The Byronic Madonna: English Literature's Absolution Of

THE BYRONIC MADONNA: ENGLISH LITERATURE’S ABSOLUTION OF EVE A thesis submitted to the faculty of San Francisco State University "2^ 0 19 In partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Degree Master of Arts In English Literature by Brianna Marie Anthony San Francisco, California Spring 2019 Copyright by Brianna Marie Anthony 2019 CERTIFICATION OF APPROVAL I certify that I have read THE BYRONIC MADONNA: ENGLISH LITERATURE’S ABSOLUTION OF EVE by Brianna Marie Anthony, and that in my opinion this work meets the criteria for approving a thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirement for the degree Master of Arts in English Literature at San Francisco State University. Marg^f t Schoerke, Ph. D. Professor of English Literature Jennifer Myland^rfrh. D. Associate Professor o f English Literature THE BYRONIC MADONNA; ENGLISH LITERATURE’S ABSOLUTION OF EVE Brianna Marie Anthony San Francisco, California 2019 While Lord Byron, as many Romantics, found a rebellious hero in Milton’s Satan, it is my belief that the resultant Byronic hero is far from Milton’s own conception of heroism; rather it is Emily Dickinson’s feminine appropriation of the Byronic archetype which not only aligns more strongly with the heroic values set forth in Paradise Lost, but which more boldly continues Milton’s subtle glorification of Eve. This thesis explores the oblique path of this centuries-long evolution, delving into the possibility of Biblical allusion as formative of a uniquely hopeful embodiment not only of heroism, but of feminine rebellion. Though the path is indirect, I am convinced that the road from Milton to Dickinson leads to Eve’s literary absolution. that the Abstract is a correct representation of the content of this thesis. Z M y Committee Date / ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS To my parents, whose love has shown me the beauty and value o f this earth from the moment I entered it— To Jenna, who once pulled me from the trough of my own existence— To Bert, “Part o f my S o u l. / My other half’— To Doctors Meg Schoerke and Jennifer Mylander, whose guidance has led me through the trying Eden that is the writing process— To each of the professors I was so privileged to study under during my time at San Francisco State University: your passion for Literature and life has kindled my desire for knowledge on a daily basis; your generosity has shaped me in ways I could never have foreseen— the inheritance of your teachings has been a beautiful gift— Thank you. TABLE OF CONTENTS Introduction 1 Chapter I: The Subtlest Heroine: Paradise Lost's Revolution o f the Flesh 13 I) The Satan Question 19 II) Malleable Flesh, Resilient Bone 23 III) Forming the Revolutionary Heroine 25 Chapter II: The Byronic Female: Emily Dickinson and the Voice of Poetic Revolution 40 I) Sacrificial Solitude 45 II) Almighty Autonomy 51 III) End Everlasting 59 Chapter III: Eve’s Absolution: Dickinson’s Realization of Milton’s Eve 67 I) Perfectly Formed, Grounded in Time 73 II) The Soul o f Sense 77 III) Time o f Life 81 IV) Victory by Entendre 85 V) Death and the Birth o f Eve 88 Conclusion 96 Bibliography , 102 v 1 -Introduction- That Milton was not the first to extrapolate upon Genesis' tale of our Fall from Grace hardly wants mentioning. Biblical exegesis in all of its forms, from philosophy to visual art, is nearly as ancient as the Scripture itself.1 It is a phenomenon which Erich Auerbach astutely attributes to a text made richer through obscurity, a style which not only supports interpretation, but demands it (Mimesis 15). It is this interaction between reader (or listener) and text which enables an intimacy o f experience far exceeding that o f more forthright verse, such that the absorption o f Scripture is less an act o f receiving than one of collaboration. Indeed there is something within the Bible which is quite willing to adapt, to transform— to remain relevant throughout the course of inevitable revolution2 and change.3 It is a malleability so supple that the Fall from Grace has been able to maintain its influence even as its role in reality is cast into doubt; it is at just such a point in history that Milton creates Paradise Lost. 1 For a comprehensive overview of these exegeses across time and discipline, see Greenblatt’s opening chapter, “Bare Bones” (1-20). 2 I owe the formulation of this theory to Benson Bobrick’s Wide as the Waters: The Story of the English Bible and the Revolution it Inspired. He claims that “once the people were free to interpret the Word o f God according to the light o f their own understanding, they began to question the authority of their inherited institutions, both religious and secular” (12); this combined with his tracing o f conflicting readings o f Scripture further suggests that the Bible’s elliptical nature lends itself to revolutionary interpretation and thought. 