é^#*th# #fmth##l# #f th# repehll## of Aa#rla#, #f th# ##at %A#or#m# of llf#$ fatoflty# p#mth#l«m» ayuAeil»## hy tw hrldg## ##4 tb# nQTRth##!# #f a##th, #gr#tl#l#% »#%* tb# p##t# #y#holl»#6 hy th# ###"*h# finally l##t hi# h#ll#f In tb# flr#t* Bv#a ## h# ### wlting Th# th# pr### of p#fe###l 4l##our#g#m##t #h##t th# fbtw# of p##tTy# flA###l*l Alffl# ##ltl##$ # y lrlt# # l 4#pp###iom# 1#6 him h##k to hi# o#lgl##l #ymth##l# mlth th# # ## Throughout ###b ###tlom of Th# ## *0#p# g#tt#r##$* *Q,u#h#r Bill#* "Thro# Sohg#,'' #m* "Th# Tmnmol»" h# employ#, ## h#o b##n ##m, oymhol# ohloh iBdloot# # r#j##tlon of th# #lty, th# wohl##, inmrl### oltll* iootlom, on# # rotwn to th# ###, to ##*u#l ####p#, to th# f###lm#tl@m o f hooth# Or### r##ll*#4 th a t h* h#6 mot #Wil#y#* #ymtb##l# Im th# poom# ohloh h# #rot# #ft#r Ba^$<ÜÊ# #ho# # re tu rn to th# mooA of th# "Vhy####" ##A # groo# log prooooopotlom with d##tb# Thor# 1* Im "0 Oorlh %#1#$* th# Imag# of th& #nm emplo#*# in tb# ###; In on# po#m h# # ro t# : 5orl#h m y romlgaotlom # # %uourp thoe# fmap yelmt# of oomtrol«M,h##r th# rlflo # hlo#m ont #m th# #t#g BolO# tb# ##ropl#B#""#nA ### th# fo%*# bru#h Khiok milontly b#n##tb th* r#4 h ill's #f#y, smtlmotion otirrod on #ith r #16# Boootm# lot# oomdorm, keep# # oortoln mlrth*#^, 199 %>!$» eh, eentori**, 41## ## ##14, T#t llv# Im #11 my r##l<##tlom* I t 1# tb# m### *)wm #11 Th# h##yt#tyl### #yrlm«# #hl###*^__ R#r# 1# th# p#### #f th# f#U&#r##*^° *t#m h#f#f# Orw# left for *#%!### t# #t#4y ##4 #rlt# on # Gm@g#mh#lm f#ll###hlp# th# moo4 # f 4##th ##$ i^?#h him# h# #r#t# t»e mwth# h#f#f# h# left for M#%l#o t# ##14# yrmnk$ The## #r# !?#»114*rlRg time# f#r #v#ry#n#, I wppoee* I ##B*t mm#t#r #m#h #f #ny$hl#^ t# ##y to enyeo## % ###m to her# l##t t*# f##tilty t# #### f##l tmelon* & h#4 #1(0*, I*m ewe# ^%e# they #11 get It 4##14#4, 0#p» Itellm# or th## 1*11 prob#hly he able to r#* #mm# # fee Imtmwltl##: m#m#hll# ih&r# ###m# t# h# me ##p Im enylhlmg# 1*4 i### to fight f#r*"#lmo#t my* ththg, but th ere ##### to be me lomger m y re e l re#l#t» ####* Mmyh# I'm emly # 41##pp#lmte4 rommtl#, after *11# Or yerhepe I* re m#4# te e memy e ffn b le eompremleee# I hep# to Oleeeeer ^ e feult, mheteeer It le, befmr# lemg * # # * Preeemt 4#y emerle# eem # # lem&##y f#em_ ti^ 4##tlmy 1 f#mel#4 ehem I *rote thet peem^e Brl4g^ $ Im *#m# ««eye Sp##(0L#r meet here been r% h t# lt6 Thl# me#4 he 414 hot evereemei It pre##ll#4 luring the time he *## In h#*l#o, there he #eem#4 to grew more #b#erb#4 Im the 14e# of 4#»th# Re erete methlng of the prejeeted poem of the Oomqueet he %«mt there to erlte; the «hort poem# he pro* 4uo#4 re fle # te 4 hi# 4##p#lr* h# retwrmel to the Omlt#4 Btete# only one#* fo r hi# fe th e r'e fumerel# the ##oon4 re tu rn , p#P* tmdlng ## It 414 #A #e#entuetlom of #11 the per#oo#l 41ffl*

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