"The Lowest Place"

Give me the lowest place: not that I dare
Ask for that lowest place, but Thou hast died
That I might live and share
Thy glory by Thy side.

Give me the lowest place: or if for me
That lowest place too high, make one more low
Where I may sit and see
My God and love thee so.
(1863)

Marsh's comment: "In some sense, a 'signature poem' of CGR's occupying final position in her collected edition of 1875."

On a poetic level, this piece is very effective for it shows the poet's economy. In just two four line stanzas she is able to convey the aim of her entire life. The repetition of the word 'lowest' (or simply 'low' in line 6) both in title and text is effective in that it not only shows the poet's focus, but also creates a prayer or hymn-like feel. Many of CGR's works are, of course, quite lyrical - this poem is no exception. It reads like a song. The word repetition gives it a sort of mantra feel, though I don't like that word because I feel CGR would find it too pagan sounding. Catechetical carries no emotion behind it, and the poem definitely has an emotional tone.

What is so fascinating about this poem, however, is that it still ends up saying more about the mindset of the poet rather than the object of her affection. I wouldn't label it completely self-absorbed, but it does seem to betray the poet's sense of her inadequacy before a just and holy God. Marsh, I think would see this as an example of the poet's fear of God the father, and her dependence on the grace of God the son - Jesus Christ. That she is addressing Christ is apparent in that she mentions in lines two and three Christ's sacrifice (on the cross). Yet there is an interesting aspect to her request - she makes it not out of a sense that she deserves it, but because it has been freely offered her through Christ's sacrifice. But she states that because of this she may share a place in glory 'by thy side' (l.4). Does this mean that Christ - the model of humility and servanthood on earth - will also occupy a low place? This doesn't seem to be the case - CGR most certainly would not have interpreted it this way given her knowledge of the New Testament (esp. Revelation). She may mean by 'by thy side' more generally: sharing in the glory of Heaven. I think this is the meaning she is going for. However, the line does betray a striving behind the humility - not a false humility. Perhaps there is a discrepancy between her request and her internal hope. That this is an on-going struggle for the poet is evident in Marsh's description of CGR's final days - her struggle seems continually to be between an Old Testament sense of judgment and a New Testament promise of grace. She hopes for the latter, but fears the former.

Sister Maude

Who told my mother of my shame,
Who told my father of my dear?
Oh who but Maude, my sister Maude,
Who lurked to spy and peer.

Cold he lies, as cold as stone,
With his clotted curls about his face:
The comeliest corpse in all the world
And worthy of a queen's embrace.

You might have spared his soul, sister,
Have spared my soul, your own soul too:
Though I had not been born at all,
He'd never have looked at you.

My father may sleep in Paradise,
My mother at Heaven-gate:
But sister Maude shall get no sleep
Either early or late.

My father may wear a golden gown,
My mother a crown may win;
If my dear and I knocked at Heaven-gate
Perhaps they'd let us in:
But sister Maude, oh sister Maude,
Bide you with death and sin.

I don't have access to Marsh's comments on this one - I'll add them later, when I have the book in front of me. My impressions? The tone is vindictive - completely unlike the image of sisters that we see both in "Goblin Market" and in the life of the poet. By all accounts, Christina and Maria, her sister, were devoted to each other - "Goblin Market" was dedicated to Maria. This poem carries none of the "no friend like a sister" moralizing present at the problematic end of "Goblin Market." Rather the speaker curses Maude for betraying her and her lover. The implication is that jealousy is at the root of it. Maude wishes the beloved were her own, for the poet mentions that even if she (speaker) had not been born, he still would not have even looked at Maude. The poem's rhyme scheme in the first four stanzas is characteristic of a ballad (abcb) with the last stanza having the rhyme scheme abcbdb. Stanzas 1, 4, and 5 all draw comparison between Maude and the other members of the family (specifically Mother and Father), while stanzas 2 and 3 develop information about the poet, her love, and her sister's jealousy. What becomes most significant is the classifying of degrees of sin and guilt. Though never stated, an illicit relationship between the speaker and the beloved is implied by words like "shame" as well as by the fact that the speaker question whether or not she and her lover will be admitted into heaven (the fact that their sin is linked implies a sexual transgression). Maude's treachery is considered to be a more weighty sin than fornication - the poet damns her to hell. A major reason for this may be found in the implication that Maude's action directly or indirectly caused the man's premature death (Did the father kill him? Did he die of grief or shame?).

