Sunday, October 21, 2012

The Lady of Shalott & Ophelia

     As I was reading through Tennyson's "The Lady of Shalott" for the first time I couldn't stop thinking about how much she reminded me of the character of Ophelia from Shakespeare's Hamlet. I think that the first thing that caused me to draw parallels between them is the way the Lady of Shalott is so persistently described as an ethereal, fairy figure, much in the way that Ophelia is described and portrayed in many adaptations of Shakespeare's classic play. There is also the fact that both women have such an otherworldly quality about them that they seem to inhabit their own reality; the Lady of Shalott has an isolated existence in her tower which is juxtaposed with the commonplace activity in the surrounding countryside, while Ophelia occupies an alternate reality within the confines of her own mind. Lastly, there is the fact that both women come to their ruin through the agency of men.
     It is when the Lady first glimpses Lancelot that she truly realizes for the first time the limitations and loneliness imposed upon her by the curse that confines her to the tower, contemplating the activity of life through a mirror while weaving in her solitary prison. Of course, the statement she makes before his appearance about being "half-sick of shadows" indicates that she was restive before he happened by her tower, but there is a substantial difference between restlessness and deliberately invoking a fatal curse. When the Lady looks towards Camelot and purposely brings the curse upon herself it is apparent that she chose to do so out of her hopeless love for Lancelot. Essentially, she knew she could not have him and chose to end her suffering rather than pine away for him in her lonely chamber.
     Ophelia does not choose her fate in as active a manner as the Lady, yet she most definitely descends into madness following Hamlet's contradictory treatment of her. Hamlet goes from longing for her intensely, to the point that he urges her to escape to a nunnery to guard her virtue from him, to dismissing her presence callously. He becomes so wrapped up in the drama of his uncle and mother, as well as his philosophical musings, that he neglects her feelings. As a result, Ophelia retreats into the confines of her mind and begins to act erratically and childishly. For example, she prances around and hands out flowers to members of the Danish court, which seems superficially harmless yet is foreshadowing her own funeral after she dies by drowning.
     It is the combination of flowers, death, and water which is perhaps the most striking similarity between the fates of the Lady of Shalott and Ophelia. The Lady is described in a prophetic way as living in "a space of flowers" which "the silent isle imbowers," both of which seem to refer to her flower-surrounded chamber yet also evoke images of the Lady lying inside the flower-filled boat that becomes her casket. Ophelia, like the lady, dies in the water with her strands of "crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples" enclosing her in a last embrace. It is this very image of Ophelia that the Pre-Raphaelite painters chose to represent during the Victorian era, just as they chose to depict the Lady of Shalott and her tragic end. It is fitting that these two tragic literary figures should be not only joined together by their similar aspects and fates, but also by artists who understood that the striking similarities between the women would resound all the more when immortalized on canvas.    

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Rachel's Revelations: More Confusing than Enlightening?

     I have to confess that up until the section of The Moonstone detailing Franklin Blake's version of events, particularly that of the confrontation in the music room between himself and Rachel, I have been under the impression that Rachel was complicit in the theft of the diamond. I found this an unsettling suspicion to entertain as I liked Rachel's spunky, unconventional manner from when she was first introduced in Betteredge's narrative; however, I couldn't piece together any other likely reason for her histrionic behavior following both the theft of the Moonstone and the revelation of public suspicion against Godfrey Ablewhite. Having cast Rachel in such a guilty light, I then proceeded to mitigate that suspicion by coming up with scenarios in which Rachel was merely an accessory after the fact rather than the actual thief. Oddly enough, each time I tried to think up a scenario, the only character that it made sense for her to be assisting was Franklin (due to her romantic attachment to him). Therefore, it was with a simultaneous sense of comprehension and puzzlement that I read the section in which Rachel reveals her odd behavior as having been aimed at protecting Franklin, the man she loves, from the consequences should the rest of the world find out what she saw with her own two eyes: him stealing the Moonstone.
     This revelatory scene made sense to me because it fully explained Rachel's desperate and distraught manner, as well as falling in line with the theory of Franklin as the thief, yet it failed to explain why Franklin did not remember either stealing the diamond or his motives for doing so. In essence, Rachel's revelation, while following the factual framework of my scenario, does not fall in line with either her character or Franklin's. In Rachel's case, the point can be made that she acted contrary to the reader's initial opinion of her as a strong and independent woman, namely when she allowed the burden of the secret of Franklin's guilt to weaken her judgment and disposition, because of the love she has for him. That is definitely a mitigating factor in her favor. Franklin's actions in stealing the Moonstone out of Rachel's bureau in full view of Rachel herself, however, are not in line with anything we as readers know of his character, particularly as he himself does not remember doing so. It would make much more sense were we to find out that he stooped to stealing the diamond out of financial desperation following threats from creditors on the Continent.
     Overall, it is frustrating to have the mystery of Rachel's conduct explained, and her character satisfyingly vindicated, and then immediately have a confusing and unflattering light thrown upon Franklin. Though I have to admit that I am glad that my first impression of Rachel as a straightforward and honorable character was correct, it is difficult to quickly reconcile myself with the concept of Franklin as an unwitting perpetrator. Paradoxically, it would have been easier to handle had he been revealed as lying in his narrative about his innocence. If Franklin's actions were motivated by financial need and desperation it would be possible to eventually gain some sort of sympathy for him depending upon the exigency of his situation; however, as things stand with him in a state of ignorance as to his actions, it brings in all manner of speculation on his mental state and calls into question all of the positive descriptions of his character.  Therefore, Rachel's revelations are double-edged in their function of simultaneously clearing her name and implicating Franklin's in a way which is far from clear.