Showing posts with label After the Pleasure Party. Show all posts
Showing posts with label After the Pleasure Party. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 26, 2024

Ovid's influence in "After the Pleasure Party"


CORRECTION

Walter Sutton wrote the article titled "Melville's 'Pleasure Party' and the Art of Concealment" in Philological Quarterly Volume 30 Issue 3 (July 1951) pages 316-327. 

https://archive.org/details/sim_philological-quarterly_1951-07_30_3/page/316/mode/2up

WALTER not William. 

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Where to find lines traced under an image of Amor threatening


In a lady's album. That is, "the lady's album of the nineteenth-century in which verses were inscribed, signed, and dated" (Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries), a later development, alongside the autograph album, of the early modern Album Amicorum. In prose fiction, Melville has already told us how his young hero Pierre became a popular author and was besieged with requests to write in ladies' albums.

"Not seldom Pierre's social placidity was ruffled by polite entreaties from the young ladies that he would be pleased to grace their Albums with some nice little song."
Finding such requests awkward, Pierre wanted a creative way to oblige them without actually writing anything.
What could Pierre write of his own on Love or any thing else, that would surpass what divine Hafiz wrote so many long centuries ago? Was there not Anacreon too, and Catullus, and Ovid—all translated, and readily accessible? And then—bless all their souls!—had the dear creatures forgotten Tom Moore? --Pierre; Or, The Ambiguities
The dodge Pierre finally devises is to blow a kiss over them, collectively, then send them back with one real "confectioner's kiss" allotted to each lady.

Melville describes only the outside of the albums that Pierre receives, making a point to observe the sensory appeal of their "ornate bindings," and the devious manner in which the owners have them scented with expensive perfume. Melville does not say the pages were decorated with beautiful engravings. The more expensive ones were.

For a long time now the italicized poem before Melville's poem "After the Pleasure Party" has had me mystified. I kept trying to imagine the poet in the Louvre or some other museum of art, standing under a painting of Eros, and scribbling away in his notebook. Deep down I knew I didn't get it.

Reading in Zamira, a dramatic sketch (1835) by Jonas B. Phillips, I ran into the following piece, one of the miscellaneous poems collected along with Zamira, the titular verse drama.


LINES
Written in a Lady's Album, beneath an engraving
of Love sharpening his arrows. 
--Jonas B. Phillips in Zamira, a Dramatic Sketch: And Other Poems (New York, 1835)
Lines? Under a picture? Of Cupid "sharpening his arrows"? Italics? The heading of these "Lines" by John B. Phillips features all the main elements of the heading to the italicized poem that introduces Melville's "After the Pleasure Party." The title of Melville's introductory poem or epigraph might serve also as a subtitle for the whole "Pleasure Party": "Lines traced under an image of Amor threatening."
Fear me, virgin whosoever
Taking pride from love exempt,
Fear me, slighted. Never, never
Brave me, nor my fury tempt:
Downy wings, but wroth they beat
Tempest even in reason's seat.  --Intro to After the Pleasure Party
Both the poem and the poem before the poem may be read as verses written ("traced") in a finely made Lady's Album, under an engraved "image" of Eros sharpening his arrows, or some other depiction of "Amor threatening."

In the same genre of verses inscribed under pictures in ladies' albums, Mary Ann Browne in Ada and Other Poems (London, 1828) offers "Lines Written Beneath a Drawing of Heart's-Ease, in the Album of a Lady, Who Was Personally Unknown to the Author."


Different image, same genre:



Here's another one, merely hinting at the range of pictorial subjects that might inspire lines in a lady's album:



One more:

Pictures of beautiful autograph books on Pinterest look later than the thing I have in mind, but a real material example could be findable. The image from Godey's Lady's Book of Cupid taking aim gets at the right idea, (Beware of boys with wings and arrows) in almost the right place (popular reading for women). His wings should be bigger and fluffier though, since Melville's inscriber notes his "Downy wings." I'm still looking for a lady's album or autograph book with an engraving or other kind of illustration that shows the downy-winged God of Love, pointing. If there's a love-sonnet under it, so much the better. Leads welcome anytime.

Piero della Francesca - Cupid Blindfolded - WGA17587
Cupid Blindfolded by Piero della Francesca

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Sunday, October 5, 2014

After the Pleasure Party and Hogarth's Madhouse

In The Madhouse —A Rake's Progress series.
William Hogarth, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
"And kept I long heaven's watch for this,
Contemning love, for this, even this?
O terrace chill in Northern air,
O reaching ranging tube I placed
Against yon skies, and fable chased
Till, fool, I hailed for sister there
Starred Cassiopea in Golden Chair.
In dream I throned me, nor I saw
In cell the idiot crowned with straw."