3“[The Bible] seeks to overcome our reality,” to subsume it, such that “[a]ll other scenes, issues, and ordinances,. the history of all mankind, will be given their due place within its frame, will be subordinated to it” (Auerbach, Mimesis 15). 2 Just like its scriptural predecessor, Milton’s English epic has inspired all manner o f interpretation; rooted in Genesis, Paradise Lost seems cloaked in its own unique obscurity, such that it, not unlike the Bible itself, is perpetually ripe for exegesis. This of course yields conclusions that run the gamut, with Paradise Lost presenting one key complication which the Bible does not: knowledge o f the author. Thus, as is so often the case in Literature, much interpretation seeks to reconcile the poetry with the poet— a pursuit which has duly shaped much of Milton scholarship. This biographical approach to Paradise Lost frequently leads to debate surrounding one of Milton’s most fascinating Biblical extrapolations, and whether or not it was the poet’s intention, Milton’s Satan has long found a following amongst readers. Although, as John Carey points out, the Romantics were not the first to find a mascot in Satan (161), they decidedly did much to cultivate his appeal. Their refinement of the Satan archetype through the Byronic hero has ensured that generations of readers will recognize the peculiar mode of heroism which Milton’s Satan occupies. Even now, narrative culture draws inspiration from this type of being, “proud, moody, cynical, with defiance on his brow, and misery in his heart, a scomer o f his kind, implacable in revenge, yet capable of deep and strong affection” (Christiansen 201). From Lord Byron’s Manfred to Emily Bronte’s HeathclifF, one finds this model stamped out time and again. And while each iteration varies, they all share certain characteristics which can be traced back to Milton’s Satan: rebellion, ambition, the solitude o f brilliance and a debilitating sense of ennui. Such characteristics have, in many ways, come to define the rebel and thus the revolutionary. Those dissatisfied with their lot have turned, time and 3 again, to this being, made solitary through his capacity to envision a future outside of the status quo. Indeed, revolution and its exploration as a political theme within Paradise Lost have always been confined to Satan, and thus to the heavenly realm. But this categorization is, in my opinion, hugely problematic. Not only does such an assumption lay the sole example of revolutionary spirit in the bosom of a theologically evil being,4 but it further isolates that spirit to the immortal and incorporeal. This isolation would indicate either that Milton, in the twilight of his life, finds it necessary to render revolution a wicked pursuit, or that while he does feel a sympathetic bond with a being driven to challenge authority, he has come to question whether such a pursuit has any place on earth; for perhaps fragile humanity is not meant to withstand the disappointments and consequences of resistance— perhaps earthly life is as futile as Satan’s attempts to subsume God. In a revolutionary and humanist such as Milton, both of these possibilities equate to an admission of failure— both are the conclusions of a being cast into the trough o f his existence, content to wallow in an eternal status quo. This is not Milton.5 4 John Carey in his article “Milton’s Satan,” asserts that “[Milton] presents evil as real and traceable to a single Evil One. The wish to isolate evil in this way argues a particular mental configuration which seems to be associated with the belief that, once isolated, evil may become containable or punishable” (160). 5 As Diane McColley so astutely states, “although [Milton’s] hope o f spiritual rebirth o f the body politic was disappointed, he never abandoned his hope for the rebirth o f the specific men and women who would read his poem” (Danielson ed. 177). It is my belief that this black and white approach is deeply rooted in how literaiy criticism has defined “revolution” up to this point, and that this definition as it applies to both Milton and Paradise Lost has been entirely too narrow. Indeed the word has been mostly confined to a masculine, political and spiritual interpretation o f the epic and entirely excluded from what is deemed to be its opposite: the feminine, nonpolitical and earthly. To be clear, I have no interest in aligning m yself with either the political or nonpolitical school of thought,6 rather I wish to break down the wall between the two, to consider how revolution might interact with the nonpolitical— and in this instance largely feminine— sphere.

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