This is the sort of poem I imagine CGR being embarrassed by in later life; the human passion (eros) has yet to be sublimated by the divine passion (agape). Yet the spiritual is not far off: the attainment or loss of heavenly reward is still at stake. That CGR most often sympathized with the fallen woman in her works is apparent, but again we need to be careful not to spend too much time making assumptions about the poet's own life. It is enough to know the theme is an important one to her body of work. This theme stands out more in her early work, but is replaced by themes of religious longing as time goes by.

Personally, this poem does not resonate strongly with me. I've never been a fan of the ballad form. The almost violent nature of the speaker is interesting for CGR, but there remains something contrived about it.

What do you think, gentle readers?

A quick note: Marsh's only comment regarding this poem is to say that it was first published in 1862, but later repressed by CGR. This confirms my suspicions that she may have later regretted the tone of this piece.

"Winter: My Secret"

I tell my secret? No indeed, not I!
Perhaps some day, who knows?
But not today; it froze, and blows and snows,
And you're too curious: fie!
You want to hear it? well:
Only, my secret's mine, and I won't tell.

Or, after all, perhaps there's none:
Suppose there is no secret after all,But only just my fun.
Today's a nipping day, a biting day;
In which one wants a shawl,
A veil, a cloak, and other wraps:
I cannot ope to everyone who taps,
And let the draughts come whistling thro' my hall;
Come bounding and surrounding me,
Come buffeting, astounding me,
Nipping and clipping thro' my wraps and all.
I wear my mask for warmth: who ever shows
His nose to Russian snows
To be pecked at by every wind that blows?
You would not peck? I thank you for good will,
Believe, but leave the truth untested still.

Spring's an expansive time: yet I don't trust
March with its peck of dust,
Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers,
Nor even May, whose flowers
One frost may wither thro' the sunless hours.

Perhaps some languid summer day,
When drowsy birds sing less and less,
And golden fruit is ripening to excess,
If there's not too much sun nor too much cloud,
And the warm wind is neither still nor loud,
Perhaps my secret I may say,
Or you may guess.


Marsh's only footnote regarding this poem is that in the manuscript, it was originally entitled "Nonsense." This does tell us something, however, about CGR's own take on the poem. The published title, while it may seem somewhat conventional, becomes teasing within the context of the body of the poem.

This is Rossetti at her most playful. Her elusivity - which seems to take on a more desperate tone in other poems - becomes the subject of the poem. She teases the reader, leading them along a path that ultimately leads nowhere - or rather leads back to the subject of the unknowability of the secret itself.

It is tempting with a writer like CGR to look at her poems autobiographically (i.e. confessionally), and yet I think this is a disservice to her as a poet. While she may personally be dealing with issues of morality or longing in her own life - she seems to be speaking on a larger scale. But again that push and pull tempts us to want to check the date of a particular poem against her autobiography to find the "real" meaning behind the text. This poem seems to address that need of readers to find out.

The use of seasons creates an interesting tone: is Winter the secret itself as the title might suggest? It doesn't seem to be. It seems more to represent the idea of one trying to pry the secret from the holder. The reader is winter, against which the poet must cover up, "veil", and "mask" herself. What is more, although the poem is light, the description of winter with its winds paints the picture of a relentlessly annoying attack: nipping, biting, whistling, bounding, surrounding, buffeting, surrounding, nipping, clipping, and pecking. It's not violent, just bothersome to the poet - we may even perceive it more as a problem of the poet, for she answers the readers' protest that they would not peck. Her reply of belief means little, for she leaves the "truth untested still" (l.22). She does not trust winter. By extension, we could say the poet is afraid of letting people in - they are cold and intrusive.

