Summary:- The three stanzas of the “Ode on Melancholy” address the
subject of how to cope with sadness. The first stanza tells what not to do: The
sufferer should not “go to Lethe,” or forget their sadness (Lethe is the river
of forgetfulness in Greek mythology); should not commit suicide (nightshade,
“the ruby grape of Prosperpine,” is a poison; Prosperpine is the mythological
queen of the underworld); and should not become obsessed with objects of death
and misery (the beetle, the death-moth, and the owl). For, the speaker says,
that will make the anguish of the soul drowsy, and the sufferer should do
everything he can to remain aware of and alert to the depths of his suffering.
In the second stanza, the speaker
tells the sufferer what to do in place of the things he forbade in the first
stanza. When afflicted with “the melancholy fit,” the sufferer should instead
overwhelm his sorrow with natural beauty, glutting it on the morning rose, “on
the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,” or in the eyes of his beloved. In the third
stanza, the speaker explains these injunctions, saying that pleasure and pain
are inextricably linked: Beauty must die, joy is fleeting, and the flower of
pleasure is forever “turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips.” The speaker
says that the shrine of melancholy is inside the “temple of Delight,” but that
it is only visible if one can overwhelm oneself with joy until it reveals its
center of sadness, by “burst[ing] Joy’s grape against his palate fine.” The man
who can do this shall “taste the sadness” of melancholy’s might and “be among
her cloudy trophies hung.”
Theme:-If the “Ode to Psyche” is different from the other odes
primarily because of its form, the “Ode on Melancholy” is different primarily
because of its style. The only ode not to be written in the first person,
“Melancholy” finds the speaker admonishing or advising sufferers of melancholy
in the imperative mode; presumably his advice is the result of his own hard-won
experience. In many ways, “Melancholy” seeks to synthesize the language of all
the previous odes—the Greek mythology of “Indolence” and “Urn,” the beautiful
descriptions of nature in “Psyche” and “Nightingale,” the passion of
“Nightingale,” and the philosophy of “Urn,” all find expression in its three
stanzas—but “Melancholy” is more than simply an amalgam of the previous poems.
In it, the speaker at last explores the nature of transience and the connection
of pleasure and pain in a way that lets him move beyond the insufficient
aesthetic understanding of “Urn” and achieve the deeper understanding of “To
Autumn.”
For the first time in the odes, the
speaker in “Melancholy” urges action rather than passive contemplation.
Rejecting both the eagerly embraced drowsiness of “Indolence” and the rapturous
“drowsy numbness” of “Nightingale,” the speaker declares that he must remain
alert and open to “wakeful anguish,” and rather than flee from sadness, he will
instead glut it on the pleasures of beauty. Instead of numbing himself to the
knowledge that his mistress will grow old and die (that “Beauty cannot keep her
lustrous eyes,” as he said in “Nightingale”), he uses that knowledge to feel
her beauty even more acutely. Because she dwells with “beauty that must die,”
he will “feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.”
In the third stanza, the speaker
offers his most convincing synthesis of melancholy and joy, in a way that takes
in the tragic mortality of life but lets him remain connected to his own
experience. It is precisely the fact that joy will come to an end that makes
the experience of joy such a ravishing one; the fact that beauty dies makes the
experience of beauty sharper and more thrilling. The key, he writes, is to see
the kernel of sadness that lies at the heart of all pleasure—to “burst joy’s
grape” and gain admission to the inner temple of melancholy. Though the “Ode on
Melancholy” is not explicitly about art, it is clear that this synthetic
understanding of joy and suffering is what has been missing from the speaker’s
earlier attempts to experience art.
“Ode on Melancholy” originally began with a
stanza Keats later crossed out, which described a questing hero in a grotesque
mythological ship sailing into the underworld in search of the goddess
Melancholy. Though Keats removed this stanza from his poem (the resulting work
is subtler and less overwrought), the story’s questing hero still provides
perhaps the best framework in which to read this poem. The speaker has fully
rejected his earlier indolence and set out to engage actively with the ideas
and themes that preoccupy him, but his action in this poem is still
fantastical, imaginative, and strenuous. He can only find what he seeks in
mythical regions and imaginary temples in the sky; he has not yet learned how
to find it in his own immediate surroundings. That understanding and the final
presentation of the odes’ deepest themes will occur in “To Autumn.”
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