--from the poem After the Pleasure Party by Herman Melville 
Repressing her romantic and sexual urges, Melville's passionate astronomer Urania makes herself crazy. Eventually she recognizes her own self delusion, though she does not welcome the truth and will even regret the hard, irreversible experience of disillusionment. In the stanza from the poem "After the Pleasure Party" (first published in the 1891 volume Timoleon) quoted above, the figure of the constellation "Cassiopea in Golden Chair" represents the speaker's obsessive pursuit of astronomy as a grandiose hallucination or "dream" of scientific glory. As Urania now recognizes, the intellectual lure of astronomy kept her from seeing the imprisoned lunatic she herself was becoming.  Cassiopea symbolizes Urania's exalted, stellar vision of herself as royalty, while the "idiot crowned with straw" represents her actual state of self-imposed isolation and mental instability.

Melville's images of astronomy and mental illness in "After the Pleasure Party" strikingly correspond to particular images in William Hogarth's The Madhouse, the eighth and last painting in the series A Rake's Progress.
"The eight paintings in William Hogarth's A Rake's Progress (1733) tell the story of Tom Rakewell, a young man who follows a path of vice and self-destruction after inheriting a fortune from his miserly father. It was Hogarth's second 'modern moral subject', and followed the hugely successful A Harlot's Progress (1730).
The series is principally known through the engravings made by Hogarth from his paintings in 1735." --Sir John Soane's Museum
Also as described at the great Soane Muesum website, inmates of Hogarth's madhouse

"include a tailor, a musician, an astronomer and an archbishop. In the door to one of the cells is a man who thinks he is a king - he is naked and carries a straw crown and sceptre.
Like the real Bedlam, Hogarth's Madhouse is open to the public. Two fashionable ladies have come to observe the poor suffering lunatics as one of the sights of the town."  
-- Soane Muesum

In Melville's poem, Urania oddly depicts her telescope as a "reaching ranging tube" pointed skyward. In the center of Hogarth's painting, the mad astronomer squints through a homemade tube of a telescope, which looks like a rolled-up newspaper. The mad astronomer of Hogarth's engraving has even been characterized as a "victim of science":
"In the hospital science has claimed two victims. The fellow peering at the ceiling through a roll of paper which he imagines to be a telescope is an astronomer. Behind him the fellow who has drawn the ship, mortar and shot, earth, moon and various geometric patterns is attempting to discover a scheme for calculating longitude."
-- Darvill's Rare Prints
Like Melville's Urania, Hogarth's deluded astronomer is not able to see the ludicrous figure in the cell who wears a straw crown and has, again like Urania, proudly throned himself. In manuscript versions of "After the Pleasure Party," discarded alternatives for "idiot" included "mad one"; "elated mad one"; and "loon." (As shown in editorial notes for the Northwestern-Newberry edition of Melville's Published Poems, pages 773-4.)

The moral message or "tendency" that Rev. John Trusler finds in Hogarth's Madhouse portraits gets remarkably near to the meaning of Melville's figures of the astronomer's telescope and crowned lunatic in "After the Pleasure Party":
By these expressive figures we are given to understand that such is the misfortune of man, that while, perhaps, the aspiring soul is pursuing some lofty and elevated conception, soaring to an uncommon pitch, and teeming with some grand discovery, the ferment often proves too strong for the feeble brain to support, and lays the whole magazine of notions and images in wild confusion. --Works of William Hogarth (London, 1833)

William Hogarth - A Rake's Progress, Plate 8 (Orig, unfinished)
A Rake's Progress, Plate 8 from The genius of William Hogarth or Hogarth's Graphical Works
William Hogarth via Wikimedia Commons
Melville certainly knew Hogarth's popular works and in Omoo refers specifically to the first of Hogarth's Rake paintings, showing The Heir:
"...a folio volume of Hogarth lay open, with a cocoa-nut shell of some musty preparation capsized among the miscellaneous furniture of the Rake's apartment, where that inconsiderate young gentleman is being measured for a coat."  --Omoo
In Moby-Dick, Melville through Ishmael humorously criticizes the sea monster in Hogarth's Perseus Descending as one of many bad monstrous pictures of whales.

Later: Melville's Wellingborough Redburn owns an "old quarto Hogarth." And in White-Jacket, chapter 90 opens with an elaborate appreciation of the fifth plate from Hogarth's Industry and Idleness series:
"The gallows and the sea refuse nothing," is a very old sea saying; and, among all the wondrous prints of Hogarth, there is none remaining more true at the present day than that dramatic boat-scene, where after consorting with harlots and gambling on tomb-stones, the Idle Apprentice, with the villainous low forehead, is at last represented as being pushed off to sea, with a ship and a gallows in the distance. But Hogarth should have converted the ship's masts themselves into Tyburn-trees, and thus, with the ocean for a background, closed the career of his hero. It would then have had all the dramatic force of the opera of Don Juan, who, after running his impious courses, is swept from our sight in a tornado of devils.  -- White-Jacket, The Manning of Navies
William Hogarth - Industry and Idleness, Plate 5; The Idle 'Prentice turn'd away, and sent to Sea
William Hogarth - Industry and Idleness, Plate 5; The Idle 'Prentice turn'd away, and sent to Sea
From The genius of William Hogarth or Hogarth's Graphical Works via Wikimedia Commons

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