Spring is no better with its transient state: flowers that wither (c.f. to Biblical allusions in the NT. Flowers usually represent the finite. Unlike God's word, flowers will wither and pass away), the weather cannot be trusted.

Only late summer, with its "languid" quality is fit for the poet to reveal her secret. But even here we are teased with a line (30) that sits uneasily, for it describes fruit ripening to excess. The image is lush, but to the point of being sickening (is the fruit rotten?) and looks forward to the fruit imagery of "Goblin Market" written 2 years later. The poet creates a visual suspension: The birds are "drowsy", the wind and warmth are held in a sort of in-between state. Here the poet takes on the laziness of the image: "Perhaps my secret I may say/" (l.33) [my italics]. But the final line - "Or you may guess." is jarring and not at all in keeping with the languid tone developed in the final stanza.

What, then is the secret? Is it the poet herself, wearing a concealing cloak, veil and mask? Or is there no secret at all - the poet teasingly suggests this, not so much to introduce a possibility as to deepen the mystery surrounding the secret. Or perhaps this is merely all a way of discussing the subject of secrets - does the knowledge itself matter as much as the fact that it remains hidden, or known only by a select few? The idea of the secret - the fact that something is unknowable, tantalizes our curiosity. This is the essence of a secret. If known, there is no secret, only a fact or idea. By not telling us, the secret - Rossetti (almost sadistically) creates mystery. This idea is not a new 0ne for CGR, but it has never been so fully explored and "teased" out. She still creates the tension - she wants us to know, but she doesn't want us to know. Again to assume that the secret is something specific in the poet's life is to miss the point of the poem. Rather the poem allows us the damnable pleasure of not knowing.

"The Heart Knoweth Its Own Bitterness" (1857)

When all the over-work of life
Is finished once, and fast asleep
We swerve no more beneath the knife
But taste that silence cool and deep;
Forgetful of the highways rough,
Forgetful of the thorny scourge,
Forgetful of the tossing surge,
Then shall we find it is enough?

How can we say "enough" on earth--
"Enough" with such a craving heart?
I have not found it since my birth,
But still have bartered part for part.
I have not held and hugged the whole,
But paid the old to gain the new:
Much have I paid, yet much is due,
Till I am beggared sense and soul.

I used to labour, used to strive
For pleasure with a restless will:
Now if I save my soul alive
All else what matters, good or ill?
I used to dream alone, to plan
Unspoken hopes and days to come:--
Of all my past this is the sum--
I will not lean on child of man.

To give, to give, not to receive!
I long to pour myself, my soul,
Not to keep back or count or leave,
But king with king to give the whole.
I long for one to stir my deep--
I have had enough of help and gift--
I long for one to search and sift
Myself, to take myself and keep.

You scratch my surface with your pin,
You stroke me smooth with hushing breath:--
Nay pierce, nay probe, nay dig within,
Probe my quick core and sound my depth.
You call me with a puny call,
You talk, you smile, you nothing do:
How should I spend my heart on you,
My heart that so outweighs you all?

Your vessels are by much too strait:
Were I to pour, you could not hold.--
Bear with me: I must bear to wait,
A fountain sealed through heat and cold.
Bear with me days or months or years:
Deep must call deep until the end
When friend shall no more envy friend
Nor vex his friend at unawares.

Not in this world of hope deferred,
This world of perishable stuff:--
Eye hath not seen nor ear hath heard
Nor heart conceived that full "enough":
Here moans the separating sea,
Here harvests fail, here breaks the heart:
There God shall join and no man part,
I full of Christ and Christ of me.

Here's what Marsh says about this poem: The title "(used more than once by CGR) [is] from Proverbs 14:10, 'The heart knoweth his own bitterness; and a stranger does not intermeddle with his joy'.... she also notes that "you" in line 33 is plural (this is made apparant in the final lines of the stanza). She borrows other Scriptural lines: Song of Solomon 4:12, 'A garden inclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.' and she borrows the line, "Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard" from Revelation. This refers to the unknowability of what God has prepared for his flock.

I also noted that CGR uses her favorite phrase from her early years: "a hope deferred" (l.49).

This poem is typical CGR; she intentionally sets up a tension of contradiction. The subject opens by asking if at the end of life all of earth's cravings will have been enough. She then personalizes the thought by describing her own desires and concludes that it is better to want to give than to receive (another biblical allusion). She wants to give of herself but (and here is where she introduces the contradiction) to give, she must be understood. She admits that she wants someone to "stir my deep" (l.29). The next entire stanza elaborates on this line of thinking, showing that she posesses much depth, but that no one is willing to scratch beneath the surface. She states that her depth of feeling would overflow the shallow vessels of others. In this respect she both attracts and repels people: "understand me, but know you cannot understand me" may be a fitting summation. Yet she asks you (plural) to bear with her as if she lies in a dormant state (the fountain sealed). Her craving, ununderstandable soul can only be satisfied and understood when she is with Christ in heaven. The final statement is her ultimate goal and explains the craving; only in Christ can she find satisfaction. Her soul is complete when it is full of Christ and he of her. The tone is hopeful but seems to evade the issue of communion with her fellow man - their flaws and shallowness is not enough. She is both humble and proud - she is deep while they are superficial.

In An Artist's Studio (1856)

In an Artist's Studio
One face looks out from all his canvasses,
One selfsame figure sits or walks or leans;
We found her hidden just behind those screens,
That mirror gave back all her loveliness.
A queen in opal or in ruby dress,
A nameless girl in freshest summer greens,
A saint, an angel - every canvass means
The same one meaning, neither more nor less.
He feeds upon her face by day and night,
And she with true kind eyes looks back on him
Fair as the moon and joyful as the light;
Not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim;
Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright;
Not as she is, but as she fills his dream.

According to Marsh, a visit to brother Dante Gabriel's studio prompted this poem. The artist had several paintings and sketches of Elizabeth (Lizzie) Siddel about. From what I read in Marsh's biography, Christina and the other family members never quite connected with Lizzie, nor she with them. However, we do see from this poem that Christina at least tried to see both what it must be like to be the object of her brother's affection and artistic attention as well as what Gabriel saw in Lizzie.

The poem is an Italian sonnet which may make us think instantly that love will be the subject. But love is more the tool used to explore identity I think. After spending most of the poem praising the muse's beauty and "loveliness" CR observes two things - one: the fact the the paintings hold an ideal vision of some past time ("Not as she is, but when hope shone bright,"), and two: the fact that the ideal vision may not necessarily be the reality (Not as she is, but as she fills his dream.") In this respect, the subject could be said to be little more than a blank canvas. In fact, she is so diminished (even tho' described in terms that should set her apart) that the poet and others ("we") have to "find her." She's hidden behind screens and they only see her in reflection. The poet acknowledges the model's beauty, but again we never see the true image - it is either depicted or reflected. CR hints that the model may be melancholy "wan" and "sorrow" are words that hint at the reality. She looks at the artist and he doesn't see her as she is. Only as he wishes her to be. On a feminist level one could read this as a criticism of male objectification - the woman is never herself, but rather what others (i.e. males) expect her to be and that expectation has more to do with pleasing the male who views her. CR dealt with this somewhat as both Gabriel and her other brother William would often critique her poetry, offering suggestions and alterations. Perhaps she was able to sympathize with the model. The poem is so gentle and so almost conventional that the reader is apt to miss the barb beneath the gauzy sweetness. We see an artist dependent ("he feeds on her face") on his muse, not because of who she is, but because of who he perceives her as.

What this is about

I'm using this blogger to record notes on the poems I'm reading by Christina G. Rossetti for my afternoon comprehensive exams. I'll usually put down any information provided by Jan Marsh in her edition of selected poems. Then I'll look at each poem and sort of compose a free-form exploration of the work. So Here goes!